Type of mage: Name of Affinity Patron Deity or Primal

Warlock/Necromancer/Dark Mage Nox Vesper

Cleric/Priest/ Light Mage/Illusionist Lux Claritas

-Glossary of Affinities and their Primals, Nys’vera Aesterith’s Treatise on Mana

Elenaril Amberkeep watched Wyvern’s Woe blaze through the first floor of the Fetid Wood’s dungeon. She was in an alcove on the first floor, designated a safe room where monsters could not get to her as long as she stayed within its confines. Though a dungeon safe room did not exactly come with furnishings, the mana was enough to get the enchantments on the scrying slate running.

It displayed grainy moving visuals of the adventurers as they duked it out with the monsters of the first floor. The view of swarms of swamp rats throwing themselves at the mercy of Wyvern’s woe still gave her the shivers. The vermin were dirty, oily, slippery and obviously toxic creatures that she would not even touch with a 10 mesur pole.

Mesurs, the talk about the new method of measuring distances was rather interesting; she wondered how far the distance was from Aldmoor to the nearest Mage academy. She shook her head; it would not do to have a wandering mind while she was supposed to oversee the evaluation. She was trying hard to concentrate; it was basically her first time doing an evaluation and the boredom was already getting to her.

It need not be mentioned that her rump was also saddlesore from riding hard in the morning so that they could get to the dungeon early to start their promotion evaluation. Of all the times, Elena had not seen Hanaestra so eager to get started. The other sylvani woman was the one who suggested that they make it there as soon as possible.

Yet before that, she’d not shown any outward signs of being on tenterhooks. Maybe she hadn’t noticed it because Yssinia had taken up most of her time.

Another sigh escaped her. Elena was already regretting taking on the request to do that kind of guild job. The gore and firing of spells and skills on the scrying slate had gotten monotonous and the jerky she was having for a snack was rather bland.

Watching a bunch of other people from the other side of the scrying slate would’ve been rather fun in another time but the lack of sound was rather off-putting. Even the exaggerated movements of the mage as if he was a mime artist as he cast his spells ceased being a novelty.

‘Aha,’ Elena facepalmed in realization, ‘those exaggerated movements were a habit of a noble upbringing where they just loved to show off cantrips with a flourish; that’s why he looks as is performing before an audience. He is definitely home taught too otherwise a [Mage Tutor] would have corrected him long ago.

Poor Ralf, I hope someone tells him that it’s a bad habit that he is supposed to leave behind; I can see he’s trying, but it’s a wonder that he’s survived this long under Hanaestra that power -leveling junkie. Maybe his spells are also that versatile after all… he did say he was a generalist [Mage].

When the party on the other end of the magical surveillance signaled that they were taking a break before the next floor via hand-speak, Elana felt like going to have some action of her own.

Maybe she could go out and stretch her legs or get some air; the atmosphere in the safe room was not exactly baby's breath. Like the dungeon’s name sake, it was rank like a swamp’s. It smelled of discarded vegetables and fermenting peat.

Communicating that she’d be taking a break to the adventurers via [Message] spell to the mage, she made to rise to get rid of the pins and needles building in her legs. But there was a sudden rumble and the dungeon shook as if an earthquake had hit.

Detritus and dust fell from the ceiling and out of reflex, Elena used her hands to protect her head but as she was unbalanced she fell backwards eliciting a yelp from hitting her sore bottoms.

‘Ow ow, what on Eryth!’ She rubbed her backside. Some dust had gotten into her eyes and hair but those were quickly dealt with using a [Cleanse] spell. She surveyed her surroundings, finding some ceiling tiles had barely missed falling on her after being dislodged. There were cracks crawling up the walls and the safe room looked ready to come down on her head.

‘Rot! I forgot about the slate,’ Elena panicked. She fussed over the cloth and pack she’d spread for her seat to uncover the slate. Fortunately, it had gotten away without a scratch from the occurrence but unfortunately, the connection to the adventurers was gone. She tried to infuse some mana into the runes, it lit up but it then sputtered out.

She tried the [Message] spell, and got—nothing there was something blocking her spell matrix from forming and the mana was too thin. Fearing the worst, she activated her guild issued emergency beacon, another type of crystal that one used to send a resonance signal to its twin at the guild. Again, she felt the magic activate—and fizzle out.

‘Calm down Elena,’ she slapped her cheeks.’ What does the guild’s guide say about things like these? Eh, find a place where responders would reach me; the safe rooms. But I am already in the safe room. Wyvern’s Woe might be in trouble if I can't reach them. I have to go and see what happened on their end. They did clear the way right? The dungeon wouldn’t reset before the day’s over…’

With a plan in mind, she armed herself with a guild issued wand of [Stone Dart] and holstered a dagger to the belt hanging from her hip. She also picked another emergency beacon which she clutched tightly in her off hand.

Then with a satchel of emergency potions worn like a bandolier across her bosom, she made her way towards the exit of the safe room.

‘You got this Elena, Halen did teach you everything he knows after all. You may not be an adventurer but you’ve been to the Shallows of the Vale and survived no problem.’ She shook her head.

’ The Shallows are a joke, moth rot! I should just go the other way and try the beacons from outside; they’re guaranteed to work that way.’ She put on foot ahead of the other, head on a swivel as she ducked under the lintel connecting the safe room to the main passageway. The safe room was the halfway point between the start of the first floor barrier and the main exit of the dungeon which sloped into the daylight.

The sylvani weighed her options; whether to go out and send the emergency beacon or check on Wyvern’s Woe to see if they were doing alright. “Ysinnia…” she murmured, “I hope she’s okay” and that stilled her warring indecision.

Elena took a right—into the dungeon. “[Light]!” she intonated. The tier 0 spell chased away the dreary darkness lighting her way. Her leather boots sank into the moist dirt as she navigated the debris that littered per path before reaching the barrier to the first floor.

“You can do this,” she exhaled, psyching herself. She put her palm against the translucent shimmering ward that separated the first floor of the dungeon proper from the outside.

Visibility was poor so she couldn’t make out anything past the ward even in the bobbing sphere of her mage light. Elena directed it forward with a flex of her will whilst pushing against the wards; she felt it give immediately and stumbled into the other side but she caught herself before she face-planted onto the dungeon floor.

The first thing that hit her was the smell. It was stuffy and sordid and stunk of decaying and congealed blood. ‘Ugh! primals and gods above, even boiling Halen’s socks wasn’t this bad,” she retched as her eyes teared up.

She used her free hand to tie a scarf against the lower half of her face. That done, she increased the mana to her mage light and sent it ahead of her again so she would take in her surroundings.

A dagger in hand and a wand in the other, she cast her eyes over the remains of the adventurers’ dalliance with the dungeon’s monsters. There was viscera, blood and remains of swamp rats all over the walls, the floor and the ceiling. Scorch marks from fire spells and pock marks where acid spells had eaten away at the rock also revealed themselves to her.

Elena hacked again, and bit back nausea as the air became more humid the further in she got, jumping over dismembered monster parts. She soldiered on, while watching out for the things that went bump in the darkness that her mage light didn’t reach,

‘How much further?’ she shivered, going deeper into the dungeon. Though the dungeon’s first floor was barely silver ranked, she was alone, poorly armed and unarmored.

Only her leather breast guard worn over her guild uniform protected her vitals—she felt naked and vulnerable. She was about to give up in favor of going back to exit and sending the emergency beacon when she happened upon a part of the dungeon that had collapsed covering the entire tunnel. Testing the rocks with her foot barely budged any of them.

‘Did the dungeon break?’ Elena paused, confused. ‘Short of runaway monsters, it’s never been this bad. Index finger and middle finger to her temple she muttered,

“[Message]! Ralf report, this is Elena can you hear me?” Silence—

The mana in the air was behaving strangely and her shouting would barely be of any use since the obstacle looked impervious. Getting more help was a forgone conclusion at this point so she turned on her heels and began to run back the way she’d come.

Just as she was about to breach the wards on her way out, her Danger Sense went off as her mage light winked out.

She let herself fall and rolled with the motion. The air whistled and a dagger screamed past the place her neck would have been.

The sylvani’s heart hammered against her chest as she scrambled to get to her feet and reach the wards a few paces away— but another whistling sound came from her rear and ricocheted off her hastily drawn dagger, spitting sparks and screeching. The action left her dominant hand numb.

“Who are you?! Show yourself...[Light]!” she shouted. The mage light winked out as soon as it manifested. There was no response from her attacker, no sound of footsteps approaching nor any sign of spell being cast in her mana sense.

She swirled her wand of [Stone Dart] in her off hand while her dominant hand recovered. Try as she might, her sylvani sight could not pick out any shapes or silhouettes in the semidarkness.

Elena’s breath came out in hard gasps while a cold sweat trickled down from the nape of her neck to the small of her back. The way her hands quivered while clammy threatened to let her weapons slip from her hands. It was at that moment she knew that her attacker was definitely toying with her, letting her tension build to make her sloppy.

She shuddered, almost at the point of despair as she slowly picked herself off the floor like a newborn fawn; her legs wobbled. The tension in the air was so palpable she could almost cut it with her dagger if she tried.

All the while her [Danger Sense] had gone quiet. This time she did not dare cast another [Light] spell if it would only give her way. Slowly and furtively, she moved backwards in a crouch.

‘If I can just get to the horses,’ she gulped. Her throat was becoming dry and her tongue felt like sand, glued as it was against the roof of her mouth.

‘Then what? they’ll just pick me off in the forest…”. She felt the film-like sensation of the wards passing over every pore of her skin as she emerged on the other side. This was it for her, she could make a run for it since the illumination on this side was better.

Another backward step and the heel of her boot stepped on—definitely not a carcass of a swamp rat. She froze, too late she realized her mistake. Too late in jerking forward or making use of her weapons, a doused rug muzzled her mouth before she could scream while another twisted her wrist painfully such that she dropped her dagger.

Elena tried to use her wand of [Stone Dart] too but her hand was restrained against her side from the forearm to the elbow.

The sylvani girl flailed and tried to use the heel of her boots to step on her captor to no avail. She could not get a read on them, their hands were gloved in a black velvety cloth that had no scent as the rest of their person.

Then her vision faltered, paralysis began to encroach from her extremities as her legs turned to jelly. Her scream died in her throat as her lungs began to wheeze painfully with every breath she took before the veil of unconsciousness took away her vision.

Elena came to, lying prostrate on the ground—back behind the wards. The uneven floor painfully dug into her hips, ribs and torso but she could not move as she was still paralyzed.

Her jaw was clenched shut and the only part of her that could move were her eyes which welled up in tears; from frustration and helplessness. She wriggled to try and reach the dungeon’s wards which were two paces away from her nose if her mana sense was right but the dungeon’s mana seemingly back at full density was making it hard to tell in her delirious state.

Taking stock of her bearings, she noticed that still had her guild satchel on her. The guild issue bag was however, only attached to her by the strap but she could not reach its contents if she tried.

Maybe a Potion of Healing or Rejuvenation would forefend the paralysis and let her reclaim the use of her arms but it was too far to reach. Time was wasting and if she didn’t get up soon, the dungeon would release its monsters and she would be a target for swamp rats. Elena choked back a sob as she imagined being devoured by a swarm…