The sun slowly begins to set as Catherine Raingarden sits in the office of the Master of Silest’s Adventurers Guild, a report held in hand as she shakes with anger, her fist crumpling the papers as she finishes reading it.
“Guild Master Alaxander… is all of this true?”
“Yes.”
She slams the report to the table, shouting, “This can’t be true! That little monster, that creature! You’re telling me that… You expect me to believe any of this!?”
The Guild Master looks up at the fuming girl from where he sits behind his desk, keeping his composure as he responds, “Miss Raingarden, I must ask that you compose yourself. Your anger is wasted here.”
“I…!” She crinkles the papers further, as if she could wring the neck of its subject. Taking a calming breath, she gently sets the report down and returns to her seat.
“I apologize for my outburst. That was inappropriate of me.”
“Not at all milady, your anger is understandable, and I commend you for holding back as long as you have.”
Catherine holds her head as she tries to work down her raging emotions, taking a sip of tea, she collapses back into her chair with an exhausted breath.
“To think that that thing… that it managed to do this…”
“Yes, it shames me that our own were fooled into assisting its further escape. For a monster to be able to act like a human, to plan and use trickery to get what it wants, this situation simply continues to worsen by the day.”
Catherine looks over to the Guild Master and asks, “Are we certain that this is everything they know? Should we not turn them over to the inquisitors? What if they are assisting it by withholding information?”
“Milady, are you suggesting that one of our own would collaborate with monsters? To willingly assist in the destruction of Silest?” He asks the girl with a measured look.
“No, but they may have been manipulated into doing so. Tricked by that evil little thing.” She tries.
“Miss Raingarden, they have already been interrogated by our people and representatives of the Church. The Church was even so kind as to loan us one of their Truth Divinators. They spoke only truthfully and answered every question that was asked of them. I will not be sending my people to the Inquisition to be tortured for nothing, not after surviving what they did and managing to bring us back this information. They should be rewarded for their efforts, not punished.” He answers sternly.
Catherine holds back her words before she can say something that she might regret. Lowering her head, she apologizes, “Forgive me, I overstepped.”
The Guild Master slowly takes a breath and apologizes in turn. “My apologies as well, I shouldn’t grow so heated. I ask that we move on from this subject, my people have earned their rest, and we have more important things to discuss.”
“Yes, you are quite right, let’s move on.”
The Guild Master sips his tea, before continuing, giving Catherine a moment to collect herself.
“With this newest information, the Church has been debating whether they should call for the aid of an Immortal. Obviously, there is currently much push back at the idea. The collateral damage alone would most likely be just as bad as if we had just left the situation alone. On top of this, the King and most of the Nobles are against the idea of allowing an Immortal within our borders at this time.”
“A sentiment that I agree with. Immortals can’t be trusted. It would be the same as turning to the Demons for aid.”
“Ah, their point exactly. Suggestions of evacuation had been put forth, but they are dragging their feet.”
Catherine comments. “Yes, I could see that happening. To evacuate an entire city, a valuable port city like Silest no less, over a single Necromancer, a Gremlin at that… It would make us look weak to the neighboring kingdoms and invite them to invade.”
He nods. “Exactly. Even worse yet, some argue that it is too early to entertain such discussions!” He says as he slaps the relevant report on his desk. “They believe that because the Necromancer has only just reached the third layer, that there is still a chance to stop her. That surely the Dungeon will take care of it because no one has ever managed to get past the thirtieth floor.”
“Mhm, but, no one ever has, so there is a chance, right?”
“Milady, this logic only applies to us humans. Here, in our lands, we have only gotten so far, the only Dungeon of ours to ever be conquered being by a Hero. But the Adventurers Guild is spread far and wide and has roots in almost every nation, human or other. Out there, plenty of Dungeons have been concurred. Some have even been converted into farms or even outright destroyed because the owner of that land didn’t like having it there. This Necromancer is not a human, we should not apply the same logic of human limitations to her.”
Catherine bites her lip, distressed at how frail and weak they are. Even herself, a Noble with the gift of Water magic, though still a novice, can’t even begin to be compared to something like a Demon. If it wasn’t for the fact that the Demons seem to hold little desire to expand their territory, humanity probably would have fallen generations ago…
“Then how are we to stop her? The second layer has fallen, and every day people work around the clock to keep the Undead and those mushrooms from breaking out from the entrance. Every day I can see the smoke rising from the Fire Mages burning them away, and every day, more of the Undead attempt to escape.”
“The clearing force should be done gathering soon. Susan’s clan mates from the Golden Mare are mostly ready to go, and we are gathering as many Fire mages and Priests as possible that are above the third tier. We also have alchemists working without rest to try and devise an antidote to the poison we extracted from the mushrooms and the one used to kill your bodyguard. Through… I doubt that an antidote will be ready before the clearing force is set to depart.”
“When are they leaving?”
“Two days, as soon as the Dungeon opens in the morning a strike team will be going in. Their mission will be to cut through the infection and go straight for the Necromancer while more teams will begin work on trying to clean the Dungeon floor by floor… Try to delay the inevitable for as long as we can, should the strike team fail…”
“Two days? In two days, she could be halfway through the third layer! This Gremlin has been alive for not even a month, and yet, she has already cleared the second layer! She even, and I don’t know how this could possibly be true, managed to fight TWO bosses at the same time! In the dark no less…” Catherin holds her hand to her face, utterly exhausted. “We haven’t even talked about this nonsense of her being a Body Mage, or these skeletal abominations of hers. In two days' time, it could be too late.”
He slowly nods his head in understanding. “Yes, but this isn’t something that we can rush. If we send those people in there without them being as prepared as possible, we would merely be sending them in to die. We must make sure that they have as much of a chance to succeed as possible.”
Catherine looks down in defeat, her heart sinking as fulfilling her promise to Lyose is starting to look even more distant by the hour.
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The Dungeon opens, as it does every day at the exact same time that it always does. This phenomenon has been observed and extensively studied by scholars the world over, leading to the universal time keeping system that almost everyone can agree on. Out of a roughly twenty-four-hour day, regardless of how the seasons might affect the duration of the day’s light, it has been agreed upon that the Dungeons always close at exactly twenty-two hours after opening, and then, like clockwork, open their doors again at exactly midnight, two hours later, signaling the transition from one day to the next.
This means that, if a city is affluent enough to have a clocktower in its central square, then it is most likely set to the proper time by using the nearest Dungeon as an indicator of chronomantic accuracy.
It is here, within the heart of the port city of Silest, at exactly midnight, that the doors of the Dungeon once again open, the sound of a bell ringing in the background signaling everyone to the time.
With the sound of stone sliding over stone, the doors open inward, slowly revealing a dark expanse of stone. Within the dark, the only source of light is the gentle glow of little floating spores, glowing with the different colors of the rainbow as they are lifted into the air by a fresh current of air from the outside world.
As the doors finish opening, there is silence for a long few moments before the sound of moaning and grinding teeth can be heard, the scraping of claws on stone growing closer and closer until dozens of dull blood-red lights begin to appear in the darkness alongside the fairy like spores that float about in the air.
The first of the figures emerges from the shadows, slowly and searchingly moving forward on all fours as its rotted flesh is exposed to the light of many shining lanterns.
Yellowed and black marked skin falling away in patches and exposing bone, with blood and puss leaking from every orifice like some sickness granted physical form. Mushrooms of varying shapes and sizes, hanging with transparent curtains of membrane flesh and dangling polyps, cling to and grow from the creature’s back and head, growing over its face and covering one eye. The creature, a female, made apparent by its withered and hanging breasts, opens its mouth and lets out a clicking hiss of a noise as it vibrates its jaw, a half rotted and swelling tongue filling its mouth of yellow teeth coated in green and black poison. If one dared to look deeper, into the throat of the thing, they would find layers and layers of overlapping mushrooms vibrating and clacking against each other to make a nerve wracking, clicking noise.
As the Undead thing makes its call, colorful spores escaping its mouth with every breath, more and more of the horrid creatures begin to emerge from the darkness on jittery and stiff fungus laden limbs, each one clicking and gnashing their teeth as they curiously move towards the outside world.
“Fire!” A commanding voice calls out.
Several voices answer out in unison, chanting as the mana in the air begins to move and gather at the will of man. When the incantations complete, they call out in unison, ““Fire Spray!””
Streams of flowing flame light up the night and fill the entrance of the Dungeon, the Undead creatures within screaming as their rotting flesh boils and pops, turning black and cracked like charcoal under the intensely concentrated heat. The mushrooms that adorn their bodies, popping and exploding like popcorn as they release thousands of incandescent spores into the air.
The Fire Mages adjust their flames, trying to burn away as many of the spores as they can before they have a chance to escape the Dungeon’s entrance and be carried away on the wind. Those few that manage to escape are tracked and followed by teams of men running around with torches, burning the spores the second that they touch the ground.
As hard as they may try, the occasional spore does get away. Flying away on an updraft and disappearing into the sky to eventually land in some faraway place…
“Team 2, ready spells! Team 1, ready for rotation!” The commander calls out, ordering the Mages as they take turns flooding the entrance of the Dungeon with a constant stream of flame, the Undead things within screaming and writhing as the fire burns their bodies away.
Further back, away from the glow of the Dungeon’s entrance and the screams of burning Undead, Guild Master Alaxander stands before a gathering of twenty adventurers, or a full raid party consisting of four groups of five.
“Members of the Golden Mare Adventurers Clan, I thank you for being here today.” Alaxander says loudly as he addresses them, speaking loudly enough to be heard by any onlookers that had stayed up late and gathered to witness this.
“The mission you are about to conduct will most likely be the most dangerous challenge of your lives and holds the safety of this entire city and all her people at stake! In this mission you can risk no mistakes. There will most likely be no Safe Rooms to rest in. If you are injured, it is safe to say that you are already dead. If your suit is damaged, then you are dead. If you fail to replace your filters and breathe in the spores, you are dead. And if any of your allies die, they will most likely become one of the Undead. You cannot afford a single mistake!” Alaxander yells as he addresses the gathered adventurers.
“Supposing that you manage to survive ten floors of poison and fungus filled death, you will be hunting for a high priority target. You are to kill this target on sight, live capture is no longer an option! Your target is a rare, sapient monster, a Gremlin. Despite how unlikely or ridiculous this may seem; this bounty is already responsible for the deaths of over a hundred people! Do not underestimate this enemy!
“The Gremlin’s last appearance is described as have grey and black hair. Large portions of her body are covered in striped, green and black scales that are hard enough to stop most attacks. Her eyes are green, skin used to be a tan color but is now a pale white, she has larger than average breasts, and finally and most importantly, the target has four arms and a pair of wings that are capable of acting as a third set of arms.
“The target’s capabilities are as follows! She can raise and control the dead. Notably, she has an escort of ten, potentially more, highly modified skeletons that are each estimated to be at least a Silver level threat. She was also seen to have raised two bosses from the second layer. Aside from Necromancy, the target is also a Body Mage and is capable of freely alter her body in any way she pleases, this includes the bodies of others if she can touch them for long enough. She possesses a spell that can be cast instantly to inflict debilitating pain at anyone she points at. The target has also displayed a set of highly developed senses and an awareness for danger. And finally, she is believed to be creating the poison and mushrooms through magic. This target is not to underestimated!”
One of the adventurers, Susan the swordswoman, raises her hand and asks a question. “Sir! If I cut her head off, will she die?”
Guild Master Alexander grits his teeth and takes in a breath before answering, the smell of burnt flesh and cooking mushrooms filling his sinuses. “Our current assumption is that is the ONLY way to kill her. The target has demonstrated the ability to nearly instantly regenerate lost limbs and heal broken bones. Anything short of the complete destruction of her body will probably not be enough to keep her down.”
Everyone is quite at this, tension filling the air to such a palpable level that it can be felt on one’s skin.
Letting it all sink in for a moment, the Guild Master continues.
“With the dangers to yourself associated with this mission, and the risk that is carried with failure, the Adventurers Guild, the Kingdom of Sil, and the Church of the Goddess, have unanimously decided on the reward for this mission.”
Looking of the twenty gathered members of the Golden Mare, he declares, “Each member of this mission shall be rewarded with the following. A thousand gold coins, or one Platinum coin in value, in a personal account with the Bank of SilverScale. You will also be granted a title of Nobility, of the rank of Baron, recognized by the Kingdom of Sil and be granted all the rights that such a title holds. And finally, with the Church, each of you that manages to return alive shall be offered the chance to become Paladins of the Goddess, because there is no duty more sacred that the elimination of those who would desecrate the dead. For those who fail to return, your families shall be cared for and want for nothing, your name permanently etched into the Hall of Heros, joining those who have fought for the light of the Goddess.”
People around the area, watching this moment go goggled eyed at the promise of a thousand gold coins. Even just a couple of gold coins would be enough for most peasants to retire on as long as they are frugal. More than that, and they could not just retire, but even invest and make more by becoming business owners. But a thousand gold? A person could easily spend the rest of their lives living in the lap of luxury with that kind of money. They could die old in their bed, having partied their whole life, and still be considerably rich. A thousand gold, or a Platinum, is the currency of Kings. When the value of a kingdom is measured, it isn’t done is silver or gold, but in Platinum. And each of these adventurers had just been promised one.
Guild Master Alaxander continues once the weight of the promised reward has had a chance to set in.
“Now then, knowing all of this. The risks, the rewards. Now is the time to decide. Will any of you leave, or will you stay?”
No one moves to leave, their feet firmly rooted in place as they face forward, looking towards the Dungeon, different motivations shining in their eyes by the light of flames that continue to flow into the Dungeon’s entrance. Greed, determination, justice, a simple desire for a challenge. They each have a reason to face this challenge head on, to do what humanity has done since they first discovered these holes in the ground full of monsters.
Delve into the Dungeon and risk their lives.
Alaxander nods, his hopes placed on the shoulders of the brave men and women standing before him.
“Good. Then put on your hazmat suits and grab your gear. I wish you all luck, and may the Goddess be with you.”