Nick

He had trusted me. Johnathan trusted me when I said things would be easier this time. Now we were sitting around the stairs leading back down to the second floor, and he was dead. Mary had burned down the scarecrows again and again in a fit of grief. She was currently knelt in the middle of all the ash and dust. I'd never seen David get genuinely angry. Not once. He had nearly snapped my arm like a twig when I tried to stop him from going back down to the second floor. He was still down there, the force of his spells likely going to trigger a dungeon frenzy soon enough, not that I believed that would stop him.

As for me, I sat at the top of the stairs with my flask in hand, draining it as much as I could, going through a few extra bottles I kept tucked away in my bag of holding. I was drunk, but it wasn't helping at all, the numb feeling just serving to remind me of his screams being suddenly cut off, of those three galvanized skeletons who just refused to die, and of the fact that we lost track of them in less than a minute.

The roar of flames hot enough to melt through solid steel started up behind me again. It seemed the scarecrows had returned and Mary was losing her mind again.

Neither David nor Mary were listening to me at the moment. I didn't know if they blamed me, but if they did I wouldn't stop them. I'd been the one to give the all clear before everything went to shit, and I'd been the one who was so damned confident in my plan.

I took another long drink, the burn barely noticed past the heat that seemed to boil the air around me. I wondered who would be next in the line of people to die. Would it be me? Mary? David? I continued draining the bottle as I pondered that particular question, the force of both fire from behind and unknown skills from below buffetting me again and again.

Memories began to resurface in my mind, the bodies of Team Honey appearing as if to taunt me. Their screams as they died, the sickening crunch as Judy was smashed by a golem's fist, her blood splattering all over the ground. I remembered Vincent's body being torn in half between two bodies of stone even as I fired arrow after arrow, screaming at the top of my lungs.

I began to drink as much as my body would allow from the bottle, though the memories only seemed to intensify. Vance being stabbed through the heart by a raging bundle of bones. Mary having her organs torn out of her even as we teleported away. Johnathan screaming as he was dragged into the dark.

Suddenly I was the one screaming as I threw the bottle against the wall, its contents splashing against the ground. Who would be next after them? Would it be Jacob? Serena? Vance again? Lilly? Who would die next because I was so damned weak?

I didn't even realize I was on my feet, walking up behind Mary, spinning her around, and slapping her as hard as I could so that she would stop burning the dungeon down for at least one second. She nearly took my head off with a [Hellfire Beam] before simply collapsing into my arms and sobbing violently, her sorrowful wailing echoing all around us. I just stood there and held her for awhile, even as the sounds of battle reverberated from the second floor where David was rampaging.

When she finally stopped crying we had ended up sitting against the wall while she fell asleep due to exhaustion. I had stopped drinking for now as the memories and doubt washed over me. I'd not been completely sober in a very long time, and I was just a bit thankful that what I had drank earlier was strong, my mind just slow enough that it wasn't fully comprehending everything that was whirling around in my head.

It had been a long time since I had a job like this, where lives were expended as if they were totally meaningless. The last time was a journey into a separate dungeon that had broken, it's monsters spilling out into the countryside. Nightshade had been the only experienced team on hand to help deal with it, all the others filled out with new dungeoneers, trained and untrained alike.

The grief some of those teams showed at the time seemed to bleed into the pain that wracked my aching heart now. Even as Mary slept I began to cry, though I did my best not to make a sound as the tears slid down my cheeks.

David came back maybe an hour later, his mace completely bent out of shape and covered in bone dust. He said nothing, opting instead to just sit down against the wall next to me, his weapon laid across his lap.

It was a long time before I found the strength to speak. "I won't force either of you to stay, but I'm going to remain here to keep things from getting worse while I can. It's the least I can do to honor Johnathan." I neglected to mention how I was also doing so in a futile attempt to avenge Team Honey, and that I was probably going to die a rather horrible death in the next few weeks, if not days.

It took even longer for David to reply. "I'm staying." His voice was hoarse, and I could only guess why. As for why he chose what he did, I let him keep it to himself.

Mary woke up a little later, seemingly having been able to pull herself back from the overwhelming grief she was likely feeling. Unfortunately, I had another weight I had to drop into our collective laps. "If I don't make it out of here and one of you does, can I ask you to take care of my sister? I've made more mistakes than I can count, but she's the one good thing I was able to help with after our parents died. I don't want that effort to go to waste." I received a nod from both of them.

"If we're making last requests, then I'd like for my parents to be taken care of in their old age. They might not like you if they find out you worked with me, but they're good people." Mary had moved away from me at this point, wrapping her arms around he knees and resting her chin on them.

"Nothing for me. I've made my peace." David barely croaked out a few words. I couldn't blame him. If I'd had the strength to do so, I might've forgone my image as a ranger to slaughter the skeletons too.

I reached into my bag of holding and brought out the best bottle I'd manage to get my hands on, the drink inside costing a fortune. "I meant for this to be drank in celebration once we found fame and fortune." I uncorked it and raised it high. "To Johnathan." I took a drink, and passed it to David. It was the first time I saw the man drink anything alcoholic. He passed it back to me, and I passed it over to Mary, who took a longer drink than I had.

"To Johnathan." They spoke in unison. "Best damn guardian we could've ever asked for." The bottle was passed around several more times before it was finally drained.

We told stories about him for awhile, giving him what little we could for a proper dungeoneer funeral.

After that I made sure we wouldn't let the alcohol that filled our minds lead us down there until it had cleared up. The next step in honoring him would be vengeance. I didn't have a full idea of how we were going to achieve it, but we were either going to bleed or severely injure those damnable bags of bones, if not outright kill them off for good.

Mary and David seemed to agree with this plan of action, their rage and grief being bottled up for the moment, to be released in full later on. David worked on bending his mace back into shape while Mary sat and meditated, using one of her more passive skills to aid in her mana regeneration.

As for me, I just checked my equipment several times over to ensure I didn't miss anything. There were a few nicks and scrapes on my armor, but it would hold together well enough for either a lengthy campaign or a single suicide mission. The bow would work well enough for the same purpose.

None of us spoke during our various preparations, all of us getting an idea of what we were about to be plunging ourselves into. I thought of Lilly during this time. The way she always nagged me when I drank in the tavern, but was always willing to help me to my bed when I could no longer stand up straight. The way she grinned at me as I bought her a stuffed toy when she was little. The way her eyes trembled when we were both orphaned and homeless.

I wouldn't fail her or anyone else outside the dungeon. Not this time. As I went through the rest of my gear I started thinking of what would do the most damage to a small army of tireless skeletons who kept gaining more and more strength. Bleeding them slowly was no longer an option, but attacking them head on also wouldn't work.

In order to do any real damage to them I decided that we would be bleeding them not from the source of new skeletons, but we would instead bleed them of any strays on the fourth floor, including the monsters they typically hunted. This in turn might draw them out for another attack on us which we would have to repel. If it worked though, killing their leader might just become possible.

I checked my bow one more time. We had work to do.