As the wall parted, the group was hit with a stench so vile it was as if the air itself had rotted. The putrid odor of decay and acid hung thick, filling their nostrils and clinging to their throats. Karlach gagged immediately, her nose wrinkling in disgust. "Ugh. What is that smell?" she muttered, her voice strained as she tried to keep from vomiting.
The cavern revealed itself before them—a massive, foul pit where they stood on a precarious stone platform, two-thirds of the way down from the top. Below, a sea of rotting corpses stretched as far as their eyes could see. A sickly green miasma drifted upward, its ominous glow only adding to the scene’s grotesque horror. Shadowheart staggered to the edge, clutching her stomach as she took in the sight.
"I think I’m going to throw up," she mumbled, her hand pressed tightly over her mouth. Her face paled, and she took a step back, visibly shaken by the carnage below.
Wyll stepped forward, his usual composed demeanor faltering as he stared down at the horrific scene. Hundreds, no, thousands of corpses—half-melted, covered in maggots—filled the bottom of the cavern, their twisted remains floating atop pools of bubbling acid. The sound of squirming insects and the acidic hiss of dissolving flesh was enough to turn even the most hardened stomach. "What in the hells?" Wyll whispered, his voice barely audible.
Amidst the gruesome sight, figures clad in dark, grotesque armor knelt in prayer among the dead, oblivious to the party's presence. They wore the unmistakable symbols of Myrkul, the Lord of Bones, the god of decay and death.
Gale’s fingers twitched, arcs of magic sparking faintly at his fingertips as he looked to Zeus. "Should we attack?" he asked, his voice tense, ready to unleash his power on command.
Zeus stepped forward, his gaze locked on the grotesque scene below. His arm shifted, the skin and muscle twisting into a whip-like weapon.. Without a word, he swung his arm, the whipfist lashing out and piercing a dwarf clad in heavy armor below. The strike was so quick, so brutal, that the dwarf had no time to scream as he was impaled and yanked upward like a ragdoll, his lifeless body dangling from Zeus' weapon.
The remaining worshippers, startled by the sudden attack, scrambled to their feet, drawing their weapons as panic spread through their ranks. Zeus brought the dwarf's body to him, and in one swift, horrifying motion, consumed it. The dwarf flesh dissolved into his body.
"These are followers of Myrkul," Zeus said, his voice dark and low, cutting through the tension in the air. "Leave them to me. I need to replenish my reserves." He swung his arm again, this time snatching another figure—a heavily armored knight whose body was crushed in his grip.
One of them, a rogue with daggers gleaming in the dim light, sprinted toward the party, his eyes burning with murderous intent. But Zeus was faster—far faster. He phased out, appearing beside the rogue in the blink of an eye. The cultist barely had time to register what had happened before Zeus’ claws tore through his abdomen. The rogue’s scream was cut short as his body was ripped apart. Zeus's tendrils of flesh grabbed the rogue minced body and consumed them in no more than a moment.
The rest of the cultists, shocked by the sheer brutality, hesitated for a moment, but their hesitation would cost them. Zeus turned. He surged forward, his movements impossibly swift for something his size. His claws, sharp and deadly, tore into the next cultist, slicing through bone and sinew with terrifying ease. Blood sprayed across the cavern as Zeus eviscerated his enemies with monstrous efficiency.
The others barely had time to react. Shadowheart, Gale, Astarion , Alex , Minthara ,Karlach, Lae'zel and Wyll watched in stunned silence as Zeus dispatched the enemies with monstrous efficiency. His movements were savage, inhuman—each strike calculated, each kill brutal. The followers of Myrkul stood no chance.
Another cultist, desperate to strike back, hurled a vial of acidic liquid toward Zeus. The glass shattered against his armor, but it did nothing. The acidic fluid sizzled and steamed on the surface, yet Zeus remained unaffected, his gaze locking onto the attacker. In an instant, he was upon the cultist, grabbing him by the throat. The cultist gasped, his hands clawing at Zeus’ iron grip, but it was futile. With a sickening crunch, Zeus crushed his windpipe and consumed the body.
Zeus' relentless assault was far from over. He spotted another group of cultists gathering near the edge of the cavern, their hands raised as they chanted dark invocations to summon the power of Myrkul. Their voices grew louder, the air around them darkening with necrotic energy. But Zeus wouldn’t allow them the chance to complete their spell. He lunged toward them, his arm transforming into a massive blade, the edges shimmering with deadly precision.
The cultists barely had time to react. Zeus swung the blade in a wide arc, decapitating two of them in one clean strike. Their bodies crumpled to the ground, headless and twitching as dark blood pooled around them. The remaining cultists screamed in terror, attempting to flee, but Zeus was on them before they could take more than a few steps. His blade pierced one through the chest, lifting the body off the ground and pinning it to the cavern wall. The cultist gurgled, blood pouring from his mouth as his life drained away.
Zeus withdrew the blade, letting the corpse fall limply to the ground. The corpses around him, lifeless and mutilated, had served their purpose. They had been offerings, and now he had taken what he needed.
For a moment, there was nothing but the eerie silence of the cavern, punctuated only by the distant bubbling of acid and the occasional drip of blood. Zeus stood amidst the carnage, his form glowing faintly .
The party instinctively took a step back as Zeus turned toward them, his gaze intense. For a split second, they saw the raw power within him—a force teetering on the edge of control. But there was no time to dwell on it.
Suddenly, a sickening squelch echoed through the cavern. A massive pile of corpses shifted, grotesquely slithering together in a display of necromantic horror. Flesh fused with flesh, bone snapped into place, and the dead, long robbed of peace, now formed a towering golem of rotting cadavers. Its misshapen body was a writhing mass of discolored limbs, bloated faces, and gnarled limbs fused together in a macabre display of twisted artistry. Hollow eyes stared out from every angle, their dead gaze filled with silent agony. A haunting wail escaped the creature’s many mouths, and two more monstrosities rose from the decaying pile to join it. From the pools of acid below, several oozes slithered forth, their gelatinous bodies bubbling with corrosive bile.
"Gods..." Gale whispered, gripping his staff tighter as the stench of decay became unbearable.
Before anyone could react, Zeus’ body shifted again, his muscles bulging as his arms transformed into two spiked wrecking balls, the metallic surface gleaming in the dim light. Without hesitation, he leaped into the air with impossible speed and strength. His landing was an explosion of power—he brought both hammer fists crashing down onto the nearest flesh golem, the impact echoing like thunder. The sheer force of the blow reduced the creature to a mangled mess of flesh and bone, its rotten form splattering across the cavern floor in a sickening shower of gore. Blood and viscera rained down, the stench of death thickening in the air.
But the battle had only begun.
As the first golem fell, Zeus’ chest opened up, revealing the glowing orb that pulsed with an eerie light. A deep, unnatural hum filled the air as the orb began to siphon the necrotic energy around them, drawing power from the decaying matter. The very essence of death was being consumed, feeding the insatiable power within Zeus.
The two remaining golems let out a collective howl—a cacophony of agony and rage as they shambled toward him, their grotesque forms moving with unnerving speed. Their limbs dragged along the ground, leaving trails of ichor as their many faces contorted in silent screams. They charged Zeus in unison, their hulking bodies swinging massive fists made of intertwined corpses.
Zeus didn’t wait. His arms shifted once more, becoming leaner but no less deadly. The wrecking balls morphed becoming sleeker. His movements were a blur as he darted around the first golem, using his muscle mass to deliver quick, bone-shattering blows. Each strike was precise, targeting the weak points in the rotting flesh, dismembering the creature with brutal efficiency.
He sidestepped a heavy blow from the golem’s malformed arm, ducking just in time as the fist hit the space where his head would have been. Zeus countered with a powerful uppercut, his fist connecting with the creature’s grotesque jaw. The force of the blow sent the golem’s head flying off its body, crashing into the cavern wall with a wet thud. The rest of the golem’s body collapsed in on itself, the necrotic energy sustaining it dissipating in an instant.
The third golem, charged at Zeus with reckless abandon, its bloated fists swinging wildly. Zeus spun around just in time to dodge the attack, his body twisting with unnatural grace. He brought his fists up, blocking the next strike, but the sheer weight of the golem’s massive arm sent him skidding back several feet, his feet grinding against the stone floor. The blow would have crushed a lesser being in to mush.
He moved like lightning, using the momentum from the golem’s attack to shift around its massive frame. His fists moved in rapid succession, delivering blow after blow to the creature’s side. The necrotic energy sustaining the golem began to waver, its body convulsing as Zeus struck it with pinpoint accuracy. Finally, with one last brutal punch to the abdomens , the golem crumbled, its rotten flesh collapsing into a heap of lifeless corpses.
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But the oozes had already closed in.
The acidic creatures bubbled and hissed as they slithered across the cavern floor, their gelatinous bodies dissolving everything in their path. One of them lashed out, its tendril of slime reaching for Zeus. He dodged it, but another ooze struck from the side, wrapping around his leg with a sizzling grip, but the acid had no effect on him as his armor was covered by a slime pellicle of slime that made him immune to acid damage.
Zeus grabbed the ooze with his free hand, his arm pulsing with fiery light .The creature hissed and writhed in agony, its body being burning from the inside and then dissolving into a pool of acidic goo.
The remaining oozes recoiled, but Zeus was relentless. He lunged forward, grabbing another one by its gelatinous core crushing the ooze in his fist with a sickening squelch. The last ooze attempted to flee, but Zeus was faster. His claw shot out, grabbing the creature mid-slither and pulling it toward him. Without hesitation, he crushed it into nothingness, the remnants of the oozes seeping into the ground.
As the final creature fell, the cavern was once again silent, save for the dripping of acid and the distant hum of necrotic energy still swirling in the air. Zeus stood amidst the carnage, his chest still glowing with power. Not even a speck of blood , cut , of burn in his body.
Zeus sidestepped instinctively as a mutilated body fell beside him, landing with a wet thud. The sound reverberated through the cavern. His gaze shot upward, narrowing as he searched for the source. High above, he caught a glimpse of a figure, barely visible, leaning over the edge of a distant platform. The figure lingered for only a moment before scurrying away into the shadows, leaving nothing but the eerie silence and the oppressive stench of death behind.
The rest of the party followed Zeus’ gaze, but the figure had already disappeared. They strained their eyes, but the dark form was gone, swallowed by the gloom.
Zeus knelt beside the fallen body, his hand brushing over its cold, decaying flesh. Stitches and surgical cuts marred the corpse, as if someone had been experimenting on it, treating it not as a person but as a grotesque object of twisted fascination. The abdomen had been violently torn apart, and something—perhaps organs or other remains—had been cruelly removed.
'Could that figure have been Balthazar?' Alex's body muttered as he stared at the body in disgust. His gaze darted to the platform above.
Shadowheart open her mouth to speak but stopped as she saw what Zeus was doing.
Dark, fleshy tendrils slithered from his body, creeping over the corpses strewn across the cavern floor. The tendrils latched onto the rotting flesh, piercing it as they began their gruesome work, consuming the necrotic biomass. Even though the bodies were tainted with dark energy, they posed no threat to him. The orb embedded within his chest negated any harmful effects as his body absorbed the flesh like a ravenous predator.
The tendrils retracted once his reserves were full, their blackened tips disappearing into his skin. Despite consuming dozens of bodies, the cavern’s floor still teemed with countless more, a sea of death that seemed endless.
Suddenly, fragments of memories flickered through his mind—disjointed and chaotic. Faces twisted in agony. Lives extinguished violently. And one constant: a figure, always present, shrouded in dark robes. A murderer who had taken these lives without remorse, one by one.
Zeus phased out, his body blurring as he teleported next to the party. His voice cut through the tension, cold and deliberate. "I think I found Balthazar," he said, pointing to the stone rampart above. The revelation was heavy, laden with the weight of what lay ahead.
The party turned to look at the platform Zeus indicated. It was high, at least a dozen meters away, with no clear way to reach it. Astarion, scanned the area with a sharp eye. "How do we get up there?" he asked, frustration edging his voice. His gaze flicked across the cavern, landing on a series of stone ramparts. He squinted, noticing something.
“There are stone ledges we can jump across to reach the platform,” Astarion offered, pointing to a series of outcroppings that, while treacherous, could provide a path upward.
Zeus glanced at Astarion. “Good eyes,” he praised, causing the rogue to smirk in satisfaction, the faintest glimmer of pride softening his usual aloof expression.
The ascent was no easy feat. The party climbed a series of vines and jagged rock platforms, the cold, damp air biting at their skin as they neared the cavern's roof. Each step felt precarious, the stone beneath their boots slick and uneven. But the alternative was unthinkable—falling into the pit of death below.
At the top, a sharp breeze swept through the cavern, bringing with it the faint scent of water. To their right, they could feel the cold air of a river or lake nearby, the rhythmic sound of distant waves crashing faintly against unseen shores. But their attention was drawn to their left, where the platform from which the body had been thrown loomed ominously ahead.
A stone staircase wound upward, leading to an imposing structure—dark and foreboding. The bulky metal door at the top stood like a sentinel, barring the way forward.
Zeus swiftly, weaved silken rope with deft precision. "Tie this around your midsections," he instructed, his tone calm but firm. "If anyone slips, this will keep you from falling to your death." The party, did as he said, securing the rope tightly. With their lives quite literally in each other's hands, they cautiously made their way across the precarious ledge, every step taken with deliberate care.
The other side loomed closer, and finally, they reached the bottom of the stairway. Two statues stood like sentinels, armored soldiers with spears clutched in stone hands. One of them—the statue to the left—had its upper half shattered, its decapitated form somehow more ominous than if it had remained whole. Strangely, no rubble was scattered around; it was as if someone had carefully cleared the debris, leaving only the eerie remnants of the destroyed statue.
They ascended the stone steps cautiously, the metallic door before them towering ominously. It was bulky, imposing, and most troubling of all, it had no visible way to open it from this side. Another pair of statues flanked the door, these holding golden-etched parchments that glimmered faintly in the dim light.
"Step back," Zeus commanded quietly. His form shifted, consumed by shadow, and he slithered under the door like a phantom. Moments passed in tense silence, the party's hands gripping their weapons, eyes fixed on the unmoving door. Then, it creaked open, revealing Zeus standing behind it, piles of ash scattered at his feet—remains of the undead he had dispatched with his holy magic.
Zeus raised a finger to his lower part of his covered face, signaling for silence.
They stepped into a dimly lit corridor, the air heavy with the stench of decay. Stone tables lined the walls, some splattered with blood, while others held tightly wrapped bodies . A cart was carefully parked to their left , bodies still in it.
"A morgue," Wyll whispered, his voice barely audible, tinged with revulsion.
Ahead, they saw a set of large, imposing doors to their left, and a smaller, more ordinary one to their right.
“There’s another door there,” Lae’zel whispered, her eyes narrowing as she pointed slightly to the left.
Zeus closed his eyes for a moment, his senses extending beyond the physical. "I sense three minds behind that door," he murmured. "We’ll deal with them first."
Lae’zel nodded, her hand tightening around the blade strapped to her back. The rest of the party followed suit, drawing their weapons with silent precision. They moved toward the right door ,cautiously, tension thick in the air. Zeus kicked the door open, sending splinters flying as the wood shattered under his force.
The room before them was tall and square, but its layout was bizarre. A sunken section in the center created a smaller, lower square, with four towering stone pillars rising from each corner like sentinels. To the left and right, shelves were stacked with jars and bottles, the grim instruments of necromancy. But what lay at the room’s heart drew all their attention.
Three figures, their faces obscured by shadow, were hunched over a grotesque creation—a monstrosity cobbled together from the limbs of various corpses. The creature lay sprawled on a stone table, its head sprouting long nails like some horrific crown, and something pulsed unnaturally on the left side of its chest, glowing with a sickly energy.
The necromancers froze as the door burst open, eyes wide in shock. "Shit," one of them hissed under their breath, realizing their ritual had been interrupted.
There was no time to waste. Zeus surged forward, his body a blur of motion, his hand transforming into deadly claws. The first necromancer barely had time to scream as Zeus’ hand plunged into his chest, tearing through bone and flesh with effortless brutality. The necromancer crumpled to the ground, lifeless, as the others panicked.
Lae’zel was on the next one before he could even draw breath. Her blade sliced through the air with lethal precision, the sharp edge finding its mark in the neck of her target. Blood sprayed across the stone floor, the necromancer’s eyes wide with terror before collapsing, his lifeless body joining his comrade’s.
The third necromancer, trembling, tried to flee somewhere to their left, but Gale’s magic flared. A bolt of blue lightning shot across the room, causing the necromancer's body to spasm. Minthara rushed forward, her mace held high, and brought it down, crushing the necromancer's head.
The battle seemed over, but before anyone could draw breath, the abomination on the table stirred. Its grotesque form shuddered as the pulsing in its chest intensified. With a sudden, violent jolt, it rose from the table, its misshapen limbs cracking grotesquely into place. Sparks of electricity danced across its body, and with a twisted snarl, it raised its hand, a bolt of lightning forming in its palm.
"Scatter!" Zeus roared, but the party was too clustered.
The lightning bolt erupted from the creature’s hand, arcing across the room. Minthara, standing closest, took the full brunt of the blast. The bolt struck her with a violent crack, her body convulsing as the electricity coursed through her. She was thrown backward, slamming into the stone wall with a sickening thud, smoke rising from her scorched armor.
"Minthara!" Shadowheart cried, rushing to her side as the creature roared again, its malformed hand crackling with more energy.
Zeus, moved faster than any mortal could. His arms shifted, turning into long, jagged blades as he charged the abomination. The creature swung at him, but Zeus ducked under the blow, his blades slicing deep into the monster’s side, severing limbs in a spray of blackened blood.
With a final move Zeus plunged his arm deep into the creature’s chest, tearing out the pulsing mass that had fueled its unnatural life. The abomination shuddered violently, then collapsed, its body falling into a heap of lifeless flesh.
Zeus turned to the others. His gaze lingered on Minthara, who was still unconscious, her chest rising and falling shallowly.
Zeus knelt beside Minthara. He placed his hand gently over the spot where the lightning bolt had struck, the area still sizzling faintly from the residual energy , and he began channeling his divine magic. His hands glowed with a soft, ethereal light, healing the wound.
'Shadowheart had tried to heal the wound, but something dark and insidious had blocked her magic. I can sense it—the twisted force clinging to Minthara, suffocating her from within. But my power can break through... ' He thought grimly,
“There’s something wrong,” Zeus said, his voice heavy with concern and confusion. “She is healed, but she is not waking up.”
Shadowheart glanced over her shoulder, her brows furrowing with worry. “Maybe she’s just unconscious,” she suggested cautiously.
Zeus’s gaze never left Minthara, a deep unease settling in his chest. He could sense that something was amiss, a dark undercurrent that his usual strength could not immediately dispel.
Dark tendril of flesh grew from his body snatching the bodies of the necromancers and consuming them.
Memories and visions flooded his mind—fragments of twisted rituals and dark incantations.
“This is worse than we thought,” he murmured, his voice carrying the weight of the dark truths he had uncovered.