《The Realm Beneath: A Dungeon Story》Chapter 12

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Chapter 12

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[Sigurd]

A harsh roar ripped through the night, jerking me from my sleep. With a start, I sat up, my heart pounding with a rapid series of palpitations that shook my chest and sent sharp jolts of pain lashing through me.

Slowly my breathing normalised and my heartrate began to drop as nothing further split the night. Quiet reigned supreme and I let myself fall back onto the bed with a slight bounce as my head smacked into the pillow with a soft thump. Taking a few deep breaths, I pulled the covers back up to my shoulders as it had fallen down when I had sat up. Snuggling down into the warmth of the comforting bed, I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep.

Alas, it wasn’t long before I was woken. Quite rudely I must add. These people were ever so crude.

As it turned out, it was Jackson that had roused me from my slumber. He had chucked a shield onto my stomach and winded me quite thoroughly. He laughed with a deep hearty chuckle that couldn’t help but raise my spirits. With a yawn, a stretch and a glower, I stared him out of my room and forced myself to get up.

Sitting around the table with them, it took us a while to get sorted and have breakfast. First, we had to find everyone, and rouse them. Jackson had woken first, something I wouldn’t have bet any money on if you’d have asked me the night before, Kael certainly, but Jackson? No. I wouldn’t have called that.

He had roused me, having got tired of waiting and not wanting to wander around a stranger’s house in the early morning.

I set some water to boil and we tracked down the others, waking them up in a far gentler manner. Damn shield. Why couldn’t he have woken me with a nudge.

When the others were up and not liable to go back to sleep I returned to the kitchen and chopped up some of the Ael bark, letting it steep for two minutes before fishing out the fibres and disposing of them. The pan went back on the now cooling stove to remain warm and I sat down to wait.

As Jackson and I sat, waiting for the rest to turn up, he questioned me some more. I couldn’t say much else about the dungeon though. Never one for poncey words and flowery language, I couldn’t think how else to describe the dungeon than ‘a realm beneath the ground’. Huge caverns of life sat below the ground, buried deep within the mountain as if they had always been there. Separate from the world. Its own little thing. He would have to see for himself.

It was important to get a good meal in before delving, it would fill you up and grant enough energy for a tough day’s work.

They said that you shouldn’t exercise after a meal, though I hadn’t ever believed it myself – hogwash if you ask me - there was still enough of a trek to settle it down. As long as we weren’t bloated and slow I thought we’d be fine.

As we sat, chatting and preparing, I got to know them a little better. Jenna, the healer was a bit more studious, enjoying a good book when the adrenalin wasn’t pumping.

Whereas Lorelei was a party animal. I guess that goes with the fiery nature then.

Kael was a bit of a prankster, constantly teasing the others and pulling little stunts that would simultaneously infuriate and amuse them.

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Jackson the tank was a very creative person. He would carve little pieces of art out of wood and give them to his nieces when he visited. His family lived quite far to the north towards the border in the northern mountains. They were small and numerous whereas the Avaltjarn was one singular rising peak that towered over the landscape.

At precisely the centre, the Avalt split the land into the sections of a wheel. Each section housing different biomes, species and civilisations.

Tales told of other lands beyond the wall, but there had been no substantiated reports of anyone crossing the blight for thousands upon thousands of years.

The wheel had been formed by the conclave of Magi to protect the civilised races from the devils. The primordial ones at least. As well as being powerful beyond measure they had been driven insane by the horrific conditions of their lands.

The histories told of the invasions of ages gone and the endless war that had raged until all anyone knew was war.

It spoke of the gathering and retreat. It spoke of the losses and lives. Eventually we had succumbed to the unstoppable wave of devils and retreated into the crater, magical walls of sealing and the strongest protections had been created to seal out the danger. But that was millennia ago and many didn’t believe of the dangers.

Many argued that we had been sealed away from the world for our sins. Many argued there was nothing past the walls but endless void, and others still argued that it was a test of the gods, that salvation was but a wall away. A utopia that we could live forever within.

I thought that perhaps the histories had it right. It was hard to believe that the crater was it. That we knew the world to completion. I was almost certain that there wasn’t a utopia waiting for us. Why on earth would there be? No. That was the easy answer, an answer for those too cowardly to face the truth. There was no benevolent god just waiting for us, just a being of both good and evil, letting us play our games, wage our wars and pulling the strings all the while. The puppeteer to our marionette.

Maybe I was right, maybe I wasn’t. But I believed the histories.

Perhaps someday we would once again venture outside and explore the surface of the lands beyond.

Who knows what treasures lurk out there?

War machines for sure. The remnants of our civilisations, having fought decade after decade. Generations of generations had been groomed and bred for war resulting in a combined army more terrifying than anything ever before or after, but it was not enough.

Snapping out of my thoughts I took a big bite of the crispbread and went back to pondering my companions.

Sebastien was still a mystery. He was very withdrawn, and I had yet to see an emotional response. He was very serious and controlled. He reminded me of an aristocrat, though not a slimy prick, odd. He seemed afraid to open up. If he was in fact from the high life it made sense; you would just be taken advantage of by exposing your feelings. Cold. That’s what the nobles were.

We hadn’t really interacted much. And that sense of cold and calculating might just stem from worry. Perhaps he worried I’d be a liability in the dungeon and could cause his team injury or worse, death.

It was a valid concern. I was untested and new. There was always a shakedown period to find out how someone fitted in a group. But when that uncertainty could mean death, teams usually took it easy. But we couldn’t do that. We had to map the dungeon out in its entirety.

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We were ready. Our armour was together and in perfect condition. Our weapons were sharp and oiled. Our bags full and minds focused. I pulled my door closed with a slam, jammed the key in and rattled it around before it finally turned pulling the latch across, locked.

It was still early morning and the night’s chill had yet to dissipate. Dew clung to the branches of trees, the blades of grass and the corners of buildings. Looking across the fields, they sparkled with an ethereal lustre that made it seem more magical.

It was a dead silence that none of us seemed eager to break. Even the birds didn’t want to disturb the serenity. There was no wind at all.

It felt momentous, like the world was waiting for that first, single, step.

We left the village and headed up the path, quietly. Aware of the neighbours, and, being the considerate people we were, we respected the morning serenity.

Soon the soft gravel ended, and a more jagged dirt path began. Clumps of soil gave away and sharp rocks jutted out seemingly at random. It was a difficult trip and soon we left the trail altogether. The landscape started to change; the trees from a type of maple to a denser fir. Big thick branches formed from the huge trunks and loomed overhead, the small pine cones, bullets.

The ground was a dark brown from the decaying needles of the previous fall. Beetles and various other decomposers had reduced the fallen branches and twigs into a soft loamy ground good for growth, ready to start the cycle all over again.

I pushed through the foliage batting away ferns and plants with big broad leaves with my hands, clearing a path. Though I knew the way, it seemed somehow unfair that I had to clear the path.

As the ground began to grow steeper, golden light filtered through the trees and leaves illuminating the previously dark forest. The textures of the shadows changed from a murky shrouding black to a soft silky black that hinted at what lay hidden. The shadows elongating and distorting with the rising sun.

As we trekked onwards and upwards, the gnarled, knotted and winding roots of fallen trees emerged into the warmth of the light whilst the branches reached down as if trying to touch us as we passed underneath.

The gentle lapping sounds of a small stream was first to break the resounding silence and soon after, the birds chirped their merry tune as the world began to wake, unfurling to meet us.

We hopped over the stream at its narrowest point, leaping onto the soft mossy embankment on the other side and leaving deep boot prints.

As I jumped, I looked down into its crystal-clear shallows. Light coloured pebbles and sand shone through the water as it flowed endlessly and ceaselessly, polishing the surfaces smooth.

Small fry could be seen darting around. Further down, where the stream opened up; joined by the other small tributaries that flowed from the mountain to form the larger brook that flowed passed the town, larger predators preyed upon these small helpless animals to feed themselves and their young.

We were about halfway, and the sun had risen properly and was steadily climbing higher in the sky. It would reach be nearing its pinnacle when we made it, ready to begin its long sorrowful descent.

The ground once again grew steeper and my legs began to seriously burn with the exertion of the climb. Surprisingly it was not the girls that complained first but Jackson. Mages usually didn’t have the time to exercise fully as they had to spend long hours in study and meditation to improve their power. It was rare for them to be athletic and so it surprised me that they hadn’t called for a stop first. Though judging by their faces they weren’t far off.

It wasn’t too much longer into the walk when the dungeon appeared. It was a cave opening facing our east, so we could barely see it. Thus, my companions had not spotted the pitch-black darkness of its opening yet. Most caves would look very similar.

It took another twenty minutes to pick our way to its entrance as the landscape was very hard to navigate. Probably something to do with the explosion that had announced it to the world.

They walked with a spring in their step and an enthusiasm that I had not come to expect from them once I had told them we were nearly there. No matter how hard we had it or how much we had lost, there was nothing like stepping into a dungeon for the first time and braving its depths to return with glory or not to return at all. It seemed that no matter your skill level the feeling of giddiness never went away.

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[Jenna]

The morning was beautiful. A serenity pervaded the place that was impossible in the cities she had lived in. It settled over her and incited a feeling of contentment, happiness even. Jenna saw why someone like Sigurd would be happy to retire to here. It was so peaceful, calming. The glistening dew illuminated by the encroaching rays of dawn lit up and small rainbows scattered on the floor occasionally.

They left in quick fashion and headed up into the mountains. The path through the forest on the lower sides of the mountain soon dwindled away into nothingness and they began properly trekking. Hopped over a small stream they pressed on into the now golden, warm forest. The birds woke up and began chirping at the break of a new day.

The ground tilted further up, soon they would be rock climbing rather than hiking. Sigurd pressed on to her amazement and Jenna was just thinking about asking to stop when Jackson asked first.

Yes! It wasn’t me.

She couldn’t help but be pleased, although from the look of everyone else they were also struggling. Sigurd looked a little tired, but he wasn’t panting like the rest of them.

The altitude must be playing a factor she thought.

Far too soon the break was over, and they pressed on. The girls and Jackson, barely having recovered.

Worries that she would be slowing down were unfounded as soon Jenna felt rejuvenated. She suspected they were getting closer to the dungeon as the elevated mana levels were having an effect.

It didn’t take long for them to see the entrance to the cave. Only for a brief glimpse though, as Sigurd led them of around the side and it disappeared from view.

The going got much tougher after that as vertical walls and blocks of rock halted the progress. Sigurd had said that there was an explosion when the dungeon was revealed, and this must have been the result. Despite the ambient mana Jenna was sweating by the time they reached the entrance. The rest looked just as haggard, Sigurd included.

The entrance was about 3m in height and 3m in width with the rough shape of an arch framing the black mist. The rocks were jagged and had seemingly no regularity to it.

It looked like some god had taken a giant pair of pliers to it and broken chunks of it off. There were jagged ridges with perfectly smooth sides and odd angles. It also had the effect of looking slightly like a giant upper jaw ready to take a bite out of you. The sinister darkness within the maw of the cliff didn’t help settle the uneasy stomach that she felt. An oddity since Jenna was usually unflappable, indubitably so.

Get a grip Jenna she told herself, the worst thing she could do would be to freak out. That would do no one any good. Forcing herself to take a few deep breaths and calm down was a good idea and it didn’t take too long to regain composure. I’m a professional after all.

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[Lorelei]

The quite of the early morning was peaceful and frankly lovely, though Lore would die before admitting it. She was the party animal after all and it wouldn’t do any good for this to get out.

The trek up the mountain was tiring and tough. They only stopped for one break and she found herself watching Sigurd with interest.

The trek was tough, and the aging man was a much better guide than Lore had originally thought. At first, she had thought him a lucky bumbling fool, tiresome to bring along and ignorant. But so far everything he had done was professional and showed a degree of forethought that was rare in adventurers.

Not one known for calm decision making and forethought, Lore embodied the element of fire and her rash judgement was one of the flaws she readily admitted to. It was one of the reasons she couldn’t be a leader. The ice cold demeaner of Seb was needed, patience and planning rather than passion and presumptions.

Only time would tell, but she expected she would be wrong in her initial judgement of Sigurd. Though he comported himself without the inner confidence and big personality of most adventurers, nor the arrogance and entitlement of the aristocracy, he was not a stupid fool who had stumbled upon the dungeon.

As they walked, Lore watched him. Sure, footed and confident in his motions he had no missteps or stumbles. He scanned the paths in wide sweeping motions and constantly checked on the following members. He was a good guide.

It wasn’t long before she noticed the increased mana was rejuvenating her. They were getting closer.

When they settled down to prep in front of the entrance, Lore observed it carefully. She may be rash and impulsive, but she wasn’t stupid. She would listen to Seb and Sigurd, take her time and observe as best she could.

The entrance was ominous and foreboding, with the impenetrable darkness that loomed ahead and the jagged cliff that looked like teeth.

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[Kael]

After the roar that ripped the night apart, Kael hadn’t managed to get to sleep again. It was not quite the dead of night but nor was it the early morning. So, he had to lie restless, pondering the dungeon for a few more hours.

From what Sigurd had told them the dungeon had large caverns. This was unusual, very in fact as he had only heard of the deadliest of dungeons having caverns of the size he had described, and it would be certainly much later in their floors. He had said that the very first level was a cavern, almost harmless but it did indicate something unusual was going on.

He had described it as woodland which could indicate that it was a nature affinity dungeon. But then again only the first three floors had been explored.

Kael rolled over and tried some rest if not sleep.

To Kael it seemed only moments from when he closed his eyes to when he was woken, rudely, by a shove that knocked him from the bench.

“Children” He muttered under his breath in a disproving tone, glaring at Jackson. It was a rare moment when the lumbering brute got the drop on him and he had taken his chance well. I’ll get you back my friend. Just you wait.

A lovely, fresh morning provided the perfect opportunity for some mischief. As they walked Kael started to lag behind. He winked at Sigurd letting him know not to draw attention to it. Kael had thought the man might be stuffy and uptight, but he seemed to play along. Good man.

Time to disappear.

However, before he could go, Seb shook his head slightly. With a sigh Kael hurried to catch up. Seb had a point. They were stepping into an unknown environment, one that was out of the ordinary. It would do no good to be working on frayed nerves. Jackson would get it, just, a little bit later.

Sigurd was like a machine, endlessly plodding on up the ever-steepening hill with nary a fluctuation in pace or monotony.

A long time later they had nearly made it. Kael had glimpsed the entrance, but they were now circling around the terrain to get to it from the other side since the closest one had been impassable. Kael moved with a fleetness and nimbleness that made it seem easy, but the others, the clumsy ones especially, struggled immensely. With wasted energy they tired all the sooner. Kael enjoyed the sense of superiority it gave him and had long voiced his opinion that it should be formal training among the adventurers to observe such practices.

Annoyingly, Sigurd had no trouble. He thought it might have come with the dwarvern ancestry Sigurd surely had.

His feet seemed glued to the ground, never slipping or sliding. He carried a battle axe, he marched ever onwards. Short and stocky build. Definitely some dwarf in there somewhere he assumed.

They eventually made it and settled in at the entrance to prepare.

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[Jackson]

Stupid damn mountain!

For the thousandth time on our trek, Jackson slipped and stumbled on the ascent. Not only did it seem to be a 45-degree angle, but it was slippery and covered in a fine layer of loose gravel that gave way under almost no pressure.

He was irritated.

For goodness sake I’m carrying thrice the weight of Kael. He told himself when a pointed comment came flying his way. He knew they didn’t mean it, but it got irritating after a while.

Anyone could be as nimble if they didn’t have to lug this weight around and up a damned mountain.

The dungeon cast an imposing opening. Jagged and pitch black it would swallow you whole when you entered to explore its depths. It unnerved him, but he would venture onwards despite his apprehension. That’s just what you did.

They stopped outside, and he let his pack fall off with a loud thump and clatter.

Whew glad that’s off my back.

He took a seat on a smooth rocky outcropping and took a long swig of water as he let his heart rate fall from the strenuous exertion of climbing a mountain.

After a short break Jackson unpacked the armour and began strapping the plate to his body. It took a good twenty minutes and some help from the others until it was fitted just right. There was nothing quite like the feel of fitted plate surrounding you. Invincible. He liked that.

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[Sebastien]

The journey up to the dungeon was a tough one and Seb was glad the others had asked for a break before he had had to call one. They wouldn’t have believed it was for the good of the group, no the ribbing would be intolerable.

Once they were ready at the entrance he called a huddle to discuss our game plan.

“All right guys, gather round, gather round.” He said, waiting for them to get closer.

“Ok, so, another new dungeon and another new challenge. New dangers and traps as well as new treasure and wonders to behold. Keep your head on straight and stay tight. Same formation as normal. Jackson up front and you girls behind him. Kael take our left and I’ll take right until we reach the limit of what we already know. That by the way is the end of the second floor. Sigurd you’ll lead us through the first two floors and slot into Kael’s position once we reach the swamp.” Seb dictated, stepping into the role of leader. They nodded, agreeing. Everyone knew plans changed constantly and the mark of a good team was how little had to be said to fluidly change. Good they were focused.

“Kael, once we reach the swamp, you will take the lead and we’ll follow. At the first sign of danger drop to the rear or an elevated position and snipe. Jackson, well tough the hits and hack it whilst the girls support with magic. If it’s a lone monster I’ll flank and attack from the rear. If it’s a group, Jackson drop your spear and I’ll pick it up and fight around you as usual. Guys it’s the same as always and of course subject to change. Keep it tight and let’s go.”

They took the first step into the unknown, following Sigurd as the black mist embraced them.

A large clatter and crash sounded and carried on for a second. They all paused. Well not all…

“I’m fine, fine!” called an embarrassed Sigurd.

“Just some stairs” he called out after a brief pause. Seb doubted it was the way he wanted their first delve to go. Though it was pretty funny. Apparently, the dungeon had taken note of how and changed since he first entered.

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