Dungeons of the Crooked Mountains

by Alexey Osadchuk

  The fox turned sharply toward me.

  “For the record, he earned all these nicknames fair and square. He really was the vanquisher of the Horror of the Depths and killer of the Black Fear, along with many other legendary monsters from our world and others. But none of these names even come close to reflecting his true spirit.”

  “And what was that? His true spirit?” I asked, intrigued.

  How could I not be intrigued? This nondescript guy had turned unknown monsters to dust left and right. It sounded like a cute little fairy tale... Honestly, in fairy tales, the main character is about six feet tall and almost always packed into a suit of shimmering legendary armor. This dude didn’t quite fit the bill...

  “He was a normal man. A loving husband and a doting father. A loyal friend... He led a quiet and inconspicuous life. By the way, he was a fisherman...”

  “Wait a second... So that’s where all the fishhooks on the symbols are from!”

  “Correct,” the foxman nodded. “In memory of the true spirit of the founder of our order, our emblem is two fishhooks.”

  “So why...” I started, but Sly interrupted me:

  “You want to ask how it happened that a simple fisherman founded one of the most powerful orders of this world?”

  Hm... To be honest, this was the first I was hearing of any order of monster hunters, but still I nodded...

  “Alright, I’ll tell you,” said the ghost. “We’ve still got a bit of time... Back then, there lived three brothers, identical in face...”

  I smiled. Who hadn’t heard the tales of the three brothers? So this was the era these tales came down to us from! I wanted to bet five copper it was them, but I bit my tongue. What I heard after that struck me to depths of my soul...

  “Let me tell you, it’d be hard to find a collection of more worthless jackasses... The first was a bad-luck hothead who didn’t know what side of the sword to grip it by. The second, a simpleton archer... And the third - chief idiot among them - a mage, who dropped out of the academy...”

  That knocked the wind out of me.

  “So these three dumbasses took a notion in their empty heads to start calling themselves monster hunters. And they started crowing about their imagined feats on every street corner... Any tavern you’d go into, there they were, sitting all puffed up and self-important, listening to wandering minstrels sing songs of their imaginary feats of bravery. By the way, all these singers and performers would earn pretty good money from the brothers for their performances. Those dunderheads were lucky they were born into the family of a well-to-do merchant. But one day their old daddy died, and that was how they squandered their inheritance.”

  I gulped loudly...

  “What?” the foxman asked, raising his right brow. “Did those paltry verses also make their way down to you?”

  “Did you know the three brothers personally?!”

  “Well sure... And what of it? Wait up...” Sly’s face went long. “Are you trying to say that all the little songs and poems about those dunderheads are taken for the genuine article these days?!”

  I just nodded in silence. I can feel my cheeks burning...

  “What is wrong with you up there?!” the ghost exclaimed in a lather, even stomping his partially transparent feet. “The Amberlands are under sway of Gloom, the foxfolk are used to scare children before bedtime, and the psycho killer brothers are regarded as heroes! I am confounded to the depths of my soul!”

  “The brothers are killers?!” I burbled.

  “Yes... What else do you think they are? They found some old summoning scrolls and decided to perform a ritual. But their ham-fisted attempt to use the thing got the whole ritual wrong. What’s more, the best place they could think to do it was a room in the central hotel... They ended up summoning a pack of otherworldly hellhounds, which escaped to freedom and destroyed the whole city...”

  The fox fell silent for a moment, clearly reminiscing. I won’t even say what I was doing... To find out that the heroes of your childhood fairy tales were completely different in real life... Try telling anybody — they’ll never believe you. They’d even laugh at you. You might even take one to the neck for that.

  “But where there’s smoke, there’s fire,” Sly suddenly continued. “Tangentially, those dumbbells are the reason our order was created...”

  “How’s that?”

  “When Gunnar and the other fishermen returned from a swim, they found their city in ruins and the bodies of their families torn to shreds... I was also there... It was a ghastly spectacle... Not waiting for the local baron to help, Gunnar organized the survivors and met the otherworldly creatures in battle! Almost everyone died, but they did fend off the incursion. After burying the remains of their families, the survivors founded our order. And Gunnar became its head.”

  “And how did you come to be here, beneath the earth?”

  The foxman chuckled.

  “The powers that be. Nobles. That’s the main reason. As the years passed, the order started gaining power. And the bigwigs naturally didn’t like that. They started painting us hunters black in the public eye. Inventing wild fables. It reached the point that our brothers stopped coming down to the city and, after a few assassination attempts, Gunnar decided to leave the surface... The order helped the subterranean folk exterminate the Horror of the Depths, in return for which the king under the mountain gifted us this cave and sent us craftsman to build this city. We didn’t realize what those little jerks stuck us with until it was too late.”

  “You mean the portal?”

  “Correct,” the fox nodded. “That was how we became eternal guardians of the portal...”

  Hmm... A sad story... To be honest, I don’t think I’d be up to it. Living underground next to a thing that might belch out a pack of blood-thirsty creeps at any moment. Yikes, no thanks. And I love the sun...

  “So then, young man, have I sated your curiosity?”

  “Completely...”

  “Then let’s get started.”

  “On what?”

  “What do you mean?” the foxman asked in surprise. “Didn’t I tell you?”

  “N-no...” I turned my head.

  “For your induction into our order, of course!” Sly was shining like a polished copper basin. “Are you ready?”

  “No, of course,” I turned my head again. “Why do I have to do this?”

  The foxman rolled his eyes and rubbed his forehead. Then he asked patiently:

  “Young man, do you remember that I told you if you want to survive, you have to do everything I say?”

  “Yes, you also promised food...”

  “I remember what I promised.”

  “Then how is that connected with my induction?”

  “Oh, believe me, youngster! The connection is very straightforward! You’re wasting time. The faster we finish, the sooner you two can go.”

  I glanced at the harn. Raising his armored head, he licked his lips. My friend hadn’t been getting enough to eat for a few days now... I had no choice but to agree.

  I raised my head and glanced firmly into Sly’s yellow eyes.

  “That’s what I like to hear,” he nodded. “Then let’s get started. Walk up to the statue. Remember, you must answer yes to all my questions.”

  “Got it.”

  When we reached the plinth, I looked up. It felt like Gunnar the Destroyer was staring right at me. I could read grief and sympathy in his calm stony gaze...

  “Eric Bergman of the human race, are you prepared to walk the Path of the Hunt?!” the foxman recited loudly.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “Do you choose to walk the Path of the Hunt of your own free will?!”

  I fell silent for a moment. I glanced back at the harn... And answered:

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have any proof of your intentions?!”

  I stared at the fox in confusion. Opening his eyes wide, he motioned to my knapsack.

  All I could think was to remo
ve the crystals and tokens I’d gotten for defeating the lycanthrope and show them to the foxman. With a rapid swipe, he grabbed both of the crystals and said solemnly:

  “Okay, I see your intentions are serious! Your contribution to the cause of the Order of Monster Hunters has been deemed worthy! From this day forth, you shall be a brother of our order!”

  As soon as the foxman said his last words, a message appeared before my eyes:

  - Attention! You have successfully undergone an induction rite! From this point on, you shall be a Monster Hunter!

  - Congratulations! Your reputation with the Order of Monster Hunters has been increased by 20 points! Happy Hunting!

  - Removed:

  - Small ghostly crystal (2).

  “And that is pretty much it, brother,” the foxman smiled. “The first step is complete. Now it’s time for step two... Let’s go.”

  Not waiting for me to answer, the ghost made a graceful heel turn and in a springy gait walked toward a stone building with massive columns towering at the other end of the forum.

  When we reached the central entryway, Sly casually dropped:

  “This is our arsenal. After the induction, you are entitled to access it. It is currently limited, but that’s a temporary state of affairs...”

  As we walked up the stairs, I habitually noted that the building, just like all other structures in this dead city, hadn’t been visited by anyone for a long time. Green moss was sticking out of every nook and cranny, making it look more like a huge forest cave than an arsenal.

  Once we got inside, I stopped with my mouth open wide. It looked like a gigantic weapons cache. It had every kind of weapon — stabbing, slashing, chopping, bashing, and pointed — and they were hanging on the wall, lying on the ground or standing upright everywhere I looked. My face spread into a dreamy smile... Unable to hold back, I walked up to a sword rack and extended a shaking hand forward. The blade was unspeakably beautiful and drew me in with its predatory shape... As my fingers clenched around its silver gem-encrusted handle, the blade suddenly gave a series of blinks and disappeared. Along with the rest of the weaponry... All that was left was a floor covered in a thick layer of gray dust and the omnipresent green moss on the walls...

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you, young man, but that was all an illusion. It was meant as a smoke screen for our uninvited guests.”

  I looked around, hurt. That was brutal…

  “This way,” the foxman was already standing next to an inconspicuous door at the far wall and beckoning me with a clawed finger.

  I crossed the wide hall and walked through the small doorway.

  We went into a small closet with empty stone racks covered in several millennia worth of dust.

  “And here is our real arsenal,” Sly said with a sad smile. “Or rather, what’s left of it. Time, you know... Only a small remnant of our order’s former possessions still exists.”

  After the glimmering majesty of the main room, this dusty back closet was utterly unimpressive. I looked at the old junk in disappointment and tried to plan out a way out of the crap situation I’d gotten Gorgie and I into...

  Meanwhile, diving into some old trash, the ghost suddenly gave a gleeful shout:

  “Here we go! Found it! Come over here, youngster!”

  Cautiously overstepping the heaps of trash and dust, I came closer to the farthest weapon rack where the foxman was waiting, his face beaming.

  “There you go!” he solemnly pointed at a big long doodad which I could vaguely make out as having rectangular outlines.

  I walked up closer and stared. The thing the happy ghost was pointing was clearly once a trunk of some kind. Not like Crum’s. This was short and long. Almost completely corroded by mold. Knowing my late friend’s passion for all kinds of chests, trunks and boxes, I think he’d have a stroke if he could see this...

  “Well young man, what’s taking so long?” the foxman flared up. “Open it up, and be quick about it!”

  Carefully, or perhaps rather with disgust, I reached for the lid of the box. As soon as my fingers touched the moldering surface, the lid and soon after chest itself fell to dust in the blink of an eye...

  “Hmm...” the foxman said, crestfallen. “Time is merciless.”

  Seeing the cringe on my face, the ghost asked:

  “Young man, have you ever heard the old fable of the gift of the jewelry box?”

  “The one where the man gets a jewelry box for their birthday? And where he never opens it because he thinks the fancy box is the whole gift?”

  “Correct,” the ghost nodded. “But the original story was about a foxman... Anyhow, it doesn’t matter... So then, have you guessed what I’m talking about?”

  I just nodded and crawled over to dig through the dusty remains of the chest. A moment later, my fingers hit upon something hard and rounded. A small vial of dark glass. The size of an apricot.

  - Small Potion of Satiety.

  - Type: Edible.

  - Rarity: Rare.

  - Effect:

  - Sates thirst and hunger. Restores 50% of life force.

  - Quantity:4 doses.

  - Note:

  - Must be inducted into the Monster Hunters to purchase.

  - Not to be taken more than 2 times per day.

  - Price: 1 token.

  - Weight: None. Takes no space.

  I turned to the foxman.

  “I see you have many questions,” he said, chuckling. “These potions were created by our alchemists precisely for cases such as this. After all, our hunters did not always have access to water and food during their journeys. And in other worlds these were especially necessary. But they also have side effects... hm... if you use this potion more than two times per day, you may develop health problems.”

  “What kind of health problems?”

  “It affects everyone differently. Nausea, vomiting, stomach ulcers, diarrhea. I remember one huntress who overdosed on this potion... She would lose consciousness from time to time. In a word, I don’t recommend abusing it.”

  “Gotcha,” I nodded and asked feverishly:

  “What about Gorgie?”

  The ghost raised its hands reassuringly.

  “Your beast can also use the potion.”

  I exhaled in relief and tried to pull the cork from its narrow opening. But it didn’t work.

  “Ahem...” the foxman coughed in embarrassment. “Alas, there is one further detail. Items from the arsenal may only be used after being exchanged for hunter tokens.”

  “Like the ones I got from the lycanthrope?”

  “Exactly.”

  “And how does the exchange work?”

  “Oh!” the ghost’s arms shot up in relief. “That is very simple! All you must do is select the item and say the word ‘purchase’ while throwing your tokens into the air. Let’s try, shall we?”

  “Alright,” I replied, taking out one of the tokens and flinging it upward:

  “Purchase!”

  The small round piece of steel, which had a set of fangs engraved on the back, flew toward the ceiling. And as soon as I said the magic word, they dissolved into thin air...

  - Congratulations!

  - You have acquired:

  - Small potion of satiety (1).

  - Removed:

  - Monster Hunter token (1).

  I immediately popped the cork and brought the vial up to the harn’s nose.

  “Here, buddy. You need this more than I do.”

  Gorgie took a meticulous sniff of the new item and, clearly not finding fault, opened his toothy maw. I carefully tilted the vial back and a bright raspberry-colored drop fell onto his wide tongue. The harn’s supply figures immediately started going up while he licked his lips happily and stared his emerald green eyes at me.

  “Hrn!”

  “Well of course, who would have doubted,” I muttered, and tilted the vial up again.

  When the harn got his second drop, he calmed down and lay down at my feet. A sec
ond later, I heard a satisfied belch.

  “Alright then,” Sly smiled, watching us in silence until then. “And to think you were worried.”

  I was in no rush to drink the highly valuable resource just yet. I still had some fangbloom stems left. So, corking it back up carefully, I lowered the vial into my bag.