Everyone had their weapons ready to go. Mareen also had her magic flashlight she'd gotten from the Adventuring Guild strapped to her leg. They were as prepared as they'd ever be. Henry approved; it was time to get down to business.
He turned to face them all and donned the mantle of authority. "Okay, everyone, now's the time to talk about the op one last time. While those flames are still burning, we probably won't be attacked, but keep your eyes peeled anyway.
"You all know your roles. Mareen, you are point with me, but stay behind me. Your job is to protect everyone else and throw the big bombs for Tony. Jason, you are my tactical strike man. You can stay in the rear until I need you. Don't go charging in, or we might have a friendly fire situation. Tony, you are the triggerman. Don't set anything off unless you're absolutely sure about the orders given.
"Uluula, you're next. Your job is to spot things I miss. You're second in command for this operation in case I am busy or out. Bezzi-ibbi, you have the rear. Keep your eyes peeled.
"Keeja, as usual, will do whatever the hell she wants to do. I have no idea if she's even going in there with us."
"Haven't decided yet." Keeja was floating about twenty feet off the ground, pretending she was lying on her back. Most of the group was ignoring her. Henry very carefully did not look at her body. He found Keeja attractive, kind of like someone might enjoy watching an exploding volcano, but he didn't want her to get any ideas.
She'd just pester him more. He shuddered.
"Okay, everyone, let's get ready. Mareen, help Tony place a couple claymores back here that cover the opening of the cave. Jason, move the Battlewagon back so I have a clear shot from the turret. Keep in mind that no battle plan survives execution. Let's get to it!"
The Battlewagon and the rest of Delvers, LLC situated themselves about one hundred fifty yards back from the cave. Their formation moved to the side so Henry could have clear shots at the door. Eventually, even Keeja eventually shrugged and soundlessly moved to hover above their formation. Henry rolled his eyes. She was probably just trying to get a better view.
By the time the flames died down, everyone was set. They were using Uluula's plan. She'd made a great case for minimizing their use of resources and casualties with this strategy. They would draw the enemy out and cut them down before even entering the dungeon.
At first, Henry had felt a little bad for how thoroughly Delvers, LLC was going to fuck up the entrance to the dungeon. Then he'd seen the fire trap. The torch with the pitch was as sneaky as it was lethal and would have been very nasty. A less-frosty adventuring company probably would have already been wiped out. After that, he didn't feel nearly as bad.
Henry got into his turret and carefully aimed his cannons at the doorway. He had a feeling something was on the other side and they were about to have a bad day--a really, really bad day.
* * *
Smartstrong Gulzug mar'Tartooth, the battle group leader of the Dark Cave Holy Site, asked his lead warrior, "What do you see?"
The male warrior he was speaking to, Leaderlisten, was in front of the massive door, their first defense for the Dark Cave Holy Site. The warrior was peering through a tiny hole bored through the door. "I still cannot see anything. There is too much smoke."
Smartstrong grunted and move back among his troops, checking gear, offering words of encouragement, and cuffing warriors for bravery. The creatures, the races on this world, called his kind "warthog-toothed, thick-hide man-demons". It was a stupid name, and Smartstrong didn't like being called a demon. He was one of the Plains People! Proud and true! It was true he had tusks, but they were very handsome and decorated with scrimshaw.
He also had thick skin... but the name was insulting!
When the Great God Dolos had appeared in the Plains People village on Gaglgth and explained he was an emissary of Tartooth, Smartstrong was honored to be chosen as the leader of the defense group. He'd thought it was strange that Dolos didn't allow them to take any females, but Dolos said the mission shouldn't take too long. He'd also muttered something about breeding and rabbits that Smartstrong didn't understand.
It was also strange that Dolos had instructed them not to bring anything other than traditional melee weapons and basic supplies.
Great God Dolos told them that the locked room at the bottom of the holy site had treasures of Tartooth they needed to defend. Smartstrong was dedicated to defending anything of Tartooth's, and his warriors were equally serious. They would kill anyone and anything that tried to enter the Dark Cave Holy Site!
Smartstrong knew he could be clever. When all the People's iron weapons and gear had rotted in the Dark Cave Holy Site, he'd ordered his warriors to kill nearby races with rocks and clubs, take their gear, and copy it. They were able to make stone and crude metal weapons. The best weapons taken from tool-using creatures were kept by the People's leaders, like Smartstrong.
He'd also come up with the torch trap outside the Dark Cave Holy Site's door. It had already killed two groups of heretics, would-be robbers trying to break in. The trap kept his warriors safe. They had to protect the god Tartooth's holy site!
But Smartstrong wasn't a demon. He knew this fact, but some of the other warriors were worried about the name. To cleanse any taint, they'd captured a few local creatures, local races of this place, and sacrificed them to Tartooth.
It had made sense to do so, but Smartstrong didn't think it was totally necessary. He didn't let them keep the captives alive too long or let any warriors eat captives alive either. That old practice was too barbaric. Enemies didn't have to be alive to be eaten, and they tasted better after being cooked too.
Smartstrong kept moving among his men, offering encouragement and checking readiness. Suddenly, the massive door exploded; thick splinters of wood and solid chunks of gold whizzed through the air, shredding his warriors.
The violence of the door bursting inward and flying apart made the world turn upside down for a moment. Smartstrong was at the rear of his troops, so he escaped unscathed. It took him a moment to realize what was going on, and when his mind started working again, he felt like he'd hit his head on something. His ears were ringing.
Smartstrong had no idea how the attack had happened. The door was half a hand thick and bound with copper. The way it had exploded reeked of magic, though. He snarled, Mages. Great God Dolos had told him about the people-creature mages. They were the most evil of the heretics!
That was fine--he had his own mages. Their piety to Tartooth kept them pure; their desire to kill enemies of Tartooth made them strong.
"Attack!" he bellowed. "And get the Herghh-damned mages up here!"
The robbers they were facing this time were far more cunning, more powerful, than before. However, the Plains People would protect the god Tartooth's treasures or die trying!
* * *
Henry nodded in satisfaction. The grapeshot round had nailed the door dead center, ripping it apart and scattering pieces everywhere. He hadn't used much magic for the shot, electing to hit the door at low velocity for maximum projectile spread. A high velocity shot might have just punched a neat hole instead of taking out the whole doorway.
Through the opening, despite the residual smoke, he could see some movement. He waited about thirty seconds, long enough for someone or something to get up and think about charging out the door again.
He paused for a moment before releasing another surge of magic power, firing the second barrel. This round contained twice the grapeshot as the first one. The projectile itself was a big cup made of petals that would open once it exited the barrel, spreading the golden balls held within. Despite its doubled mass, Henry used enough power to quadruple the velocity.
Despite their increased density and hardness, some of the gold balls actually began to melt and deform in the air. The whip-crack of the sonic boom made the cave rumble. Henry immediately began reloading both barrels of his cannons and shook his head. "Someone is definitely having a bad day now," he mumbled to himself.
/> * * *
Smartstrong stared in horror and felt his skin crawl. He was in a side hallway and had just witnessed the remaining warriors in the entry perishing in the time it took to blink. Their thick hide armor and tough skin had offered no protection at all. The dead warriors were torn apart and perforated with multiple holes blasted through them. Some of them even had burn marks with what looked like molten gold splattered on their armor! This had to be the work of an enemy god!
Smartstrong lifted his bronze sword high and bellowed, "Everyone attack! Do not fear their hell-cursed weapons again! For Tartooth!"
Around him, the remaining Plains People ran past, screaming. He felt his heart lift in pride. These were fine warriors. They would surely triumph and sell their lives dearly. They would kill many other enemy warriors or even bloody the side of an enemy god!
Smartstrong's eyes widened in battle fever, and he sprinted after his warriors. They would taste blood this day!
* * *
Henry almost had both barrels loaded again when the first enemy warriors came screaming out of the broken entryway. Yup, definitely look like orks to me. He refused to call them thick-skinned, tusked humanoid demons or whatever. He'd have bet all the money he had they didn't call themselves that.
Nearby, he heard Uluula hiss. On the way to the dungeon, he'd picked up that UIuula had some sort of history with orks. This was one reason he was placing her further back in the formation when they actually entered Yanbei Cavern. He needed Uluula thinking clearly.
Henry let his mind slide into the cold place he went during combat. He was waiting for more orks to run out of the dungeon before triggering his first reloaded barrel. The shot wasn't as effective now that the orks weren't all huddled together inside of a door, but he still blasted at least five from the face of Ludus.
"Aren't there more of these things than we were expecting?" he yelled back at Jason.
"A lot more."
"Do you think it was...?"
"Probably," Jason's voice was grim.
Dolos. Henry felt a tendril of anger leak past his icy calm and ruthlessly suppressed it. Right now, things were trying to kill him, ten times more things than they'd expected, in fact. He'd work on surviving first and worry about the implications later.
If Delvers had been a normal adventuring company, they would have already been torn to shreds. The past number of demons in this dungeon would have given most strong adventuring companies a difficult, drawn-out struggle. Instead, Henry guessed there were still two hundred orks pouring out of the dungeon.
Henry aimed his second barrel at an ork in a robe making weird gestures. Probably a mage. He triggered the cannon with a surge of power and tore the robed ork to bloody chunks, as well as a few warriors behind it too. Nice shot, he congratulated himself.
However, he noticed the air distort further back in the cave and could barely make out another robed ork with his arms spread. This ork had white designs painted on his pebbly greenish-brown skin. The painted ork blocked a projectile with a force field of some kind and was even moving the smoke around, using it as concealment. Definitely a mage, Henry thought.
The main force of the bloodthirsty orks was getting closer. Henry hollered, "Tony, trigger claymore one!"
"Claymore one!" Aodh yelled back.
Suddenly, the nearest claymore exploded. The weapon looked like a shallow C about two feet tall, made from bronze. The rear of the thick device was a tall, thin gunpowder bomb backed by a thick wall of bronze. The front of the weapon was a thin wall of tin over gold balls and coin-shaped bronze disks all packed tightly, waiting to be violently accelerated by the force of the explosives.
It was placed about five yards outside the cave and angled towards the opening so the hot shrapnel hurled forward from the claymore's detonation completely shredded the first rank of orks. They went down in a bloody, torn mess of mangled bodies. The orks in the rear had to keep moving forward due to momentum and trod over the bodies of their fallen comrades.
After the lull from the claymore detonating, the ork mage from deep within the cave gusted out, moving faster than should have been possible, his feet not even touching the ground. Another ork mage burst out the other side of the cave, his hands glowing and trailing white-hot flame.
The ork fire mage brought his hands together, and an enormous fireball screamed over the battlefield at Henry. Well, shit. I guess turnabout is fair play. Henry knew he wouldn't have time to jump out of the turret to dodge. Converting his skin to armor wouldn't help much against heat either.
He did the only thing he could think of--he dropped down into his turret and covered his head, hoping for the best.
Blades of Air
Jason watched the entire battle play out with his perception of time slowed down. There wasn't much for him to do while Henry and Aodh were demolishing the stream of orks, so he just kept careful watch in case he might be needed.
That moment came when the ork mage launched a fireball at Henry. Jason teleported into the path of the fiery energy and created the largest null-time shield he could manage. The fireball stopped, completely blocked, but some heat still leaked around the edges of the shield. It wasn't very comfortable, but Jason could endure it, which was good since he couldn't move too far away. He still needed to be close to a null-time shield in order to create or maintain it.
After a couple seconds, the fireball dissipated, and Jason teleported upwards. He called down, "Henry, I stopped the fireball! Get your ass up and start shooting again! I'm gonna try taking out the mages!"
Henry's head popped up, and he nodded, immediately laying down fire with his rifle. As soon as his momentum in the air stopped, Jason teleported behind the ork fire mage and swept Breeze in a simple but effective Zornhau followed up with a quick, rising strike. The ork mage didn't know what had hit him. Even without a null-time blade, Jason's cuts were powerful and precise. The hapless ork crumpled to the ground.
With a longsword in his hands, Jason felt much more confident. It probably wasn't the best weapon for his magic style, but he'd studied the longsword for over four years and Breeze fit him like a glove. The results showed.
He teleported near an ork preparing to throw an atlatl dart, but he stumbled, his foot landing in a hole. His stab to the ork's back went wide. Quick as a snake, the ork pulled a dagger and attacked, lunging powerfully. Jason responded by flashing an elegant Krumphau, his response taking the ork's arm off at the wrist and his return strike biting deep beneath the ork's ribs. As the ork stumbled back in shock, Jason danced away, teleporting again. He killed several more orks on his way to the remaining mage, trusting Henry to carefully aim shots and adjust his fire. He and Henry had a system. While Henry was shooting, Jason wouldn't teleport long distances or change directions too fast.
This way, as long as Henry was paying close attention, he wouldn't shoot his friend. The system was working so far, but it probably wouldn't have been viable if the two hadn't known each other for so long and practiced fencing together.
After making a few short, deadly hops, Jason was near the last mage and realized the robed ork was riding on masses of thick, swirling air. The currents kicked up the hem of the ork's dark robes, the garment decorated with ornate white needlework. The robes were large and baggy, hiding his appearance and what he might have been carrying, but Jason could catch flashes of his skin.
Like the rest of the orks, the mage had light blue skin that was mottle brown. The orks' hair, or what they had in place of hair, was thick and dark. Jason thought they looked like lizard people crossed with Neanderthals with blue skin and brown vitiligo.
The mage's nails were thick and dark, his hands large and powerful. Jason was sure that under the mage's hood, his face was probably similar to those of the rest of the orks with small dark eyes; a wide, lipless mouth; slitted nostrils; and small mounds in place of ears.
Jason caught a glimpse of the mage's jewel-studded tusks. Fancy. He tried sneaking up on the mage, but his target kept movin
g around, probably trying to decide what to do about the Battlewagon in the distance. When Jason was less than ten feet behind him, the wary ork drew a sword.
Jason ran forward, but the ork mage scooted to the side on cushions of air and used magic to throw something. Jason teleported straight up and threw a couple knives, teleporting them behind the ork, but the wily mage kicked up a rotating shield of air that slapped the blades aside.
This guy is good. In freefall, before he teleported again, Jason realized that the ork was throwing wide, thin blades of air. Jason had to keep teleporting to avoid them. He couldn't block magic attacks with his sword, and while he was fast enough to block with null-time shields, using that ability took a lot out of him. It was actually faster and conserved his magic more just to teleport.
Jason tried throwing a few more knives, but every time the ork lost sight of him or saw Jason throw anything, he brought up the air shield again.
Jason found his way to the ground, and the ork narrowed his eyes as they regarded each other. They were both some distance from the bulk of the fighting now, and Jason was panting from exertion. This was Jason's first real duel to the death with magic on Ludus. He really wished the enemy mage would stop throwing things at him so he could focus enough for a null-time blade.
Jason felt his mind slipping into the red place, his killing world, and he let it happen. His eyes and jaw hardened; his teeth clenched. He moved his sword back in a tail guard stance.
This mage was possibly even more dangerous than Thod had been. Since the ork had no Dolos orb, Jason had no idea what level of power he was at, but the air mage hadn't seemed too threatened by Jason so far.
Jason's resolve hardened as he realized how important this duel was. If he lost, the ork mage could probably tear through the rest of the Delvers. His air shield could stop Henry's projectiles, and he could just throw blades of air from a distance until they were all cut to ribbons.
Jason settled his sights on his enemy. He trusted Henry to cover his back. It was time to kill.
Delvers LLC: Welcome to Ludus Page 36