I was faced with a large cavern that seemed to span kilometers in each direction. The marble floor turned to a jumble of stones, patches of moss and standing torch posts dotting it. The small crackle of flame however could not hold a candle to the cries, the cries of monsters. From the abominable sand worms to basilisks, countless varieties of horror filled the pens to my left. Rusty iron bars that had an aura of magic to them keep the beasts within their spaces and nullify the magical abilities of its prisoners, allowing safe passage to and from this area. No demon staffed the area, only the undead, who were performing countless tasks. Some were draining blood from huge, round tick-looking monsters while others finished off some orcs to dissect for pork. Note to self, never touch any daggers that belong to the undead staff. Countless blood splatters of countless monsters stained their clothes, causing the undead here to have an air of intimidation compared to their other compatriots. Seeing my entrance, one, seeing that I had nothing on hand, handed me their spare... dagger (I dully hope I can clean my hands after this) and pointed to a giant cockroach. Gods, what have I done to deserve this?

A couple of undead restrained the cockroach for me, tying it down with ropes as the roach itself remained still. I climbed on top of it, readying my blade to plunge into its head to give it a quick end. I shall omit the gory details for the sake of my sanity, but it was quite the contrary. I shall just say that the roach did not die after a few strikes and remained quite alive until dozens of stabs later. It seemed even in this world, cockroaches still had their same vitality (and/or my lacking strength). Some negibile experience flowed into me, but it was not enough to outweigh my disgust at having to participate as the lynchpin of that ordeal. A sickly yellow color stained my suit from head to toe, leading to one of my undead helpers handing me a new suit before dissecting it. Changing out of my clothes, I wanted to throw up, but did not because that would blow my cover. Despite my hang-ups, I decided to keep the blood soaked dagger, given its quality. I am no blacksmith, but I could tell this dagger offered so effortlessly to the undead servants was better than the garbage the Church offered to me.

I slinked away before anything else was requested of me. I did not have the heart to go on. If my mind had a health stat, I would be hanging on with only one health point right about now. Wandering away, I would stumble upon a much less populated section of the cavern. Only a single servant was in sight as I walked through. Seeing my apparent slacking, the lone servant (a zombie this time) came to seemingly chew me out. I say seemingly because it only angrily gurgled and growled at me, pointing towards yet another cage. Just about done with it all and it being the only other servant around, I lashed out, sticking my new dagger in its neck. My logical side catching up to the situation, the life left my face as I realized what I had done, but a strange thing happened. The zombie did attempt to fight back, a stab to the neck not being of too much danger to an undead compared to the living. However, its battle groans became hoarse and strained as it began to freeze up. Collapsing to the floor, it was still ‘alive’ but it could not even move its jaw to yell for reinforcements. Withdrawing the dagger stuck in its throat, I eventually finished it off, gaining yet more experience, but not enough to level up.

Was it the cockroach blood? Was it a paralytic poison? My opinion of the cockroach began to shift, it was not a disgusting bug… it was a beautiful gifter of poison! The Church might not approve of it, but poison was an amazing addition to my repertoire.

Throwing the corpse through the hatch of a pen of chimeras to hide the evidence of my murder, I pressed on. As much as they were terrifying, the monsters I passed by were also quite interesting. A colony of strange void-like blobs that came together to form a shadowy copy of the servant tending to it, miniature dragons that flew around their cage with tiny wings, something that seemed like a living cloud (which consumed its prey by completely surrounding it), and a veritable circus of other oddities. It was like visiting a zoo for the first time all over again, seeing new creatures you would never even think possible before. But the grand prize of my expedition was soon to come.

I locked eyes on a huge door at the edge of the cavern. Heavily armoured undead guarded it, while more regular, less amoured undead went in and out. Each time, the leading undead of their pack would hold up their hand to show a platinum ring to the door. With a little flash of light, the door opened by itself, allowing the pack of undead to exit before closing again. That must be an exit. Why else would it be such a hub of activity for more combat-focused undead in this relatively peaceful underground complex?

I found the exit, now to figure out how to get out with Pucci and Diego.