Chapter 74 – Dungeon Vertasha

Name: Trey Bon

Level 32

Class: Infernal Summoner

Name: Izumi Yoshida

Level 1

Class: Blacksmith

Jason Foreti

Level 8

Class: Alchemist

Ashe Landry

Level 27

Class: Rogue

Ashe chuckled loudly at Izumi’s new style swap. The asian girl looked like she’d been pulled straight out of a steampunk time warp and was enthusiastically showing everyone there her findings. The top hat, goggles, pistol, satchel, tight leather outfit and large odd contraption strapped to her back would be enough to keep Ashe amused for the next couple hours.

The group was packing up and getting ready to leave. They’d spent half a day and the last night here already, and they were behind schedule in getting to Dungeon Vertasha. They were smack dab in the middle of Dungeon Crazus territory in the ruined city of Labasta and had seen a couple of its monsters roaming the city beneath them while they watched from above… But now they had a good idea of the patrols the dungeon sent out - how regular they were, how large they were, and what units they were usually composed of.

With the losses they’d incurred from that last fight, Gorthomal had less than half of what he started with. 4 Daema, 6 imps, and his duska wyrm were the remnants of the old summoner’s forces after the brutalizing battle a day prior. Trey’d already lost Charles, Rofa, Tarline and Eeme since arriving in Ornthas too. Things were not looking up with the incredibly unlucky stroke of running into an experienced undead hunting party so early into their journey. They needed to avoid further fights like that at all costs in order to preserve their forces for the dungeon raid they were embarking on.

Ashe casually strode up to Gorthomal and gave him a small nudge with her fingers to get his attention. “How much longer until we reach the citadel you think?”

Gorthomal gave her a sideways glance. “That completely depends on how many groups of bastard undead we’ll have to avoid. We have to move a lot more carefully now that half our force is gone, but I’d say we’ll likely get there late tonight or tomorrow.”

And time showed that Gorthomal was right.

It took them late into the night to get to their destination, moving as stealthily as they could and keeping to smaller alleys with more cover this time around. When they finally stood in front of the enormous citadel, the stars and moons were the only things lighting their path. It loomed like a mountain in itself, with steeples and towers crisscrossing between the various layers of walls.

Instead of taking them through the obvious entrance though, Gorthomal avoided the front gate that stood wide open and went around the base of the first wall to a pile of rubble. Taking out a parchment, he read it to himself and muttered a bit before nodding and pointing to the pile of rocks.

“Remove it.”

His duska wyrm, which was now topside with them, made quick work of the rocks and soon revealed a hidden tunnel buried underneath. Without a word - the old summoner dismissed his wyrm, sending it to the nether realm and then jumped down the hole into darkness.

One by one the others followed until it was only Trey and Atharost left in the back.

“Where’s your elemental?” Trey asked curiously as he stepped forward to follow the others. “I haven’t seen it for a bit now.”

Atharost cast him a glance. “Boxamoth? He’s right in here.”

Atharost tapped on his chest. “I can withdraw him from my body at will, but his fire would have drawn attention to our unit. It is better that we remain hidden considering our losses. I’ll take him out when he’s needed.”

Trey nodded in agreement. Using his night vision and peering into the tunnel, he saw the others waiting further out and down by a ways of twenty or so yards. Jumping in, he soon went to join them.

The tunnel was what used to be an old escape route for the citadel that had caved in, and due to the absolute darkness - this was when Boxamoth came out and torches were lit. Otherwise most of the others wouldn’t have been able to see a hand in front of their faces.

Their path led directly underneath the citadel and deeper underground than Trey’d anticipated. He’d thought they’d be going up, but instead Gorthomal kept them at a route that descended deep into the mountain’s heart. Occasionally they’d come to a crossing point and Gorthomal would mark the stone, then consult his parchment. He took a couple turns over the course of the next two hours with nothing but silence and the sound of trudging feet on the ancient floor accompanying their venture. No undead, monsters, or other living creatures presented themselves the entire time they walked until they eventually came to a circular stone slab blocking the tunnel the entire way around. This stone slab had a single human face carved into it with smooth features and a sad expression, the circumference measuring five times the length of Trey’s body.

Gorthomal came to a stop, catching his breath as he looked up at the face. “This is it… we will soon find out whether or not my contact has been telling me the truth… or lies.”

The rest of them watched as the old man stepped forward, slowly placing his wrinkled hand on the stone slab. Then… he waited.

At first... nothing happened.

Gorthomal began to scowl and curse after 30 seconds of waiting, but immediately upon withdrawing his hand a series of glowing crimson words appeared in the lettering of the Ancient Demon dialect At the same time, the stone face’s grim expression changed: It assumed a malicious grin and then opened its carved mouth to stick out a long, lizard-like tongue. Then it sprouted stone horns from its forehead, to everyone’s surprise, and looked truly menacing.

“YES!” Gorthomal clapped his hands just once in excitement and began to read quietly to himself, as did Trey and the demons who were able to understand what was written.

Jason, Ashe and Izumi however had no clue what was going on, so the two women elected Jason to ask.

Trey then felt a tug on his shoulder and dragged his eyes away from the millenia’s old text. “Yes Jason?”

Jason raised an eyebrow and palmed his mace nervously while looking over his back into the dark tunnel they’d come from. “Hey… uh, can you read aloud? The rest of us don’t understand it and we’re pretty damn curious.”

Trey looked down and saw Napoleon reading it too with a worried expression as the imp fidgeted with his hands before bolting over to Ashe to climb up to her arms. He didn’t blame the imp. The message written there was pretty ominous. He nodded and thoughtfully clicked his tongue a couple times, looking back to the crimson message and began to translate.

“It says in the demonic tongue… Here lies one of three pieces to the soul of Rathamak. Only those who have bonded with demons may pass in peace. To those who are not one with the infernals, turn back. To those that wish to try their hand with fate… pay the blood price to enter. Then experience a death that surpasses death… for your very soul will be forfeited if you wish to acquire the amulet.”

Jason rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Well at least we know Lord Rathamak’s Amulet is really here. It has it advertised on the goddamn doorway!”

Trey nodded warily, eyeing the tongue sticking out of the stone face now set in maliciousness. What did it mean that those bonded to demons may pass in peace? Did that include them as summoners? If it did, this dungeon may be a hell of a lot easier than he’d hoped. “Yeah… any idea what it means by blood price? Is that a sacrifice it wants?”

“That’s exactly what it wants.” Gorthomal grimly muttered. The old man slowly turned to look to Trey, then to Juila. He drew out a long dagger and motioned towards the amazonian. “Give me the slave girl and we’ll get this over with.”

Juila immediately looked horrified. She took a step back, only to bump into one of the armored daema Gorhtomal commanded. Her face paled and contorted with terror as her voice shook. “No… please wait-”

Juila was shoved forward onto the ground and dropped her pack with her own cries of protest intermingled with Jason’s.

“Hold up just a fuckin minute buddy.” Jason put himself inbetween Juila and Gorthomal, folding his arms and staring the summoner down. “Juila is not getting sacrificed. If we need to we can go topside and get us a ghoul or some other undead.”

Gorthomal stared right back. He obviously wasn’t very happy about the intervention and he cocked his head to the side in irritation. He then pointed to the slave. “What good is she to us alive? Using her this way will save us a lot of time getting topside again. I don’t want to make this trip again and endanger ourselves trying to find some other creature to use.”

Jason shook his head again. “Absolutely not.”

Juila’s chest was heaving in a panic and she quickly clung to Jason’s legs like a castaway clings to a newly found raft.

Gorthomal snorted and shot Trey a look. “Perhaps I should sacrifice your friend Jason instead?”

All eyes turned to Trey. The room was tense, and the comment made it all the moreso. Ashe was palming a crossbow with her left hand and a dagger with her right, while Izumi had a hand on her newfound pistol. Even Atharost who usually stood confidently was visibly on edge, a fight with Gorthomal would end up with at least a few of them dead.

Trey didn’t like Gorthomal telling him that they needed to sacrifice one of TREY’S slaves, nor did he like that the old man had just threatened Jason. He didn’t particularly care for Jason sometimes, but overall he still considered Jason more of a friend than an acquaintance despite their differences.

“If we need a sacrifice, let’s go topside and find one.” Trey motioned towards Jason and Juila with his right hand extended. “They’re part of my group. I never agreed to kill them off in order to gain access. Wasn’t part of the deal.”

The resultant silence was nerve wracking, but Trey caught a look of thanks and extreme relief from Juila as her trembling hand passed through her braided raven hair.

Gorthomal didn’t bother hiding his contempt for the decision but eventually threw up both hands in defeat. “Bahh. Fine, I’ll use one of my own since you lack the resolve to do it. I won’t waste more time and I won’t expose us to more danger trying to take an undead hostage.”

The old man stretched out his right arm and sent a mental command to his nearest imp. The little red creature scurried over to him, suddenly very afraid, and was just about to begin begging for its life when Gorthomal slammed its little body down onto the stone tongue protruding from the door’s face.

The little imp let out a screech of pain with the impact that was cut short into a gurgle when Gorthomal’s knife plunged into its throat. Blood ran out from its body and over the stone tongue to drip onto the floor. The imp’s eyes widened and the body twitched for half a minute, but then eventually it went completely still.

Ashe let out a low whistle and nudged Izumi to get her attention. “Damn, that’s fucked.”

Not a moment later and the face of the doorway began to retract the long stone tongue back into its open mouth. Pulling the bloodied corpse of the little imp all the way into the stone chasm, the mouth clamped shut with a crunch and spray of blood.

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Then a new line of text appeared underneath the now-smiling bloodied mouth.

[Ancient Demon] “The blood price has been paid. Welcome to Dungeon Vertasha.”

The text stayed there for another half minute before a grating sound erupted from the walls, floor and ceiling. Seconds ticked by and then the huge stone slab with the face carved into it began to roll to the side - revealing the tunnel’s extending corridor.

Trey hadn’t been to many dungeon complexes before. In fact he’d never actually been inside one, he’d just visited them when escorting loot on jobs in the past. That being said, he was relatively sure most dungeons didn’t require some sort of weird sacrifice to enter. They also usually didn’t leave their entrances unguarded.

It was all very strange.

Nevertheless, just like Jason had noted, the front entrance had specifically expressed what was here. This was it, the amulet Gorthomal was seeking lay somewhere in the depths of this place. Trey just hoped that this wasn’t a trap of some sort… none of this fit.

Gorthomal eagerly took point, rushing ahead with his remaining minions like a drug addict about to find his next dose. His expression had changed immediately after the passage opened. Going forward into the dark, Trey and his half of the group were a little more hesitant and took it a little more slowly to examine their surroundings.

There wasn’t much to see for another twenty yards, but then a sharp angulation in the tunnel led them into a room so vast that the torch light wouldn’t penetrate to the other side. Trey on the other hand, along with Karus and the others who could see well in the dark, were very confused.

It was an enormous, perfectly rectangular room with three giant figurines made from obsidian. One on the right side was of a cloaked, hooded woman sitting on a throne of flames and a pile of human skulls surrounding the base. The middle statue was very similar to what he imagined an archdemon to be. This figure of the archdemon had six sets of wings and a face very similar to that of Trey’s own whenever he shifted into his aspect of the devil... but with many more types of horns. It also had four arms, an extended torso and a long tail arcing about its t-rex legs. The last was of a two-headed dragon with enormous spikes all down the back of its necks, rearing up on its hind legs with wings outstretched and an enormous extra toothy maw set on its underbelly.

Bars were intermittently placed into the base of the wall every twenty or so yards, and creatures of different varieties could be seen behind each set. Trey wasn’t close enough to identify them, but he was certain that many of them were rather large...

As the last of their group finally stepped foot inside, three red gems – one over each of the statues and easily the size of a house apiece – began glowing a dull light to illuminate the room. The creatures behind bars slunk back into shadow and another series of words in crimson lettering (much like the ones on the door getting in) appeared on the ground directly ahead of where they stood.

Again, Trey read it out loud for those who couldn’t read the tongue of Ancient Demon themselves. “Here lies the first of three trials. Only those who are worthy may pass unharmed. Alkir, Mistress of Darkness… Omastein, Sire of Devils… and Jehema, the Wrathmaker… the old gods may choose to save or damn you. Pray at their altars and receive their judgement, or deny them all and fight for survival. Choosing one forgoes the others… be warned.”

Trey’s eyes lifted to Rivia. Many others did the same to look her way.

Rivia wore a smug smirk as she looked back at her master, but she didn’t say anything to clarify what she was thinking. No doubt it was something about how the rest of their blasphemous ideals didn’t compare to her almighty goddess.

Gorthomal on the other hand had already started out towards the demonic statue in the middle. He waved back at them, beckoning them to follow his lead. “Come! Omastein is my patron god. No doubt he will allow us to pass this trial without complication!”

A worried look from Rivia was followed up as she gripped Trey’s wrist in protest. She gently pulled his face over to match her stare. “Alkir and Omastein are natural enemies when they aren’t working together to fight off the celestials… Do not follow him. It would anger Alkir, and she already holds you in very high favor. She even sent me to you to guide you into her loving embrace… Please, let us choose the altar of Alkir to pray at.”

Loving embrace? The Dark Goddess? Here Rivia was again talking about how Alkir had chosen her to guide Trey down the correct path in life. A fable she’d created back in Oblivion for a reason he could not completely fathom, though if he had to guess it had been an ill-concealed attempt to make herself seem more important so that he wouldn’t kill her back when he’d killed so many of her kin.

Then again… he’d heard Alkir’s voice for himself during the sacrifices Rivia had employed. Now THAT definitely hadn’t been an act on Rivia’s part… but he still seriously questioned her original attempt to convince him he was… special.

He rolled his glowing red eyes in irritation and pushed her hand away. “You can drop the act already, Rivia. I’ve heard enough about that story for one lifetime, no need to lie about it anymore. I’ll go with you to pray to Alkir, but cut the shit.”

Rivia’s features furrowed in confusion and she was about to reply when Gorthomal called out again to interrupt.

“Trust me Trey. This is the path we need to take.” Gorthomal beckoned him to follow again with a smile Trey was almost certain was fake… and a little creepy considering his split jaw. “Come on, no need to waste time!”

Trey was a little confused by the enthusiasm, but he shrugged it off and shook his head. “I appreciate the advice... By all means, go pray to Omastein. I’ll be taking Rivia’s word on this and praying to Alkir… We’ve made some real progress lately and I don’t want to throw away all the effort I’ve put in.”

Trey had used every sacrifice prepared by Rivia to send souls to Alkir, and none of the other infernal gods. Every time he did this, it would send him a notification describing how he and Rivia had gained favor with her… why would he choose another one now? Especially if what Rivia said was true - he didn’t want to piss Alkir off. Even if he didn’t really think the gods in this world were all that tangible, they likely had perks and blessings they’d give if you went down their chosen path over time.

Rivia’s smile immediately brightened and she clasped her hands around his to begin leading him towards the altar on the right with the woman on the flaming throne. It didn’t take him more than five feet of walking before Gorthomal stepped in front to block their path. The old man wore a very serious expression and had his arms folded as his minions collected off to the side.

“Please reconsider, young summoner.” Gorthomal grimly pointed towards the statue of the archdemon in the center but kept eye contact as he did. “Omastein will not forgive you if you choose Alkir over him. He will grant you a path to power that Alkir could never even attempt to accomplish… It is a well known fact that Alkir is the weakest of the Infernal Crowns. Be wise.”

Trey’s look of surprise was quickly brought about by Rivia’s own snarl. The priestess stepped forward menacingly, more angrily than Trey’d ever seen her before, and aggressively poked a finger into Gorthomal’s chest.

“Omastein is nothing but a selfish traitorous brute, hellbent on subjecting the lesser demon species to his spawn the devils. Alkir cares for all of demonkind and has already shown us favor.”

Gorthomal slapped her finger away from him and menacingly gripped rivia by the neck. With strength that didn’t seem likely considering the old man’s wiry build, he lifted the demoness off the ground and tightened his grip; snarling into her face. “Touch me again, culn wench, and I’ll rip off your tongue to feed to my imps. You lead the Heir down a path wrought with failures of the past. Eleknar has always followed the word of that pathetic excuse for a goddess, and it has repeatedly cost him. Let the new Heir take a better path, one with a stronger god that will allow repentance for the catastrophic failures of the past and allow for a new rise to glory like none of Eleknar’s previous Heirs have seen before.”

“Gorthomal.” Trey’s hand clamped down hard onto the older summoner’s shoulder. He hadn’t moved aggressively, but the force of his action made his meaning clear. “Put her down. She’s a valuable asset to me… so do it now.”

Trey’d never told Gorthomal about Eleknar. He hadn’t really even discussed it with any of his friends yet, with only Sithis, Talsh’Noc’Un and Napoleon truly knowing what the name of the essence inside him was after those visits to the identifier and then the psychic. He’d talked only to them since about it, so how did Gorthomal know about it?

His thoughts raced and then came to a sudden stop when he remembered how back at the cult rituals he’d been confronted by the high priestess there. She’d told him Omastein favored him, that Omastein wanted Trey to pledge to him and had warned him about Alkir. She’d also told him that she knew that Trey was Eleknar’s host.

Gorthomal had been watching Trey’s shifting expressions but let go of Rivia’s throat as Trey came back to reality. The struggling culn priestess dropped to the floor and began gasping for breath, but her eyes were wide and glued to Trey.

Eventually she pulled herself up to stare at her master in disbelief, not caring at all about the bruised imprint of Gorthomal’s hand around her neck. With a whisper, she reached out and lightly touched Trey’s chest in disbelief. “It… cannot be… Your void essence… You are Eleknar’s Heir? Is that true? Of all the void essence in existence, you inherited Eleknar?”

Everyone in the room heard the words Gorthomal had spoken, and no one had any reason not to believe them.

Trey’s gaze broke off Gorthomal and over to his culn minion. He also caught a glance of how the other demons reacted. Atharost was in absolute shock with his jaw going lax and his eyes widening. The daema were all utterly blindsided by this and two of them even began to kneel before Gorthomal snapped his fingers at them to straighten them up. Karus, on the other hand, had a completely different expression - one of horror. The dwarf thrall was usually upbeat and friendly even despite his terrible hand in life, but now he was quite the opposite. Even fearful.

“Who’s Eleknar?” Izumi asked while straightening her top hat and beginning to fidget nervously.

There was only silence until Trey stepped back from Gorthomal and nodded to Rivia. “Yes I am.”

To his immense surprise, he felt a minor amount of heat beginning to burn along his chest. He looked down, and along the top of his sternum a symbol he’d never seen before was glowing the same color of his eyes - bright crimson. It was a seven-sided star surrounded by a circle, and in the middle of it all was a picture of a three-faced devil.

Gasps were heard from Rivia and two of the daema immediately upon seeing the mark. Muttering began to grow as well, whispers of Eleknar’s name. Trey could only assume that this mark was Eleknar’s mark, though he wasn’t sure why the void essence was finally showing itself to others. Not a second later, and the mark disappeared entirely - leaving no trace behind.

Not wanting to keep Izumi in the dark, he gave her a small explanation of what was going on. “Eleknar… is the void essence I’m bonded to. I don’t really know much about it, but he’s apparently one of ‘The Greater Evils’? Whatever that means. That’s what the identifier I went to visit in Teretog’s market told me, and it’s also what Talsh’Noc’Un has spoken of before. I don’t really understand it, but he’s been sending me these dreams recently…”

Memories of what happened to the psychic who’d dared to venture into Trey’s mind flashed before his eyes and he shuddered, deciding not to bring it up. “... As well as some other uncomfortable experiences. Sithis and I have talked to him just once… and it was… disturbing.”

“You’ve already spoken to him!?” Gorthomal took Trey by the shoulders excitedly and shook him like a doll - the old man’s split face and four wide eyes bordering on hysteria. “You’ve spoken to Eleknar?! What was he like!? I must know!”

Trey was taken aback by Gorthomal’s excitement. “Uh… creepy?”

Immediately the room burst into questions as all of the demons present, with the exception of Napoleon, began to berate him with questions. Things about the fall of some demon city, great wars of the past, how he’d come to acquire Eleknar, and the genocide of Eleknar’s people encompassed most of the queries. Trey didn’t really know how to answer almost any of these questions and he just looked helplessly back and shrugged or straight up told them he didn’t know.

Eventually Atharost was able to clear everyone off of his master and threateningly yelled at everybody to step back. Rivia and Gorthomal were the two most eager of their combined group, but even they were able to get themselves under control.

“Eleknar is one of Alkir’s greatest allies!” Rivia exclaimed excitedly when the ruckus had finally died down. “It is no longer a mystery to me… why Alkir sent me to guide you.”

Gorthomal whirled on the beautiful demoness with a hiss. “Alkir sent YOU? Don’t make me laugh, girl! You are nothing but a worthless culn wench who was taken for your cunt and nothing more! Alkir would never send someone like you to guide one as great as Eleknar’s Heir, and if she did it would only be a testimony to how inferior she is to Omastein.”

The old man began to fumble in his pockets. A second later and he pulled out yet another scroll - though unlike all the others he’d had before, this one was pristine. It’s page was perfectly white with red writing as he unfolded it, and Gorthomal turned it around to show Trey along with all the others.

The words were written in blood, and it contained many paragraphs in the demonic language Trey knew all too well.

“This… is a soul-binding contract.” Gorthomal said slyly, snorting in Rivia’s direction with an air of confidence. The page began to leak mana upwards towards the ceiling in a mixture of red and black, shimmering across the white of the page as the crimson words flared to life. “Prepared by Omastein himself and handed to the high priestess of our cult. He did not know you would be attending our gathering, but he is pleased you did. I was assigned to bring you here to gather you into his flock.”

Trey didn’t bother reading it just yet. He was a little stunned.

Was this a trap? His right hand flew back to Talsh’Noc’Un’s handle as the sword hissed and a multitude of his allies drew weapons. “You tricked me!?”

The old summoner confidently chuckled, not bothinger to command his minions into action and putting a hand up to keep them standing down in the dull red light of the crystals overhead. “More or less. It was for your own good…”

“What is this place?” Trey demanded as Sithis shot to life inside him, keeping keen observation on their surroundings as the two summoners spoke.

Meanwhile the beasts in the outer cages began to roar and some of them took to jumping or gnawing at their bars, expecting a fight and wanting to be in on it.

“Calm yourself, boy.” Gorthomal shook his head and cautiously waggled a finger at the younger man. “Even with that fancy sword of yours and Eleknar within you, the essence has yet to fully bond. You are suppressing it, my god has told us so. You are also inexperienced. It would be very easy for me to kill you right here and now. I would suggest putting your hand back to your side and letting me explain.”

The Earthborn summoner grimaced.

Trey couldn’t deny that fighting this man would likely result in his death. He’d seen him mow down enemies in the two fights they’d shared as allies, and didn’t want to be on the other side of that fence. At the very least it would be a close call and he’d likely lose a couple friends… so no reason to be hasty. If Gorthomal wasn’t actively trying to set him up and just wanted to present him with an opportunity…

Trey loosened his grip on the sword and his friends did the same. Gorthomal nodded in appreciation and put the contract forward for Trey to read, but Trey swept it aside and stepped back.

“No. Tell me what this place is first.” Trey motioned around him and gestured to the three statues. “This obviously isn’t a normal dungeon. I know that much at least.”

“Oh?” Gorthomal chuckled wryly. “But it is a normal dungeon… for those who aren’t one of our kind. To those who aren’t accompanied by infernal summoners or warlocks, this place would have immediately set upon them and sent them to death. This dungeon was created by these three of the Infernal Crowns you see before you... as a set of trials for those who seek the amulet I desire… You may back out at any time, or you may face death in order to acquire it. Many have tried and failed… but it is also something much, much more.”

The old man pointed to the statues. “These altars are blessed by the infernal gods themselves. This is one of the very few places on Nagochus where you are able to acquire a subclass. Each of the three altars represents one of the infernal crowns that demonkind worships… you’ll notice that Tilukt, Bringer of Plagues isn’t here. That’s because only the undead worship him and he cares not for demons.”

Gorthomal pointed to the glowing paper flickering with mana eagerly and took out a quill pen. “No matter. All you need to do is bring this contract to Omastein’s altar, and you will be rewarded with treasures, items of power, a new subclass and knowledge to unlock the greater potential you hold inside you! Just sign in your blood and the contract between you and Omastein will be complete!”