John Harken

The tenth floor had been winter cold, but the eleventh chilled the soul. A faint draining cool without the breath of wind. The air was dead still. Stale. Fitting the ancient city before them, long abandoned and enduring.

A ruin only by age, not deterioration.

Stone buildings and streets were built to defy time. Towering, spreading, twisting, and all-consuming across the land. It was a maze that extended the entire expanse of the floor’s horizon. One gate in sight offered entry to the myriad pathways of the city, immediately it began to split just beyond the gaping door. Silently waiting for someone daring to test the devouring infinity within.

A threat, an invitation that the Sixty were all too familiar with.

Harken stared down the forgotten city and thought it best this place had been destroyed rather than left to defy rot. Yet, he reluctantly understood why past scientists and magicians had wanted to study the cursed wonder. It called. Dared.

The priestly man received the deepest foreboding from the dressing upon the masonry. All along the walls and buildings stood wicked statues of beastly nightmares. Large and small, all shapes of deformity. Lurching and leering from everywhere one found their eyes drawn. Waiting in a frozen pre-pounce no matter the position they had been carved in. If they had been carved.

Gargoyles.

This empty city was populated with them. Infested, that was the word that came to Harken as he scanned in hopes of a vision. Only ill feelings from a hidden menace.

There was only pale light to guide them through the city. The sunstones above were concealed by permanent gray rainclouds. Not a drop of water had fallen since they had arrived. It had been a long wait as well, as Malachi had the same intuition for the ill-omened city.

Every party of the Sixty would be traversing the floor together. Everyone spread out to search for the golden gate and solve the puzzle as soon as possible. There was an unpleasant pressure pressing on everyone who looked at the dead city. As if the stones were shifting or preparing to devour any who entered.

Remaining long in the city seemed unwise.

Further, there was a sense that the eleventh floor meant something. The tenth floor since the first, ten floors of the old research facility. Harken couldn’t get a sense of the weight there, but didn’t deny the possibility. Roseline was quiet upon that query.

He did not like the look of this place, not at all.

As the parties trudged to the unwelcoming gate, Harken focused on his aura. Valerie’s upgraded armor had allowed him to exude the light of his conviction. Sunshine warmth bathed everyone around him. Energizing and protecting them. He embraced them with his faith.

“No matter the danger that awaits us, the Sixty shall prevail,” declared Harken before the haunted entrance. “Though the shadows may harbor maleficence, we shall bring blinding light. Our weapons and spells are edged with our Faith and Will. They shall cleave a path ever forward. We are destined! We are favored! This foul place cannot hinder us! Rise for the Sky!”

His light blazed with the cheer, flowing through everyone to erase the weight of dark foreboding. The Sixty cheered back and Malachi nodded his thanks. They were able to enter the city with lighter steps.

Gargoyles lined the top of the arc of the gate, staring down from either side. Or was it the same ones turned around? Harken wasn’t sure for a second before dismissing it. Trying to at least. The back of his neck itched painfully from the impression of stares. Leers that in truth came from all around them. There were more of the stone grotesques than expected. Their distant observation failed to see how integral they were to the architecture of the dead city.

Walls made of the tangled limbs, columns carved into living monsters, and even from odd angles one could find a hidden face grinning at you.

The city did not breathe, but it stared.

Silence returned to the Sixty as they spread out into the square beyond the gates. The buildings encroached from every direction, with narrow alleys and crooked streets leading off into the tombstone buildings. There did not appear to be a main thoroughfare through the city.

Parties were divided in the usual manner. The Coward’s Club would hold the courtyard while maintaining a compass pole and the rest would pick a route to map out. Paths were chosen by the party leaders, pens and paper confirmed at the ready. Also as usual Malachi’s careful weighing selected the most dangerous looking route. Not quite straight to the center, but off to the right where the gargoyles placements overwhelmed any good taste with their heavy numbers.

No one was surprised by the grating of stone as they passed into the narrow alley. Behind them, a wall of screaming imps ravaged each other in an image straight from hell. The compass confirmed their location hadn’t changed. The gargoyles had moved.

When nothing attacked, the party moved further in. Stone scraped stone. The living wall followed as they chose turns and made the necessary markings. Statues increased as some paths were blocked by new statuary barriers. Guiding inevitably to a courtyard where every path was blocked and every roof surrounding them was coated with gargoyles.

They could have escaped at any time. Broken through the blockades or raced across the rooftops. That wasn’t their intention, a waste of effort in the end. Harken’s party was eager to test the monsters of the new floor. Silence from both sides as the cat on Clarissa’s shoulder yowled with battlelust for all of them.

There was no slow crackle of movements, no warning shifts. That had already happened in the chase and trap. The gargoyles now snapped to the attack. They poured off the roofs and from the alleyways. All games over as living stone charged the party.

No one hesitated, old hands now with monsters.

Julia was their shield, flashing around with barriers and thunderous sword strikes. Dancing on the periphery, Malachi was an archon of elemental might. Reuben danced as a ghost. Placing his mace where it needed to be from nowhere to somewhere. Green arrows of blunt explosions scattered shots into the crowds and bigger shots sniped particular horrors. Clarissa laughed as her kitten tried to spit ice at the creatures. Violet Mana matched silver Mana in raining down destruction and bulking up their defenses. In the middle of it all Harken healed and buffed. Not allowing his party’s strength to waver for a moment.

The wave of stone broke on their shore.

Claws and teeth found no lasting purchase as the light of their might burned brightly in the heart of the courtyard. The gargoyles shattered one after the other, yet the mass never seemed to lessen. The numbers did not diminish. Though the living statues broke, they did not die. Nothing turned to dust.

Harken watched in cold horror as the broken remains reconfigured. New creatures rose from the rubble that surrounded them. Different heads, limbs, and bodies coming together as if carved that way. The gargoyles rose again, renewed and vigorous.

Allen MacIssac

As the horde of stone monstrosities chased them across the rooftops, the fire mage turned and struck out. A beam of heat, conceptual fire that cut the legs out from under the horde. Red stone oozed and splattered. Dismembered limbs tumbled down either side of the roof’s peak alongside flailing torsos. He turned and ran again, the sounds of shattering statuary echoing behind him from the alleyways below.

Phelian’s party had been running a mobile battle for the last hour, using the rooftops as a freeway. They had done little mapping during the chaos, but Allen wasn’t sweating it. Not even Malachi’s disappointment would change that. The gargoyles of the dead city were relentless.

Knocked apart and then back up again far too quickly. Melting them was too time consuming to counter that dismay. They had to run. No time to bear down with enough heat.

Colored auras and explosions echoed across the empty metropolis. Signs that the same battles were repeating all across the city. Some madmen were hunkering down while fighting too. They risked being swarmed and overwhelmed in his eyes. He already knew that nightmares of this day would follow him into the nights to come. An avalanche of living stone swarming him into darkness.

“What’s the plan here!?” called Allen, not liking the tremble in his ears. The stone monsters were getting to him, far too resistant to most of his attack options. “Is there an update to this “run like hell” plan?”

The sound of heavy breathing and counterattacks filled the silence for a heavy pause. Gargoyles shrieking their own suggestions in wordless bloodlust.

“Seriously! We’ve passed that same church... uh thing, four or five times! We’re literally running in circles.”

The arisen warrior from the head of the pack turned to Allen with an “aw shucks” look. “Come on, Allen. You know plans aren’t exactly my style. I was kinda hoping you or someone else would come up with something. Or, at least something would catch my eye before long.”

The fire mage snarled and started thinking. His eyes scanned the cityscape for inspiration for the next step. Mana enhanced or not, they needed a break. Eventually, exhaustion would catch up to them.

“Alright, screw this!” he declared to the party. “Let’s break for the wall and see if we can take a breather outside the city. Figure out a strategy before coming back in.”

Phelian was thoughtful. “Any objections?” There were none, fatigue was beginning to hint in everyone’s eyes. “Then, a tactical retreat it is. At this next alley jump, duck right across the street instead. I’ll do something flashy and then it’s a straight shoot for the wall.”

White flames flared around their leader as everyone got ready for the sharp maneuver. The fire mage launched the beam again, maintaining it long enough to do three passes before charging for the jump point. He skidded to a stop and then leaped with a jet of flame to speed him on his way. Landing before everyone else in a roaring impact that tossed aside the few gargoyles camped out there.

In the cleared space, the party leaped over another street to a row of housing that was angled better towards the wall. Behind them, Phelian gave a battle cry and flashed into the chasing horde. White fire spread through the monsters and all over the buildings. Mighty slashes dug into all stone alike.

A second later Phelian landed ahead of them on burning angel wings, picking up their sprint without tripping. The patter of stone on stone steps was distant for now. Loudly quiet without it.

They ran for the wall.

New gargoyles caught their movement and scrambled over rooftops towards them. This part of the city hadn’t been visited before it seemed, a new horde built behind them as the party defended their forward momentum.

There were a few more leaps needed to close on the wall, but soon their mad dash was within closing distance. Allen’s mind was already calculating the trajectories for getting to the battlements and over when something monstrous stood up. Cobble stones scattered through the sky and buildings near the wall collapsed.

A gargoyle over thirty feet tall had erupted between them and the wall. It grinned down at them, wings stretching, and tore a halberd free from the ground at its feet. They had seconds to react as the halberd swung up to come down like a meteor. Allen and Phelian charged as the rest of the party desperately leaped to the next row.

The stone weapon shattered the buildings on impact. Everything collapsed inwards under their feet, a hungry maw of crumbling stone formed around the halberd. The fire mage took into the air beside the arisen warrior. White flames rocketed straight for the giant gargoyle while the red ones aimed for the weapon.

Allen launched a lance of flame at the gargoyle’s eye as a distraction and then lasered the halberd in three places. Diagonal across the blade, two places along the handle. Before the giant could react, Phelian crashed into the chest and slammed the monster into the wall behind. Great cracks ran from the crater dug into the living statue. The shattered weapon dropped to the ground while the opposite arm crumbled off.

They darted back to the party on their flames and struck out to hit the wall further down. Only, another giant climbed free of the cobblestone street. An ax crashed through the closest buildings to make an arena. This one held back, moving to block them rather than attacking outright.

The party tried again, but a third appeared bearing a spear. Phelian crashed into it, leading a full charge of the party. Avoiding a fight was proven impossible. They needed to break through before their chasers caught up. Allen targeted the weapon like before, Kai exploded out a knee, and Vivian’s rage summoned a hammer to shatter an ankle. Analia and Amiyah covered their backfield as everyone leaped over the gargoyle to reach the battlements.

A peek over the top shot cold straight through him. The walkway was completely filled to the brim with crouched monstrosities. It was overrun, they were trapped.

“Abort!” roared Allen as his flames surged violently. “The wall is covered in them! We can’t get out this way.”

To prove him right, gargoyles took flight from the top of the wall. More giants broke free from the ground and buildings. All around the city, monstrosities began to rise up. Dark shapes in the air and the wall showed that every exit was being covered.

The dead city’s guards wouldn’t let them leave.

Nicole Jorgenson

She laughed with her thunder. In flashes of green-gray light, stone shattered and the unnaturally animated howled at their destruction. Warner’s party fought with ferocious delight through street after street. Battlefury having long turned into life-confirming battlelust. They all laughed and grinned.

There was no destination, no aim but destruction of the enemy. Gargoyles came and the new stone shards added another layer to the rubble. No one was flagging, exhaustion felt miles away for Jorgenson. She simply wanted to exist in this storm of violence. Her terrible winds ripped up living statues and smashed them into others.

A righteous act of destruction.

“I Am The Storm’s Rage,

All Fury Blows Within Me,

Unleash, Release, Unfurl,

Rampage Of The Winds!”

Light flared upwards from her and split into six angry streams of wind. In moments, towering tornadoes formed. Natural wrath hurling around, spinning out doom for the horde of stone that encroached upon their safety. Gargoyles shattered against walls, against each other, and were thrown beyond sight.

It raged outwards to scour clean all opposition from the city crossroad. A moment to breathe, a second to decide the next battlefield. Bellowing with glory and glee, Warner led them completely to the next grounds to crush stone. They raced after the orange sun, destroying survivors and newcomers. In a city square, the party regrouped. Turned outwards for the next wave of hostility.

Gargoyles fell from the skies and charged from every opening. Jorgeonson greeted them with furious winds. Delaying one side of the courtyard, smashing a few dozen while she was at it. On the other side, the monsters crashed into waiting attacks backed by ferocious joy.

Orange power welcomed them, explosions of high-pressure water appearing at every impact of Warner’s fist. He grinned beautifully in the middle of his element. Guarding two sides, Elena and Zachariah towered over them all. A trick of perspective made real, they swelled to half again their height and swung weapons of mighty proportions. No gargoyle could bypass them, many were turned into gravel. Within the circle of protectors, Brice Reid and Conor Murphy supported every effort. One buffed and healed while the other eliminated threatening statutes of horror with great bangs of force.

All embraced the battle and hungered for more. Unrelenting against their foes.

Even when the ground rumbled and crumbled, the party didn’t flinch. They simply adjusted to safer terrain as giants ripped themselves free of the streets and square.

Orders were almost unnecessary as they adjusted for the expected strategies to play themselves out. The four-sided protection became three as their leader rocketed into one of the huge gargoyles. Barely on its feet, the orange comet took it down to the ground again. Power shots from Brice shattered one limb by limb. Jorgeonson stared down her target and trapped the gargoyle with her green-gray fury. Its hollow screams were barely audible over the wind’s howl.

The giants fell just like the rest. Rubble that slowly pulled itself together, but defeated no less for all their inevitable return.

Jorgenson grinned. We’ll just knock ‘em apart again. No doubt about that!

Across the uneven, graveled square the party departed swiftly to the next battleground. One street opened into a great ringing park with a dome of white stone in the center. She noticed the faint sparkle of golden writing etched across the pale surface. Noted it, but her mind was already whirling on the fight about to begin.

A battle that never began.

The gargoyles pulled themselves together, but the horde never came. A few skulked the edges of the park, but never passed some invisible line that held them at bay. Cooling off as nothing charged, Jorgenson was regretful as the ignored exhaustion finally rushed in. They had stood still and it had found them.

Still, everyone waited in position as muscles screamed, eyes threatened to close, and continuing to stand felt like a herculean effort. The party persisted, it could be a trap or trick.

Nothing appeared and no impish gargoyles snuck upon them from either direction.

“Ok, maybe this is a safe spot,” laughed Warner wearily. “Let’s move deeper in and radio the others.”

There were no arguments, only tired affirmatives as they shuffled closer to the dome. Stone paths cross through manicured grass and trees planted just short of rows. There was a manner of something semi-artificial to the placement of the plant life. As if to mirror nature, but only within the strict confines of protocols. No less pleasant than any park she had been in while simply being obvious to anyone who looked.

On a small rise, the party made a temporary camp. All sitting around a centered tree so that every angle was covered by a passive watch on top of an active watchman. Warner walked in a circle as the first on watch during the break.

Pulling out a speaking stone, the pugilist gave a report. “This is Warner. Me and the guys found a safe spot in the city. Or at least the gargoyles ain’t daring to cross into the park surrounding a big old white dome. We’re taking a break now, but we’ll soon go about to check for any new threats. For now, if you need a break use the park around the dome. My coordinates are…” He looked at the compass to read out the data. “Over.”

A pause then, “This is Rodrick. I read and have noted. I’ll relay as needed. A note to everyone that the pole position has been moved out of the entry yard. Gargoyles amassed on us too and it couldn’t be maintained. We’re just outside the gate. Nothing is leaving the city so outside the wall is safe too. Over.”

“Noted. Thanks for relaying. We’ll update after exploring. Over.”

“Good Luck. Over.”