CHAPTER THIRTY

Into the Dungeon

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ALERT! You have entered the dungeon [Red Ruin]!

The first thing Bram did after he crossed the threshold of this new dungeon was to pull out one of the torches he kept stashed in his pack. He meant to light it right away, but the malaise that came with the foul stench in the air made even sparking a match a challenge for the prince.

“Bloody hell…”

Bram took a moment to stop his hand from shaking. He did this by recalling what he’d done outside—the sin of murdering seven people and the nameless faces added to his ledger. The weight of those deaths was heavy indeed. Enough to still his shaking hand.

When the torch was finally lit, the scent of sage wafted out of it. Bram breathed in its uplifting aroma and felt a calm return to his mind.

“It’s not cloud weed, but it’ll do in a pinch,” Bram said, chuckling inwardly at his inside joke.

In truth, the prince wouldn’t have minded a puff of cloud weed right about now. Though he figured that the ill feeling he’d felt as he walked into the Red Ruin wasn’t his alone…and the Loom agreed.

WARNING! The master of the dungeon is trying to influence your thoughts. You may be inflicted by [Fear] or [Panic] if your mental state is weakened.

“The fel voice we heard in the forest is much louder here,” Ravi said as he drew close to Bram. “Although it’s been muted by the scent from your torch. Do you have more?”

At Ravi’s suggestion, Bram passed the remaining two torches to the others. One for Hajime who took up the rear position—mostly to keep him calm—and the other for Bridget who was swift enough to move between the rear and front of their formation at a moment’s notice.

Bridget elbowed Hajime on the shoulder. “Can you believe it…we’re in an actual dungeon like in the games we’ve created?”

“I hope we survive the experience, Bridget-san,” Hajime replied worriedly, though it was clear from the wonder in his expression that he was also enjoying this new challenge. “And maybe find treasure…I would like some treasure.”

“We’ll survive so long as we all stay vigilant,” Bram promised.

“And the treasure?” Hajime pressed.

“That too…probably,” Bram conceded.

With his sage torch held high, the prince took the lead, though he had Chris close by and ready to defend against attacks that might come from beyond the torch’s light.

The Red Ruin’s interior wasn’t unlike the dungeon where Bram met Rowan. At least that’s how it seemed in the beginning. The party traversed through a narrow passage with stone-cut walls covered in vines, and weathered stone floors carpeted with moss.

“It’s too bad we didn’t get the ‘first visit’ boon,” Bridget commented, “but I guess we aren’t the first group to disturb this dungeon, are we?”

“No, we’re clearly not,” Bram agreed.

The light of his sage torch spread over the floor, capturing the appearance of a rotting corpse in robes much like the one Ravi wore. The dead man lay half-seated on the right side of the passage, his back resting against the wall while its vines embraced his body.

“Another one of your guys?” Chris asked.

Ravi nodded.

A quick inspection of the dead man’s pockets uncovered a small pouch of gold griffins, a half-full potion flask, a ring of three woven gold bands, and a yellowing scroll preserved by a wax seal.

“This is Rinzen. He was a Shamvalan like me though you wouldn’t be able to tell now that he’s lost all his hair…” Ravi said.

He passed the ring to Bram.

“This was Rinzen’s treasure. It’s called the Ring of Three Protections, and it was made by a famed jewel crafter of Shamvala. It should help keep you safe, Your Highness,” Ravi explained.

None among the party took it lightly that Ravi thought of Bram’s safety first and foremost. This seemed to them a sign that the Shamvalan was finally choosing to serve the prince in earnest.

“I’ll put it to good use,” Bram promised.

He was about to put the ring on his finger when Bridget grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Sorry, Prince, but this could be the perfect time to test the Loom’s new item feature with the parameters Hajime and I taught the system,” she said quickly.

“Right,” Bram said, nodding.

He recalled the first time he’d shared the Loom’s ‘Administrator Toolkit’ with the otherworlders—a toolkit the Loom itself provided Bram when he asked it to give Hajime limited administrative access to its inner workings—and how Hajime’s and Bridget’s priority was to create a system that would allow the Loom to identify, analyze, and determine the use and impact of an item that was part of a user’s inventory.

Originally, the Loom had to ask an otherworlder if they wanted to register an item with the Loom, which had been the case with the Young Griffin’s Wand. Such a process would become tedious if done for every item the otherworlders collected, so Bridget suggested they teach the Loom to automate the process.

Hajime further rationalized the Item feature update’s priority by pointing out that Earthers were obsessed with collections, and offering items as rewards for quests was a guaranteed way of earning his people’s cooperation. Thanks to this viewpoint, the two otherworlders had spent part of their first day in Bastille cataloging any items they could find in Bram’s stronghold that weren’t nailed down to something. They then used their new catalog to teach the Loom how to understand an item’s status—its inherent abilities and usage—and how to give ratings based on these varied statuses.

“It’s the law of supply and demand,” Bridget had said. “The rarer the item, the harder it is to obtain, the more people will want it.”

“Creating new value for an item beyond the intent of its creation,” Bram had deduced.

“Yes,” Hajime had weighed in. “This is how we’ll get players to do the big quests that will help Lotharin raise its rank in the empire.”

Back in the here and now, once the Loom’s All-Seeing Eye was finished analyzing Bram’s new ring, a new blue window appeared in the air. One that he gladly shared with his companions to show Bridget and Hajime that their hard work had borne fruit.

ITEM: Ring of Three Protections QUALITY: Rare TYPE: Accessory (Ring) DESCRIPTION: A ring crafted by a famed jewel maker of Shamvala. Each of its golden bands contains an enchantment of protection meant to keep its wielder safe from three likely dangers. BOONS: Constitution +5, 50% chance to activate the Barrier spell to protect against a physical or magical attack. NUMBER OF USES: 3 COOLDOWN: 24 hours

“Yatta!” Hajime cheered—to which Bridget replied, “It works!”

They high-fived each other.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“The flavor text is almost exactly how Ravi explained it,” Bridget noticed.

“And the boons are defined by the item feature’s analysis without needing input from Ravi-san,” Hajime observed.

They turned to Bram, each of them with their hands in the air—and the prince returned their glee with a hard slap to each hand that made both Hajime and Bridget grimace afterward.

“Perhaps lessen the force of your excitement next time,” Rowan teasingly whispered into Bram’s ear.

“I-I’m not used to…camaraderie,” Bram whispered back.

“I know… But your days of going at it alone are over,” she promised.

Bram couldn’t help but smile at Rowan’s words.

He never thought that the Ill-fated Prince would ever be accepted by others—to know what it meant to have companions who didn’t look at him with spite or talk ill of him behind his back—and yet here he was on an adventure with those who’ve willingly shed their blood at his side. To Bram, this was a sign of change that was more than he hoped for.

Another thought struck Bram, and he asked Hajime if he could see the status of his wand.

ITEM: Young Griffin’s Wand QUALITY: Unique TYPE: Wand DAMAGE: 1.5 x INT DAMAGE TYPE: Wind PROPERTIES: Versatile WEIGHT: 0.08 lbs. DESCRIPTION: A wand made of top-quality materials whose arcane focus is a griffin’s feather plucked from Brightcloud, the personal steed of Sovereign Johanna Barbara of House Attilan. This ornate wand was the Sovereign’s present to the seventh prince on his seventh naming day, though the prince lacked the talent to use it properly. BOONS: +2 to Intelligence, +20 Magic, +5% spell damage, 2.5% increased magic regeneration speed.

“It has more details now,” Bram said, sounding impressed.

However, in his mind, the prince couldn’t help feeling a tad frustrated. If the system had only been this helpful when he was young, he never would have given his old wand away.

“If y’all are done celebrating, let’s see what else this Rinzen left us,” Chris suggested.

The liquid inside the potion flask was a pale green color which turned translucent when touched by the light of their sage torches. A lock of coarse black hair floated within its depths.

“It’s a ‘Brew of Giant Strengthening. Drinking it will temporarily raise one’s strength to mimic a giant’s power, though the duration of the enchantment will be less since there’s only half of the potion left here,” Ravi explained.

“Which kind of giant?” Bram asked.

“We won’t know until one of us drinks it,” Ravi answered.

“The Loom might know,” Bridget suggested.

She was right.

According to the Loom’s item feature, Ravi’s explanation was spot on except for one tiny detail. The giant whose strength was imbued into this potion belonged to the mountains.

“You think there are many kinds of giant, Bridget-san?” Hajime asked.

“Probably,” she replied. “At a guess, there might be giants representing the elements like this mountain giant does… So, fire, ice, and air…?”

Bram didn’t bother to tell Bridget she had guessed correctly. It was unnerving enough to know such terrifying beings existed on Aarde. He didn’t want to give her nightmares about them too. At least not until she encountered one for herself.

The last item Rinzen’s corpse gave to the party was the scroll whose seal Ravi had just broken.

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned…” Bridget read the words written in dried red ink that was scrawled over a hastily drawn map of the Red Ruin’s interior.

She frowned. “I feel like I’ve heard this line before?”

“You have,” Bram answered with a furrowed brow. “It’s from the song we heard on the Vice Master’s sonusgraph.”

“Loveless,” Ravi supplied.

“Oh, right,” Bridget’s face lit up. Then her frown came back. “But why would he write this on the map?”

“Good question.” Bram was placing the strengthening potion into the potion’s pack clipped to his belt. “But Rinzen’s reason is his to keep. Dead men tell no tales.”

“Mysterious messages aside,” Chris pointed to the drawing, “according to this here map, we’re getting mighty close to this dungeon’s main hall.”

All gazes turned back to the darkness ahead of them.

“Stay vigilant,” Bram reminded everyone.

Then he led the way forward once more.

Rinzen was not the last of Ravi’s fellows the party would meet along this narrow passage. Two other sorcerers of the Coven of Stargazers appeared along the path in a similar deteriorated state as Rinzen’s body, though neither of these coven members possessed any items of note like the ring that now adorned the middle finger of Bram’s left hand. These sorcerers had been dead for months, leaving the party with little doubt that they might not find any survivors in the Stargazers’ expedition.

“You know, Ravi,” Chris glanced over his shoulder, “you never said why your fellows went on their field trip?”

The Shamvalan, who was beginning to look more and more forlorn with each discovered corpse, smiled wanly at Chris. “I’m sorry, but that is a private matter concerning my coven. I can’t divulge our secrets to an outsider.”

“Fair enough,” Chris replied. “Guess we’ll just ask your master after we rescue them.”

Everyone could tell that Chris was trying to sound upbeat for Ravi’s sake, but the slim hope of finding survivors was dwindling.

“Yes,” Ravi replied, a hint of appreciation in his tone. “Thank you…”

Soon enough, Bram felt the breeze on his cheeks and the path finally widened ahead of him. He crossed through an arched entryway of bowed trees and then arrived at a darkened hall so large that his sage torch’s meager light could barely penetrate its veil. This cloying darkness brought with it a malaise that even the scent of sage couldn’t push away completely.

More importantly, the fel voice was louder in here so that even magicless Bram could hear its murmur in the air. It was unintelligible, like the sound of many crickets in a forest, but there was a malevolence to it that was unmistakable. Listening to the fel voice’s call sent a cold shiver snaking up his spine that had nothing to do with the chilly atmosphere around him. He managed to keep this feeling to himself though. While Chris, who stood at his side, wasn’t as subtle in trying to still the quaking of the hand holding his shield.

“No sense cowering in the dark…” Ravi strode forward and then raised his hand high. “Light bright like the sun — Solis!”

A ball of golden light came to life in his hand and then shot upward to hang suspended in the air a good thirty feet high. Once there, the golden ball flared light so bright it was like a tiny sun had descended on the Red Ruin to bathe its interior in a pale morning light.

“Interesting,” Rowan whispered.

The dungeon’s main hall was a massive space with a vaulted ceiling whose supporting pillars had crumbled beyond repair. It was a wonder that the roof hadn’t caved in yet.

“Fuck…” Bram cursed.

The hall was made entirely from the same red rock found by the ruin’s entrance. Stone-cut walls were covered in tree limbs and thick vines that stretched out like pulsing veins pumping cursed blood into the ruin’s bones. The stone-cut floor had a faded design of patterns Bram thought might predate the Imperium’s birth. These designs were hard to distinguish, however, as they were mostly covered by a carpet of moss and fallen leaves.

“Fuck,” Chris agreed.

A wide, sweeping staircase lay about thirty yards ahead. It led up to the second-floor landing where the party could glimpse the stumps of many broken statues. Waiting on this staircase was a small host of weargs. Some of them had taken the forms of flametail leopards while many more had transformed into men whose bodies had taken on beast-like traits. The largest of these leopard men stood waiting at the top of the staircase.

Scarfang glared down at Bram. “I told you we would meet again.”

For now, it seemed he still had his wits about him. Though the glint of hunger was clear on his mostly feline face.

“Yes, you did, and I told you we were going to find our missing sorcerers,” Bram replied.

Scarfang’s glare drifted to the ground between the staircase and the arched entryway Bram’s party was gathered in front of. “You’ve found them.”

“Looks like it,” Bram agreed.

It was a scene that reminded him of his bedroom the day he met Rowan. The moss-covered ground was littered with the bodies of the dead, many of them claimed by Mother Nature’s embrace. It wasn’t hard to deduce their identities either because they all wore the trappings of the Coven of Stargazers.

Bridget’s eyes went wide. “Oh my God, this is horrible…”

She reached out for Hajime’s hand almost as if the comfort of his touch could banish away the horrific scene. It wouldn’t.

“Was it you…?” Ravi’s shoulders shook while his gaze took in the sight of his fallen coven members. When that gaze turned toward the staircase, they blazed with maddening fury. “Did you kill them?!”

The weargs growled though they made no move to attack.

“Tell me?!” Ravi screamed.

He raised his hand, and with a flick of his wrist, starlight flared out of his fingers. This was the beginning of a powerful spell that might have wreaked havoc on the weargs if Bram hadn’t stepped in and placed a gentle hand on the Shamvalan’s shoulder.

“Wait,” he spoke urgently, “things may not be like they seem.”

Ravi gazed sideways at him, and Bram could see the tears pooling underneath the Shamvalan’s eyes.

“Look,” Bram pointed.

The nearest corpse lay a few feet away. It bore no wounds that could have been made by beasts just like the body of Rinzen and the others in the passage. Indeed, if it were not for the pale pallor of their skin and the dead look in their expressions, one might think these sorcerers were only sleeping.

“This…what is this?” Ravi asked.

“‘Tis nature claiming her spoils,” Rowan answered.

She strode forward, and every wearg on that staircase stiffened one by one like a wave of fear swept over them. Even Scarfang’s great bulk seemed suddenly smaller in Rowan’s presence. She ignored them, of course, choosing instead to help Bram dissuade Ravi from starting a fight that might be unnecessary.

“The wounds they possess”—Rowan pointed to a hole in the chest of a nearby corpse and the thick vine popping out of it—“were made after they died.”

“No wearg did this.” Bram’s gaze drifted from the ground to the top of the staircase. “You didn’t kill these sorcerers.”

“No, we did not,” Scarfang relented.

With his admittance, the tension in the hall died down, and Ravi’s hand dropped to his side.

“Then…how?” he asked in a desperate tone. “H-how did they die?”

“I can answer that,” spoke a wizened, raspy voice.

A brown-skinned man with gray dreadlocks appeared from behind Scarfang. He wore the same robe as Ravi’s, though it had seen much wear and tear. He carried a tall wooden staff that resembled a tree branch.

Ravi’s eyes widened at the sight of this new arrival. “Kazem…is that you?”

“You’re finally here, Vice Master,” the brown-skinned man smiled wanly.

“Y-you’re alive?” Hope flashed on Ravi’s face. “You’re alive!”

“Yes…” Kazem leaned on his wooden staff. “…And I have quite the tale to tell.”