-[Act 3 * Part 2]-

With thunder and lightning Basil appeared within the summoning circle of the teleportarium. The blue blots of energy that heralded his arrival shot across the floor and merged with the magic runes surrounding the platform.

The lightning struck three more times as Elnora appeared on the platform next to Lord Doom, then Schwartz and, finally, Scarlet. The four of them then gathered up by the exit of the teleportarium chamber and waited for the door to be opened from the other side.

Basil fixed the sleeves of his jacket, straightened the mantle on his back and checked the rings on his fingers. Compared to his rather modest battle dress, the dungeon keeper now wore an outfit that few emperors could afford. The black and red cloth of his garb was woven from the silken death shrouds of a hundred cursed kings. The gemstone socketed buttons of his jacket were no mere trinkets, but, rather, soul stones—imbued with elemental resistances and defensive runes. Likewise, the rings on his fingers were enchanted artifacts of the highest caliber. Wielding them, Basil could literally kill an average minion with one finger and raise the corpse as an undead servant it with another.

It was not because of some sense of vanity that Basil had chosen this impressive set of clothes and jewelry for his visit to the Nine Hells. Armed and armored in the finest magic artifacts, the dungeon keeper was ready for the possibility that one of his own kind would decide to challenge him. Almost without exception, dungeon keepers were the most powerful of creatures in the Nine Hells and they were known to harbor no love for one another.

“Stick close to Scarlet,” Basil told Elnora. “She is here to protect you.”

“Got it,” Elnora said and looked up at the towering warrior standing next to her.

Scarlet looked down at her ward through the slit in her helmet’s visor. “There is only so much that I can do to prevent your death if someone starts casting top tier magic,” she told her.

Elnora’s heart sank.

“If I tell you to run,” Scarlet said and drew her sword to inspect it, “then don’t ask stupid questions. Just run.”

Even in the dusk of the now dormant teleportarium Scarlet’s weapon shone with a low blue light—a surefire sign of its enchantment. “The Young Master, Mister Schwartz and I can withstand a lot of damage,” she said, “but if we are forced into a fight then your best course of action would be to hide. Do you understand?”

Elnora nodded vigorously.

Scarlet was dressed in a suit of armor so large that she now almost rivaled the size of her Master, Lord Doom. Painted blood red and adorned with magic seals and scrolls of incantation, her equipment looked top of the line and decidedly holy.

The same could not be said for the appearance of Schwartz. The grim man looked more orderly than before, but even his best set of armor was rather plain in appearance when measured up against the downright inspired sight that was Scarlet.

Schwartz approached the door and knocked three times. He then checked his equipment while waiting for a response. He wore a much lighter set of armor—mostly boiled leather over a long mail shirt—but carried a larger weapon than his blood colored counterpart. A two-handed sword was strapped to his back while on his right arm he wore a bracelet with a small crossbow attached to it. A quiver of bolts was fixed to his right thigh and there was a short sword clinging to his left.

At a glance it was obvious that the man favored fighting offensively, while the woman—armed with a kite shield and a sword—was better off on the defense. If it was not for their rivalry, these two servants of House Doom would probably make an unstoppable duo.

Finally, the door opened and two human minions welcomed the dungeon keeper with courteous nods. If there was any demonic heritage in their blood, then it did not show.

“Are the premises secured?” Schwartz asked.

“They are, Master,” the black armor-clad servant answered. He was dressed in a similar fashion to Schwartz, but instead of a sword carried a longbow over his back. The blade at his side, however, was longer so as to better serve as the minion’s main melee weapon.

“Are you sure?” Scarlet asked and looked to the other minion—a woman dressed in armored plate and with a crimson cloak at her back. On both, her shield and cloak, was drawn a white rose with large thorns sprouting forth from its stem.

“Yes, Master,” the female warrior answered and bowed before Scarlet.

The two servants then stepped aside to let their superiors pass.

Basil walked out of the teleportarium chamber and found himself standing in a decrepit hallway. It was not the sight of a Guild facility, but rather that of an abandoned warehouse. The arcane conduits that powered the teleportation ring ran along the walls and connected to a hidden power source somewhere further ahead. There were signs of recent maintenance on the arcane cables and the teleportarium platform they connected to.

“Where are we?” Elnora asked. “Did our teleportarium malfunction?”

“We are right where we want to be,” Scarlet answered. “This is an abandoned cargo handling facility just outside the walls of District One. We are in the Nine Hells, my dear.”

“Is there something wrong?” Elnora asked. She gestured at the twenty minions that stood guard throughout the chamber. They were the servant of Scarlet and Schwartz and they were armed, armored and appeared ready to lash out at a moment’s notice.

“You don’t have a lot of enemies in the Nine Hells, do you?” Schwartz asked.

Elnora shook her head in denial.

“Well I do,” Basil said. The dungeon keeper advanced down the hallway. “Let’s just say that there are more than a few powerful individuals here that would like to see me dead. Through no fault of my own, I should add. It’s just how Hell works if you’re a famous dungeon keeper.”

Elnora furrowed her brow in apparent confusion. “Are you on bad terms with the other dungeon keepers?”

“I didn’t choose to antagonize any of them,” Basil explained. “See, when my father disappeared, I inherited not only his wealth and name, but also his competition. And if there is one thing that I had to learn the hard way then it was the fact that you can expect no compassion from your fellow dungeon keepers.”

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Basil glanced down at his apprentice. “You should keep that in mind, if you want to become one.”

“But you are not your father,” Elnora reasoned. “Why would they go after you?”

“I am my father’s legacy,” Basil explained. “For all intents and purposes, I am House Doom.

“Tell me, have you ever visited the Guild’s Hall of Fame?” he asked.

Elnora nodded.

Basil raised his hand signaling for the party to stop. They had arrived at the exit. Beyond the doorway spanned a desolate city street. It was enclosed on both sides by large stone buildings. It looked like an industrial quarter, or, perhaps, an abandoned market street, but there was not a single soul in sight.

“My father’s name—von Doom—is currently still at the top of many a list in that gallery,” Basil said and waved for the party to advance. “For an ambitious dungeon keeper, a spot on any of those lists is the highest of accomplishments, but the only way to be removed is to perish. There is no room in that Hall of Fame for failures.

“And, since House Doom still stands, so do our—that is—his accomplishments.”

The party left the abandoned cargo facility behind and made their way down the street towards what looked to be an open plaza. The minions moved quickly, scouting the path ahead for any danger—Scarlet’s shield maidens along the street; Schwartz’s rangers from building to building.

Basil once more ordered a halt. “Wait here for a moment,” he said and approached the edge of the plaza that now stood before them. It was strewn with rotten market stalls and heaps of garbage.

Having observed the plaza for a moment the dungeon keeper decided that it was safe to proceed with the plan. He raised his hand towards the sky to cast a spell that would signal his position to the Admiral’s forces.

Two magic flares, one blue and the other green, shot forth from Basil’s fingers and trailed off into the red sky of the Chaos realm. It was currently daytime, but there was no sun or clouds to be seen. There was, in fact, no weather whatsoever in this extra-dimensional place. The Nine Hells were unlike any other realm in that regard.

“I have been trying to claim a spot for myself in the Hall of Fame for a long time,” Basil told Elnora as he returned. “But no matter what I do, I find that my father has already set the margin for success. You cannot beat a man who was the first to achieve perfection. Anything after that is just a tribute.”

The hulking dungeon keeper took a deep breath and sighed. Still, he did not mope, but instead managed to crack a smile at the expense of his own misery. “He has left me with everything,” Basil said. “Everything, but the chance to surpass him…”

The succubus pondered Basil’s words for a moment. “Then maybe you should stop following in your father’s footsteps,” Elnora suggested. “Whatever it is that you seek must come from within. Don’t waste your life on trying to be someone else.”

“We are who we are,” Basil answered. “Some things we get to choose and some are decided for us.”

Elnora looked up at Basil with hopeful eyes. “You know… we can always be something more than fate prescribes to us, unshackled and all that...” She had a few more things she wished to say to him, but their conversation was cut short by a shout coming from one of the sentries.

“Ship incoming!” the black clad minion yelled from the rooftop.

True to the minion’s word, a sloop sized ship soon appeared over the city skyline. It had two masts and shimmering white sails not only on top of the wooden craft, but also reaching out sideways form the hull. It was an astral sailing ship, made to navigate the vast expanse of the Astral Sea that surrounded the Nine Hells.

Scarlet noted the colors flying atop the ship’s aft mast. “That’s the Admiral’s flag alright.” Still, she signaled for her warriors to gather around the party into a defensive circle, just in case it that it turned out to be a ploy. Meanwhile, the minions of Schwartz set themselves up in over watch positions in the buildings surrounding the plaza.

In a short while the ship had descended far enough that its hull almost touched the rooftops. It folded in its shimmering wings and braced for the touchdown. While it resembled a sailing ship in design, the bottom of the craft was clearly made for landing on flat surfaces, which rendered it fit for sailing only the calmest of waters, should it ever need to do so.

Elnora jumped in surprise as the sound of gunfire echoed through the plaza. Several steel anchors were fired into the walls of the surrounding buildings from the ship’s boarding cannons.

Scarlet scoffed at the sight of the frightened succubus. “They are just looking to fix the craft in place,” she explained.

Once the anchors had been secured, the ship was slowly pulled down to the ground by its crew. They used the steel tethers for directing the hull amidst the narrow opening of the plaza to avoid striking a house along the way.

As the hull touched the ground, half a dozen sailors jumped overboard and landed gracefully on the stone pavement. Elnora noted that they were all armed. Several of them carried flintlock muskets while others held pistols and swords at the ready. None wore any armor, save for their shirts, pants and boots.

“Gunpowder weapons,” Scarlet growled. “Shields up!”

Scarlet’s minions raised their shields in response to the perceived threat and moved to tighten the defensive circle around Basil. Swords in hand they glared at the approaching sailors, ready to charge at the first sign of danger.

A lone figure emerged at the head of the pack of sailors. The young man carried his flintlock pistols holstered and slung from his belt as he marched directly towards the dungeon keeper’s party.

Scarlet stepped forward and placed her hand on the pummel of her sword, ready to draw it. But she was ushered aside by Basil as he waltzed through the defensive line, towards the sailors.

As the two representatives met in the field between their comrades, the sailor immediately got down on one knee before the dungeon keeper and bowed his head.

“Lord Doom!” he shouted boisterously. “On behalf of Admiral Razazil, I welcome you in District One!”

“Rise, sailor,” Basil commanded.

The brash youth complied. He rose to his feet and presented himself to the dungeon keeper with his chin raised high and chest pointed forward. As his long brown hair settled behind his head, the man was revealed to be a dark elf—almond skinned in comparison to his usually pale cousins. His kind came from desert worlds where the land was parched and vegetation scarce. The hardship they experienced made his kind fierce, as they had to fight constantly to defend their sacred groves from those who would seek to despoil them.

There was a glint of desire in Elnora’s eye as her inner most nature awakened at the sight of the strapping young man. She made an effort to advert her gaze form the confident leader of the ship’s crew. That was her curse as a succubus—to forever risk coming across such alluring people. It was her burden to resist the temptations that were her namesake, lest they consume her.

“The ramp will be lowered momentarily, My Lord,” the sailor announced. “Please, excuse the inconvenience.”

Basil examined the young man standing before him. “What is your name, sailor?”

“Ivar Razazil,” the man answered and bowed his head. “At your service, Lord Doom!”

“Razazil?” Basil asked. “The Admiral is dragon-kin. How did you come by his name?”

“Life in the fleet is not one among strangers, but, rather, among family, My Lord,” Ivar answered. “We are all brothers and sisters under his flag, and the Great Admiral has honored me by naming me his son. Among others…”

“You are an interesting specimen,” Basil said.

The sailor grew tense, but did not resist as the dungeon keeper picked him up by the shoulders and raised him up so as to better examine him.

“A strong dark elf bloodline,” the dungeon keeper noted as he inspected the young man.

“Eh, one of my—great grandparents was—a half-elf,” Ivar stuttered through the examination.

“Racial affinity for magic,” Basil continued, “high agility, but not at the cost of strength. With the right training you could go far.

“A shame that Razazil would never let me have you,” Basil said. “You exhibit the traits and confidence of a good leader in the making.” The dungeon keeper snuck a glimpse at the rest of the crew. “Are you the captain of this vessel?” he asked. Basil then gently lowered the man back down to the ground.

“Acting captain,” Ivar answered as he moved to straighten out his white blouse. “But, fate willing, I will command a ship of my own someday soon.”

A pair of golden throwing dice on a string had fallen out of his blouse during the inspection. Ivar swiftly tucked it back in before the item had drawn too much attention.

Basil nodded. “Then I wish you a long and fortuitous career, young pirate.”

Ivar nodded.

To a loud thud the ramp of the ship was lowered upon the pavement. The vessel had finally been made ready for convenient boarding.

Ivar gestured towards the ship. “If you would please follow me onboard, My Lord, we could set out for the Admiral’s fleet at your leisure.”

Following Ivar’s invitation, Basil and his group climbed up the ramp. Once the last of the guests had boarded, the vessel detached the anchors and gently rose up into the sky.