《Tales of The Boundless》
God of Pain
Lema didn¡¯t mind the trickle of blood flowing from the back of her hand, in fact she pushedthe hand even harder into the jagged floor. It didn¡¯t matter; she could always visit the Danaralins later to have it healed. They¡¯d do it, even though they wouldn¡¯t approve. She was fine with that, and fine with the pain if that¡¯s what it took to keep Kellin alive to her.
Her red-rimmed eyes sought the altar through dark hair that was starting to mat, unkempt since the funeral. They didn¡¯t use gastroliths here. Instead, the braziers burned through enchantment so they could be continuously fed the bundles of Stingroot provided by the dutiful attendants. The dance of red across the altar made Hannick¡¯s already twisted face dance.
Stinging Eyes ¡ª Environmental
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Stringroot smoke is hurting your eyes.
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Labored Breathing ¡ª Environmental
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Stringroot smoke is burning your lungs.
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The notifications had long since faded into the background, moved to the periphery of her thoughts by familiarity, but the pain wouldn¡¯t be similarly ignored. That was good. The physical pain was something she could hold onto when emotional pain threatened to sweep her away. She tracked the Bleeding debuff, unsure when it would be enough, when she¡¯d get to¡ªUnauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
Warmth washed over her, the warmth of the deep caves where she and Kellin had hunted together, hidden from each other, hungered for each other. And then he was there, and the warmth of the caves blossomed into the actuality of them. His hands were as warm and sturdy as they¡¯d ever been when he lifted her to her feet, and she shed her sorrow like an old blanket. He fussed over her hand, and her hair, and her puffy eyes, and then they talked and walked for what seemed like an eternity. There were so many memories to revisit, after all.
And then the moment was gone.
It was part of the remembering that she wouldn¡¯t¡ªcouldn¡¯t¡ªprepare, and so each loss was as sharp as the first, when Eren had come to her with frenzied eyes, interrupting her beadwork to report that the caves had collapsed and swallowed her husband.
Lema collapsed herself, and howled, unable to care when the purposefully sharp protuberances opened her forehead and cheek. From the floor Hannick¡¯s face could have been laughing, but she couldn¡¯t help but feed him her blood, her pain, and her sorrow, magnified by the clouds of Stingroot and the serrated teeth of the floor. All welcome offerings to the God of Pain.
Later, helped to the temple¡¯s door by one of Hannick¡¯s acolytes, Lema stood listless, having sobbed through every tear she had. Passing dwarves turned their gazes away, hurrying down the broad tunnel of the Holy District toward more savory vistas. No one wanted to acknowledge the role played by pain in their lives, nor by the domains of the other ¡°undesirable¡± gods whose temples littered that part of the gallery. Lema didn¡¯t care. They¡¯d find their way to Hannick in their own time.
Noble Ties, Part 1
Mother must be letting things slip.
The crust on his majordomo¡¯s boot didn¡¯t warrant a second look and was someone else¡¯s to deal with, regardless, but it was irksome. How would it look were they receiving guests?
I shall have to bring it up to her later, Kertum decided. Maybe when next she tries to commit me to one of these parties, just to needle her.
He leaned back against the revelweave couch as the palanquin lifted into the air. That was absurd as well! Even consigned as he had been to the family estate in Bertelim, Kertum knew revelweave was out. The queen was upholstering in the somber tones of shadesilk now, harvested from the Noctworms of her latest dungeon. What was his mother doing at court all day if not keeping tabs on the current trends?
Probably inveigling her way into the good graces of the Countess Evenglow. How else would he have found himself powdered, plucked, and forced into the palanquin, directed to make efforts at Dela, the Evenglow¡¯s heiress?
Though he hated the parties, perhaps because he hated the parties, Kertum was united with his mother in securing an offer quickly. If not Dela, his mother would only find another, and another, forcing him into an endless parade of suitors. Additionally, after Dela each failed approach would lower his eligibility in the eyes of the court, and thus the status he could marry into. He didn¡¯t dare consider the prospect of actually marrying down. Lower ranked nobles, barrenborn, and even outlanders were fine for a quick release, and with a prophylactic spright contracted, Mother couldn¡¯t complain about it, but for producing offspring his duty was to marry up, exalting the Whispercrest name.
I¡¯m sure it won¡¯t come to that, he comforted himself. Not with Euoga¡¯s contract. Even the queen doesn¡¯t have a steady source of Marked Water. If not the Evenglows, then at least the Turnstones or the Loftingsails. One of them would see the benefit, even if it meant marrying down.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
He pushed the thought away and purposefully unclenched his jaw. Even with Euoga he couldn¡¯t afford to let bad habits add ugly muscle and square his jaw. Restructors¡¯ time was precious, and as much as he hated to be reminded, his family couldn¡¯t afford it.
What I would do if I could afford it, he thought, after the palanquin jolted. Replace Bryant, that¡¯s for sure! First the mud and now this? Who has he been hiring as bearers?
Knowing he shouldn¡¯t, that it was beneath him, he raised his hand to pull aside the curtain and tell the man off.
Had he been sitting back he might¡¯ve resisted, but when the palanquin pitched forward and to the side, he went with it, tumbling through the embroidered ferventweave curtain and out into the street.
Common marble? Where have they taken me? Was his first thought, completed even as his gaze found the collapsed bearer, sprawled similarly on the street.
The other bearers rushed to help Kertum up, pulling him to his feet with such an crass show of strength that Kertum felt pity for them. Imagine having to rely on the strength of your arms for your worth! What his sister saw in the broad brutes was beyond him. As well be a pack mule! At least the women among the elf and human barrenborn avoided vulgar musculature.
Kertum thought all of this in a daze as the bearers lifted him to his feet, but by the time he had regained them, he also had a clear view of the blood pooling around the fallen man,
¡°Wha-¡±
¡°An assassination attempt!¡± One of the men snapped. ¡°We have to get you off the street.¡± The servant threw a cloak over Kertum¡¯s head even as he and the others hustled him off the street. Unable to see more than his feet, Kertum struggled to push the cloak aside, only to have the man pull it low over his face again.
¡°Best you remain hidden, your lordship. There could be others nearby.¡±
Exertion made the air under the hood hot, and not being able to see made Kertum¡¯s terror even worse, but the servants kept him going and on his feet, moving him faster than he¡¯d ever run himself over flagstones of marble, cobblestone, gravel, and then mud. For once Kertum didn¡¯t mind his shoes getting dirty. He was too frightened, too out of breath.
It wasn¡¯t until the hood was finally ripped from his head that he thought to wonder where they were going.
Noble Ties, Part 2
¡°What¡¯s the meaning of this?¡± He asked. Surely there was a guardhouse nearer by that could have seen me safe. Why are we here in this¡ He looked around at the firelit room. Hovel¡ He was standing on dirt, of all things. Dirt! And the stench was unbearable. Sweat and¡ well, wasn¡¯t that enough?
One of the bearers pushed him forward, toward a chair in the center of the room, but Kertum wasn¡¯t about to sit on the rough wood. Is that blood? He thought, before he was grabbed again, spun around, and punched in the gut.
Kertum new little of pain, and the blow doubled him over, forcing him to sit. Through his watering eyes he saw two more people enter the room, giving him a quick look at a long, muddy alleyway. The first man was foreign to Kertum. An elf, like him, and clearly barrenborn. No noble would allow himself to become so obscenely sinewy, even if not bulky. The second man stepped out from behind the sinewy man, and Kertum was surprised to find himself staring down his own majordomo.
¡°Bryant, was is the meaning of this?! Mother will¡ª¡±
The servant stepped forward and set Kertum¡¯s ears ringing with a slap to the face, again filling his eyes with tears.
¡°Gods, you don¡¯t know how long I¡¯ve wanted to do that? And your mother can get split by an ogre.¡±
Startled into silence by the sudden violence, Kertum watched the man warily.
¡°Shame,¡± the servant said. ¡°I was hoping you¡¯d take more convincing to shut up. Looks like he¡¯s ready to listen, Leront.¡±
The majordomo made way for the sinewy man to take his place, and then he and the three bearers left. The man slunk nearer to Kertum. He was dressed in the clothes of a laborer, but Kertum was surprised to find the man spoke with a noble accent.
¡°Now, young lord, I¡¯m sure you know why you¡¯re here. You¡¯ve got something precious we were hoping you could show to us.¡± In spite of the accent, Kertum was suddenly more afraid of the man than he¡¯d been of Bryant. He did have something valuable: more valuable than the whole of the Whispercrests¡¯ land holdings. But it was also their most closely held secret, only just entrusted to Kertum a few days prior in a ceremony that was also secret, attended only by his parents, a priest, and his childhood companion, Raf. After the ceremony Raf had finally been allowed to return to his own family¡¯s estate for the first time since his earliest years, having finally fulfilled the bargain struck when he¡¯d been discovered to be barrenborn. Faced with losing their lands and titles, the Weltersmiths had borrowed from Kertum¡¯s parents to secure a mana seed for Raf, on the condition that he would stay the Whispercrests¡¯ ward until he came of age, using the aspected mana provided by the seed to feed a daemon contract.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Now Kertum held that contract, the Whispercrests¡¯ main bargaining chip for securing an advantageous marriage, and if he lost it there would be nothing. The money to lend the Weltersmiths for the mana seed and to purchase the daemon contract had itself been borrowed. Without a marriage, losing the daemon would spell the Whispercrests doom. They might not lose their noble status immediately, but would be unable to purchase another mana seed if Kertum or his sister¡¯s children were barrenborn, meeting the same fate the Weltersmiths had borrowed from them to avoid. Once that chain was broken there would be no way back into the queen¡¯s court. Even if Kertum¡¯s grandchildren were seedborn, they would live as craftsmen or priests, bearing the shame of a bloodline that didn¡¯t breed true.
¡°I¡ can¡¯t,¡± Kertum said. His breaths were coming heavy and fast. ¡°Please don¡¯t hurt me!¡±
The sinewy man looked sympathetic. ¡°I empathize, young lord. It¡¯s a high price to pay, but we need to make sure these things end up in the right hands.¡±
¡°Who hired you? Who¡ª¡±
The man drove his finger into Kertum¡¯s left eye without warning, striking before the younger elf could blink. There was a moment of shock before the pain started, and Kertum¡¯s screams shook the hovel. Minutes later he was still screaming, but no one had come to save him. Panting and sobbing, he hung his head.
The sinewy man lifted Kertum¡¯s chin and looked at his handiwork.
¡°The Danaralin won¡¯t be fixing that easy,¡± he said, as though discussing a ripped seam, and let Kertum¡¯s head drop again. ¡°Now, summon the daemon and let¡¯s get this over with.¡±
It took Kertum time to steady his voice enough to chant the summons he¡¯d only learned a few days past. Raf had only summoned Euoga once during their entire childhood, trying to save a laborer that had fallen into the spring churn of the Xithk.
Kertum¡¯s father had charged Bryant with whipping the poor boy, one lash for each Mana Point spent, Mana Points that Kertum¡¯s father had made clear weren¡¯t Raf¡¯s to spend.
Blood trickled into his mouth as he spoke, but Kertum finished the chant regardless. He needed to get free. Maybe his eye could be saved if he got to the healers soon. If it had to be regrown...
Euoga, bearing ¡®loft the breeze,
Gentle, calm, and ever true.
Answer our most fervent pleas,
And grant us now to honor you.
Euoga appeared moments later, but Kertum couldn¡¯t even raise his head to look at her.
Would you like to transfer the contract of the Child Daemon of Water and Air, Euoga to ????
¡°Oh no, young lord. Not to me.¡± The sinewy man said, then stepped toward one wooden wall of the hovel and gave a knock. A hidden door appeared, bathing Kertum in light and warmth, and the scent of Rithum Buds overwhelmed the smell of sweat and blood for a moment. In spite of himself, Kertum looked up.
Queen Gliteau didn¡¯t have the same concerns as Kertum about dirtying her footwear, and for a second Kertum¡¯s heart leapt. She had come to save him!
The thought only lasted for a second though, and Kertum soon realized what awaited him. He wouldn¡¯t be making Dela¡¯s party, or any party. Vaguely he hoped they wouldn¡¯t discover his body in the lower Gremmon, as they had so many others. He couldn¡¯t bear the thought of them finding him floating in the filth.
Book 3 Prologue, Part 1
The smooth stone was cool on her cheek, and she savored the feeling, even with her neck bent at such an awkward angle. Could a person love a wall? Irrelevant: she could. You never let me down, Wall. Even her thoughts slurred. She giggled, relishing the absurdity of her new romance. Not that there hadn¡¯t been romance in spades earlier. How many boys had she kissed? How many had fallen victim to her roving hands?
She rested her palms on the stone beside her face. Don¡¯t worry, Wall, that¡¯s all behind me. I¡¯m all yours¡ªat least for tonight.
She turned and slumped to the ground, head lolling to the side. For an interminable amount of time she couldn¡¯t be bothered to do more than breathe, engrossed with the satisfaction of long, deep breaths that ended with great, huffing exhales. She would pay for it in the morning, but what was one night? The Festival of Plenty came only every three years, after all, and so what if she¡¯d brought herself to a similar state just last week? She was already practically at her post. Denny could just kick her awake. Or maybe he¡¯d join her on the floor. She could wheedle him into one secluded corner or another, couldn¡¯t she?
She could feel his lips on hers in the visceral way only dreams and the most drunken of stupors could evoke. His blond mustache tickled her upper lip, even though he hadn¡¯t grown it yet on the single occasion she¡¯d managed to trip him into bed. Gods, men could be such prudes, especially the young ones!
He couldn¡¯t refuse her in her dreams though, and she once again ran her hands along the hard muscle of his stomach to the blond trail beneath his nave¡ª
¡°Godsdamnit!¡±
The voice echoed through the darkness, accompanied by the ring of metal on stone and registering with Shayla even before the realization that someone had tripped over her legs. She had scarcely ordered her jumbled senses before hands were groping at her, clumsy in the darkness. Buy a girl a drink first! She thought, made unflappable by the drinks she¡¯d bought herself and would pay for later.
Light found them before she¡¯d had to endure too much pawing. It swelled down the hallway, pushing away the darkness by degrees before finally popping into a full glare from behind a pillar.
Shayla threw an arm up to protect her gritty eyes and felt the searching hands withdraw. ¡°Don¡¯t shtop on my account,¡± she slurred. It wasn¡¯t Denny. He was much more tentative in his advances¡ªor was it more resistant to hers? Regardless, it was festival night! It would be downright uncharitable to turn away someone who might want a tumble. Wall wouldn¡¯t mind, she was sure. Wall wasn¡¯t the jealous type.
¡°Hey now, there¡¯s no rush!¡± she called out to the figures within the light as they hustled toward her. ¡°There¡¯s plenty of Shayla for everybody!¡± It was Festival Night; what could anyone be in such a hurry for?If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
¡°That¡¯s what you get for running ahead, Reymond. Just because you can doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s wise.¡±
¡°I know this hallway like the back of my hand, Daida. It¡¯s hardly my fault they¡¯ve retiled with drunkards.¡±
Shayla opened her mouth to protest that she was drunk, but she didn¡¯t get a chance. Instead she found herself being hauled to her feet as if she were an errant kitten. She felt a stirring of fear at that, and finally resolved her focus on the face in front of her. The features stood stark in the half-light, and there was no mistaking them. Was there a corner you could turn in the entire capital without seeing it in one form or another? She gaped, unable to bring anything resembling rational thought to bear.
The man turned them both toward the light. ¡°Tor, some help here?¡±
¡°Nothing doing, Reymond. Nothing above a spright will respond. Half my Classes are useless.¡± The speaker was no more than a shadow to Shayla, at least until her eyes adjusted.
¡°Daida, I think that means you¡¯re healing.¡±
¡°Like hell I am!¡± came another voice from behind the light.
¡°Well, can you at least help us with our besotted friend here?¡±
Shayla¡¯s head was still a whirl, so full of names and the stories that accompanied them there wasn¡¯t space for anything else. It was all happening so fast.
The spell-assisted transition from drunk to sober was jarring and unpleasant. Shayla¡¯s head spun as her balance was restored.
¡°There. Are you happy Reymond? I didn¡¯t even leave her a headache, though she deserved to keep it. Happy Festival, guard.¡±
Shayla gaped at the woman. Daida of the Searing Light had just¡ªand she herself had just¡ª
She turned to Reymond. Lord Reymond. Lord Reymond, Sarvaal¡¯s Shield. Lord Reymond, recent recipient of her bawdy tongue.
Unable to consider another course of action, Shayla snapped to one knee, which had the unfortunate effect of bringing her forehead directly into the bridge of Lord Reymond¡¯s nose.
¡°Shit, woman!¡± he cursed, but Shayla wasn¡¯t going to be dissuaded from kneeling. A respectful bow had the added benefit of hiding her face.
¡°Do we really have time to waste with this?¡± said the third voice, and Shayla¡¯s gaze flashed sideways before she could stop it. Torgun of the Most Enviable Title. The absurdity of the appellation had always made Shayla sure he¡¯d be one hell of a bloke to drink with, but in the deep shadows cast by the light hovering over Daida¡¯s head the man¡¯s face might as well have been a casting of Hannick¡¯s own from one of his blood-soaked temples.
¡°Right,¡± Reymond responded, his voice nasal as he checked for damage. ¡°What¡¯s your name, guard? Oh, for gods¡¯ sakes, stand up!¡±
Shayla bolted to her feet, but this time Reymond kept well clear.
¡°Um, Shayla, sir. Private First Class. Ma¡¯am. Sir.¡± She bowed to each of the three in turn and wished she were still trying to stare down the floor.
Torgun growled impatiently.
¡°It¡¯s going to have to be ¡®Hero of the Realm¡¯ tonight, soldier,¡± Reymond said, and a dialogue popped into being before Shayla.
Lord Reymond, Sarvaal¡¯s Shield and Hero of the Realm has invited you to his party.
Do you wish to join?
Book 3 Prologue, Part 2
Shayla¡¯s military discipline finally kicked into gear. You don¡¯t turn down a superior¡¯s request, and while the heroes weren¡¯t technically part of the army, they might as well have ranked above the generals, for all the reverence the soldiers held them in. Shayla ogled their stats. Sure, she was second generation and a good 20 years their junior, but even so¡ªover a hundred thousand HP? She¡¯d never partied with people so¡ª
¡°What would you like me to do, sir?¡± Shayla snapped the crispest salute she¡¯d made in years. There wasn¡¯t much need for that down on dungeon duty. Not for these dungeons at least. These were too difficult and too valuable for anyone to frequent, and there were one or two no one had set foot in since their acquisition, due to their lethality. One of those had been gathered by this very party, before Larsen Nightwind and Princess Merilyn¡¯s deaths and Luctus¡¯ retirement from raiding.
¡°Just keep up,¡± Reymond directed, and turned his back on the light. The other two filtered past Shayla after him, and Shayla scurried after them all, a stray kitten now running with a pack of lions.
Lord Reymond strode deep into the hall, past the lesser dungeons and the statues of heroes, some who¡¯d returned, triumphant, with the dungeons¡¯ hearts, and others who hadn¡¯t returned at all. He stopped at the far end in front of a doorway more grand than any other. This one was Legendary, Shayla knew. The Sorrow was the one dungeon every resident of Penfold knew. Princess Merilyn had died there, after all, and there had been an entire week of mourning. Though none of the heroes involved had ever spoken publicly about what had happened, rumors were rampant. Why would they consider running it now?
At least, that¡¯s what Reymond appeared to be doing. He stood, rigid, at the threshold. The others didn¡¯t press him, but Shayla half-opened her mouth to plead with him not to take her inside. She couldn¡¯t make the words come out though, not in front of the heroes.
After seconds that felt like minutes, Reymond turned away, his face tight and frustration written in every line. ¡°Fin Bambular,¡± he announced. ¡°We¡¯ll start there and work our way down. Remember, we keep moving and take any shortcut we see. Our only goal is the hearts.¡±
The entrance to Fin Bambular was the last one along the eastern wall, requiring the four of them to pass beneath Merilyn¡¯s watchful eyes, frozen eternally in her memory. Shayla mimicked Daida and Torgun in gazing up at the statue, so strong and proud, but so young. Too young. After a few seconds, Memory of the Fallen Few settled on each of them.
Memory of the Fallen Few (1 hr 29 min 52 sec)
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The memory of heroes past serve to inspire and uplift you.
+15 to all Attributes
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Reymond was waiting for them at the dungeon entrance, having avoided Merilyn¡¯s statue. He glared at the floor as though it had insulted his honor. Once again, Torgun and Daida made no mention.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
¡
Lord Reymond, Sarvaal¡¯s Shield, has unlocked Fin Bambular.
Perfect Completion Bonus x2! Material Quality increased.
Quick Run applied. Experience Point gain halved.
Weakened Enemies applied. Material Quality reduced.
...
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¡°That¡¯ll have to be enough,¡± Reymond muttered. ¡°Grimauld is going to skin me alive if this turns out to be a hoax.¡±
Shayla had run similarly weakened dungeons, though after a certain point it just wasn¡¯t worth spending the resources to strengthen barrenborn. Dungeon Modifiers were valuable, and their cost increased dramatically relative to the dungeon level. Better to save them for the seedborn dungeon farmers. If Shayla had dared to spend Dungeon Master Grimauld¡¯s Dungeon Master Points on modifiers without his express permission¡
Not that Shayla minded the modifiers. If her head hadn¡¯t already been a whirl, she might have asked Reymond to apply even more. As it stood, she¡¯d just have to trust that he knew what he was doing better than she did. She braced herself, and then followed Reymond in.
¡°Hold on there, hot stuff. You¡¯d only slow us down.¡± For a medium-sized man, Torgun¡¯s hands were very large. They were weather-stained too, and Shayla could see the dirt under his fingernails. Something in her responded to his grip on her shoulder¡ªsomething that needed nurturing and a safe place to thrive. I can see why plants grow for him, she thought, embarrassed to have compared him to Hannick.
¡°We need you to watch our gear, and to guard this.¡± The Gardener King placed a short spear in her hand. It was the first Legendary item Shayla had ever held, and she could almost swear the short spear was buzzing in her hand.
¡°I can¡¯t¡ª¡± she started, but Torgun¡¯s hands closed her own around the spear.
¡°There¡¯s no one else, friend Shayla. All of Penfold needs you tonight.¡±
With that, Torgun ducked through the doorway, disappearing into the folded space containing the dungeon.
Shayla wasn¡¯t upset at being left behind. After all, she knew what was in the dungeons. She¡¯d been guarding them for Penfold for years now, and had made a point of watching back through the old runguides, back before she¡¯d come to terms with the assignment being a one-way move. Guarding the high-level dungeons might have been something prestigious, once, but the number of visiting adventurers capable of facing these particular challenges was dwindling as the First themselves did.
Grimauld¡¯s time was occupied with goods production these days, rather than with cultivating heroes.
She stared at the portal, numb, while she processed. She was holding The Heroes¡¯ Cynosure, the only one in existence that would work for mortals. It had been modified by the Great Sage himself to spirit him and his companions out of harm¡¯s way. And only one charge left, she thought. I hope to gods this isn¡¯t the night they add to those stories. The illusion shows would cast me as as the comic relief, I just know it.
Book 3 Prologue, Part 3
Let it be known that due to the heroic efforts of Reymond, Sarvaal¡¯s Shield; Daida of the Searing Light; and Torgun of the Most Enviable Title, a new Dungeon Heart has been born!
Let it be known that Reymond, Sarvaal¡¯s Shield, has claimed The Dungeon Heart of Fin Bambular, in the great city of Sarvaal, in the territory of the Penfold Confederacy.
Fin Bambular has been destroyed.
Shayla stared at the notification in shock. What were they doing? If Grimauld saw¡ªif he discovered she¡¯d been complicit¡
Matters only worsened once the heroes exited. Once again, Torgun put his hand on her shoulder and handed her an item.
Bambular¡¯s Molar ¡ª 54/54
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The Dungeon Heart of Fin Bambular
The necrotic tooth of Fin Bambular.
???
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Shayla was speechless. Grimauld would skin her alive if he saw her handling this!
¡°We don¡¯t have time to explain, friend Shayla,¡± Torgun said. ¡°Penfold will need you to guard these if we don¡¯t return.¡± He waved away her protests. ¡°Also, if you see anyone, anyone at all, you must join us in whatever dungeon we¡¯re in. Swear it.¡±
Shayla looked at the Gardener King, confused, but there was no refusing orders. ¡°I swear it.¡±
He patted her on the back and withdrew his hand. ¡°Good girl. Now let¡¯s get on to the next one.¡±
Shayla¡¯s head spun with possibilities as the heroes disappeared a second time. Were they thieves disguised as heroes of the realm? Impossible. There was no way to fool the announcements. Those came from Unity themself! Could they be betraying Penfold? That was laughable. They had all but founded the confederacy after all, along with others of the First.
What does it matter, soldier? A voice in her head asked, borrowing the manner of her old drill sergeant. Are you questioning the orders of a superior officer?
Sir! No, sir! Shayla thought wryly to herself. She¡¯d maintain discipline. Still, as time passed her thoughts did drift longingly to the skin of wine in her quarters, especially as the announcements piled up, advertising the destruction of one after another of the country¡¯s most treasured dungeons. It¡¯d make dealing with whatever Grimauld¡¯s going to do to me easier, at least.
There was no time to leave though, because just then silent fanfare announced the fall of the latest dungeon. The heroes would be back within moments.
Daida led the way out, as fresh as when she¡¯d entered the first dungeon. Torgun and Reymond weren¡¯t faring as well, but Shayla wasn¡¯t going to judge. She¡¯d ended up in a similar state often enough, clothes torn, and beaten bloody. Hell, at least they¡¯d gotten thrashed for a good reason. The Shayla of earlier that night might have argued that point, but sober Shayla was the one who had to deal with the bruises, and she foolishly found them to be more at issue than her wounded pride.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
¡°Five minutes,¡± Reymond announced, and sank down against the wall between entrances. ¡°Five minutes and we¡¯ll be underway.¡±
¡°There¡¯s only one left,¡± Torgun said. ¡°Are you sure you want to?¡±
¡°She wouldn¡¯t forgive me if I didn¡¯t.¡± The Shield sighed. ¡°Not after what she paid for it.¡±
¡°About that¡¡± Torgun hesitated.
In some preternatural way, Shayla knew what would come next. She met Reymond¡¯s gaze and held it.
¡°Absolutely not!¡± Torgun said, looking between them, and for an instant he wore Hannick¡¯s face again, filled with rage.
¡°Her compatriots are rallied above,¡± Daida murmured. ¡°How many of them won¡¯t see the morning?¡±
¡°I still don¡¯t fully believe the news. Luctus would never!¡±
Reymond was subdued. ¡°You know what he¡¯s been through, Tor. How many have we seen break for less?¡±
The man shrugged and looked away, expelling a defeated sigh.
Shayla felt like doing the same, but she refused to allow herself to look at things too closely. There was only one dungeon left, and while there were no runguides for it, word had traveled. She might be a drunkard and more than a bit of a cad, but Shayla was part of Penfold¡¯s army. Others might look down on her, relegated here to purgatory, but she had never run from a fight. She wasn¡¯t going to start now.
Before her feet could freeze, she turned again to the princess¡¯ statue. She searched the stone gaze, hoping it might carry some secret message. Instead, the royal eyes carried a challenge, as if daring her to run.
Before long, Daida joined the guard. Shayla appreciated the unspoken support.
¡°Are you sure you can¡¯t undo your ¡®cure¡¯ from earlier?¡± she asked.
The other woman laughed, then rummaged in her bag. ¡°Actually, I might be able to do you one better.¡±
Shayla took the offered flask, which fit neatly in her palm. Even the flask was beyond anything she had ever owned.
Calsicum Preservative Flask ¡ª 520/520
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Storing anything but the finest spirits in this bespoke flask would be blasphemy.
Contents: 5 ounces of Fairfeather Brandy
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¡°Only a sip now. This might be the last of it.¡±
Unbelieving, Shayla pulled the stopper and raised the flask to her lips. The aroma was heady, and the brandy burned like creation itself, exploding inside her chest like a thousand suns. The pressure inside was too much, and so Shayla grew to accommodate it until she encompassed all of existence. Her atoms were stars, her skin was¡
Her skin snapped into place, and Shayla was back. She looked at Daida with wide eyes.
¡°A little better than the swill they serve at festival, no?¡± the reluctant healer asked. Shayla could still feel the stars inside her, pulsing just under the surface.
¡°It¡¯s amazing, no doubt,¡± she answered. ¡°But does it get you drunk?¡±
Daida cackled and threw an arm around the guard. ¡°I like this one!¡±
Shayla grinned. With the fire of the goddess inside her, she might as well be a hero herself. She could tell that Daida was similarly uninterested in reckoning with what lie beneath the merriment.
Torgun joined them to receive the buff and to reclaim the dungeon hearts from Shayla, secreting them into a satchel on his back. Then Reymond came as well, though he kept his eyes on the ground until he reached the foot of the statue. He steeled himself, and then raised his eyes to meet the princess¡¯. The air between them felt as brittle as glass to Shayla, as though any movement could shatter it, revealing cutting corners. Lord Reymond gazed at the face, himself as rigid as stone. He whispered something, too low to hear and too private to try.
After long moments, Reymond broke his gaze and settled it on the dungeon entrance instead. Then, with a nod, he strode inside. Daida and Torgun followed him, and then it was Shayla¡¯s turn. She strode forward before she could think twice.
THE SORROW
Book 3 Prologue, Part 4
Stories didn¡¯t do the dungeon justice. After all, how to explain what it felt like to have time itself ripple through you? The Samsonstone Guardians would charge, only to be slowed almost to a stop. Then they would rush forward at a comparatively break-neck speed, because Shayla herself would be caught in the timewave¡¯s swell.
Reymond and the others had run the dungeon countless times before completing it though, and even years later they remembered the strategies they¡¯d devised. Lord Reymond filled the air near the floor with swirling particles of ice that glittered over the marble floors in Daida¡¯s light. Shayla watched in fascination as the temporal ripples became perfectly visible, demarcated by an eerie linear slowing to the swirl of the flecks of ice over the floor.
¡°Left,¡± Reymond announced, and Torgun nodded. Shayla watched them wait for the right moment, until just after the latest crest passed over them and the rest of the room became a wild frenzy of ice, and then the slowing faded. The men dashed away in a pincer maneuver. Shayla gritted her teeth in anticipation of the clash.
She needn¡¯t have worried. The two men aligned themselves perfectly along the axis of the oncoming timewave, never allowing the golem a moment off-sync to rush them. Instead, all three slowed together, then joined in a frenetic blur. Daida danced, sure to keep perpendicular to every wave so she would slow simultaneously. In truth her job was harder, but she was the best of the best. After a few passes, Shayla caught the pattern, following Daida from here to there and trying to keep out of the way.
Reymond¡¯s sword and shield groaned and sang as blue ice met steel-gray stone, leaving frozen scars behind wherever they cut. Shayla could feel the cold from a distance, beyond what the ice particles themselves had brought.
The Gardener King¡¯s plants didn¡¯t mind the cold, not if it meant they got to be with him. They sprung up around his wrists and ankles to ensnare the golem even while securing Torgun¡¯s feet to the ground. While Reymond chipped away at the stone, Torgun¡¯s vines and roots found every crevice, doing the work of any plant¡ªgrowing against all odds.
Golem after golem fell in the same way until there was only the boss left.
Alone in a vast, marbled hall of his own, the Grand Guardian stood directly between them and the far door.
The heroes didn¡¯t pause, and Shayla once again stood impotently to the side. She¡¯d played Prissy Princess with the other kids when she was younger, but she¡¯d never enjoyed being the focus of the Quest. She¡¯d rather be in the vanguard, protecting the prissy princess¡ªgirl or boy¡ªfrom the opposing team. Now she was the prissy princess for real, following along helplessly on an honest-to-goodness escort quest. Her embarrassment was almost enough to overwhelm the feeling of stars swarming inside her.
With a final shout, Torgun drove his fist deep into the golem¡¯s mouth, burying his arm nearly up to the elbow. Shayla winced at the crack of bone when the stone closed around his meaty forearm. Because of the timewaves, Torgun couldn¡¯t pull back toward the women, and instead had to move even farther away, putting him out of reach of Daida¡¯s healing. Shayla started to go to him, but Daida put out an arm to hold her back. Both she and the druid watched the golem, waiting for¡ªThe tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Vines erupted from between the stones of the boss¡¯s chest, expanding in seconds to crack the stone.
¡°Those plants sure do like his blood,¡± Daida murmured.
Indeed they must have, because by then they were bursting from the golem¡¯s mouth, branches seeking the sky and roots seeking the earth, tearing stone apart wherever it got in their way.
Torgun held the stump of his right arm with his left, staunching the flow of blood. Not entirely though; with every patter of blood hitting stone, plants of every kind sprang up, leaving a trail of green behind the bleeding gardener.
As soon as he was back within range, Daida closed the wound and set the hand regrowing.
¡°That¡¯s one place Int comes in handy for healing,¡± Daida noted, and indeed Torgun¡¯s hand was regrowing at an amazing speed, even though it would take hours and a massive amount of stamina to finish. The druid was ready with a stamina potion though. The matter-of-fact way the heroes reacted to the loss of the limb hinted to Shayla that this wasn¡¯t the first time Torgun had left part of himself down a monster¡¯s gullet.
The rooms beyond the final golem only grew more grand, transitioning from marble to porphyry and then to fluxstone. Each room held a new boss, and beyond each boss was a locked door. Shayla ran her fingers down the surface of the first. Was it stone? Metal? She¡¯d never seen anything like it, nothing so black.
After a few seconds, Reynold produced an unusual cylindrical key and, after running his gauntleted palms over the surface to find the keyhole, he slid it in. Without a sound the door disappeared.
Four others opened the same way in response to four separate keys.
Beyond the fifth door was blackness. In fact, Shayla wasn¡¯t convinced the door was gone until she put her hand through where it had been.
The three heroes stepped forward into¡ªor onto¡ªthe void. They walked without sound, and Shayla trailed along after them. She could feel the moment approaching, and though her feet didn¡¯t slow, she couldn¡¯t stop her heart from racing and her palms from sweating.
Using the light from the door as a reference, the four walked farther in. There they could ignore the effects of the timewaves, Daida said. The room held no enemies, and so whomever was left behind one moment would be able to speed ahead the next.
Their destination was a single square, as white a white as the black was black. There was no way to tell how far the square truly was, but when the heroes stopped, Shayla did as well. For a moment they each stared at the shape, but Shayla didn¡¯t see any need to drag things out. She made to approach the cube, but Daida caught her arm.
¡°Not yet you don¡¯t,¡± she said, turning Shayla around. ¡°Kneel.¡±
Secretly, Shayla was glad for the delay, but she resented it all the more for that. Why make her screw up the courage twice?
¡°Reymond, your sword?¡± Daida requested, and the man moved to hand it to her. Torgun came close as well, right in line with Reymond for the next timewave.
Ceremoniously, Daida lowered the sword to touch the blade to Shayla¡¯s shoulders. She didn¡¯t speak, but the announcement spoke for itself.
Book 3 Prologue, Part 5
Let it be known that Shayla, Private First Class of Sarvaal¡¯s Silver Gate Brigade, has been titled by the authority of Daida of the Searing Light.
All hail Shayla the Unflinching!
¡°All hail,¡± the heroes intoned in unison.
Shayla appreciated the gesture, though she was nowhere near as pleased as she¡¯d always dreamed she would be. Oh well, she thought. At least Mum will see it. I hope that makes it easier for her.
¡°My thanks,¡± Shayla murmured as she stood, then bowed again to Daida. The woman pursed her lips and nodded but didn¡¯t smile. Instead, she reached out and gave Shayla¡¯s arm a squeeze. The two men nodded their farewells, and Shayla turned toward the white again. It wasn¡¯t two steps before someone grabbed her arm again. Reymond this time, with Torgun close behind him.
¡°If you see her, friend guard, if anything lies beyond¡ªcould you give her this?¡±
Shayla looked at the trinket in her hand. That made two Legendary items in one day! Torgun¡¯s eyes widened in surprise, but his surprise couldn¡¯t match Shayla¡¯s. This was¡
Singular Love ¡ª 360/360
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Gifted by his betrothed, this locket served Lord Reymond, Sarvaal¡¯s Shield, as a symbol of love gone beyond the pall of death.
+10% to Wisdom
Clasping this locket to your heart grants immunity toDespair.
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¡°I ca¡ª¡± Shayla started, but Reymond cut her off.
¡°If she¡¯s still there, if there¡¯s any chance¡ I have to let her know...¡± Reymond¡¯s eyes were red as he pulled her into an embrace.
Shayla¡¯s surprise at receiving the Legendary item paled in comparison. As well be embraced by a god! She tentatively reached to pat the man on his back. You¡¯re the one dying here! She thought to herself. And he¡¯s the one sending you! Still, even given the current circumstances, she couldn¡¯t deny him the comfort.
Lord Reymond broke the embrace after a few moments, then rested one hand on either of her arms and gazed at her. He¡¯s not sending me to my first day of school! She thought, but she couldn¡¯t ignore the honor of such attention, nor the heat. Damnit, woman! Even with your head on the chopping block?! The latest timewave crested over them and on toward the others.
She met Reymond¡¯s eyes then, glacial blue and as fierce as a raptor¡¯s. Beneath those eyes, however, he smiled, self-effacing and apologetic.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Shayla¡¯s eyes widened in outrage, but she didn¡¯t have time to finish her thought. Reymond¡¯s hands tightened like vices around her arms, and within an instant Shayla found herself airborne and rocketing toward¡ Torgun?
She slammed into the druid with impossible force, knocking him backward into the receding timewave. She heard Daida shout, sped into unintelligibility by the relative timeframes, and then there was a flash of white.
...
Lord Reymond, Sarvaal¡¯s Shield, has died.
...
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Let it be known that due to the heroic efforts of Lord Reymond, Sarvaal¡¯s Shield; Daida of the Searing Light; Torgun of the Most Enviable Title; and Shayla the Unflinching, a new Dungeon Heart has been born.
¡°Double damnit!¡± Daida shouted.
Torgun pushed Shayla off him and rolled to his feet, looking for all the world like he was going to dash into the white himself.
There was no white though. From her vantage on the floor Shayla could see that all that was left where the square had been was a palm-sized cube.
Daida reached down and, with a single hand, hauled Shayla to her feet. The guard winced. That¡¯s a cracked rib, broken clavicle, and¡ is that a punctured lung? She tallied the familiar injuries like the notes of a fine wine.
¡°Oh, for gods¡¯ sake,¡± Daida growled, and restored Shayla to health within seconds. Then she stalked over to the newborn dungeon heart and punted it with all her strength into the darkness.
¡°Hey, we need that!¡± Torgun protested.
¡°Like hell we do! This dungeon can rot. If Luctus claims it, so much the better. I for one have had enough of it taking my friends.¡±
Torgun nodded wearily, his eyes downcast. ¡°What a waste to come back in here.¡±
¡°I¡¯ll say. We shouldn¡¯t have let him come.¡±
¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Shayla said, glancing toward where the white had been. ¡°It should have been me.¡± Her relief that it hadn¡¯t been her only added to her guilt.
¡°It¡¯s not your fault,¡± Daida said, glaring after the kicked cube. ¡°He never planned to let you go in. That stunt with the necklace was just to get us to let our guards down.¡± She turned to face Shayla. ¡°Oh well, let¡¯s go. We still have Luctus to deal with. Maybe Reymond could have thought about that!¡±
They backtracked through The Sorrow. The dungeon had once again lived up to its name, though, given Daida¡¯s response, Shayla thought it might be better named "The Fury." The woman periodically broke the silence to curse her long-time teammate. Torgun kept quiet, trudging somberly through the timewaves. It might have been faster to end the dungeon by taking its heart, but no one had it in them to retrieve it. They were all anxious to reach the exit.
Once there, Shayla followed the heroes out, taking one last look at the most infamous dungeon in Penfold¡¯s history.
Torgun and Daida had frozen just outside the entrance though, and Shayla walked directly into them. With their stats she couldn¡¯t so much as jostle them, but¡ª
An apology died on her lips. In the light suffusing the space around Daida, Shayla could see the man. He was barring their path, standing almost casually, but the heroes¡¯ defensive postures screamed a warning to Shayla.
¡°Daida. Tor. I¡¯d almost hoped you wouldn¡¯t be here. Still, it¡¯s good to see you again.¡± His voice carried almost no emotion, malice or otherwise. He was taller than either hero and seemed taller still with both of them crouched.
¡°Luctus,¡± Daida growled. ¡°Finally lost your mind, have you?¡±
The Great Sage straightened his robes, momentarily bringing Shayla¡¯s attention to his equipment. Every item was Legendary, boasting stats that even Reymond hadn¡¯t matched.
¡°Probably,¡± he answered, expressionless. ¡°It¡¯s about time, isn¡¯t it?¡±
Book 3 Prologue, Part Last
Torgun took a step forward. ¡°What would Shirry think, Luctus?¡± Contrary to Daida, his tone was sympathetic.
Daida wouldn¡¯t stand for it. ¡°If he cared one whit for Shirregard, we wouldn¡¯t be here. They say he destroyed Halmilibranth.¡±
¡°It hasn¡¯t been Shirry¡¯s Halmilibranth for decades now,¡± Luctus said, with only the smallest hint of heat to his voice.
¡°But why, Luctus? What do you hope to gain by doing this?¡± Torgun asked.
The Great Sage looked at Torgun. ¡°I don¡¯t expect you to understand, old friend. Maybe I am crazy, or maybe I¡¯m so tired of playing a losing game, I¡¯ve decided to flip the board.¡±
¡°You¡¯ll have to make your way through us, then,¡± Daida snarled, brandishing her battle wand.
¡°I¡¯ve come to terms with that. We all know the outcome though. Queen takes knight, queen takes bishop.¡± He made no move to prepare for the coming fight, only giving and sad smile, but the same couldn¡¯t be said for the other two.
Amidst the buffing, Torgun unslung the familiar bag containing dungeon hearts from his back and passed it back to Shayla. ¡°If you get a chance, run. We¡¯ll keep him occupied.¡± Shayla accepted the bag without a word. She had never run from a fight, but this was bigger than her.
Luctus addressed her directly. ¡°Oh, little one, I¡¯m sorry they¡¯ve brought you into this. Far better to have died with the rest of your army. It would¡¯ve been painless, you know. It will still be painless, but it¡¯s no fun to know it¡¯s coming. Better the cattle not see the slaughter before it¡¯s their time.¡±
¡°Come closer,¡± Shayla spat back. ¡°This heifer wants to plant a hoof in that pretty mouth of yours.¡± She couldn¡¯t quite believe what she was saying¡ªand to whom.
Luctus barked a humorless laugh. ¡°Have you been giving lessons, Daida? It¡¯s been quite a while since anyone but you has talked to me like that.¡±
¡°Just get on with it, you grandiloquent prat!¡±
¡°But I have been¡ªor hadn¡¯t you noticed?¡± The sage gestured to the ceiling, and high above Shayla could just see a fine sift of dust filtering down, never quite reaching them before it winked out.
Torgun transformed in an instant, gardener become reaper, and he sprinted toward the sage.
Luctus fixed him with dead eyes, and within seconds the druid¡¯s enormous mana pool was gone. Torgun swung and swung again at the sage, roaring all the while, but to Shayla¡¯s eyes Luctus simply flickered in and out of existence.
¡°It¡¯s a shame, really,¡± Luctus said. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have wanted you to be awake for this. Best make it quick.¡± The Great Sage¡¯s gaze sharpened suddenly, and Shayla couldn¡¯t help but give a startled squeak when, without warning, the druid simply collapsed. Like snow leaving a mountainside, grey dust cascaded over itself, no longer able to hold the form it once had. Instead of piling up, the dust simply spread out before dissolving away.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Daida hadn¡¯t wasted the intervening time, and swung her battle wand with a shout. Heat, light, and sound blasted away from the woman, and even without being the focus of the spell, Shayla could smell her own burning hair. For a moment the afterimage obscured her vision, and she could have sworn the sage was toast. No one could withstand a blow like that! But no; as she blinked away the afterimage, Shayla was shocked to see Luctus still there, still unmoving. It didn¡¯t look like a single strand of his graying hair had been singed.
With another growl, Daida herself disappeared, and for a moment Shayla was sure she had met Torgun¡¯s same fate. Instead, all around the room more Daidas appeared, each one a perfect copy of the other. With one voice they shouted at Shayla. ¡°RUN!¡±
Once again a direct order unglued Shayla¡¯s feet, and she bolted for the exit, moving as wide around the sage as she could.
¡°We never expected you¡¯d have to use this one for real, did we Dai?¡± Luctus said to the air as he brushed off further flashes of light. Shayla ducked her head and ran. If one of those beams hit her she stood as much a chance as Torgun had.
She hadn¡¯t reached the end of the hallway before all went still and quiet. Against her better judgement, she turned.
Daida of the Searing Light knelt on one knee, manaless and panting.
¡°You never did like me much, did you?¡± Luctus asked the woman. When she glared at him, he continued. ¡°That¡¯s alright. You know, I¡¯ve always admired you. So fearless. Oh well, perhaps we¡¯ll meet again in another life, and I can have another shot at impressing you.¡±
The hero opened her mouth to retort, but she never got a chance. Instead she turned grey and began to collapse in on herself. Shayla couldn¡¯t watch. The night had been too much. She¡¯d lost four heroes. The entire world had.
¡°Wait a moment,¡± Luctus said behind her, and Shayla found herself frozen, only to be picked up and carried back the way she had come. ¡°It¡¯s such a delight to have all the seeds at last, you know? I should have taken them ages ago. If only Shirry had let me. Stingy elves.¡±
Shayla was turned to face the man, not of her choice, and once she reached him, he too lifted into the air. Together they floated down the hallway. Almost Shayla thought they were heading back into The Sorrow, but Luctus halted their flight in front of the princess¡¯ statue. They settled to the ground, and Shayla felt the magic¡¯s grip release. She could have struck then, but she knew it would be useless.
Luctus stared up into the statue¡¯s eyes, and for a moment his face held the same expression Reymond¡¯s had. ¡°This is all your fault,¡± he said, and for a moment Shayla thought he was addressing her. His eyes were still fixed on the statue though.
Then he turned toward Shayla and spoke to her in truth. ¡°Those were the days, you know? Before the Alliance fell apart. Merilyn was just the first piece of it. Then Lars died and Gliteau just couldn¡¯t forgive us; couldn¡¯t forgive me, really. Oh well, she¡¯s gone now, and so is her precious inbred city. Then we had Carnasa, Birregun, Fendilur, and finally, Sarvaal.¡±
He released a breath that was halfway between a sigh and a frustrated yell, and Shayla jumped in spite of herself. ¡°Then we¡¯ll see if the gods will deign to see things my way.¡± He said, then snorted. ¡°Gods and their precious rules¡¡±
He stood in silence for a moment, again staring up into Princess¡¯s Merilyn''s face. Finally he broke away and glanced toward Shayla. ¡°Now, little one, it¡¯s time to go to sleep.¡±
Shayla lashed out on instinct, fully aware of the futility of the gesture. This is it, Ma. Shaylie¡¯s picked her last fight. Never thought I¡¯d end up a Hero of the Realm, did you? Only that I¡¯d dirty my dresses and scare off all the menfolk. Her thoughts went to one man in particular. A too-young-for-her man with blond hair.
Luctus caught the guard as she fell away into her dreams, and he lay her down gently at the princess'' sandaled feet as the last of the mana drained out of the great city of Sarvaal.