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Our Little Dark Age
59 - A detour in dungeoneering

59 - A detour in dungeoneering

Rye woke up to the face of Nali’s placid smile as she poked her awake.

“I have come to inform you of the generally held consensus,” she said, “that you ought to sleep more quietly.”

“Wuh?” Rye blinked blearily. Karla was hurriedly repacking her gear, sending the odd furtive glance her way. Cesare had a kind of grin that made her think she was about to be – or already had been – pranked. “Did I… sleep talk?”

“You certainly did make sounds,” Nali said, her smile wider than ever as Rye turned red as the sea.

Oh great. Welp, it was your dream, you get to deal with the fallout.

Elia promptly disappeared into the far back, leaving Rye alone. “I-I wasn’t… I just had a pleasant dream.”

“Perhaps you’d like to share it with the party,” Mouggen said, already sitting on his finished pile of gear.

“I’d really rather not.”

“Ah, that is fair.”

“C’mon Moug, don’t be such a pushover,” Cesare said. “I’d like to know who or what exactly could tickle those sounds out of our resident tough-girl’s mouth.”

“I-I did not – am not… what even makes you... GAH!” Spitefully, she stuffed her thin blanket away, blanketing the nearby area with a scattershot of glares and well-aimed huffs.

Kess shook his head, chuckling and quite happy with whatever was going on in his mind. “Well, here’s to hoping we make good time today. Who knows, maybe at the end of the road we’ll find your Sammy sitting there waiting all by her lonesome.”

Rye groaned into her hands. He was worse than her brothers.

“I hate you all.”

“E-even me?” Karla stuttered.

“No, Karla, you’re too good for this world.”

“Oh. Yay,” she said and sidled up to Mouggen, who looked equal parts surprised, confused, and disgusted. “I like the way you swing your big sword. It's a flamberge from sunset land, isn't it? Could I perhaps swing it once or twice?”

This was going to be a long journey.

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Soul count: x15,629

Shard count: [Common] x25, [Uncommon] x8, [Rare] x0

Rye and company were making overall good time. The evenly cobbled streets of this odd-looking district ensured a smooth walk, if only the on and off trickle of enemies didn’t bar their journey further. Creatures from everything between beast and human dreg stalked the streets, often in small groups, seldomly in pairs or even alone.

The lone ones were the most dangerous so far. One of them nearly broke her shin when it shifted the earth with a boon, or perhaps magic.

Then there were the less human dregs. Hairy creatures she’d only heard of in fairytales, that littered murals in the oldest chapels and temples.

“Pies, pies, pies!” One yelled.

“Pea-NUTS. NUTS. NUTS,” called another, before Mouggen bisected it shortly after.

You have gained: Soul x105

“Is this normal here?” Rye asked as she stabbed the last one through its chest. It dropped one of those everburning torches, which went to Mouggen.

“What, that the dregs practically run themselves upon our weapons?” Mouggen made sure his dreg was dead with a quick stab through the neck.

“Well, yes. Are they always so… eager to die?”

He just shrugged. Despite her newly acquired boon, she had to suffer through an agonizing amount of convincing before he accepted that the bet he made with Elia didn’t also apply to herself. It was on temporary hold, though she could practically feel how satisfied he was with this little victory. Elia really chose the weirdest guys to get on with. Like Sir Geck the kind and his weirdly obsessive, flamboyant rival, Diolopulos.

Rye couldn’t be the only one thinking that there was a tension between the two bordering on the romantic.

She wiped the remaining blood off her bident. Definitely not the most romantic of scenes. Maybe for all the stars in the sky, she was just missing the moon. “These dregs were quite talkative.”

“I think it’s ‘cause they’re full of souls.” Cesare stepped out from the last corner. “Makes for more animated corpses.”

“You think so?” she asked as he summoned his cloudy fluff and dabbed her all over, removing the gore and making her feel a little bit more refreshed. How nice. “Thank you. Maybe there’s something in the water.”

They all took a peek into the canal. The water was a tinge red only seen in summer wines.

“Nah, that’s just the Ferrish Sea,” Cesare said.

Mouggen nodded. “It’s perfectly normal.”

“The water is quite good for your skin,” Karla said.

Rye shared a stare with Nali, who seemed to have taken more of an academic interest in the red water, recoiling after taking a sip. What was she expecting, the sea to not be salty? Then again, as an outsider - potentially even an earthlander - maybe they didn’t have oceans over there, even if they did have forests.

Am I the only one who thinks that water ought to be blue?

“Well, it is seawater.” Rye felt a befuddled annoyance sweep over her. “But it does look darker than at home. It’s more pinkish there.”

Mouggen was about to say something when Karla cut in with one of her characteristic nervous sounds.

“Umm, don’t mind me,” she said, holding the map in front of her face, “but can we maybe take a short break?”

They did and continued on without much fuss. About an hour later, their navigator perked up again.

“S-sorry, we took a wrong turn. Double back!”

They walked some more, only one person among them slightly grumpy.

I swear she’s just guessing at this point. Where even are we? How long will it take until we’re at her place? I’m telling you, she’s been awfully quiet ‘cause she doesn’t have much to say.

“Oh shush, navigating is hard, especially when the buildings don’t conform to the map.” She looked over her shoulder for any moving house-crabs. Any sign of them – the scrapes along the road and missing houses – had been absent for some time now. Best not to get comfortable. “I trust Karla to tell us if something is wrong. And for lack of concrete proof, I say it wouldn’t hurt you to be a bit more trusting either.”

Hmph.

A heavy gong traveled up and down their bones, sounding much closer this time. As they reached the midway point of their daily travels, they exited an empty alleyway only to come face to face with a massive tower. It bathed nearly half a district in its shadow, and vines as thick as a person climbed up and into its decaying body. Some were even lifting it off the ground at a slight tilt, giving it the impression that it was flying.

I recognize that. We saw it on our flight to Loften. Looks like if Big Ben and the lighthouse of Alexandria had a baby.

“So, uh, here we are.” Everyone turned to Karla. “I, um… you don’t mind a slight detour, do you?”

Rye raised her hand. “I am fairly strapped for time.”

The girl winced, before taking in a deep breath. “Ok, well, I led you to this tower and I’m sorry that I did but I really really need to get up there because there’s a prince that needs rescuing or maybe a princess I’m not quite sure yet but I can definitely feel them resonating with my prince slash princess sense and they are hurting and I need you to help me get them to stop.”

Everyone stared at her for an even longer time.

Mouggen was the first to raise his voice “Why didn’t you say so? If you say there’s a prince or princess up there, then bless the sun, it is our divine calling to free them.”

“The princess sense.” Cesare smacked his forehead. “Of course. It all makes sense now.”

“Does it?” Nali asked. “I am quite at a loss.”

Rye blinked in confusion, before remembering Nali was an outsider. “Oh. Um, well, Nali, princes and princesses can sense other princes and princesses nearby. They are born with an organ below their navel I think. That’s how all the valiant knights rescuing princesses from towers and dungeons turn out to have been princes all along; they were simply following their gut instinct.”

Elia meanwhile was cackling loud and hard.

Oh-oh my gosh, that is the cutest little explanation of where the birds and the bees come from.

“Ah. Intriguing. Thank you, miss Rye, for sharing, for I am now a little wiser.” The monk turned to follow Karla with the rest.

Wait, wait, wait, you weren’t joking? You don’t actually believe this shit, do you?

“It's common knowledge?” It wasn’t hard to believe; Princes and princesses were a different breed from ordinary folk. “They need to reproduce somehow, they’re already an endangered species ever since wizard towers were made illegal. Nothing like distressing a damsel to attract every prince for a hundred kilometers. Do you not have princes and princesses where you’re from?”

I just… you’re telling me royalty has a sixth sense organ for finding each other. It sounds crazy, but your whole worldview is geocentric as well, but THAT has to be true somehow because you’ve got an entire discipline of magic working off of what you know. Screw it, Occam's razor, Karla’s probably just lost. Let’s murk our way to the top of this tower, get a view of the land, then beeline it towards the place we need to go.

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They circled the tower, an affair that took the better part of half an hour. It was absolutely massive, only having stayed out of their sight for so long because this district followed a code of the tightest roads between the tallest buildings. Some of the larger grasping vines stretched down the tilted tower and across the rooftops like a net, casting the ground floor in perpetual gloom.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Rye eyed those with considerable scrutiny. Anything could be hiding in the dark nooks and corners of this wooden spiderweb.

As they walked, they happened upon piles and piles of corpses strewn about, some neatly burned to a knotted mass of charcoal and bone, some simply left to dry in the muggy air. They shouldn’t have bothered her as much as they did. Rye had been put through a lot of involuntary exposure therapy in these past few months.

‘Exposure therapy. What an odd word,’ she thought. ‘Must be one of Elia’s. Just… don’t look. It’s normal, this is fine.’

“Woah, those are a lot of dead people.”

Rye whirled to Cesare. “I know, right? It’s odd. Do they gather here for one reason or another?”

“Might be a place for proxy wars.” Mouggen turned one of the bodies over. “Sloppy slashes. Hacked to bits. Definitely a fight between dregs.”

Their shard-bags are all missing.

“That’s right, Elia.” Rye knelt down, focusing on the belts and only the belts. “They were all looted.”

Mouggen nodded, checking a black mark on one of the dreg’s necks. “They likely had a handler with them, to gather shards and make sure they are guided towards the enemy. We oughtn’t stay here for long. The bodies aren’t fresh, but they weren’t slain ages ago either. Their marks of undeath are still present; they could wake up soon if we’re unlucky.”

Nali, leaning over his shoulder in curiosity, hurriedly stepped back. “Are we still trying for the tower then? There seems to be no way of entry or egress, besides climbing the roots. I could climb them, but my worry goes to all of you.” She expressly directed her questions towards Karla, who fidgeted nervously in place.

“L-let’s just go around the next bend and then see.”

Nobody argued with her. They walked out of a veil of dried vines and onto the wide front steps of what must have once been the foundation of the tower above. A wave of disbelief ran from Elia through to Rye as they practically stumbled over a bowl of respite amidst a sea of corpses.

“A bowl and a mode of entry. What luck. What fortune. Haha.”

Rye gagged at the smell. “Elia, switch. Please.”

Right-o.

Once Elia was in control, she wasted no time looking for loot among the dead bodies. The gear was as rotted and useless as expected, but one piece stuck out to her senses once she used [Psychometry] on it.

Voulge

A polearm with a pointed, single blade. Often called pole cleavers by the city watchmen guarding the sluiceways, for fear of letting a beast of the sea swim inside their canals.

“Hmm. Pole-cleaver. I wonder…” She swung it once, lightly hacking into the neck of a corpse. It got stuck halfway through. Elia clicked her tongue. “Didn’t activate [Cutting Cutlery]. Dang.”

[Cutting Cutlery] was a lot more lax in its definition of a joint than what tools it could apply to. It only worked specifically for tools intended for cooking first, and killing second. It was already lucky that she had found a giant’s spoon that she could sharpen into a halfway decent spear slash glaive. Finding a pot lid to use as a shield was useless as well since the boon enhanced sharpness when cutting and…

“Wait.” She pulled up the first half of the boon’s description.

In service to a lord with great taste, you have toiled your life to refine both palate and plate. You gain an uncanny proficiency with kitchen utensils, and they may never grow dull or crack.

Uncanny proficiency. That was the reason why it had felt so natural to wield an unbalanced spoon, cleaver, or fork. And a shield that would never crack? An innocuous lid that could have one side sharpened enough that it could cut out a knee or through a wrist?

This could work. Elia would find the tower’s kitchen. And then she would plunder it for all it was worth, maybe even make a hamburger.

She returned to the others with a happy whistle, as they were quite happily arguing about what kind of taste they preferred for the bowl water.

*Gong*

Elia didn’t care much, and after a short, vigorous sip of apple-lemon juice she turned to where they were gathered around a lone rope hanging from way up high, like one used to ring a church bell.

“We ought to just pull it,” Karla said. “It might be a mechanism that could help us ascend.”

“Or it might be a trap.” Cesare was standing politely to the side and behind of Mouggen, taking advantage of his bulk and armor. “I think we should leave it.”

“And try our luck with the vines?”

“We should leave this whole tower in general. It’s giving me the shivers. Can’t you feel it?”

“No? W-well, I can feel something else, but… maybe you should have invested in more tenacity.”

“Hah! What do I need tenacity for? I am perfectly served with seven sources of finesse.” He wiggled his eyes like he always did when he was trying to get a rise out of someone. Karla didn’t turn Crimson, but Elia could only say that because the girl turned away with a huff.

Elia gave a look to Mouggen. Mouggen looked right back at her.

“Bet you’re too chicken to pull it.” She grinned a vulpine grin and the golden warrior sighed.

Under much silent protest he walked over to the rope and pulled. It took a while for the sounds of chains and a distant mechanism to reach them. They all craned their necks as a small something detached itself from the semi-floating tower and slowly descended towards them.

The gondola landed with a quiet clank.

“Well, there’s our answer. It’s just a lift.” Karla looked a bit more smug than nervous now. She stepped onto the rickety metal platform and gestured for everyone to follow along.

Elia just looked between the ornate gothic-styled metalwork, the thin chain, and the tower entrance hanging easily a hundred feet above.

“Fluff no. I am not going on that.”

Cesare and Nali walked on, both intrigued by the fine metal flowers woven along the side.

“Oh come on, we’re not seriously using that, are we?”

Mouggen laughed, refraining from making chicken noises as he followed onto it too.

Oh come on, Elia, this is good empire craftsmanship. Loften is famous for its mechanism of lifts. The god of creation and invention literally lives on our doorstep! Compared to all the life-or-death battles out there, trusting one of his works isn’t that bad, is it? It’s… oh, it’s like one of your Elly-vators. Wow. Is that just a naming coincidence, or did you invent those?

“Gaaaah! ‘Eff you all!” Elia set one foot on the metal. She took one deep breath and took the last step. “Let’s get this OSHA violation over with.”

“Alright, here goes.” Cesare pulled the rope again.

The gondola lurched and the ground grew distant, slowly, like pulling a nail. The slight breeze below the rooftops turned into a biting whip. Elia kept a white-knuckle grip on the railing through it all, flinching whenever it swayed by the tiniest amount, quietly muttering to herself.

“I hate this I hate this I hate this.”

Shhh, it’s alright.

“Don’t you shush me, I’m not a scared horse!”

No, that is true. You’re more like a cat.

“I’m not a–“

–and whenever I was scared, you were there to have my back, so let me help you for a change. Do you want me to cheer you on instead?

Elia grumped and grumbled. The journey up was taking minutes longer than she’d have liked.

“… do you have a meditation exercise for fear of birds?”

Hummm. What about one for fear of heights?

“… that’ll work too.”

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At the base of the tower, it felt like the wind was going to lift them off their feet and carry them far across the distant mountain peaks. Elia practically leaped from the rickety lift. She was half tempted to pray, if only to send biting remarks to the god of elevators. Everyone else looked fine. She breathed in, let the breath percolate, and breathed out in a single grumbling note.

The view was breathtaking.

Nali tore her eyes away from the city below and smiled. “I wasn’t aware you were a practitioner. Who taught you how to meditate?”

“The girl inside my head.”

Nali shook her head. “I forget that something like this can be real now. This place is filled with wonders, as many as its terrors.”

“It’s not that balanced.” Elia stared past her, at the bit of ground levitating with the tower. “Ten terrors for every beautiful sight. A hundred beautiful sights to every decent human being.”

The monk smiled. “I suppose I was being overly optimistic. Though, I admit I could never say it looks hopeless. What can be understood can be fixed.”

“How practical minded, for a monk. I thought your kind is all about divesting yourself from anything wordly, even the need to fix stuff.”

Nali shrugged. “Ignorance of anything but the path is the prevailing method for fixing oneself. I keep my eyes open where others choose to walk in a rut. In hindsight, perhaps that is what led me here. If so, I humbly accept this divine punishment.”

“Charming.” Elia found enough strength to stand, if only because looking at the tower made her sway less.

They joined the others who were vehemently arguing with a door. The door was winning.

“Let us in or I’ll lodge a complaint with the magistrate,” said Mouggen.

“Ooh, how scary.” The door said. It had a knocker shaped like a mocking raven. “Please, do try and scratch me. Maybe you’ll take some of the rust off.”

“Please, sir door. We are adventurers, no, heroes on a quest! We have to get past you, there’s a prince or princess locked up in there. Let us in, please?” Karla made her saddest, most pitiable Karla face.

The door laughed, rattling the flanking lanterns.

“What is beyond this door is strong, and you are weak.”

“But–“

“Weak! Furthermore, the dean has disbanded the academy. There is nothing here for you, nor anyone. Now go. You are taking up all the view with your sniveling snotty-nosed face, brat.”

“He called me a brat.” Karla sat on a nearby rock with a thousand-yard stare. Elia sat down on a rock opposite of her. In the background, Cesare had decided to start serenading the door, putting up remarkably well despite its heckling.

“I know you’re hiding something, Karla. Admit it. We’re lost.”

Karla fidgeted in place under Elia’s continued stare. “We’re not exactly lost… do you remember how we were supposed to look for a rogue caster on our last adventure?”

“I wouldn’t call it an adventure.” Rye sent her a mental jab. “I do, yes.”

“Well… this is kind of the place I heard the lunatic was staying in, so… yeah. Umm. Sorry for not telling you.”

“Uh-huh.” Elia leveled a stare at Karla. It took exactly ten seconds for her to break.

“And… and this might be my last chance to do something fun. When we arrive back home to get you your body, I will most likely be locked away harshly for a few months. We won’t see each other for a long time, and mother always told me about her adventures, how she fought side by side with friends and strangers, how she felled great beasts and bested champions of renown. I want to go on an adventure, Elia and Rye, with the both of you.”

That sounded more like a whole truth then. “Why not just tell me? Why all the lies and subterfuge, which let’s be honest, you are really not good at.”

Karla smiled sheepishly. “Because you’d think I’m a fool for wanting adventure, action, and risk. You’d want to take the safe way, the boring way, and then we’d be home in a snap.”

After long, deliberate silence, Elia got up with a sigh. “Alright. Time for an adventure then. But I am so getting a burger after we’re done with all this. Really though, why tell me about the Lunatic of all things? You think I care about that?”

“Well, of course we have to deal with them, unless we want another moonfall.”

A what?

“Yeah, a what?” Elia asked, though she could already picture that anything called a moonfall didn’t imply a happy fun time for anyone involved.

Karla shrugged. “‘It is what it says it is’ my mother used to say. I hear it was terrible. Maybe, if something moves the clouds out of the way, we’ll see what it means. What even is a moon?”

They stared at each other in an awkward silence.

“Alright then. Kill the lunatic, prevent a moonfall, save the princess. Bit involved for a side quest, but it doesn’t change much. I assume we’ll have to fight our way through mooks and bosses? Loot and leveling? They should be at the top of the tower, right?”

“No?”

“Then what’s at the top of the tower?”

“The… roof? Sorry, is this a trick question?”

They stood up, Elia pushing Cesare and Mouggen aside to talk with the door.

“Hey. What’s it take for you to open up. The word of a princess?”

The door did not move. “A princess? Pah, Worga herself would have to pry me from my hinges if all she gave was her title. I was made before her time, I shan’t bend to a usurper nor a tyrant god.”

Everyone took a careful step back. Some eyed the clouds. Some listened for an incoming smiting.

“Hey mister door,” Elia asked. “What’s your name?”

“Dorman. I am ancient. I am the land.”

“You know a door by the name of Dorothy?”

“Why would I? Do you think just because I am a door, I ought to know every other doggy door in the land?”

“Welp. Diplomacy failed.” Elia took off her gloves. “I’ve yet to find a door I can’t pick.”

“Wait, is that…” She felt a gaze from the massive metal architecture lick across her skin. Her left hand, where the ring that Patia had given her, was hot to the touch. “Ah, a student of the academy. Come in then, come in.”

The door creaked open, wind rushing inside.

“Huh.” Elia looked back. “I guess we’re good? Ladies and tanks first.”

Karla brightened up, turning towards adventure like a sunflower to the sun. “That would be me. Follow after, brave lads and ladies. We’ve a dungeon to conquer, a lair to pillage, a lady to save, and a lunatic to slay.”

With pep in her step Karla stepped on through. And then a gooey glob of slime smacked her right in the head.