Nick

The night before

The money I'd gotten from the purge had only lasted me a month before I'd gone back to expeditions with the rest of Nightshade. Mary was on my ass constantly about how I drink too much. I don't think I drink enough, to be quite honest, but I won't tell anyone else that. No need to dig into old wounds. So I'd currently been drinking in the guild bar as much as I could manage.

The rest of the money that didn't go to drinking, I made sure to spread it between Lilly and the rest of Team Honey. Seeing my little sister praying so earnestly always warmed my heart just a little bit. Seeing those remaining from Honey brightened everything just a little bit more. The drink also dulled the nightmares, the pain, the anger. Nightshade was a good fit, to help close the cracks in the proverbial wall. They always had been ever since I joined up with them.

Johnathan was a nice anchor. Reliable, stalwart, and calm. Made things easier down in the dark, where anything could happen. Mary, the almost nauseatingly self-righteous woman, was admittedly, a good mage. Much as I hate how she always keeps me from getting more money out of a job, or how she tries to hold me back from getting into a good brawl, I have to admit that she's good at what she does. David, of course, I considered to be a jackass with no sense of humor. He could be as pious as he liked, but the fact that he never went out to have a drink, or to enjoy a night on the town with the rest of us, always made me feel like he didn't want to fit in, despite Mary's repeated affirmations that he's the best cleric for Nightshade.

My ale was nice and cold as I stared into it, both hands wrapped around the pint. My head felt a bit fuzzy, but the warmth in my belly helped keep me awake enough to think. Of course, the fuzzy feeling kept the worst thoughts at bay.

Drinking alone is nice. No conversations, no worries, and as much ale as I could want, so long as I do my best to not slur too much.

I raised my hand to the bartender, signaling that I was ordering another drink, despite my current ale still being full. Taking a drink, the liquid tasting faintly sweet, yet still having a slight burn as it went down. I'd asked several times about how they made the brew, but they always waved me off, saying that it was a guild secret. I'd seen a larger man attempt to get the recipe by force, only to be knocked on his ass by one of the serving women. I'd later learned that same serving woman was level thirty nine, and she was some sort of close combat class.

At the moment, I could probably take one of the serving women of that level, considering the fact that I was sitting pretty at level fourty three, but the ale was good, and people left me alone for the most part. I also didn't like my odds against more than one of them, considering that there were always at least four on duty at any given point to keep the most rowdy in check.

As I took another drink, I fished in one of my pouches for another silver coin, my hand slowly grasping a few until I finally took a deep breath, and got one out, and onto the table. It wouldn't do to order another drink, only to be too drunk to get the money to pay for more. That tended to be the unspoken rule between me and the bartender. If I wasn't too rowdy, and could keep paying for my drinks, I wouldn't be cut off immediately. It would only happen after I could no longer pull coins out of my pouch. Sometimes it took minutes for me to give up, sometimes hours. Of course, tonight I planned on getting really, really drunk. The fact that I was still coherent enough to pay for my drinks in advance meant that it would take awhile tonight.

It didn't take long for the next ale to arrive, not that I noticed, being deep into my mug at the time. One moment, the coin sat on the table, the next, a mug of ale was in its place, the foam slowly spilling over the side. And someone was sitting opposite me.

"Evening, Nick. What's this? Seventh mug?" Peter, the guild leader, leaned back in the chair, doing his best to get comfortable. He was wearing a fancy looking blue jacket, with the guild symbol embroidered right over where the heart would be.

Figures he'd wear fancy stuff. Been gone from the dungeon for too long.

"Ninth." I grunted in response, grabbing the new mug as I finished with the old. "Got a job?" I asked. Even with the fuzzy feeling keeping me from thinking entirely clearly, Peter didn't normally show up in the bar to talk with anyone. Mostly he would drink in his office from better stuff than I had in front of me.

Peter nodded, as he leaned forward, finding himself unable to get fully comfortable in that chair.

Probably too accustomed to fancy leather.

"There's been a problem with the dungeon. William found it from someone else almost two nights ago." He pulled out some paper from the jacket, and slid it across the table, keeping it to the side of all the mugs of ale that hadn't been picked up yet. Looking at it, it still seemed fresh and new, like most guild reports always did.

Guild Assessment of Catastrophe Dungeon located in Chilaak, Kingdom of Nevaya

Analyst: William Segorson

Chilaak Branch Leader: Peter Steelwind

It has been discovered that the operation to sweep the first, and second floors clear of all monsters in order to deal with a potential unique monster with the capacity to learn, grow, and lead, was a failure in its objective. This information was discovered when the analyst mentioned previously connected reports of changing monster populations, behavior, tactics, and dungeon team casualties, along with physical evidence of second floor skeletons on the fourth floor of the dungeon. It has been theorized that skeletons have invaded both the third and fourth floor in secret, and drastically culled the populations of both floors in an effort to obtain greater strength. As monsters who do not eat, sleep, breathe, drink, or rest, each skeleton who leaves the second floor for an extended period of time has been deemed able to reach at least level eight, a level sufficient to challenge a less experienced individual in a one to one combat scenario. The older skeletons however, have been thought to be able to reach at least level twenty two, a level fit to challenge a regular dungeon team. With this information, it has been determined that immediate action is required in order to stop a dungeon break with the strength to severely damage the city, and the Kingdom of Nevaya, from occuring.

The analyst has recommended a raid, consisting of many regular dungeon teams, and multiple experienced dungeon teams in order to subjugate this threat. The number of participants has been left to the discretion of the branch leader, along with recruitment.

Finally, the main office sends their regards, and a sum of five thousand gold coins to be used to pay any and all participants. We sincerely hope for a successful operation.

-Main office of The Guild of Dungeon Exploration, Kingdom of Terrice

It took me a long time to read through the whole thing, as the letters and words kept moving and shifting around. I'm pretty sure I also spilled a little bit of ale on the report, but I wasn't too worried. They could always make more.

What worried me, was the fact that they were organizing a raid. A raid with several dungeon teams, in fact. I couldn't stop myself for imagining Lilly having to fight for her life in a raid against a monster who could lead an army of what would probably seem like legions of the damned. I couldn't stop myself from remembering the arrow that managed to hit Johnathan in the neck. The skeleton running from us. The fire that we used to burn the rest of them to ashes.

Two months. How much stronger... Would they be in two months?

Even through the intoxicated haze, my thoughts must have been clear, as Peter pulled the report away. "We need Nightshade on this one, along with the other teams that were part of the purge two months ago. You'll have more experience than the rest of the teams that join in. You'll also be paid in gold. I know it's not a job you normally do, but I hope you understand, the raid will need experienced rangers, mages, guardians, and clerics if we want to have any hope of succeeding. The report said level eight and twenty two, but I personally think we might see skeletons stronger than that. That's why I hope you'll agree to participate." Peter has clasped his hands together as he leaned on the table.

"Without the ever so famous team Nightshade, I'm worried that younger, less experienced dungeon teams will be unable to find their courage. So I'll be speaking to the other members of your team as well. For now, I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening. Drinks are on me for the rest of the night." He stood up, and nodded to me as he put away the report. I hadn't managed to bring the still foaming drink to my lips during the whole conversation. As he turned and left, I forced myself to take a drink, but the sweet tasting liquid didn't feel like it had done a damn thing to numb the memories that were forcing themselves to the surface of my mind. I ordered drink, after drink, after drink. The faces and crumpled bodies wouldn't go away. Finally, almost mercifully, I blacked out soon after I lost count of how much I'd drank.

When I finally came to, my head was pounding, the lights were too bright, there was too much noise, and everything was just too much.

"Finally awake, Nick? Or did all that alcohol rot your brain?" I heard the voice of my sister to my left, each word a hammer sending a nail ever deeper into my skull. I groaned in response.

"Hey Nick, do you know anything about the raid that the guild is organizing? We were thinking about joining for the experience and pay, if it's good." Someone else spoke. One of my sisters' team members, probably. The pain was almost unbearable, but the content of the words was what finally got me to look up, the world seeming to be dyed in shades of grey. The four of them looked hopeful for any information I might have.

Fuck.