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Excerpts, Part 1

Excerpt from Notable Dungeon Histories, 4th Ed., generously donated to the Nameless Dungeon from Vaulder’s Library

Historian’s note: There are, unfortunately, no first-hand accounts of the raid on the Tomb of Acyeatrix, the dungeon notorious for sinking ships off the Blackpillar Cliffs. Second-hand accounts have been cross-referenced, and we visited the site of the ruins to confirm some of the more unlikely details. What follows is not strictly true, but largely accurate, and until the Coruscant Band deigns to break its silence, the best informed account we have.

Local fisherman first became aware of a dungeon growing near their village when strange fish appeared along the coast, dragging smaller prey through the waters and into newly formed caves along the basalt cliffs. They sent a message to the Adventurer’s Guild, but it was intercepted by the dungeon, which was already quite powerful and had been monitoring the village for some time. When a fisherman’s child was abducted from his boat by fish, the village this time sent out an entire expedition to deliver the message, armed to the teeth. Of the ten men to leave the village, one survived, telling the Guild of horrid beasts lurking below the waters, dragging away the bounty of the sea into the basalt maw. Then he told of a massive creature made of spiked shells and slime that had ambushed them, and how it had reached out with spined tendrils and consumed his fellow villagers.

The Adventurer’s Guild quickly assigned an experienced party, thinking they would be more than a match for this small, previously unheard of dungeon-core. It was a reasonable assumption: The dungeon was unheard of, but near a populous region with heavy ship traffic, so it must be new. However, they were mistaken. The dungeon was, by later estimates, years old, and with its unfettered access to large sea creatures, it had grown powerful entirely in secret.

The death of the first expedition (two warriors, a wizard, a rogue, a priest, and an ogre, class unknown) occurred at the same time the ship Empress’s Mercy went missing. At the time, the events were considered unrelated. However, the Azerule Merchant Syndicate quickly saw four loaded trade ships disappear in a week. The dungeon had clearly realized, with the first expedition, that it had been exposed, and no longer attempted any form of subterfuge. It sought to loot and plunder whatever life and resources it could.

Ships off the Azerule Coast started traveling in convoys. The first convoy went missing without a trace. The second convoy had three ships escape, including the warship Soldier’s Fortune. The frigate had escaped with two gaping holes in the hull, prevented from sinking only because by chance a famed woodshaper had been traveling as a passenger on one of the merchant ships. The mainmast was wrecked, and the sails torn. As they limped into port, the two merchant ships only in slightly better shape, the crew told tails of a harrowing beast: A two-tailed serpent of obsidian and bone that had attacked them. As it did, megalodons with teeth of rock and colossal squid with iron-spiked tendrils had beset the ships as well.

It is fortunate they escaped. The battle at sea was a clear sign of the power the dungeon had accumulated, and the tale spread wide through the lands. Additionally, the convoy had carried goods from cities ranging from Caltern to Ankhara. Each was impacted by the loss, and angered by the deaths of their own innocent people. The Empress too, felt the loss, for one of her ships had been carrying a phoenix-feathered cape, the crimson feathers blazing with divine fire and favor. It was this confluence of tragedy that let so many people see past their differences, and unite against a common foe. Many malevolent dungeons are allowed to thrive because the efforts to subdue them are haphazard and poorly coordinated. Had that been the case here, the consequences would have been unthinkable.

Instead, representatives from seven cities met with the Adventurer’s Guild and the Empress. Together, they developed a plan.

The Azerule Merchants sent another convoy, this time with three warships to ten merchant vessels. The fleet took a detour around the dungeon’s coast, seeking to avoid it. It was a tempting prize, and still far too vulnerable. The dungeon sent its serpent.

It was, of course, a trap.

As soon as the serpent attacked the rear vessel, the merchant ships broke formation. Woodshapers peeled down parts of their seamless hulls, revealing rows of magefire cannons and stonebreaker ballistae. While wizards on the Glory of Adventure kept the beast from diving with spellwork already prepared in the holds of the ship, the disguised warships unleashed a volley on the beasts, both the serpent and the swarming minions. The serpent thrashed, stone body writhing into a ship, causing the hull to crumple inward. But these were the experienced crews, hired at great cost from a dozen treasuries, and damage that would have been catastrophic to an unprepared ship was repaired even as the serpent’s tail sought to smash it apart. Pierced by dozens of dark-iron ballista bolts, its flesh smashed asunder, the serpent—a guardian of the dungeon, died. Its minions were culled too, the mana dispersing into the ocean, unrecoverable. Many of the beasts had shards, and in a moment, the great cost of the expedition was refunded twice over.

As the dungeon was distracted by the battle, a scouting force, led by the Shadow-Attuned thief Jalmin infiltrated the basalt, saltwater caverns in the cliffside. Though it had known to block divination, the dungeon was still untested, and was at first unaware of the magically hidden group full of thieves and sorcerers. They were able to fully map the first floor.

The coast was made of basalt pillars, and the trace amounts of dark iron present in the rocks made magical mapping and penetration impossible. The cavern entrance was on the coast, and within the first floor went deep into the rock, though it was left open to the ocean. This meant that the movement of the waves and tides created a deathtrap. Slick algae coated the rocks, and the dungeon had hollowed out small tidepools full of steel-spine urchins and razor barnacles that shot out acid as a defense mechanism. Oysters, open with brilliant prismatic pearls, tempted them, but they were too disciplined to be caught by such an obvious trap. The base of the cavern, shrouded by the foam and turmoil of the waves, had a seaweed that sought to entrap and pull down anyone trying to swim through the entrance. With the waterway and sides both nearly impossible to navigate, Jalmin chose one of his classic strategies for entrance: They took the ceiling.

With a series of invisible ropes and magically anchored clips, the scouting team made it through the entrance. There, they found that the rock in the cavern was not just basalt. The plutonic rock covered an old layer of fossil-laden limestone. The dungeon had been busy with it. Even as they watched, Jalmin saw the dungeon carving fossils from the stone and beginning to shape the old bones into monstrosities. They watched as a beast of calcite scales and a gaping jaw formed and began to swim about the pool of the cavern. Other creatures crept about. The strangest was something like a mantis shrimp, with a brilliant shell resembling fine-polished steel and glimmering sapphire. It was the size of a bull, with huge claws. They watched as it smashed its claw into a part of the cavern, causing the walls to crack and splinter, which the dungeon then burrowed into with its mana.

Then the beast turned an eyestalk around.

Jalmin was the first to realize they had been spotted. The strange eye glanced up at them and lingered a bit too long. He knew of colors that only animals could see. Their invisibility spell was not perfect.

As he signaled the team to make back for the entrance, the tide was receding. Below, in the churning waters, Jalmin made out an the entrance of a tight underwater passage, just small enough that an unarmored man might squeeze through. It was lined with the razor barnacles, the strangling seaweed, and the ocean would yank and push at anyone trying it, all while they held their breath.

Jalmin was the last to leave. As he did, he saw a sight few have witnessed: The dungeon was reconstructing its guardian. Bit by bit, mana coalesced into stone and flesh.

They escaped just as the sea-beasts arrived, pulled back from their battle off the coast. Two colossal squid tried to block their escape, but the thieves were too agile. They fled, and made their report. The first victory against what would be known as the Tomb of Acyeatrix was complete.

Again, if the fast ships of the Azerule Syndicate had not spread the news of the dungeon fast and far, it is troubling to think what would have happened. That the news traveled quickly meant that instead of greedy (but ultimately perishable) adventures mobbing the dungeon looking for easy treasure and glory, an elite team would assault the dungeon before it could prepare. The dungeon, unbeknownst to all, had burrowed four levels deep, and had somehow gotten its hands on the true soul of Acyeatrix, the legendary necromancer.

But there was to be no long siege. The Coruscant Band arrived within the week, as the dungeon was still recovering its most potent minions. Jalmin joined them as an honorary member. The arc-sorcerer Elmara, the Paladin of the Mask, Uthaem, Supreme Priestess of the Eastern Reaches, and Tath Torkin, Grand Alchemist, arranged their infiltration.

Warships surrounded the dungeon entrance, and smashed open the entrance. The cavern was nearly a straight line, so their spellwork and magefire cannons caught the giant seabeasts of the first level in a trap of their own making. The guardian was slain again, and the Coruscant Band simply walked in, ignoring the traps the dungeon had installed on the ceiling. They burned through the grasping seaweed and reached the entrance to the second level within minutes.

Here, the dungeon had perhaps anticipated that the incense priests used to keep the dungeon’s powers at bay would need to be extinguished for the party to dive into the waters that linked the second level. It hadn’t counted on Tath Torkin’s alchemy. He had worked with Uthaem to create substances that would burn under water. Elmara fortified them with a spell of water breathing, and the Paladin of the Mask smashed through the cavern, hammer flashing with bright starfire as it sundered stone and creature.

The entire second level was an underwater maze. Here, the giant mantis shrimp hid in the cracks of stone, leaping out to ambush them. Their claws could crack stone, but they glanced off the Paladin of the Mask’s white shield. Eels with stone teeth rushed out, while smaller Eels tried to destroy the party with lightning they stored in their bodies. Elmara’s spellwork defended them easily. The whole place was crowded with shadows, and Jalmin had been ahead of the party the entire time, staying out of sight of the mantis shrimp, warning them of every ambush, scouting every trap and dead-end. The special incense burned fiercely, bright bubbles bringing holy fire to this place of depth and cold.

The labyrinthine cavern ended with an underwater hydra, a beast of four heads. The creature was large enough it actually blocked the entrance to the third level of the dungeon, and each head protruded through narrow openings to different cave halls. Since the heads would quickly regenerate, the party would have to split off to destroy them all at once. And how could fire keep the heads destroyed if they were underwater? The maze was cunningly crafted so that each route was long, but the Coruscant Band worked quickly. The Paladin of the Mask smashed two thin walls that Jalmin had mapped, allowing them to skip parts of the winding maze. They confronted the hydra’s heads all at once, using Tath Torkin’s fierce fires to keep them from regenerating.

Here, we enter a bit of extreme speculation. The dungeon would have no motivation to clear the corpse of the hydra and allow the adventurers to pass, speeding along their assault. However, no corpse was discovered, only the severed heads. An unnamed source in Caltern’s Institute claims that Elmara used a secret spell to dissolve the hydra into mana for her own spells, thus explaining the sheer quantity of spellwork she was able to manage in such a short time frame. However, another source said such a claim was ‘absurd,’ and explains the missing corpse by the dungeon dissolving it after the Band had already burrowed through the bloated body with some sort of alchemy, or hacked away a hole through it. Alas, the historical debate is unlikely to ever be settled.

A vertically curved passage and clever hydrology let the passage lead to a dry cavern. The Coruscant Band emerged to the third level still unscathed. The thick limestone layer the dungeon had carved through tilted slightly, so as they proceeded through the gaping caverns of pillars and stalactites, it led them deeper into the earth.

By now, the dungeon knew of Jalmin, but as it sought to send forth its small army of cave-lurking beasts at the Band, it must have lost track of him. It must have been an awe-inspiring sight to behold: Tath Torkin, lobbing potions that dissolved the stone creatures, prismatic explosions lighting the dark, concoctions exploding in unnatural fire that glimmered off the dripping walls of white stone. Jalmin, sweeping through the shadows, rock-pick and unstoppable knife slashing through fossilized flesh, casting down beasts three times his size effortlessly. Elmara, hands blazing with light, unfathomably complex runes bursting into spells that brought the very armies of the dungeon to heel. Paladin of the Mask, their eyes blazing behind the seamless mask of silver, their armor gleaming bright, as their hammer cleft through rock, shattered bone, smashed the very Laws of the dungeon into dust. And, Uthaem, holding the incense aloft, murmuring prayers to the Pantheon of Seven, the very presence of the Gods palpable in the deep earth. Whatever guardian they slew on that level, they left no trace of, merely a crater that still smoldered with arcane embers and melted glass.

By the time they reached the Grand Gate of Orogatroph, the God of Bones and Deep Places, the dungeon must have known fear.

The Coruscant Band knew of Orogatroph, knew what his blessing on this place meant. They must have paused to fortify themselves with enchantments and potions before proceeding through that ominous gate. The carved serpent upon that gate watched them pass, as did the hundreds of human skulls upon its arch.

Due to the tilted layer and length of the third level, the fourth level was far deeper and larger than any normal dungeon. Dungeonographers speculate it may have been several layers merged together, though they also debate whether such a thing is possible. Either way, the air must have been thick with mana, toxic with it—only the blessings called down by Uthaem would have protected them.

And the dungeon knew it.

They emerged through the gate to find a vast cavern, the ceiling high enough that it was barely visible even in the Band’s blazing light. Before them was an underground sea, smelling of rime and decay. It appeared at first that brilliant glowing jewels floated through the dark waters, but they were giant angler fish, maws open, waiting to devour any that approached. Other beasts, nameless, for none have seen them before or since, no doubt taken from the deepest places of the ocean, swam about, alight with bioluminescence. Horrors of teeth and tentacle. Maws of venom and blades. Scales of steel, hides of stone. Thousands of creatures, each as deadly as the last. Despite their power, the Coruscant Band could not hope to fight them.

In the middle of that sea was an island, and on it, a simple mausoleum of granite. Upon the throne, the ancient spirit of Acyeatrix sat. His soul had possessed a construct of pure ancient fossil and bone, so that the permineralized bones glimmered with an icy blue light. The bones were the spines of ancient serpents, the teeth of long-dead beasts, plated heads with long horns, and colossal femurs, all bound into a shape that had only a passing resemblance to hunched over man. Even at such a distance, the Band knew that it watched them. They did not know how the soul of the long-dead necromancer had made its way here, but no doubt they had heard of him in the histories and learned of his horrid deeds and great power.

Tath Torkin lobbed a potion that exploded into blinding light, burning even as it sank through the brined water. There, through the dark but clear waters, they saw the fate of the last expedition of adventurers. And they saw the fate of so many merchants, fisherfolk, and waylaid travelers. The dungeon had been busy. But it was not done with them. The dungeon could not perform spellwork, but Acyeatrix could. He had laid the foundations of spells in the deep ocean, among the bones, and here, in the depth of this dungeon, he would have all the mana he needed. Elmara recognized the runes at once. It was to be a spell of mass reanimation. Years and years of scouring the ocean for shipwrecks, stealing away people bit by bit had added up. This dungeon had its designs set on an army—one that was nearly complete. They had been just in time.

Even now, the dungeon was busy forging the looted enchantments and gems from the merchant fleets into powerful shards. There could be no delay. There was no time to gather reinforcements. But they would need to traverse the mostly deadly waters in the realms, fighting beasts that could not be fought.

Fortunately, the Coruscant Band was prepared.

Uthaem had been quite passive compared to the others, only chanting her prayers and keeping the incense lit for most of the battles. The dungeon knew she was the most important target, but must have thought her the least deadly of them.

But she had kept a secret.

She possessed the Legendary Attunement of Water.

With that, Uthaem, Supreme Priestess of the Eastern Reaches was utter anathema to the dungeon. It had rocks and bones, of course, but all of it relied on water. Water that Uthaem could shape.

The Band is silent on how they did it, but one can imagine it. Perhaps she created a bridge of ice, glacial spikes warding away any of the sea’s great predators, or impaling them. Or perhaps she simply allowed them to walk on the water, and created pockets of boiling water on their flanks, flashing the icy depths into vapor when a threat approached. Perhaps she simply had the icy crystals grow inside the creatures, leaving alone their armor and simply freezing their vulnerable innards. The ocean that the dungeon had surrounded itself with became a weapon against it.

As they approached the island, Acyeatrix would have roared a challenge. His spellwork would have met Elmara’s, and as Uthaem kept the ocean at bay, Tath Torkin and Paladin of the Mask would have charged forward, while Jalmin darted from shadow to shadow, keeping the skeletal beasts of the island crippled and confused. Imagine, a hammer shining with starlight smashing into bones of dark spellwork. Imagine Elmara’s fires meeting Acyeatrix’s curses, her runic wards an impenetrable shield. Alchemist’s fire would have lit the island ablaze with color. Bit by bit, the Paladin of the Mask’s hammer shattered the soul and skeleton of the dungeon’s grand guardian and ally.

In the end, they were triumphant. Acyeatrix’s soul was incinerated in divine fire, and the terrifying dungeon core captured. The shards and treasures pillaged from the island would end up spreading quickly across the realms, ending up in far flung academies and the Empress’s palace as the bounty was paid out. But the most powerful shards and the core itself went to the Coruscant Band, who after officially binding Jalmin to them, vanished.

Though there is speculation as to what they did with the core—if they kept it, sold it, or pledged it to the Divine, we shall not investigate those rumors here. Instead, it is enough to recognize that the Band’s prowess saved countless lives, and stopped what could have been an plague of war and death across the lands and seas.

Vaulder paused his reading, and put a thin silk bookmark in the pages. Then, he remembered where he was, and coughed nervously. For a moment, reading about the grand adventure, he’d forgotten. He’d even been enjoying himself, however temporarily. Looking around the gray caverns of the second level, any peace he’d felt quickly vanished. He looked toward the Nameless Dungeon, or at least near it. There was a full minute of silence, broken only by the echoing hoots and horrible music of the ever-raucous kobolds.

I REQUIRE A BIOLUMINESCENT FISH. AND A MANTIS SHRIMP. THEY WOULD BE BEAUTIFUL ADDITIONS, the dungeon told Vaulder.

Vaulder frowned. He had read widely enough to know those specimens didn’t actually exist on the Azerule Coast. They were from some other part of the ocean. “Those… would be difficult to—” He felt his throat tightening. “I-I mean—of course! I-it will take time to procure them, but you are right, they would be splendid indeed!” He glanced around, wondering where the dungeon would actually put them in this desolate stone cavern quite unfettered with any source of salt water.

THAT DUNGEON OVERPLAYED ITS HAND. IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN MORE PATIENT. AND MORE DEVIOUS WITH ITS TRAPS.

He nodded, and glanced around. It wasn’t really a comment he felt he should reply to. He was also busy hoping that the dungeon would get so busy it would forget the request about the sea creatures. He really had no idea how to begin to get them all the way to Caltern.

WHAT HAPPENED TO ITS CORE? the dungeon asked.

“I don’t know—yet! Yet!” Vaulder squeaked out hurriedly. “But I will endeavor to find out!”

GOOD. THIS WAS A VALUABLE LESSON.

Here, Vaulder found his jaw open ever so slightly, and shut it quickly. Was that praise? It felt suspiciously nice. It still hadn’t stopped his hands from trembling.

YOU MAY GO.

So the scholar went, following a group of rats back up, stepping furtively the whole time. All the while, a kobold blew a flute in his ear, and once again Vaulder Claith found himself wallowing in silent misery, wondering what new nightmares he would have next.