"You think there could've been another of those ogres?" said one warrior to another.
"Don't be daft. We would've heard something from it by now, after cutting its friend's head off," said the warrior riding next to him.
They were at the back of Benevic's mind though. He was part of a machine of death, directed at the evil that had taken his daughter from him. They came to the entrance, torches in their hands instead of lanterns. Roaring flame was a tool for more than just lighting the way. It offered offensive and defensive advantages. But the veteran warrior did not carry one himself. He held his holy sword and shield.
"Ready yourselves for carnage, men. And a curse upon any of you who don't join the bloodshed with your whole hearts ablaze!" That was a favorite war cry that he had not been gifted the opportunity to use for far too long. "I feel alive again! Men, are you with me?"
They roared behind him, readying their own shields and arms. The torches blazed and lit up the cave entrance as they neared. It was a still night, dim blue in the sky and the moon glowing brightly, not quite full in the sky but nearly at that point.
"Remember, no one is to harm my daughter, Gaynor, or allow harm to come to her. Whatever you see in this dungeon, do not forget that."
"You heard the boss," confirmed the warrior in front of Benevic. He was holding up a torch in on hand, and a halberd in the other. Before him were two warriors with shields who protected the front of the line. The cave entrance was so narrow they had to move in twos, but they were able to huddle close enough together to form a type of wall with their mail and plate armor, with shields and sharp tips protruding out.
Benevic's sword began to glow holy white. "Ready yourselves for dark magic," he warned.
It surprised the whole party when a short way into the cave they came into a lush room of vines climbing high upon rocky walls, with a still pool of clear water in the center.
"What is this place?" asked one of the warriors. The others had similar comments, and they all seemed to take in a deep breath as they congregated inside the large chamber. There was enough space for them to file in around the pool.
"Shall we go through then?" asked one of the warriors who'd been taking the front. He and his partner in rank were still farther into the room than any other, as they had been charged with holding up the front of the party with their shields and weapons at the ready. The several torches held by various members throughout the group lit up the area, but it seemed like they were not the only things creating illumination.
"That is strange, indeed," remarked Benevic. "There is some kind of light coming from a source other than our torches’ flames. Look." He pointed at the water, and it did indeed seem like there was a blueish glow coming from the surface, but it was in the air as well, all around.
"The vines are glowing green," said another. "This is amazing."
His mind went back to all the moments when he had felt his happiest, when he had been at peace within his own mind. Worry was not something that a professional sword for hire could allow to take over their lives. This room was a real-world incarnation of the balance and peace of mind Benevic had spent so much time trying to force onto himself.
"I don't like this," said one of the men up front. "We shouldn't be here. It's not beautiful at all."
"Be still," said Benevic. He felt too at ease to allow someone else's weak mind to ruin it.
"The vines, are they moving? What's happening? Let's go forward, men," said a man up front.
"Or back!" called out one of the others, who was closer to the rear of the group, where the darkness behind him seemed to be moving closer and clearly making him afraid for what might be out in the darkness at the entrance to the dungeon.
"They are!" shouted a warrior. "Look out for the vines!"
"What now?" answered Benevic with rage. "Why can't you just—dear gods," he said, cutting off his own admonition. Something was wrapping around his ankle. He had not been able to feel it through his greaves, mail, and padding.
"Move forward!" he shouted, hacking at the vine with his sword. Beside him, one of the men was being lifted off the ground, several thick vines at once tightening like snares of an intricate trap. The man screamed like an animal of prey as they tightened around him and hoisted him into the air, then splashed him down in the water.
"Help me!" he shouted with the desperation of the dying.
"Can you not swim?" replied another warrior who was prying a vine from his sword arm using the edge of his shield.
"In mail armor?!" the man called back, but he was holding onto the rocks around the edges of the rock to keep from going under.
The others were dealing with their own troubles. The walls seemed to come to life entirely, and all that was green shifted, cascading down upon them like a den of crawling adders, coiling around the men by limb and grabbing at their weapons.
"Hack them to pieces!" Benevic's sword did not stop moving for a moment. He slashed at the vines and found they were easy enough to destroy, but more continued to form. Even when a length was severed from its base coming from the wall, it would continue to move around with purpose, reaching out to trip one of the adventurers or tangle them up.
That's when the struggling warrior in the water began to scream bloody murder. "Help me! They're gonna eat me alive! I can feel them getting in my armor!"
"What are you talking about?" said Benevic. He'd gotten himself free and was stepping wildly to avoid being tangled up by any of the vines again. "Hey! What is it, man?"
The poor soul in the water only kept screaming, before gurgling as he sank beneath the surface. There were hundreds, if not thousands, of small fish darting around in a whirling frenzy of death. And the rest of the men largely noticed the gruesome death awaiting anyone else who fell there.
"Get away from the pool!" yelled Benevic, rallying his men with sword at the ready. He went to each of them to hack away at the vines.
"No!" That was another of his warrior falling, being dragged in by cursed living vines, into the pool of mindless eating machines. His screams took over from the first, who had already disappeared from the surface of the water.
And another was dragged, and yet another. They vied for positions within reach of the rocky holding areas at the edge, to avoid going under with the weight of their armor and gear. Forceful jostling became outright violence, and one gouged his thumb into the eye of another to win a safe place to hold himself above the water.
In turn, they all won the attention of the swarming fish and began to scream. Some had already begun to drown in the depths before that happened, and their cries were muffled as bubbles rose. They might have been luckier to be halfway dead before the vicious fish got into their armor.
By the time Benevic got his men through that room, they were low on morale. "How many did we lose in there?" he asked.
"What? I, I figure it was at least half a dozen. Did you see that?" one of the warriors asked. "Those little fish, how could they tear a man up like that, eating him alive! This place is as evil as they said, sir."
"Yes, it is. That is exactly why we've come to destroy the source of that evil. Now, let me ask, are you still with me?"
"Yes, sir, of course."
"And the rest of you? Are you still with me?" He held with holy sword aloft and it glowed in the dark tunnel they had come into. There were still two torches left burning in the group. None would have dared to go back and retrieve more from the vine room.
They cheered affirmation, being used to losses and death. The dark magic was something more mysterious to the majority of them, but it was not an unknown element of the world. Adventurers hoped to avoid such things, but they were always expecting it to find them one day. In this case, they had been the ones to stumble upon it.
"Well then, onward to the death of evil in this dungeon! And glory!" The next room was glowing red from some kind of magical flames. It gave the impression of blood, death, of battle. "Stay in a wide formation and look to the shadows," he said.
The red glow was not very bright, and it was hard to see to the end of the large area.
Something moved around at the other end, and figures approached them. "These must be the cultist bastards we've come to slaughter!" Benevic spoke loudly with pride so that all in the red room would hear him.
When they moved closer to the waiting adventurers, there was an odd scraping sound. It was like they were dragging something hard along the stone floor beneath.
"What unholy things are these?" asked the warrior beside Benevic.
"The undead," he replied. "Reanimated corpses. These are skeletons; not particularly sturdy fighters. And they are only wielding rocks. Have at them!"
The warriors moved forward in formation, careful this time to avoid being taken by surprise. They rushed the walking piles of bones and Benevic decapitated the nearest to him. It didn't stop moving though and smashed at the man's shield with an elongated rock that acted as a primitive club.
As spear and sword tips were thrust into the skeletons, they did little damage. There were no axes or maces among them, as those were weapons more suited to combat in larger spaces, such as on the battlefield.
"Use your shields and sword pommels!" ordered Benevic. "Take them apart so they stop coming."
While the skeletons were unable to break through the defenses of the well-armed warriors, the latter was not slowing the undead bone warriors down. When one of the skeletons fell, it simply kept on moving. They even reassembled themselves if their broken away parts were not knocked far enough away.
Something was stomping around farther back in the shadows of the room. It sounded familiar.
"What is that?" asked a warrior.
"Sounds like something big!" said another. "Could be another ogre?"
Benevic's sword began to pulse with white light now, detecting a greater mass of evil than mere fish, vines, and skeletons. "It's not another ogre. It's the same one!" he told the arguing men. "Stay strong and prepare for a real fight!"
A gigantic body hulked forward. Only it was headless—the ogre showed itself in the red glow of the room and swung its arms wildly from left to right. It had lost much of its cunning that it had possessed when it was alive, but the brute strength was there just as strong as ever. It ran into the line of men, knocking aside the skeletons that got in its way.
"Take it apart! That's the only way to stop it!" Benevic ordered. He had dealt with zombies before and had seen them taken down with dismemberment.
"We gotta get out of here!" yelled a man from behind the group. He was running away from the terror of their opponents. "Run!"
"He's right!" added another, dropping his weapons and turning. As he went, the ogre caught him by the top of the head and lifted him away from the group with one gigantic hand. It popped his head clean from his body and swung the corpse around so that blood sprayed over the warriors in the front rank.
This only crushed the last remnants of morale from many of the other men, and they too turned and ran. They were luckier with their attempts to flee, though, and managed to get away. That only left ten men.
"Cowards!" yelled Benevic. "I will have you hanged for this!" He knew he didn't have the power to make that a reality, but the image of those deserters swinging from ropes as their life force drained from them, worked to feed his fury. He swung his glowing holy sword at the headless ogre zombie, holding his shield up to protect himself from the nearby skeletons. He rushed forward away from the rank of men and slammed into the ogre, actually knocking it slightly back. It was slow in its death, and Benevic was able to hack away at its leg, taking it nearly to the bone.
The ogre hobbled and then fell to the floor as Benevic rushed backward to rejoin his men. It was slow to recover and had trouble trying getting back up.
"Take it apart, men!" Frontline, with me. The rest, skeletons.
The handful of men in the front rank rushed by the skeletons, easily deflecting their passing blows. They fell upon the prone ogre zombie and took the leg off completely, then an arm, and so on. It was a heap of quivering—very much still moving— parts by the time they were done.
The skeletons continued to come, but now in two groups, the warriors smashed them apart and scattered their bones over the red room. All who were left standing were shocked and breathing heavily, but not hurt from their battle with the undead.
The next chamber contained two statues of stone. They looked like men with much less detail in their features, and they were as large as the largest of men.
"Careful. This looks like an ideal trap room." Benevic walked closer to them, and his sword was not glowing white at all. "I don't detect any dark magic here, but be on the lookout for mechanical traps."
"Look! They move," said one of the shaking warriors.
Each of the two stone men began to move and speak. They spoke in an eerie unison, "Stop, mortals. We are the sacred guardians of what remains buried here. To cross beyond our threshold is to defile a holy relic's sacred resting grounds, and to go against the design of the righteous men who placed it here. Be warned."
"Holy?" repeated Benevic, glancing down at his sword to confirm that it was not dark magic animated these men of stone. "Why would holy magic be used to create the abomination we have thus encountered within this dungeon? I did tell you to look out for a trap, but I didn't expect something so cunning and blasphemous."
"More blasphemous than the living dead?" asked one of the few remaining warriors with incredulity.
"To fake holy magic, yes, it is the exact type of thing one would expect from a cult of the damned."
"I'm not fighting them," said another. "I'll kill evil, but only when I know what evil is."
"I do not believe this. It’s a farce!" Benevic shouted. When he wasn't met with any response, apart from awkward shuffling and a severe lack of eye contact from any of them, he decided to test just how holy these golems were. He slowly edged closer to the two stone men, ready in case they attacked. As he came near them, his weapon began to glow brightly. “Look! This sword only glows in the presence of dark magic.”
“He’s right!” confirmed one of the men. “Look!”
The stone men began to glow too, with the same sinister, green magical aura that had come from that bewitching room of vines and water, but it was a sinister shade of green. They rushed forward and fell upon the adventurers. Benevic darted backward and almost collided into the waiting shields of his men. Just as one of the golems was about to strike him in the face with a gigantic fist of stone, he swung the holy sword at it. The lifeless creation shattered the instant the sword touched it.
“Yes!” shouted Benevic. “By the power of my holy sword, yes!” He swung the sword around at the other golem and dispatched of that one too. The stone man crumbled into a pile of rubble and moved no more. Realizing how near he had come to being pulverized, Benevic took a moment to recover his breath.
"Holy shit!" shouted one of the warriors.
"No, unholy," replied Benevic. He'd never had much of a sense of humor, just as the ferryman had implied when they'd been crossing the river to the hills. That didn't bother him because he knew he was unmatched as an adventurer. "Come on, then. Let's get a look at this so-called 'holy relic' our guardians were protecting."
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They went down a simple, narrow stairway made of rough stone. "I feel as though we are nearing the heart of evil. I believe we will find these robed devils, the ones who took my daughter. Are you ready for some well-justified bloodshed?" Benevic asked his men, both to distract them from their own fears, and to encourage them to keep fighting to the last.
They sounded enthusiastic now, after having seen their leader in such a show of glory. As they came to the bottom of the stairs, the air closed in around them, and large balls of rock came from the very walls, almost like enormous versions of the fists of the golems. All of the remaining warriors were crushed as though they'd been wooden toy soldiers possessed by an aggressive child throwing a tantrum.
"No!" shoute
d Benevic from the bottom of the stairs. He put his shield up and waited for the same fate, but it never came.
"Put your weapons away, father," said Gaynor.
"Daughter?" He turned and saw her standing alone beside a strange altar with a detailed skull carved upon it. Above that was a floating skull, not of bone but some precious substance. It glowed with the green light he had seen in the dungeon already. That had to be the dark magic of whatever lay here. "What is this? Tell me, what have they done to you?"
“Stand aside from this cursed altar. I will destroy it with holy magic!" He readied to bring the sword down and split the floating skull in half.
Remain where you are, came a voice inside of Benevic's own mind. Foolish adventurer. Do you really think you were able to access my inner sanctum through your own fruition? I could have crushed you even as you descended those stairs.
"Let me speak to him, Mertho," said Gaynor to—the floating skull.
"Mertho? That evil wizard was the cause of all this, the pain, the regret. He took you from me, daughter! Stand aside, and I will destroy whatever this thing is he has become."
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Mertho could have smashed Benevic to pieces with fists of stone. He could have opened up the floor and let the confused old adventurer fall to his death in a pit of searing lava. The chamber was a death sentence waiting for anyone foolish enough to enter without permission. But none of those things were dexterous enough to stop Benevic without also killing, or at least seriously maiming, Gaynor in the process.
Yet, Benevic walked forward, menacing the dungeon core with a glowing whitesword of holy magic. "I will destroy this evil," the veteran warrior said with eyes raging with fury. "You took everything from me, wizard..." He moved so close that he would be able to follow through on his threat in seconds, but his feet only shuffled. The man's body trembled, and the sword above his head was unsteady. He was perhaps hesitating, or so pumped with nerves that he could scarcely believe what was happening.
The Wizard (Dungeon Core Book 1) Page 19