The century started by throwing javelins but Kaz Itzal swept a hand out and the javelins tumbled from the air. The sahii threw some javelins of their own and the century took the more banal approach of locking shields- few injuries resulted, if any. Legion doctrine was pragmatic and refined- the only chance the Sahii had was if they managed to break the formation through magic or essence warriors.
From what Bryn could see- and smell- it was a pretty fair chance.
She had no more time to watch, however. The party was already dashing for the entrance to the dungeon. No sahii split off to chase them, which was both reassuring and worrisome at once. No humans chasing meant they trusted the dungeon to defend itself.
She could guess why as soon as they entered- the essence was thick. She could almost feel it on her skin and she could smell nothing else. "Gula's blood!" Hoff swore. Bryn agreed.
Even past the sunlight the cave was lit up brighter than their lantern could have managed. It was said that glowmoss was a gift of the gods to keep delvers from getting lost in the darkness, but she'd never seen it brighter than a spark, barely enough to keep you from bumping into the walls. She'd heard that in Yore's Deep it got bright as candlelight but that dungeon was a century old, hardly a place a middling party like theirs was qualified for.
They pressed on anyway. The dungeon was thick with vegetation but unexpectedly light on defenders- enough for a ten-year dungeon, perhaps. Strong enough for a fifty-year dungeon, though. Mostly just vermin, the normal birds and rodents you could see anywhere boosted to twice the normal size and with teeth and claws that could slice leather and scratch furrows in steel. In a normal dungeon Meech would just flick them against the walls but here they just bounced off and came back for more.
The tunnels were filled with cursing as the party fought off small animals with too large weapons. Bryn's knees began to ache- she had to crouch to slash the damn things. They drew blood too- tiny wounds due to the small size of the critters but aggravating. Bryn thanked the gods that none seemed venomous.
Except for the snakes that showed up immediately after. They were actually easier to handle as they had to rear up to strike, but the few bites that got through took a potion each to counter. The party had enough- benefit of a legion contract- but they were burning through them. More beasts arrived, this time a pack of sand cats. Still nothing they couldn't handle. Still aggravating. Thankfully the vermin had been mostly cleared out- in an older dungeon they'd have been staggered in waves. It was strange though- why was there still so much dirt, vegetation? They had to have gotten past the initial cave by now. It was too big too- unmanaged dungeons should have cramped tunnels barely tall enough for the average human.
Then the earth shook. The walls groaned around them and dust rained down on their heads, distracting them and leaving more openings for the dungeon-crazed creatures to take advantage of. They did so with gusto. Yve was hamstrung and nearly killed as he fell over, his plate barely being able to protect him. It was practically shredded by the time they got him back on his feet with a potion in his hand.
"Should we retreat?" Hoff panted out. The pace, the difficulty, even struggling through the undergrowth was taking a toll on them all.
"Can't. We'd be hanged in breach of contract. Let's take a break tho- a hollow over there, we can put our backs to it." Puarz replied. The party followed his advice. Woont reached it first, pressing against the stone- then breaking through. The stone was wafer thin and concealed an array of spears behind. He screamed as he fell onto them, getting stabbed in half a dozen places. He struggled to free himself and Puarz and Yve tugged him away but it was worse than useless. Each spear was barbed and tore a bigger hole on the way out. Woont died from the blood loss before they could even force a potion into him.
The earth shook again and they could hear something like an explosion- what the hell was happening? Bryn had never heard of a dungeon doing this! It couldn't be an earthquake could it? If the warp veins broke while they were down here… Bryn shuddered.
They didn't have time to mourn. The flood of beasts had thinned but those that were left were terrible. The smartest of the sandcats, waiting for weakness. Some ridiculous scaled birds, barely a foot tall but with beaks that punched through steel. Their armor was tattered, weapons cracked, and they were all exhausted but they pressed on.
Fortunately the undergrowth finally began to clear out and they were able to see the beasts coming and with that they were finally able to take a breath. A newly excavated part of the dungeon? It had a river running through it and the vegetation was sparse, but the moss even brighter. The question was why there was vegetation at all. Dungeons had no use for it.
Bryn giggled. "This is hell. We should apply for bonus pay." There was a beat of silence. Meech broke first and her squeaky laughter sent them all off. The legion never gave bonus pay. "Gods, is this essence euphoria? Just by BREATHING?" Bryn shook her head. She could smell nothing but essence.
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"Congrats Magister Meech- you're going to break through early." Yve gave Meech a sloppy salute. Everyone laughed again. They had survived, the worst was over. With these young dungeons if you lived through the flood you could waltz right up to the core. That was forbidden normally- made the dungeons meaner. In this case they were here to kill it. The earth shook again. Maybe it would collapse first.
Good. Woont was a comrade. Bit of an ass and a womanizer, but he still deserved revenge. Didn't need to die the way he did. "Potion check." Hoff called out. Two, one, zero, one, two. Bryn passed one of hers to Puarz. Best Hoff had the two in case of emergency.
Then the emergency found them. They heard a snort and all turned to look, then froze.
A drake. A fucking lesser tusked desert drake. Lesser only in comparison to the truly giant- it was still two tons of muscle, tusk, and scale. At least they didn't have a breath- that was an ability reserved for true dragons as a dungeon had to personally inscribe it. Instead they just crushed whatever was foolish to get in their way.
The party was in its way.
The drake bellowed, an overwhelming sound that hit them like a fist of air, then charged. Hoff planted his shield and braced for impact- a tusk plowed right through and left the brave fool impaled. Pryz dodged to the left. The drake tossed it's head and caught him a glancing blow as it rushed past- it was still enough to fold him in half with a snap of bone.
Meech went above, using her spearstaff to vault above it and try to sever the spine of the demon- or failing that, simply get past it safely. She failed at both. The damascus steel simply skittered across the scales, drawing sparks as it did. She'd saved for two years to afford that weapon. What was worse was when a dark shadow bigger than a man pounced across the tunnel to intercept her in midair, leading to a wail from the shadows silenced by a single crunch.
Lesser stalking drake Bryn numbly guessed as she scrambled past the first drake. She made it- it was busy taking out Puarz- and kept running. There was nothing they could against a beast like that. Almost nothing- she giggled hysterically as she imagined stabbing it in the asshole. It was a proven technique- if you had a barbed spear and a potent enough poison. With her knives she couldn't even bleed it to death.
She glanced back at a bellow- the demon was trampling Yves, who had managed to stab it in the eye. That wouldn't work. She kept running. Sure, you could blind it- Bryn knew of only one dungeon which had managed to make crystalline eyes - but even the inside of the skull of a demon was armored. The great dungeons didn’t leave their greatest creations with weaknesses like a hole in the back of the eyesocket. Some demons didn’t even have hearts- the veins themselves twisted like worms to push the blood around.
A dungeon less than a year old shouldn’t have had demons. Even if they lived on its very doorstep they wouldn’t give a glance to the petty essence emissions of a young dungeon. Beasts could use essence to strengthen themselves but demons were born practically perfect, only needing to grow.
She kept running. She could do nothing else. The caves were nearly barren down here, only soil and stone and the occasional patch of glowmoss bright as a torch, each patch a different color. The occasional quake still shook the caverns, but they were getting weaker, farther apart. The essence continued to get thicker. How was that even possible? It was stifling, she could barely breath- not that she needed to with so much essence in her system. When Bryn exhaled her lungs filled again by themselves. She breathed anyways- if it wasn’t so hard to breath she’d be hyperventilating.
Bryn began to hear a strange sound, almost like a flute, along with the burbling of water and a strange percussive noise, like… A glass drum? It was music, but alien, eerie, like nothing of this world. Her lip was wet. She wiped it away, then looked at her hand. Blood. Her nose was bleeding. She followed the music. Was it getting colder? It was. Ahead of her was another side corridor, but this one was bleeding red light. There’d been dozens of side corridors but she had kept to the main one, the one with the river. She didn’t want to get lost. Or maybe she was just running forward in a haze.
She turned the corner and stumbled to a stop. She’d found it. The pearl, the heart of the dungeon. She’d seen one before. It’d been the size of a human head, dully glowing. It was said that the red glow was a warning from the gods- their creations had been sent to save mankind, not to serve it. The empire scoffed at this. Dungeons could be managed.
This dungeon was not the same. She could feel it looking at her. Twice the size of a human head, covered in cracks, it seemed to breathe. Some cracks sealed as more cracks opened. It throbbed as if it were breathing. Was it growing before her eyes? She heard a noise- she’d dropped her daggers. It glowed, but not dully. It was like the heart of a forge. She could feel the heat on her face even as the rest of her chilled- the walls around them were covered in frost despite the blaze of the pearl. Where the other pearl had been embedded in the wall this one was suspended by a web of thin tendrils- she could only see them when they reflected the light. An arm-thick bundle of roots extended from the bottom to drape in coils on the ground- they extended past her, leading somewhere in the darkness.
Then something hit her from behind. She heard a crunch- her neck hurt- she couldn’t feel the rest of her body- she tried to catch herself but she couldn’t move, couldn’t feel, couldn’t even scream as she fell. Her head bounced off the stone and she was blinded with pain. Then she felt something touch her face- lift it up. It felt like cobwebs. Thousands of near invisible tendrils lifted her face and she saw the pearl again. A stalking drake was beside it, rubbing against it while making a basso buzz. Ah, the draconic purr. She could feel tiny pinpricks on her skin as she absently noted more details- odd pits in the shell, a half-sphere glowing white, spouting water from a series of tubes. Was that the flute? A dozen white patches, pulsing in time with the drums. She felt so cold.
A thunderous voice filled her head.
'DO YOU WANT TO LIVE?'
More than anything. Yes.
The world went white.