Chapter 387 - Another Day, Another Dungeon IV
The night came and went. With an awfully floral dinner crammed down their gullets and a night' under their belts, the northern brigade departed from the city at the crack of dawn. More than half the members were still drowsy, but they were accustomed enough to the carriage that they had no trouble napping on the road. The accelerated pace at which they pushed their packturtles only served to better rock the carriage and send them off to sleep.
In all of the other countries they passed, the sun was an indicator of safe travel—there was too much traffic during the day for most brigands to be out and about. But as per the corpses strewn across the road, Kryddar stood in perfect opposition; the local ne’er-do-wells most often emerged around noon.
Of course, one could hardly judge their identities based on their ragged mugs alone, but all signs seemed to suggest that the bodies belonged to outlaws. For one, there were no wagons or other transports nearby, as was typical of the scene of a robbery, and the murderers had failed to strip the victims’ belongings. The armour they wore was hardly top notch, but it was decent enough to be worth a pretty penny. No self-respecting thief could have possibly left the free money untouched.
Further adding to the confusion were the bodies’ excellent conditions. Most sported only a single wound—a distinct, clear mark to denote a perfect deathblow. Even those who were slashed multiple times had only clean cuts on their persons. And yet, they were haphazard, careless, seemingly conducted by someone who hadn’t thought much of the enemies at hand. A band of thieves was more likely to have produced a set of messier canvases.
Of course, that still did not guarantee that the perpetrator was not a criminal. The evidence pointed just as readily to a slasher or psychopath as it did a warrior acting in self-defense, but the party proceeded at full speed regardless. It didn’t really matter who was responsible. They were coming up on the dungeon, and everyone was itching to conquer it. Or at least that was what Claire thought before she heard a voice in the wind.
Blinking rapidly, she tilted her head and stared off into the distance. Her ears twitched when she raised them overhead, moving to and fro where she picked up the distant sound.
“Claire?” Sylvia groggily raised her head and yawned. Like most of the others, she had opted to nap the morning away. “W-wait Claire!? W-what are you doing!? Stop! That tickles!”
Despite her complaints, Claire continued to bury her face into the fox's tail. She slithered roughly half her body inside, leaving only her own tail to protrude from the tip of the fuzzy appendage.
“Quiet. I’m hiding.” The lyrkress’ voice was muffled, barely audible on account of all the fur.
“From what?”
“Nothing important. Now stop complaining and start pretending that this is normal.”
“How the heck am I supposed to do that!?”
“By acting like nothing is wrong.”
“Uhhh… I guess I can try.”
Sylvia raised her own ears and looked around the forest, but she couldn't find anything worth noting. Eventually, after a few minutes of being on high alert, she curled up again and went right back to bed.
She remained half asleep until she heard the stomping of hooves. There were five sets in all, traveling together with guards posted both in front and behind. The caravan stood out immediately on account of the accompanying species. While there were certainly some moths in the mix, most of the merchants and escorts were foreigners—centaurs. And if their bloodstained armour was any indication, it was they who slew the brigands.
Sylvia sprang to her feet again. Uncertain of what to do, she reached for her tail and tried to produce her wand, only to find her fingers stuck on Claire’s forehead.
“Calm down,” whispered the snake-moose. “They're not with the army.”
“Then why are you hiding?”
“Because.”
“Because what!?”
“Just because.”
“Would the two of you mind sharing the contents of your conversation?” Asked Ciel. “It is rather difficult to hear your whispers through the ceiling, and I suspect it would be best for the rest of us to have our worries placated as well.”
“There’s nothing to worry about,” said Claire. “They’re merchants.”
“Are you sure?” asked Chloe. “They seem to be eyeing us pretty suspiciously.” The merchants’ guards had their eyes fixed on the Vel’khanese carriage and their weapons gripped tightly in their hands. They were clearly ready to attack at a moment’s notice.
“I’m sure.”
The brigade, which was already a little bit faster than the mercantile group, sped up as it gained on the caravan’s rear. Though such an act might have seemed suspicious, it was also a common courtesy. To follow behind the merchants was effectively to take advantage of their safety measures despite not contributing thereto. Such practices were looked down upon and often served as a source of strife between large companies and stragglers. Not to mention, a trailing group was even more suspicious than one that pressed ahead.
Krail, who was in the driver’s seat as usual, waved at the Cadrian troupe when they passed them, but that was the extent of their interaction. The guards kept a careful eye on the outsiders even after they got out in front of them. It almost might have seemed irrational, but with the amount of Cadrian blood on their collective hands, the scrutiny was well deserved.
“I can’t put my finger on why, but I feel like I’ve seen them before,” said Krail. He looked over his shoulder and through the back of the carriage, his eyes fixed on the curious emblem inscribed into the other group’s wagons. It looked like a bottle above a flower, and the text inscribed beneath it attested to the company’s status as a state-sanctioned trader.
“I do not believe we previously encountered any such group,” said Arciel. “No centaur-adjacent encounter has proven anything but hostile.”
“I’m pretty sure I’ve seen their logo before,” said Chloe.
“Claire probably knows who they are, but I don’t think she’s gonna talk,” said Sylvia.
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“Well, either way, we’ll have plenty of time to find out while we’re in town,” said Krail. “We’re supposed to be coming up on it soon.”
“Have we been on the road for that long already?” asked Chloe. She climbed out in front of the carriage and looked down the road. “I don’t see any giant cubes anywhere. Are you sure it’s around here?”
“At least according to the map, it is.” Krail scanned the paper in his hands before scratching the back of his head. “Should be right under that hill, up ahead.”
Following the old man’s finger, the maid found a gradual, unimpressive slope whose peak was marked by a narrow bridge. But nothing seemed to show even as they crested it. Forested hills and valleys extended as far as the eye could see, with nothing to break them up but the suspended silken roadways that cut across the sky.
“That’s weird. We should at least be able to see it by now.” Shielding his eyes from the sun, he raised his eyes to the sky to check that it wasn’t afloat. “Yeah, I dunno. I’ve got nothing.”
“I think it’s probably underground,” said Sylvia. “I can hear a bunch of people noises coming from under us.”
“How the hell are we supposed to get to it if it’s underground?” asked the elf.
“Uhmmm, dunno. Dig, maybe?”
“Somehow, I don’t think that’s right,” said Chloe, with an awkward smile. “There has to be an entrance around here somewhere.”
“You guys are fucking idiots,” grumbled Jules. “Move. Give me the reins.” He steered the wagon off the road and drove it into the forest. He stopped at each of the clearings he encountered, scrutinizing them while the party looked on.
“So it kinda looks like whatever you’re doing isn’t working,” said Sylvia.
“Just shut up and let me do my thing,” said the clam, with a grumble.
It took investigating a fourth open space for his eternal frown to warp into a smirk. The forest floor, which was angled ever so slightly, featured a massive stone door no smaller than one of Svarborough’s gates.
“Told you.” A smirk crossed his lips as he descended from his seat, approached the gate’s lever, and gave it a good old yank. Surely enough, the entrance slid right open to reveal a long, downward path that led right into the earth.
“How interesting,” said Krail. “How did you know how to find it?”
The clam shrugged. “My old village had something similar. Only difference was that we were underwater, so our doors were a bit harder to hide.”
“Wouldn’t that make them easier to hide?” asked Chloe.
“Are you stupid?” The clam rolled his eyes. “You aren’t stuck on the ground underwater and we don’t have any of these stupid goddamn trees.”
“Back in my day, kids respected trees,” grumbled Krail. “Have you ever heard of the tale of th—”
“Less talking, more driving.” Lana, who had otherwise remained silent, drove her elbow into the side of the elf’s stomach.
“First the trees, and now me? Nothing seems to get any respect around here, I swear.” Krail sighed, but despite complaining, he picked the reins back up and got the carriage moving.
For a while, there was nothing to see but earth, and see it in all its detail they did. Though there were no torches to light the way, the spiralling, subterranean path was kept bright by the sun. Somehow, its rays curved around the sandy corners and guided the travellers through the polished stone, even though the door had shut itself behind them.
A few minutes of twisting and turning later, the party arrived in a wide-open space. It was supposed to be a sort of cavern. That was clearly what its shape suggested. Massive stone pillars extended from the floor to the ceiling, made of sandy blocks extracted from the dirt around them. Spikes jutted from the ceilings and floors, naturally formed by the flow of water. And yet, while it had many of the distinctive features that one might have expected from such an underground space, it was difficult to accept as a cavern.
For one, it was just as brightly lit as the hall they passed through. The sun’s rays shone down upon it from directly above, seemingly ignoring the layer of earth between the city and the sky. The giant amber cube that housed the locals accounted for less than a fifth of the total area. The rest was filled with greenery—there was an entire forest growing within the cavern. There were streams; rivers and lakes stemming from different headwaters, and plenty of Kryddarian birthwoods in the areas around them. The trees, grasses, and shrubs were just as unbothered by the lack of a sky as the wolves, bears, and beavers that prowled the misplaced woodland. Not even the birds were affected. They chirped and fluttered, enjoying the world without a care for what lay beyond the walls.
“Is that the dungeon over there?” Chloe pointed at one of the cave’s far corners. It was marked with a maw like a lion’s, fire spewing from within.
“I mean, it’s probably a dungeon of some sort, but I don't think it's the one we're after,” said Krail.
The maw was too popular to be Crimson Rock. There were a number of tents set up around the entrance, and one could see a steady stream of caravans heading between the entrance and the city.
“It's probably that one.” Claire poked her face out from Sylvia's tail and pointed a claw at a large sinkhole.
Krail took a second to look between the map and scene. “Probably, yeah. Should we head right over, or do you think we should stop in town first?”
“I do believe it will be necessary to stop in town,” said Arciel. “There is much for us to prepare.”
“I’m going ahead,” said Claire.
“Wait, what do you mean, going ahead?” asked Chloe.
“I meant what I said.” Escaping from the fox’s tail, Claire shot into the sky and gave her body a stretch. The wind ruffled her hair, just strongly enough for her to enjoy the sensation.
“Claire! Come back!”
“There is no purpose in restricting her,” said Arciel. “Allowing her to venture off by her lonesome is likely to prove far more efficient than diving as a group. Our delayed entry shall provide the fauna with a chance to respawn, so that we might fight larger groups than would be available in her presence.”
“Claire probably doesn’t really wanna stop for rest or anything either,” said Sylvia. “She doesn’t actually need to sleep and I think she just kinda does it ‘cause that’s what everyone else does. Anyway! I gotta go or she’s gonna get too far ahead. I’ll leave a couple of echoes behind and catch up with you guys when you join us in the dungeon!”
“How shall we spot these echoes of yours?”
“They should be really obvious! Oh, and they’ll come find you if you’re nearby!”
Kicking off the top of the carriage, Sylvia launched herself through the air and after her pet. Claire accelerated when she noticed that the fox was gaining on her; she dove out of the sky and ducked down into the forest, weaving past the branches, just out of her best friend’s reach. Still, Sylvia was faster. Using the power of her bardic inspiration, she tripled her speed and nearly caught the tiny snake-moose, but a portal opened in front of her right before she could win the implicit game of tag and warped her back atop the carriage.
Sylvia nearly lost her footing, but with a bit of a scramble, she picked herself back up and opened a portal of her own. The game of fox and moose lasted for ten-odd minutes. They did two full loops around the subterranean space and freaked out most of the local adventurers before Sylvia finally managed to wrap her paws around the lyrkress’ tail.
“Gotcha!”
“Too late. Game’s over.” Claire had come to a stop directly in front of the sinkhole. It didn’t seem all too special at a glance, but her ears were nowhere near as readily deceived as her eyes. She could hear the crackling fire and brimstone, the groaning and roaring of its monstrous inhabitants, and even the waves from the floors below.
The only thing louder was the beating of her heart.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Mhm,” said Sylvia. “Whenever you are.”
“Then let’s go.”
Returning to her humanoid form and wincing as the accompanying pain returned, Claire dove through the entrance and sought the world beyond it.
Log Entry 854743
You have entered the dungeon known as Crimson Rock. Many of the monsters within its depths outclass you.