Chapter 43: Rockmoor Cemetery
TRISTAN
Tristan rose extra early the next morning, well before the sun came up, just as he’d planned to. By his best estimates, which also took into account the guidebook’s extensive data set, running the dungeon alone took most people roughly four hours, including rest breaks. With the early ride to Rockmoor he’d had Cherry arrange, he’d arrive in the cemetery well before most businesses opened their doors. He’d work his way through the dungeon and get back to the manor before Jamal even woke up at midday.
He ran into Cherry in the dining room. She was alternating between sipping and inhaling a dark drink that looked very much like coffee, but the smell was wholly new to Tristan.
"Just make sure you're back in time for dinner tonight," she said, barely opening her eyes.
"I told you already, it shouldn’t take nearly that long," Tristan replied, trying to reassure both himself and her. He wasn’t feeling much of a vote of confidence from her.
“Uh huh. I’ll tell Jamal.”
“You won’t need to,” Tristan tried to explain again. “I’ve done tons of research! It’ll be totally fine.”
But it wasn't fine.
The moment Tristan set foot into the cemetery and out of the comforting [Welcome Home] aura of the Embrace’s domain, the whole world seemed to shift. The gate squealed closed behind him. The brightening dawn sky rolled itself up into the eerie black of a moonless, starless night. A chill breeze carried fallen leaves that crinkled as they swept around him and crunched beneath his boots. This wasn’t how Dungeon Delver Dave had described this dungeon. Where was the moon illuminating the dancing skeletons on the nearby hilltop? Where was the ghostly dog in the first room that was supposed to be the first encounter of the entire dungeon?
A new notification popped up, not answering his question but giving him something else to look forward to.
[Quest available: Lonely Dungeoneer]
Complete a dungeon on your own.
Rewards: Achievement, Smart Loot
Smart loot was admittedly a great reward, especially for something Tristan had already planned on doing. The achievement would just be icing on top of the cake.
Tristan cautiously made his way forward, crunching leaves with each footfall. He was thankful that his eyes didn’t take too long to adjust, and he was quickly able to see the stone statue that should have been the marker for the pup, who was still nowhere to be seen.
Something was wrong. He’d clearly jinxed it again. One day he’d learn not to open his big mouth.
The path ahead of him wound down the same hillside he’d expected to find, but that was about all he could see. A dense fog lay atop everything else, completely obscuring all the lower parts of the cemetery, which formed a kind of natural bowl. According to the guides, since this was a natural dungeon, the layout of the cemetery never changed, which meant that at the deepest point of that bowl should be the Grand Crypt, the biggest building of all. That was where the final boss waited, behind a door with three locks that could only be opened by a full set of keys obtained from each of the zone’s minibosses.
Tristan should have been able to see that massive building from anywhere in the cemetery. At least the domed roof with the pointed spire should have served as a guiding needle back to the center of the dungeon.
But the fog covered everything.
It was as he was considering all of this that he heard the first howl. It was followed shortly after by another, farther away, in a different direction.
Tristan had lived his whole pre-Awakening life in a small country town, so he knew the calls of wolves when he heard them. These were like those kinds of howls, but they were definitely deeper. And louder. Whatever had made those howls might be related to the wolves he knew, but they weren’t any variety he’d ever encountered before. Worst of all, there hadn’t been a single word about any wolves--ghostly, skeletal, or otherwise--in the guidebook.
Shit. I got another variant dungeon.
Tristan’s eyes turned back toward where he vaguely saw the hint of the cemetery gate. He’d only just started, so he could easily turn back and sit outside for half an hour to force this instance of the dungeon to cycle. Then he could reenter into what would doubtless be the normal dungeon. But that would mean a lot of wasted time... and a wasted opportunity.
No one has ever seen this variant and reported it.
A part of him was excited about facing the unknown, no matter how much he wished he could have prepared for it. That’s what half the stories about Brightield were: facing the unknown as he rode Pristine into the Frontier day after day. So what if Dungeon Delver Dave was wrong again? How bad could this dungeon variant possibly be?
Tristan decided to stick with it, hoping some of his preparations would pay off anyway. If nothing else, he knew the layout of the cemetery like the back of his hand. He could use that, somehow. Probably even to deal with the pack of wolves that were clearly meant to be one of the dungeon’s early challenges.
Another howl echoed through the fog, this time clearly from down in the bowl. It sent chills down his spine.
Well then, I guess I’ll be staying out of there for a while. He could just follow the ridge and head around to the mausoleum high on the hill in the back. That way, he could stay above the fog and hopefully lure the wolves to where visibility wasn’t an issue. And the mausoleum usually held a miniboss: the skeletal remains of a famous spellcaster.
Taking two more steps, he walked straight into an enormous spider web that somehow wrapped all the way around him with strands thicker than his hair. It had caught him completely off guard, but at least it prepared him for the oversized spider that came at him next.
A minute and several well-executed chops later, Tristan shouldered his sword and pulled the last of the webbing off himself. Now that he knew what to look for, he caught the glint of several more webs crossing the path ahead of him. He exhaled slowly and composed himself. He could do this. He was going to do this. Everything would be fine.
- - - - -
The mausoleum had definitely held a miniboss, but in this variant it hadn’t just been the spellcaster’s skeleton any more. The miniboss had instead been covered with decaying flesh seemingly held together by more magic than muscle. Tristan hadn’t ever wanted to see what a decaying person might look like, but now he had. Worse still, because it hadn’t been just mindless, reanimated bones, the boss’s powerful spells weren’t nearly as chaotic and unaimed as expected. They’d been focused, and there’d been no one there to target other than Tristan. A fact Tristan had learned the moment he’d stepped foot into the central burial chamber. He’d felt a little gust of wind just before a large tornado of glowing green wind had formed right beside him. Thanks to the color, he’d been able to see it coming and had jumped away quickly enough that his arm hadn’t been sheared clean off. A nearby stone casket and its resident skeleton hadn’t been so lucky.
The overall fight hadn’t truly been that hard, just a touch gross and fairly time-consuming with all the added dodging. The miniboss had only a few moves, all of them spells with long casting times that made them easily avoidable. This meant that as long as Tristan stopped whatever he was doing and got the heck away from the target areas, he never took any damage. Honestly, it was a pretty good workout.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Thinking about it, the fight might actually have been harder for him with a party, since being the only person in the dungeon guaranteed that every single attack was centered on him, or where he had been. In a group, it might be harder to track the spells, or lead to people running across each others paths and taking damage
He was glad when he finally held the first key in his hand, especially as it proved that that part of the dungeon hadn’t changed with this variant.
The miniboss had also dropped ten small tubes unlike anything that Tristan had ever seen before, though upon reading what [Identify] revealed, he gladly stuffed them into his pack.
[Signal Flare (uncommon)]: Soulbound
Consumable item, 2 second cast time. May be placed with a timer of up to 1 hour. After the timer expires, colored smoke will erupt from the flare, drawing the attention of nearby monsters and applying [Taunt] for up to one minute. All hostile targets in combat with you receive [Distracted] for 1 minute.
Of course, Tristan had to expand the [Distracted] status, too:
[Distracted] 10% chance to miss with all skills, spells, and attacks. Does not stack with other blinding effects.
All in all, the flares weren’t something Tristan had ever really thought he’d needed before, but upon seeing them, he could think of several times where one could prove really useful. It was also nice to have his suspicions confirmed, as the Soulbound tag had once again been applied to the dungeon-generated loot.
It’s good to see I won’t be held back later when I’m running dungeons or raids.
It was common knowledge that at once you rose to tier 3, some of the coolest gear dropped exclusively in raids. He wondered what gear he might someday get from them as he left the mausoleum.
Outside, the darkness had not lightened at all, and the fog still flooded the lower areas of the cemetery, where the two remaining keys (and the minibosses that held them) awaited. Propping his [Oozebane Greatsword] over his shoulder again, Tristan resigned himself to going into the fog. There was no other way. He’d have to do it.
As if to taunt him, he heard a wolf’s howl again from deep within.
He shrugged off the fear that tried to creep up his back and began the descent, making his way for the mostly open field that the guidebook called “The Recent Burial.” Tristan was really hoping this wouldn’t be another decaying monstrosity, but he’d try to be prepared for anything.
It had only been a few minutes of walking when the first wolf monster crashed into him. He hadn’t heard the blessed thing at all, and in fact it had been over a minute since the last time he’d heard a howl. Normally in a dungeon of this tier, there should have been some indication that a fight was about to begin, but the wolf monster didn’t seem to care.
It came out of nowhere, and the moment it jumped him, it became one of the scariest things Tristan had ever seen. Almost the size of a horse, it was covered in thick, shaggy black fur that could only be seen as it blocked sight of the fog around them. Its eyes were just as black as its fur, with only its pupils glowing bright red.
The beast knocked him sideways, with its weight carrying him fully to the ground. It might even have crushed him, had he been any weaker, but he managed to hold it by the muzzle, barely keeping the fangs from his neck.
In that momentary stalemate, where the blessed beast’s mouth was salivating on his neck and Tristan hadn’t quite caught his breath from the fear of the ambush, he used his [Identify], hoping that seeing what it actually was could help him handle this monstrous wolf.
Direwolf, Tristan quickly corrected himself, as he sped through the information his [Identify] spat out.
But one truth that Tristan had already embraced long ago was that he was strong. Currently he had 43 Strength, and that was so far above average for someone his tier that this direwolf didn’t have a chance at out-muscling him once he knew what was going on. Not by itself anyways. He’d heard that wolves traveled in groups, so he had to be cautious in case there was a full pack of them nearby.
Tristan took a better grip with both his hands on either side of the beast’s mouth before jerking it away from him. He actually ended up throwing the thing farther than he’d expected, which would have allowed it to melt back into the shadows if it weren’t for its glowing red eyes.
The eyes that darted just beyond him.
This time Tristan was ready. He was already turning when the new attacker leapt at him. Tristan merely needed to hold his blade out at the right angle, and the second direwolf impaled itself upon it without any extra effort. Then with a simple twist and shake, Tristan shucked the now-bleeding wolf to the ground. The thing didn’t even whine.
The notification that instantly popped up in the corner of his vision was a welcome sight, though he didn’t give it more than a quick glance.
You have slain [Direwolf Prowler, level 12]
Crouching slightly, Tristan waited, expecting another attack at any moment, but none came. The hungry red eyes of the first direwolf were nowhere to be found.
Not willing to move on quite yet, or maybe because he couldn’t tell if he was still being watched, Tristan knelt down beside the fallen beast and examined it a little more closely.
It’s a shame I don’t know how to do anything with all of this fur. I bet it would make a great cloak or cape.
For a moment he debated trying to skin the beast, thinking perhaps to add its pelt to his materials bag. But that would soak the thing in blood, and did he really want to deal with that? How would he even clean the interior of the bag if it did get dirty? He’d never really thought of that.
The second the thought came into his mind, he couldn’t help but laugh. Here he was, surrounded by what might have been the scariest dungeon he’d ever read about, and yet he was worried about doing laundry and getting blood stains out of a material bag. His world sure had changed a lot from before his Awakening.
Continuing through the fog, the only other encounter Tristan had found before reaching his second destination was a circle of twenty or so living dolls, all dressed up in disheveled clothes, with black pits where their eyes and mouths should have been. The dolls were all holding oversized butcher’s knives that looked like the ones his mother might have used in the kitchen. It was intensely bizarre and frightening at the same time, as while none of the dolls proved much of a challenge individually, they all chose to swarm together, and with those kinds of numbers, Tristan couldn’t help but take a few wounds. He just wasn’t used to aiming at such small creatures. He had learned a few sword forms specifically designed to handle overwhelming numbers, but those moves didn’t all adjust well when every attacker was below his knee in height. It was a mess, and Tristan ended up taking more damage from the stupid little dolls than he had from the rest of the dungeon combined. Luckily, he always had health potions with him, and Tristan drank one to avoid having to wait the hour or so it might take for his health to naturally regenerate.
He arrived at the open field where “The Recent Burial” miniboss was supposed to be without any more trouble. The second direwolf still hadn’t shown itself again, and as far as Tristan knew it might have just melted into the night itself. Though it was perhaps more likely that it had gone back to its pack to report the loss of the other prowler, if there even was a pack. He was sure he’d find out sooner or later.
For the first time in the dungeon, there was actually a light source up ahead. It came from the center of the field, where a simple tent provided shelter to a single casket. Tristan approached it warily. Whatever was in that casket was sure to be the miniboss.
At least it seems to be human-sized.
One step at a time, he crept nearer, until eventually he was right beside it. It was empty. Only once he saw that did he get the notification.
[Dungeon quest available: Your Greatest Fear]
Lie down in the casket and close the lid for up to one minute. The longer you remain in the casket, the greater your challenge will be, and the greater the reward. When you emerge, your greatest fear will be made manifest.
Reward: [Key to the Crypt]
Bonus Reward: Upgraded loot for {Crypt Boss}
Tristan stood in quiet consideration for far longer than he’d ever admit. He suspected that if he wanted to breeze through this quest, then he could just enter the casket, close the lid, and open it immediately. Whatever miniboss came from that would be at its weakest possible form.
But what if he stayed in the casket for the full minute? Could he do that? He’d always avoided small and confining spaces whenever possible, and it wasn’t just because he was a big guy. No, he didn’t like feeling enclosed. Feeling trapped. But could he do it for a better reward? Another, more logical part of his mind asked if it would even be smart to attempt such a thing since he was attempting the whole dungeon alone and was wholly unprepared for the variant. Tristan wondered if there would only be one casket for a group, too, allowing them to trivialize the encounter. He doubted he’d come back to test it, and even if he did, the odds of seeing this variant were slim enough he’d likely never know for sure. He could imagine how nice it might be to have a group set up around him, preparing for whatever miniboss might come.
But Tristan was here now, alone. If Tristan were to attempt this, he’d be totally confined, and blind to whatever was happening, for as long as he stayed in the casket.
Another thought bothered him, but in a different way: What would be waiting for him once he emerged? What was he truly afraid of, and how would the dungeon interpret that fear and turn it into a miniboss for him to defeat?