[Heroes] Missing After Battle With Bandit Leader, Adventurer’s Guild Says
According to officials speaking on the condition of anonymity, three [Heroes] are missing following their bout against the so-called |Bandit King| last Saintsday, prompting a desperate search to find them. Helga Halfshield ([Shieldzerker], Level 61), Davian Shatterfist ([Unholy Monk], Level 57), and Teriel Thundersong ([Bomb Bard], Level 53) were all long term members of the heroic band ‘The Spirited Seven’. Led by Magnus Apollo ([Poultry Paladin], Level 67), the band rose to prominence eight years ago when they ended the hostage situation at the Baron’s Bank in New Sally through a combination of fried chicken explosives and good old-fashioned brawling.
Alongside a second party of adventurers led by Leon Softbarrows ([Mooncromancer], Level 65), the Spirited Seven were chosen to assault the mysterious silver castle discovered by adventurers almost two weeks ago in an attempt to end the plague of bandit activity causing havoc around the continent.
The fighting was unusually fierce, sources say, as the adventurers were faced with foes who were substantially stronger than their scouted levels would suggest. Rumors of bandits having been given Commissions or weapons and armor from different cities around the continent remain under investigation, and the guild has made no further comment on the matter.
Though the initial assaults seemed promising, the battle quickly spiraled out of control due to the activation of an unidentified artifact (the adventurer’s guild denies that any such artifacts were recovered from the castle, as has been reported previously).
Accounts from other witnesses claim that the adventurers were in danger of being defeated completely, which forced Apollo to use his signature skill, [Judgment: Extra Crispy]. While it’s been confirmed that none of the missing [Heroes] were victims of friendly fire, there’s been no trace of them since, and it’s feared that they’ve been taken hostage by the fleeing bandits. A worryingly high number of adventurers have gone missing in recent weeks as the open call continues to clear out pockets of bandit resistance.
See Missing, Page A6
Vee felt his stomach sink as he took his last sip of morning coffee and put the newspaper down. He didn’t dare read any further, lest he spend the rest of the day worrying about things that he had no control over or ability to influence. That was the problem with the papers; they forced him to be aware of things he couldn’t fix or really do anything about, which was as infuriating as it was scary.
The [Dungeon Master] shook his head and stood up. He had work to do, and sitting around wallowing about the news wouldn’t help him get it done. Like almost everyone else around the continent, all he could do was put his faith in the adventurers and hope that things turned out okay.
Alforde was standing by the door, and Vee hurried to put on his coat and join his friend on the way to the dungeon. They still weren’t talking much on their walks to and from Crestheart, but Vee took the fact that they weren’t going by themselves anymore as a good sign.
It was surprisingly warm and light outside the boarding house, and the trio gave their regards to Sculla as they headed toward the Westown gate. The ogre returned their greetings with a sagely puff of her pipe, and told them that there’d be boxes to carry in when they got back for the night. Yippee. Another thing to look forward to.
Reginald tightened his brim as they made their way down the street.
“So, what’d you decide to do, Boss? You going to have Do and the [Dungeon Maintainers] rip out the lancer room?”
Sadly, though Vee had considered the matter carefully, he didn’t see any other options for it, so he nodded. The lancer room had been in the dungeon for three days, but fewer than twenty adventurers of the almost eighty who’d run Crestheart had bothered with it. One in four was not a high enough rate to justify continued presence: it was taking precious space that would have probably been better used for the bigger obstacle course. However, Vee was determined to try and come up with a different way to utilize the teleporters. A puzzle that required the careful manipulation of timed switches might be nice, but he’d have to really sit down and think through all the details before he started implementing it. That’d been the ultimate problem with the lancer room; he hadn’t considered all the angles.
“I told Do to start removing it this morning after I woke up, so it should be done by the time we’re supposed to open.”
“That’s good,” Reginald said. As if sensing Vee’s disappointment that the room hadn’t worked out, he added, “I know you like those skeleton lancers, but I think they’ll be better off elsewhere in the dungeon. Like that long hallway about a quarter of the way into the second floor. All it’s got right now are a couple [Snow Blade] traps, which aren’t really much of a threat on their own.”
“Eh. Maybe. I kind of like that hallway,” Vee said. “I don’t think that every room should be packed to the brim with hazards and challenges. A bit of downtime doesn’t hurt anything.”
Reginald made a sniffing sound, and the conversation died down until they reached Crestheart. Wishing Alforde luck for any battles he’d have that day, Vee went up to the office and waited for the runs to begin.
Next to a console was a small scrap of paper, and Vee recognized the handwriting as belonging to Rortenferry’s [Seneschal], Duvian.
Mister Vales, it said in perfectly spaced script. My master humbly requests a meeting with you tomorrow evening, if your schedule and duties allow it. He believes that he’s found a clue as to the cause of your orchestra’s peculiarity and would like to test his findings. If this works for you, please hang a strip of ectoplasm out of your tower window before the end of business.
Vee frowned. He’d planned to spend the evening as he had the last two, searching the city for any sign or word of Thien. Juniper had told him she’d overheard people talking about someone else who’d gone missing and had the same message on their door that Thien did. The [Dungeon Master] was concerned that something bad had befallen the [Gold Smith]. An odd sensation – not unlike an itching around his teeth – made him think it was somehow connected to Sacre’s Westown enterprise, but he didn’t have any proof of such a thing, and kept those thoughts to himself.
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After talking it over with Reginald, Vee decided to go ahead and meet with Rortenferry instead of going out to keep looking. Truth be told, all his fruitless searching had been somewhat depressing, and he was eager to find out what his old [Professor] had learned.
Using [Shape Ectoplasm], Vee did as Rortenferry’s letter requested and hung a long, thin strip of ectoplasm out the tower window.
With that done, he turned his attention to the dungeon. Do and the fiends had come through once again, and there were no signs anywhere of the abandoned lancer room. Turning his head, Vee said, “Dheart, would you do me a favor?”
“What is it, Master?”
“Go ahead and distribute an additional two upkeep payments to all of the [Dungeon Maintainers], would you? They’ve had a busy few days and I want to reward them for a job well done.”
[Leadership +1]
“As you wish.”
The dungeon heart whirred and made some gurgling noises, then announced that the task was complete. Vee thanked it, though he wasn’t entirely sure he needed to. Oh well. Nobody had ever died from saying thank you.*
None of the first few adventurers for the day warranted a use of [Boost Drops], as they were all inexperienced and low level adventurers who had yet to clear the first floor. Vee didn’t even bother using most of the traps at his disposal, as the smattering of minions they encountered were enough to end their runs early.
Leaning back in his chair, Vee waited for a better challenger to appear.
About an hour later, he saw one.
*Except for Weiss the Cotton Tongue, an ancient [Explorer] who was one of the first people from the continent to make the harrowing journey across the seventeen seas and reach Zalumna. He spent eight months with a rich and powerful family while his ship was rebuilt, but eventually declared that he had to return home. When he tried to thank his hosts for their wondrous hospitality, he mispronounced a few of the words, transforming his expression of heartfelt gratitude into a horrific obscenity. While the specifics of what he said have been lost to time, the fact that he was murdered on the spot has not.
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Alforde sat on the floor of his arena, probing his thoughts and waiting for the [Druid] Vee had warned him of to come down the stairs. Slammy was on the ground next to him, and while Alforde yearned to pick up his hammer and feel its familiar weight, the armorsoul refrained. He’d found that he was most prone to… having his thoughts run away from him when he held the weapon, and so decided to keep from doing so as much as he could.
To be a champion is to be someone others can rely on, but not someone that exists only for a single purpose, a deep voice said in his helmet, and Alforde murmured in assent. He’d been regularly hearing Sacha’s voice again since his chat with Vee, and the [Dungeon Champion] did his best to internalize the sayings.
They were tricky things to deal with, simplistic on the surface but with more significance the more he pondered them. Though the rebuke to his recent fixations was obvious, Alforde couldn’t help but think that there was another lesson hiding in the generalizations, but he had no idea what it might be.
Hearing the telltale squeak of the stairs, the [Dungeon Champion] opened his eyes. Picking up his hammer, Alforde stood up as the adventurer entered the arena, and inclined his helmet ever so slightly.
The adventurer was a tall, shirtless man, wearing a hood depicting some animal Alforde didn’t recognize. It looked vaguely like a bear, but for some reason was covered in feathers instead of fur. He carried no weapons, but instead settled into a crouch and started to glow red. Alforde shifted into his own stance and gave the [Druid] the pre-fight spiel. When he was finished and the man agreed, Alforde tossed over an SSB and waited for the battle to begin.
Letting out a roar, the [Druid] [Transformed]. His body swelled and surged until he was as big as any bear Alforde had ever seen, and was completely covered in silver feathers. With a roar that made the room shake, he threw himself forward and Alforde met his charge with a sweeping strike of his own. The weight of the clash made Alforde’s pauldrons tremble, and it took a great force of will for the [Dungeon Champion] to push the [Druid] back.
Alforde felt the first flickers of manic energy filling his gauntlets as the battle continued. Like dancers in the middle of a complex routine, the [Dungeon Champion] and [Druid] asked question and answered them, their [Combo Attacks] and [Vicious Swipes] replacing steps and tempo. Alforde was knocked off stage by a vicious punch that followed a clever feint, and as he bounced off the floor below, he wanted to do nothing more than let himself run wild upon landing.
Instead, he refused to let the mania overwhelm his senses and forced himself to remain calm and measured once his boots hit the stage. He summoned Shadowforde, forcing the [Druid] to battle on another front while he probed the manbearbird’s defenses with well-timed probes from Slammy. Neither the distraction nor the testing provided him with much of an advantage, but Alforde remained patient. An opportunity to catch up would present itself, and when it did he’d be ready.
His chance came almost halfway through the bout, when the [Druid] overcommitted to a [Maul] and Shadowforde managed to land a solid blow on the adventurer’s back. Alforde took a small step to the side, raised his hammer, and yelled, “[Tundra Crash]!” as he brought his hammer down as hard as he could.
Ice exploded from where his hammer struck the stage, and its shockwave knocked the [Druid] even further off balance. Alforde evened the score with a well-timed [Pauldron Smash], and the brawl continued to grow more intense. Both the challenger and the champion were sent flying off stage two more times in quick succession. If Alforde could have smiled, he would have as he slowly circled the arena and waited for his foe’s next move. Being so close to evenly matched was a real treat, and like a man savoring a hot meal after a hard day’s work, Alforde didn’t want to miss a single moment.
As the last seconds ticked away, their strongest blows yet rang out across the arena. Reginald announced that the fight was over as they faded to silence, and Alforde slowed to a stop.
“With the scores tied, the adventurer is victorious! Go ahead and collect your prize! We hope to see you challenge Crestheart again soon!”
The armorsoul let his helmet fall forward and waited for the surge of rage he knew was coming. However, after a few seconds, he realized that it still hadn’t manifested, and that he only felt a grudging respect for his foe. It’d been a good fight; there was no shame in losing it.
To be a champion is to know when you’ve been outmatched and to remain graceful in both victory and defeat.
“I know,” Alforde murmured as he looked into the [Druid]’s eyes. The man had transformed back and was panting.
The [Dungeon Champion] walked forward and held out his gauntlet for the man to shake.
“That was a good fight,” he said. “I look forward to another battle someday.”
With a grin, the [Druid] took his hand and nodded.
“Of course. I’ll definitely be back!”
Alforde pointed to the treasure chest on the far end of the arena and the man went to collect his prize. The armorsoul focused on the rest of the day ahead.
There were bound to be other fights, and his duty to the dungeon was not yet complete.
[Heart Of A Champion +1 – Deferred Due To [Fair Fight]!]