Dungeons & Demons VIII

The secret passage down behind the waterfall was a steep winding and very slippery staircase, considering how tight the confines of the passage was, I was surprised the large orc [Paladin] had made it down with or without his armour.

We reached the bottom of the slimy stairway just as the timer on my hud ticked down to the three and a half hour mark. [03:29:58]. This meant we'd taken almost one hour to complete the floor above, and that we had roughly two and a half hours remaining to complete this floor and the next, we were just barely on our tight schedule.

When we'd all stepped out into dark round tunnel, the quest completion prompt finally appeared.

The Cockatrice's Egg 3/5.

Search for the Cockatrice's Egg.

Congratulations, you have found the Cockatrice's egg!

This is not the end, however, despite dealing with the pesky Paladin-Captain, you left the High Priest alive and well, behind you, be careful of pursuit!

Reward:

1500 EXP

Bonus Reward:

Total Kill count: 0

Total EXP awarded: 1500

Due to special actions, you have gained:

Luck +1(reduced), Vitality +2.

No kills or contributions meant no bonus EXP for me and I ended up gaining less EXP for the third floor than I did on the second, another increase in Luck and two more in Vitality – no doubt for surviving what was basically a killing blow – made me quite satisfied with the conclusion.

The Cockatrice's Egg 4/5.

Deliver the Cockatrice's Egg.

Now that you have found the Cockatrice's egg, it is time to return it.

Before you can enter her lair, however, you must make your way through the tunnels she has trapped in an attempt to halt the orcs continued raids.

High Priest Ledrik is in hot pursuit, intent on retrieving the egg you stole from him once more, and on getting revenge for his Paladin friend.

Difficulty: Hard, Scaling.

Level recommended: N/A.

Reward: 500 EXP/TL.

"Damn, now I wish we'd had the time to kill the [High Priest] as well."

"Yes, but time is not something we've possessed since we entered this dungeon, we'll have to hope he'll struggle with the traps more than we do, and perhaps perishes in the attempt." Belloff's superior tone riled me up to no end.

"Hope in one hand and wishes in the other does not a sandwich make."

"Err, what's that Empress?" Verrick asked, curious.

"Oh... er, just something someone I once knew said, basically it means we should just deal with what we have and what we know. We have to get through this floor, and the next, to claim this dungeon. We know there are traps, and the [High Priest] has passed through the traps before to get this damned egg. Therefore it seems unlikely he'll perish in them, instead, it is far more likely he'll circumvent them faster than we can. This means we should prepare to fight him at some point down here." That person I once knew had been my father, he'd always been a big believer in using what you had to hand, not wishing for something better, and dismissed anything philosophical as whimsical bullshit. I felt a hint of grief over the fact that I wouldn't be seeing him again now, but I pushed it aside, knowing he'd hate for such an inconsequential thing to get in the way of my problems.

He was a very direct man.

"Well said Empress, though, we should not dismiss any attempts at completing the traps faster than the [High Priest] can before we even start. I for one always like to have some hope in my life, it's not worth living otherwise."

"I never claimed hope was a bad thing, just that we should prepare for the worst."

"A viewpoint I can get behind if we're all done resting I suggest we put words into actions and keep moving."

Belloff had dismissed our conversation after he'd 'put me in my place', and ignored our discussion but once we had moved forward a few steps he'd quickly scampered to catch up.

The tunnel we were in was far different than any of the ones we'd been in above, most of those had been natural gaps in the earth or hand-made, and as such the walls had all been rough and chipped. Here, however, the tunnel had clearly been formed over countless years by the slow erosion that water caused, the tunnel was smooth and uniform. I wondered how long it had been since water how flowed where we now walked, and I wondered if someone had diverted the flow over the river overhead so they could explore these tunnels, or if it had been the natural shifting of earth and water that happens gradually over time. Or, if it were something the dungeon had done.

It wasn't long before we found our first trap. Verrick's hand shooting out and grabbing Belloffs and my shoulders, halting us in our tracks.

"Pit trap, careful."

"Are you sure?" I asked, "I can't see any hints of it."

"Your senses probably aren't enhanced enough due to your restricted state, but I can tell the echoes of our footsteps are slightly off just ahead. Indicative of a hollow space. It seems someone has tunnelled in underneath and weakened the floor at some point. Could be anything down there, but it's probably spikes. Usually is, they're the cliche for such traps, but very effective nonetheless."

"How do we approach this then?" Belloff asked, face pale at his near-miss.

"For you and I? Quite easily, I'll just [Shadow-Walk] us across. For the Empress, it'll be slightly tricker. The floor may still be strong enough to allow one person to cross, making it seem safe for any following, but we have no way of guaranteeing that. Not without an [Earth Mage] or something similar."

Hoping for the best with my Luck was not something I was keen to try. "What do you suggest then?"

Verrick held up the rope we'd used earlier to gain entry to the orcish fort. "Quite simply, I'll tie this to some rocks on either side, then you'll walk across holding it. If the floor falls out, you'll just have to rope-climb the rest of the way. Easy."

Easy... Right... I did see one obvious floor in his plan. "What rocks? The tunnel is completely smooth here."

In answer, Verrick removed one of his short-swords and began making chipping away at the wall, each strike was enhanced by his stupendous strength and he soon had a spike of rock he could loop on end of the rope around. Once done, he tossed the rest as far down the tunnel as he could, then [Shadow-Walk]ed himself and Belloff to the other side.

Once he'd made a similar anchor on the far side, and with some trepidation, I tentatively tiptoed forward, attempting to keep my weight even, and not stomp down on the floor too hard. Unfortunately, my attempts were for nought and I'd barely taken two steps before the floor fell away beneath me, giving me a terrifying look down at the massive rock spikes below.

I had to hug the rope and crawl along the bottom side of it, doing my best to ignore what would no doubt be a painful death below if I were to fall.

I had a few choice words for Verrick when I made my way to the other side, but he just left me to Belloff as he went back for his rope.

The next two traps were practically identical to the first, though the third such trap marked the end of our easy progress forward, for, instead of spikes, bubbling lava waited at the bottom of the trap and I took some minor heat damage as I rope-crawled across the pit.

After that we faced a few more cliche dart traps, a few swinging axe traps and even a massive rolling boulder we had to run from, I say we, but actually, only I did the running, Verrick simply [Shadow-Walk]ed himself and Belloff to the end and then waited for me there.

Him skipping the traps with Belloff in tow became a distressing theme as we continued through the dungeon.

We went through timed fire trapped tunnels where Verrick would discover the pattern then talk me through it from the other side, crumbling staircases where a single slip or misplaced step would drop you into lava, a turning beam where if you lost your balance you'd be thrown into a vat of bubbling tar. Swinging trapezes, obstacle courses that forced you to jump from tiny pedestal to tiny pedestal, all while under threat by football-shaped blobs of lava.

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The traps felt less like traps after a while and more like trials, trials where the reward was yet another timed run over rickety swinging bridges suspended over viscous acid.

I passed all such trials by the skin of my teeth, often with the liberal use of Verrick's rope and the occasional [Shadow-Walk]ed flying save. I had to swallow the Agility potion Felix had provided me about halfway through, the additional 100 Agility making all the difference for the thirty minutes it was active.

At the end of each trying obstacle, I'd be met with Belloff's slight sneer and the reminder that we couldn't afford to waste our time.

Ragged and thoroughly pissed off by my Partymates' ease at overcoming the obstacles I had to work my way through, we finally passed the final trap, at the end of which I found I hated the Garb with a vengeance. The magic negating aspect of it anyway.

We entered a cavern, which according to Verrick's mini-map – one updated with our objective through analysing the map in the [High Priest]'s office – was the final step before we entered the Cockatrice's Lair.

I was still kinda annoyed about finding out that a mini-map was only possible through special dungeon-related drops, and that I'd have to get gods-be-damned Lucky to loot one for myself. Thankfully, this was information Felix had provided when I'd asked him about such an item, and when pressed he admitted such items were always bound to the finder, and no one had been able to find a way to transfer it. Even after the person in question had died.

The cavern was far smaller than the one in which Grinkdor was located, being only a few hundred metres in diameter. This one was also covered almost completely in lava, a small stone bridge extended to an outcropping of rock in the centre, then another bridge extended to the only other opening.

Verrick [Shadow-Walk]ed to the island with Belloff, leaving me to traverse the precarious walkway alone. When I was halfway to them, the shouted warning of my companions alerted me that our pursuers had finally caught up with us.

Wasn't this another cliche? A backs to the wall battle against overwhelming numbers whilst surrounded by lava?

The [High Priest] was easily recognisable due to the mitre he wore, and because he was giving some kind of rousing speech to the numerous followers he had brought with him as he chased us. A few of those followers bore obvious wounds and injuries from the traps they'd passed through to get here so quickly, unfortunately, too few of them had such wounds for my liking.

We discussed the merits of retreating to the next floor, but we decided that it was unlikely we'd find a better spot there and that it was far more likely that we'd only find ourselves trapped between two enemies.

Orcs weren't known for their ranged capabilities, and these ones were no exception. Whatever ranged options they may have had were insufficient and were unable to travel the two hundred or so metres from the entrance to the island where we waited for them to approach.

A few minutes after reaching the cavern, and the organised to the [High Priest]'s satisfaction, they began their assault.

We hadn't been idle as the [High Priest] organised his troops, I removed [Into The Fire] and the refilled bloodskin from my [Inventory], I'd stashed them there earlier as I needed my hands free for the various obstacles and my use of two of the potions had given me the free slots necessary.

Technically speaking, I actually had four free slots after that but the Duchess I was impersonating should only have access to five. I had to leave the other two empty.

Not that I had anything to fill those spots with anyway, the chests we'd opened at the end of levels two and three had been just as empty as the first, my terrible Luck kicking in once more, but Verrick just assumed it was because our goal was to claim the dungeon itself, so the dungeon wasn't giving out rewards. That didn't really explain why the chest was present in the first place, but they didn't really understand this dungeon much better than I did – it was similar to using a holo-phone but having no clue how they were built, I assumed – and they didn't find it too unusual.

Belloff drew his borrowed longsword, almost cutting himself when the sword got stuck part way out and he fought to get the rest of the blade out in time.

Our plan was quite simple, we would use the narrow confines of the bridge to our advantage. Verrick would use his throwing daggers to decrease their numbers before they reached us and I would use the [Ring of Minor Blood-Dart] to do the same while its charges lasted.

The [High Priest] had brought about two hundred orcs with him, according to Verrick's mini-map, the vast majority wore boiled leather jerkins and trousers and wielded a variety of weapons, their army was clearly expected to arm themselves and most of them did not look after their weapons properly. I saw many blades with nicks and dents in them, maces and hammers were little better – and sometimes worse – than the larger hammer the giant orc I'd fought earlier had used. Axes were tarnished, still stained with the blood of their previous foes.

Not all weapons were in such disrepair, of course, but many were. There were a dozen orcs wearing chainmail that stayed with the [High Priest] as a personal guard of sorts. They all wielded the largest one-handed sword I'd seen and a slab of metal that I was hesitant to call a shield due to its massive proportions.

We'd have to deal with the cannon-fodder – err... dagger-fodder? - that made up the vast majority of their troops before we could deal with the [High Priest] and his guards.

The platform we stood on was perhaps ten metres in diameter and was completely flat, there were no natural features we could use to assist in our battle, so we waited at the edge of the platform, intent on using the bridge to funnel them to us one at a time, we boxed the space around the bridge off, Belloff and I standing on either side with Verrick standing directly in their way.

I waited until they were in range before I fired off the darts of blood, I had to make what little I had count. Out of the ten shots, eight splashed into the ranks of the orcs charging us, of those eight, three were deflected harmlessly by the smaller shields some of the orcs had strapped to their arms. In all, three of my targets were knocked down into the lava below, and two sustained injuries.

Verrick faired little better, due to the scaling the orcs were probably around Level 4-5, scaled appropriately for my low Level of 6, but for Verrick, who was a Level 100 [Shadowdancer], the very same orcs were the equivalent of level 90+'s, or thereabouts.

He still out-leveled them, as I did, and he also had superior equipment, skills and fighting experience, but nevertheless, it was no cake-walk.

"Out of daggers?" I asked when the nearest orc was perhaps twenty metres from us, I'd lost count of the number of throws he'd made, but was dozens. He'd only killed about twenty to twenty-five of the orcs though.

"Nah, they all had the [Returning] enchantment. I haven't hit any for the last few attacks, though. They've managed to get a few with some kind of projectile deflection skill to the front, continuing would only waste my energy."

He drew his longer blade from over his shoulder, and without shadows writhing upon its surface I could see it was a whipsword of some kind. It more like what a Japanese anime would call a whipsword than the Urumi that was used in India in the past – there'd been similar weapons used in AoH and I'd researched them and many other exotic weapons so I wouldn't be surprised as a tank. The Urumi was a flexible blade that was normally worn coiled around the waist like a belt. Verrick's sword was made of many dagger-shaped blades pushed together. When he activated it to the daggers slipped free of each other and formed three separate 'whips', each piece of metal was joined by shadows.

The blade would have been entirely too dangerous to use in combat in my world, not even the most skilled individual could have avoided harming themselves. But, considering it was one of the strongest individuals I'd met since coming here that was wielding the weapon, I guessed the flexible shadows that joined each blade to the next would allow him full control over the weapon.

Once it had fully activated in its tri-blade configuration, darkness extended from the [Shadowdancer]'s body, first cloaking his form in shifting, writhing shadows, then extending down his arms and on to cover the whipsword.

He then cast the [Globe of Darkness] to cover the platform, just as the orcs arrived, sending fear skittering through their ranks. They'd just seen a deadly exotic weapon readied to do battle with them, then that same person had hidden himself and his allies within a magical darkness that the orcs' natural [Darkvision] could not penetrate.

As Verrick's Partymembers, both Belloff and I could see our opponents just fine. Though, the grey that overcame my vision caused me to stumble as the painful flash-back of my pseudo-death not long before almost overwhelmed me.

I shrugged it off as the joy of battle pushed back the dark feeling.

It was a slaughter, the darkness kept the orcs outside from seeing what happened to their friends, but the darkness did nothing to halt the blood-curdling screams of the dying orcs as Verrick flayed them with his whipsword.

He'd been holding out on us until this point, held back first by the seal on his powers then because he had to save his strength during our earlier fights.

He wasn't holding back now, the three bladed-whips danced about as if they had minds of their own, sliding past defences and removing limbs and heads with ease, keeping the orcs off-balance and left guessing where their death came from.

Belloff and I took a step backwards as we realised we were surplus to requirements in this fight, left dealing with the ravaged and almost dead orcs that were lucky enough to stumble out of his range. Those few orcs didn't live much longer than their fellows and were met with either my frying pan or the borrowed blade of the elf opposite. Neither of us were particularly skilled with our weapons, but skill wasn't necessary when all you had to do was deliver a coup de grace to orcs that practically begged for their end to come, to end the pain of their last moments. We didn't hesitate to carry out our grim work.

"Good luck. Gotta go." The [High Priest] hadn't been idle as we slaughtered his followers, he'd been steadily growing brighter and brighter as we fought and killed the unfortunate orcs. When there were only a half-dozen orcs remaining, the light got bright enough to dispell the [Shadowdancer]'s [Globe of Darkness] and with two short sentences, he disappeared, snapping out of existence as he left us to deal with the rabble he'd left behind.

Verrick was going to go deal with yet another boss monster while we were left behind. How annoying, I'd been hoping to get another chance after my failure to defeat the [Shaman] on the first floor.

Left behind with the useless MoC was quite frustrating, though, at the same time, I was glad I didn't have to face the elite orc guards.

"Step back!" I yelled, then waited for Belloff to do so before I activated [Scatter-fire]. I'd saved the frying pan's ranged enchantment until I really needed it, instead of using it at the start of the battle. A decision I was happy to have made. The twin [Fireball]s – still no Luck in getting more – cleared the first few metres of the bridge, knocking a few orcs off the sides as the flaming spheres battered through their ranks.

I followed the attack with two hasty activations of [Ring of Minor Blood-Dart], the two shots throwing another orc off the side, and giving us some breathing room as the two remaining orcs scrambled to keep their footing.

I dropped the frying pan, it would just get in the way if I held onto it for my next attack, and I couldn't spare the time to store it in my [Inventory].

"Make sure I don't fall off!" I ordered Belloff, I was unsure how he'd manage to do so but I figured I should have some sort of safety net as the Duchess's leaf-bladed spear dropped out of my [Inventory] into waiting hands.

I'd spent some time testing it with Felix before I entered the dungeon, and he'd shared the [Inspect] screen with me.

D'ellikir Royal Guard Spear

A Spear crafted from Elmsilver by the Royal craftsmen of Illiandor, before they bowed to the Imperial forces and became a Dukedom.

These weapons are wielded exclusively by the D'ellikir guards, a sect of guards that trace their histories back to the time that Illiandor had a High King of its own and was not merely a High Duchy in service to the Emperor.

Quality: Exquisite

Rarity: Legendary

Weight: 0.5 KG

Durability: 11866/12000

Enchantments:

Improved Durability, Improved Penetration, Blinding Flash, Deflect Projectiles, Returning.

The Legendary spear had proved to be of even higher quality than the [Into The Fire], and its Enchantments were of a similar level. However, those impressive Enchantments were soon discovered to be inactive when used in conjunction with the Garb, all except the first which only really made it harder to break anyway.

Even without those Enchantments, however, it was still a very sharp spear, and perhaps more importantly in this situation, could be used like a pole to push and trip the orcs off the sides of the bridge.

It didn't take long for me to force the terrified and almost broken orcs off the bridge to join their fellows.

I rushed forward to join Verrick, to assist my – probably temporary – ally and get a chance at killing the [High Priest]. And more importantly, recieve the no doubt impressive EXP for doing so.

I delivered a few more coup de grace's when I arrived, finishing off the last couple of guards that hadn't been killed during the [Shadowdancer]'s initial attack.

I arrived far to late to be of assistance to said [Shadowdancer], however, the blinding magical energies of the orc priest were being contained by shadowy chains, their battle almost over, though, the [High Priest] refused to accept the outcome, blood pouring from his ears, his eyes, his nose as he fought with everything he had to stop the unstoppable as the shadowy chains finally closed in around his flesh and sucked his remaining life force away from him, leaving behind only withered, bleached skin.

With one last whimper of denial, the [High Priest] coughed his last and fell silent.

And with that, we completed the fourth floor.

*