1.57 H

A scarred warrior member of the Horns of Hammerad.

aka the armored warrior

“What? Oh, no, I couldn’t do that. I’m feeling a lot better. And you guys paid me so well—a big breakfast is the least I could do. You’re, uh, heading into the ruins today, aren’t you?”

“Indeed we are. We and four other adventuring teams are going in.”

“Wasn’t it six teams total?”

“The last adventuring Captain, ah, pulled out at the last moment.”

“Hendric. Coward.”

“Cheer up, grumpy. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“So—should I expect you guys to come back tomorrow? Or tonight…? How long is this, uh, dungeon exploration going to take?”

“We’re not sure. I wouldn’t count on our return, but it could happen.”

“We have enough supplies for at least four days. I doubt we’ll be down there that long unless we need to do excavation, though.”

“Those ruins could be deep, though. No telling how far down they go.”

“We’re not clearing out every room. As soon as we strike a treasury or find enough to justify the costs, we’ll leave.”

“Hah! Tell that to the other teams. Gregor is saying his team won’t quit until they reach the bottom floor. A big change from what he was saying earlier.”

“Well, if we’re going in, we might as well go all in.”

“Speaking of which…Gerial, is it time?”

“I suppose we should be going. The meeting is about an hour’s time away, and we don’t want to be late. Is everyone finished?”

“Good luck. Don’t get, uh, killed by a Dragon or anything.”

“There are no Dragons on this side of the world, miss. Probably anywhere.”

“Um. There are. I’ve seen one.”

“Hello? Hello! I’m sorry I’m late!”

“I’m not late, am I? I forgot we were supposed to meet here.”

“Olesm?”

“What are you—you’re going on the expedition too? But you’re not an adventurer!”

“Oh, Erin. I didn’t—well of course you’d be here. This is your inn—yes, I am going on the expedition! I’m hoping to raise my level. I was so inspired by you that I decided it was time to break out of my shell, so to speak.”

“But can you defend yourself? I mean, I don’t want to be rude but…”

“I may not be a good fighter, but my Skills should help quite a bit. Believe me, I will come back better than ever. And perhaps then I’ll win a game against you.”

“But it’s chess. That’s not the same as—as fighting. And wait a second, Selys said you work for the city. Aren’t you supposed to, like, be there?”

“Technically, yes. But they won’t miss me for a few days. The Watch is supposed to work with me, and I advise the Council, but they meet once a month if that. They don’t need me here. The army has a dozen people who could take my post over in a second. And besides. I’ve stayed the same level for far too long, hiding in the city rather than joining the army or adventuring myself. Today, I’m going to change that.”

“Enough talk.”

“We have to go. Follow us, but don’t lag behind.”

“Oh, of course. My apologies.”

“I’ll be happy to serve you if you guys come back tonight, no matter how late. Just knock, okay? I’ve got guests coming anyways.”

“Oh? Who?”

“We’re going.”

“Greetings, adventurers. Olesm.”

“Oh? Pawn! Are you going to play chess at Miss Erin’s?”

“Yes. We do not have any duties, so we go to play.”

“Oh? I thought you always worked in the morning. Is something wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. We have no tasks because we are waiting.”

“Waiting? Waiting for what?”

“We wait for the Queen.”

“The Queen? Is she…is she doing something?”

“Yes. She is close to completing her task.”

“I heard about that. She didn’t talk to anyone and sent that new Prognugator out. Ksmvr, right? What was she doing that was so important.”

“We do not know. But it will be tomorrow.”

“What will be tomorrow?”

“It will be. Good luck on your mission, Olesm.”

“Oh, um, bye—”

“Dead gods, I saw it from far away, but up close, this is something else entirely.”

“The Ruins of Albez seem tiny compared to this one. Well, they’re more spread out, but still.”

“Look at that.”

“More adventurers? I thought we were the only ones entering. If they’re trying to steal a march on us—”

“They’re not adventurers. That’s the local Watch.”

“The Watch? Why are they out here?”

“There are several Bronze-rank adventuring teams on permanent guard duty as well as several members of the Watch. Seems like this place disgorges monsters every few days. Nothing more dangerous than a mob of zombies or the local wildlife, but they’re being cautious.”

“Good thing we’re going in today. Otherwise, the city’d probably put up a request to clear out this place in a month or two.”

“It still might come to that. Unless they destroy this damn place, something’s going to make its nest here.”

“True.”

“There’s Yvlon. Move up.”

“Calruz. Gerial. I’m glad your team is here on time. Everyone else has already assembled. Shall we begin?”

“Why waste time waiting?”

“Captains, I am pleased to see you all here. May I inquire if you are all ready?”

“The Horns of Hammerad are all here.”

“The Flawless Flights are ready to go.”

“Kyrial’s Vanguard are armed and ready to fight!”

“We of the Circle of Reneë have prepared our spells.”

“And the Silver Spears are assembled.”

“I’m pleased to see everyone is present. But I expected nothing less of the best adventurers on this side of the continent! We are here today to make history by entering the Ruins of Liscor. We don’t know exactly what is down there, but we do know something dangerous lurks below. And where there is danger, there is treasure and fame to be found.”

“Some of us may perish on this expedition. Five Families willing, it will be few or none. But I swear that each of you will receive a portion of the reward, and your families and loved ones will not be left penniless should you fall. That is the pledge I make towards each of my Silver Spears, and I offer the same to you today.”

“But enough dire thoughts. We are about to head in. Steel yourselves. Trust in each other. We know what must be done. Calruz, your Horns of Hammerad and Gregor, your Kyrial’s Vanguard have been chosen to lead the expedition. Would you do the honors?”

“Kyrial’s Vanguard—form up!”

“To me, Horns of Hammerad.”

“Who’s the Drake? I thought we agreed not to hire anyone else, Yvlon.”

“He’s a [Tactician], not a [Warrior], Gregor. A Level 24. He came to us yesterday. I thought you’d agree we could definitely use him.”

“Hmph. Very well. Just so long as he doesn’t start giving orders to the rest of us.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that. I’m just here to help.”

“Fine.”

“Are you done?”

“I’m done. Shall we?”

“Yes. Let us begin.”

“You know, I would have expected something to happen by now.”

“Oh really? You haven’t explored many dungeons, then.”

“This is my first one, actually.”

“Oh? Don’t freeze up and you’ll be fine. Besides, once this is done, you can tell all your friends about it. I’m sure Erin would be very impressed. Everyone loves experienced…adventurers. Especially ones who have big…swords. And explored a lot of dungeons, of course.”

“These rooms—are quite odd, aren’t they?”

“Broken chairs, metal—I can’t tell. It’s been too long, and everything is dust now. This was once some kind of sanctuary, perhaps? A massive one.”

“It’s big. But I could see that. Strange, though—all these rooms must be living quarters, kitchens, storage rooms, and so on. This is practically a city within this one building. How come no one knew of this before?”

“It must be ancient. Far older than Liscor. I can’t imagine how they built all of this—and out of stone! They must have had hundreds, thousands of workers or some kind of powerful magic.”

“The design of the gates certainly suggests that. Of course, you need a roof or some good magic when the rainy season comes. I suppose it could have been built by my people.”

“So—I’m with your group. The, ah, Horns of Hammerad? I’m afraid I don’t know much about it. Liscor didn’t get many high-profile adventurers before this.”

“High profile? Hear that, Gerial? I wish we were that famous.”

“But you’re Silver-rank adventurers. I just assumed—”

“Ceria is just teasing you Mister, ah, Olesm. We are quite well known locally. It’s just that we’re hardly the only Silver-rank teams in the north. And if you count the coastal cities—well, there are a number of Gold-rank teams and adventurers up there, and we can hardly compare.”

“Well, you seem quite competent to me. What does your group do? Aside from exploring ruins, that is.”

“We specialize in monster slaying. If a troublesome group of monsters is infesting a region, we’re usually one of the first groups who answer the call. The Horns of Hammerad are a close-combat group. We close in and smash the enemy while our mages provide backup. Gregor’s Pride is the same.”

“Oh, I see, I see. And the Silver Spears?”

“Good at defense, coordination, strategy; a solid team. The Flawless Flights on the other hand do a lot of scouting work and hunting troublesome monsters that hide.”

“And the—the Circle? They were all [Mages]. Is that usual?”

“Not usual, but not unusual either. They take on almost all requests. They’ve got a bad reputation, though.”

“Because they run away quite often.”

“If they’re out of mana, there’s not much they can do. So yes, often Menes’ team will abandon a mission if something makes them use up all their potions or if the enemy is more numerous or stronger than they anticipated.”

“Oh. I see.”

“They do good work most of the time, though.”

“But they do have their own style. They prioritize all contracts with anything magic related. It’s their specialty, just like how Cervial has a lot of archers in his group and Yvlon’s team wears silver armor.”

“Do the Horns of Hammerad have a, um, noticeable feature?”

“…Not so much a feature as a code. We don’t break our promises. We don’t retreat, and if we have to abandon a job, we repay all we took in advance.”

“‘Death before dishonor.’”

“Really?”

“It’s what we live by. Our leader is Calruz. And you know what Minotaurs are like.”

“Oh. Of course.”

“Look at that. You can tell this place is old because of the architecture. I’ve never seen any designs like it. It must be a previous era’s style.”

“True. What do you make of it, Olesm? Was this place built by your people?”

“It certainly seems like it. How else would you explain it being so close to Liscor?”

“And if it was, would they have much treasure?”

“Oh, most definitely. We love collecting things. We are descended from Dragons after all. If this place was at all important, I’d expect some sort of vault.”

“Contact.”

“One of our scouts found a nest of Shield Spiders. The damn things must be infesting this place already.”

“Shut it. How big’s the nest?”

“Not big. Around eight adults and a few dozen of the bigger children that we could see. Perhaps there’s more in another room, but they’ve only webbed up one so far.”

“You’re the local expert. Any advice?”

“Shield Spiders are weak against fire. Two mages with armed warriors holding shields should be able to burn the nest if they know the [Fireball] spell or equivalents.”

“My team can do the fighting. Menes, if you want to send some of your mages…?”

“Done.”

“I don’t like these unexcavated areas. Something could tunnel their way around and ambush us.”

“We don’t have time to block everything off. How about this? We’ll set wards that will go off if something crosses them.”

“That sounds good. Do it.”

“Zombies. At least thirty of them up ahead. Probably more. They’re coming from below.”

“My team will take the front—”

“Let my archers soften them up first. We can take down at least half in this open area. Save you the energy.”

“Good. Try not to use magic just yet if we can help it. Form up!”

“Over here.”

“I hear them.”

“Got one.”

“Hit one in the leg.”

“Chest shot. Didn’t even slow him.”

“Back!”

“Anyone hurt? Any injuries?”

“Hm. Look at this, Yvlon.”

“[Cleansing Wind].”

“Thank you. What am I supposed to see, Cervial?”

“This. They’re mostly Human, these zombies. And freshly dead. If they weren’t, we’d be fighting skeletons. Average zombies rot to bone in a year or less. Even sealed—they’d be all dried out, not actively rotting.”

“More of the adventurers who first came in?”

“Very likely. But see behind them—?”

“Drakes. Badly rotted, too. But why would their armor look that old…?”

“That sounds like a failing preservation spell to me. Something is keeping them from rotting. Zombies are a bit tougher than skeletons so someone wanted their flesh intact…but didn’t spell the gear. That’s why there’s a mismatch. How long does it take for good armor to get to that state? They must be ancient.”

“Or something is restoring their flesh. Wonderful. Do you think the main threat will be the undead, then?”

“They don’t play nice with other monsters. That would be my best bet.”

“Still, that was quite a group. Not exactly a small welcoming committee, was it?”

“For our first real encounter in here? I’d say it was light enough.”

“Zombies can sense the living. It’s only natural they’d feel so many of us and come running.”

“Still. That was a bit too convenient and quick for my liking. Normally, I’d expect them to be spread out as they sense us and follow each other, not rush all at once like that.”

“Could be coincidence.”

“Perhaps not.”

“Go wary.”

“That was so—so impressive! There were so many, but you took care of them like—like—”

“I had nothing to do with it. Good old fashioned metal did the trick here. Which is a good thing. If we had to start casting over a few undead, we’d be in trouble.”

“Ceria!”

“Not a bad start, is it? We work well together.”

“Still, that was a lot of undead. Should we expect more up ahead?”

“More than likely. We were debating using your [Illumination] spell now, Ceria. What do you think?”

“I can’t use the lights to illuminate where I haven’t been. I could use it to light the way back but—I think I should wait. It’s not like we’re so far in that it’s hard to find our way back, and when I do cast it, it should be at a place we mean to hold for a longer time.”

“When we make camp, then. We’ll find a spot. But we’re hours from needing rest, so we’ll hold off.”

“Are we moving forwards now?”

“Almost. The scouts are saying this corridor begins to slope downwards. This is the place that leads to the second floor.”

“That’s where all the other teams disappeared.”

“Exactly. We’re going in ready for anything.”

“I’m sticking in the middle while Cervial’s team covers the rear. Will you walk with me, Ceria?”

“I’d be delighted to. Olesm?”

“Oh, I’d be honored. And they’re moving. Should we—?”

“I’m glad you aren’t angry at me.”

“Angry? Why would I be?”

“I feel like I had a lot to do with the—incident involving Ryoka earlier. I truly didn’t mean to cause that much trouble.”

“That was mostly her fault.”

“Even so. My aunt had mentioned how much she wanted to meet this Runner, and I couldn’t fathom why. I wanted to test her, but not push her over the edge.”

“That girl is all edge. I don’t understand why Magnolia—well, there are certain things that strike me about her. But why the lady of Reinhart would spend so much effort on her is beyond me.”

“Beyond me as well, I’m afraid. My aunt does not confide in anyone, and she has—eclectic interests. But I do hope Ryoka doesn’t do anything rash. Once you fall into my aunt’s machinations, it is hard to break free.”

“You don’t want to capture Ryoka to gain favor with her?”

“Let’s say I admire her independence, if not her self-control. Besides, it’s bad if Aunt Magnolia gets everything she wants. Hold up, what’s this?”

“Strange. What kind of stone places are these? It looks like you’d put something on them, but for what? Alchemy? Look, there’s even a divot where you’d kneel, here…to do what?”

“I’ve seen the like in pictures of Drath. Maybe some kind of ultra-formal area? Wait…you’d be facing this wall. And there was something here. See? A statue?”

“So this was maybe some kind of memorial?”

“No. This is—different from above. What are those open places for? They look—big. Long enough to accommodate a body.”

“A place to sleep? They look—far too uncomfortable even if you filled them with blankets. They’re closer to legends from my family of Vampyres.”

“What?”

“Oh, some long-dead monster. A children’s story. House Byres has lots of old tales like that. I should tell you the one about the Silver Dragon. But no one’s sleeping in these uncomfortable boxes. Nor do I see anyone straining their back using them as storage devices. Any other ideas, Ceria?”

“I know. This is a place to put dead bodies to be cleansed before they’re buried. This isn’t a memorial. It’s a crypt.”

“A crypt or a tomb is good because there’s probably treasure buried with the dead. But it usually means traps, ancient curses and hexes on the lids of tombs, and so on. Not to mention the undead.”

“It’s a good sign, though. We know there’s something valuable here. Any place with this much architecture had to be important.”

“Could be powerful artifacts up ahead. Let’s keep moving.”

“This is a good place to fall back to, though. See—there’s only two ways in, and we can use that long corridor as a killing zone with our bows if we need to.”

“If we can’t find anywhere better, we’ll camp here. But for now—let’s continue.”

“What’s this? A split in the road? Which way did the scouts go?”

“No markings on the walls. Why didn’t they double back and warn us?”

“That is odd. Should we send a spell to contact them? Menes, you said your group used a short-distance communication spell, right?”

“I will talk with them. One moment—hold on, what’s this?”

“It’s quite large—a bag?”

“Careful, Menes. It could be a trap.”

“Hm. [Detect Magic]. Nothing.”

“Gold? Gold?”

“It’s not money obviously. But what is it? It looks—like part of something else. A broken piece of gold from a wall or—or statue or something.”

“Is there more inside?”

“More gold! And jewels! Gods, it’s a small fortune!”

“This is strange.”

“What is?”

“Look at the sides. Stone. It was attached to something. A wall perhaps, or some kind of art?”

“You’re saying this is from some other part of the building. Looted by an adventurer…?”

“Must be. And these other…yes, these are all bags full of loot! Abandoned. Why?”

“Something got them. Or—scared them enough that they dropped everything and ran.”

“But no one ever made it down to the second floor and returned.”

“Those scouts. They never reported the split in the tunnel. And they would have come back. Where did they go?”

“My [Dangersense]—”

“Ambush!”