The Dungeon Without a System

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The Eighth Floor, The Dungeon, Medea Island

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"Hallmark!" Auora shouted, her voice bouncing all across the mountaintop. She looked across the snowy plains with squinted eyes, the glare from the snow almost as bad as staring directly at the blinding sun.

"Chana!" Xerat joined in half-heartedly. They'd been looking for the knight and archer all morning and had little luck. The blizzard had raged for the rest of the day and through the night, only subsiding with the sun's rising. Any tracks that either guilder may have made were long erased by furious winds.

"Auora, we have to face the facts. They're gone." Xerat stated, exhaustion evident in his voice and slumped shoulders. "We've been out here for hours. It's a miracle none of the monsters from last night have ambushed us, to be honest. It's time to cut our losses and get out of this deathpit." Auora shook her head.

"You know as well as I do that Hallmark wouldn't let a little blizzard kill him. He's out here, somewhere. Chana... She is probably dead, buried in the snow. But we can't find where she fell to confirm that. Until then, we assume she's alive and potentially kidnapped by the dungeon as Blace, Titon, and Dorin were." Auora commented, voice filled with grief. She took a deep breath, then continued calling for the lost knight. "Hallmark!"

Auora heard Xerat give a long-suffering sigh, but he soon joined in. "Chana!"

In the next hour, they climbed over two ridges. Just as Auora was about to agree to give up and leave, their calls received an answer.

"I'm down here!" the faint voice called back. The searching guilders passed it twice before finding the source; a deep gash in the snow looked intimidatingly deep. Peering into its depths and careful not to fall in themselves, Auora and Xerat saw Hallmark stuck near the bottom, wedged between the ice-veined stone walls.

"Thank the Gods you found me!" Hallmark called, voice far more audible from directly outside the crevasse. "I was starting to think you'd have left me for dead by now!"

"How the hell do we get you out of there?" Xerat wondered aloud, bringing his remaining hand up and rubbing his beardless chin. "I could melt a series of handholds in the icy parts, so Auora and I could climb down to help unstick you, then you could easily climb out."

"As good a plan as it is, I'm in a fair amount of pain," Hallmark replied. "Somethings wrong with my left foot. Not sure if it's sprained or broken, but best not take a potion until I'm free and clear."

Auora cursed. Of all the things to go wrong... She turned and started digging into her bag. "Xerat, could you form a circular ice pillar from the ground here? I need an anchor." Auora grabbed the coil of rope and pulled it out. "We'll pull Hallmark out with the rope, but you'll still need to climb down there to free him." She ordered, and Xerat quickly moved to comply.

A pillar was quickly raised from the ice near the crevasse, and the rope was securely fastened. Xerat tied one end to his waist, then carefully melted hand and foot-holds to climb down.

It took ten minutes to get down and a few more to melt the ice enough to free the trapped knight.

"Yeah, that doesn't look good," Xerat remarked upon seeing Hallmark's foot.

"How bad?" Auora called down, worried.

"I'm pretty sure he didn't put his boot on backward yesterday, though I could be wrong," the mage replied, and Auora winced at the mental image. That kind of injury... A potion would help, but it wouldn't heal the foot completely. He'd be fighting on that thing the whole way out of the dungeon.

"Well, tie that rope around his shoulders, then get back up here," Auora ordered.

Xerat did so, and with synchronized pulls, they lifted Hallmark from his icy prison. When he crested the edge, and Auora saw his foot clearly, she realized Xerat's comment was spot on. His foot was facing the entirely wrong direction. Seeing it made her cringe and let out a hiss as the man sat down, legs stretched before them.

"Are you not in pain? You haven't cried out at all." Auora commented, incredulous.

"Of course I'm in pain," Hallmark replied, and now Auora could hear the tenseness in his voice. "But I am capable of working through it. Can someone get this foot the right way around, please?" Xerat quickly stepped back, hands raised. Auora sighed.

"Fine. I'll do it," she stated, reaching for the twisted foot. She pulled the boot off and saw the foot had twisted left, and the shin bones had broken the skin. Auora passed a strip of leather to the knight, who quickly placed it between his teeth. "Brace yourself; this is going to hurt," Auora warned.

She turned the foot back the right way around with a single quick motion. Hallmark groaned in pain, and Auora could hear the leather strip being bitten through.

But, the foot was now facing the correct direction. She adjusted the foot so his thigh bone was back inside his flesh and handed him a Platinum-Tier healing potion. "This should heal it most of the way. It'll be tender and fragile, so don't damage it again."

Hallmark laughed tightly, then downed the golden-tinged maroon liquid. He smacked his lips when he was done, and the three watched the flesh on his shin knit back together. With some assistance from Auora, Hallmark was on his feet in another minute.

"Ahhh. I wish Potions were more effective." He said, wistfully, as he put pressure on his foot. "I remember when a single Silver-Tier potion was enough to regrow my entire arm!" Auora shook her head in quiet disbelief, though she had no doubt such a thing had happened.

"It's the bane of success," Auora claimed. "The stronger you are, the harder it is for the potion to affect your body. Be glad we stocked up on Platinum potions before we got to this gods-forsaken island."

"Now that you're all healed up, let's get out of here." Xerat chipped in, stepping forward. "Chana's either been kidnapped or is lying dead under six feet of snow, and I don't want to join her."

"That's not the Plan," Hallmark cautioned, a growl creeping into his voice. Plan?

"To the Hells with the Plan," Xerat shot back. "I don't want to die here!"

"Excuse me," Auora stated, looking between the two with narrowed eyes, and they seemed to suddenly remember she was there. Xerat looked at her with guilty eyes. Hallmark's eyes were cold.

"What 'Plan'?"

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The Sixth Floor, The Dungeon, Medea Island

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Isid picked her way through the field of corpses slowly, trying to step in the least-blood-soaked sections of stone. It was an ultimately futile effort, and she resigned herself to getting her armor magically cleaned. Again.

"At least we know they came past here?" Flasa commented, pulling an arrow that bore the tell-tale signs of use by an enchanted bow. The runes burned onto the head and shaft were bereft of mana and obviously spent.

"Small comfort, that is," Jerrad replied, hefting the severed wing of one of the giant bats. "They stripped most of the cores before moving on, as well as the monster's talons." From where he was sketching a mostly-intact monster felled by a well-placed arrow through the eye, Harald stood and stretched his back.

"Magnificent creatures," he said, putting his sketchbook away. "No doubt related to the fruit bats that live in the jungle above. I'd wonder what they eat, but they likely subsist entirely on mana. It's not like there is any food on this hellish floor to eat, except the Capriccios..."

"Magnificent, to be sure," Bertram agreed, hand on his chin and squinting at one that'd had its face crushed in. "But ugly. There is no elegance in them; they are merely enlarged animals. Not even any exotic features, as with the multi-colored tigers."

"If every monster were as attractive as the Tigers, they wouldn't be so special. Just another among many." Haythem stated as he cut a portion of skin and fur from its body. "Though the fur is remarkably soft. I expected something rougher."

"Monsters aside, we need to move on," Isid broke in, cutting the chatter immediately. "The Guardian and the Seventh await." The group picked their way through the killing field and kept to the cavern's edge as they approached the giant gash in the wall that led to the Guardian.

It appeared as if someone had melted the edges and shaped them to resemble enormous bricks. They seemed... clumsy. Rough. It was as if a giant had shaped them from clay. The base of the gash was guarded by two Fire Spirits. One seemed a lesser version of the Elemental they had observed crossing the ashy plains on first entering the Sixth. The other roughly resembled a stone man, one whose skin was broken by veins of glowing lava and standing twice the height of her husband.

Isid gave the hand symbols for a sneaky approach, and the group crept as close as possible. At about a hundred yards from the entrance, any large rocks they could hide behind had been cleared away, leaving nothing but an open plain that would leave them totally exposed.

With no other option, they had to rush across the plain.

Flasa, Ducan, and Jessikar possessed bows, while Bertram and Lilliette had magic. They would cover Isid, Jerrad, Harald, Haythem, and Paetor as they crossed the plain. Bertrum, as the raid group's cleric, would remain behind with the archers.

As fast as the plan was concocted, it was executed. Lilliette's magic proved ineffective. The lighting did nothing but make the fiery elemental brighter and made the stone monster's cracks glow even more. The beams of Bertram's light magic seared lines across the stone monster's surface and cracked the pauldron-like section he'd hit.

The three archers found their arrows useless against the spirits. Arrows bounced off the stone spirit's skin and burned up as soon as they touched the fiery spirit. Despite their attacks proving little more than nuisances, it was enough distraction for the melee fighters to close the distance.

Haythem, Harald, and Paetor surrounded the stone spirit, each landing heavy blows that further cracked the spirit's skin. Isid herself, and her husband, engaged the fiery spirit. They danced around it and each other in perfect sync. It was one born of years in battle, side by side, with complete trust in the other.

Isid saw the stone spirit go down as Bertram, who had rushed to join the melee, came down with an overhead strike from his mace, which smashed right into the most heavily cracked section of the spirit's chest. The rocks crumbled, and the broken core fell to the ground with them.

It wasn't long afterward that the manablades that extended from her forearms managed to pierce the fiery spirit's skin, directly into the point where its magic was most concentrated. The core cracked, and the spirit hiding within disappeared into the ground.

Unlike the Fifth's Guardian, who escaped with its metal skin, this one had no convenient grates or holes to pull the slowly cooling hunks of metal through. The guilders were left with a melted pile of metal they dearly wanted to take with them. By all observation, the same metal made up Mushu's morningstar. Which meant it was incredibly mana conductive and resilient to blunt damage. It could only be scratched by magic blades and another metal of similar hardness.

They waited around an hour for the metal to cool, and Vertrum checked in with each guilder to ensure they were uninjured.

Next, they'd have to fight their way to the Guardian, then fight the Elemental itself. Isid had to admit that even though the prospect frightened her, a part of her was raring to go.

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The Eighth Floor, The Dungeon, Medea Island

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Yomel, the Ice Fox, peered out from within the tunnel in the snow, his gaze locked upon the three humans as they passed into view over the ridgeline. Before, there had only been two as they wandered the snowy slopes. He called his bonded one through their connection and felt the Snowbold's gaze through his eyes.

"So they found the knight. That's unfortunate." Blizzard said, his mental voice thrumming through the fox's mind. Yomel mentally yipped a question to his bonded.

"Well, Dear One, that remains to be seen. If they turn right at that cliff, they'll return to the Seventh. If they turn left, they're planning to head deeper into the Eighth, and we'll have to head them off," the snowbold explained. Yomel yipped back confidently to a proud chuckle from his bonded.

"Yes, You and your mate did very well yesterday; that's true. But these three will be wise to any ambushes. It's unlikely to work again. We'll have to try something different."

Yomel's gaze sharpened on the figures as they reached the cliff... two turned left, and one turned right.

The Fox could feel Blizzard's surprise. "They split the party? Why? There is no tactical benefit for one to leave while the others continue... Follow the two humans from a safe distance, Dear One. I'll have another group follow the one." Yomel yipped a confirmation, and he felt his bonded's attention withdraw through their connection.

Yomel yipped softly to his mate and brothers. The five Ice Foxes shadowed the humans from the only safe distance they'd identified: half a mountain away. Yomel knew the humans had sharp senses. Any closer, and he was sure they'd be noticed instantly.

If they noticed the fox and his family, then they were in incredible danger. None of them were connected to the respawn crystals, and for them, death was permanent.

Yomel sent warm feelings through the connection to his bonded and received some in kind. The equivalent of touching noses. He looked over at his family and felt some pity for them. They weren't bonded and would never have this. That the bonding also gave him more intelligence was a double-edged sword. It made him more suitable as a companion to his bonded, but in turn, made it harder to be around his own kind. In comparison, they were... simple.

Yomel shook his head, and the foxes continued over the mountain. They passed through small hidden snow tunnels where they could, to limit their time exposed on the snow.

This continued until the human duo came across the bridge.

The bridge that spanned The Great Divide could barely be described as such, as it was little more than four ropes. The two at the bottom were bound together every foot or so by a roughly-shaped half-foot long plank. The other two rested about chest height on a human and were bound to the first two every four feet or so.

The 'Bridge' spanned the kilometer-wide gap between the first and second peaks, called 'The Great Divide' because it seemed like the mountain had been cracked in two. The slopes met at the valley below, filled with deadly spikes and crevices. The gap was also incredibly windy, and the bridge was swung about to the gust's whims.

This was their next opportunity to kill the humans and rid the Storm-Swept Peaks of them.

Yomel once again called for his bonded's attention. Together, they watched the two humans slowly shuffle across the wildly swinging bridge. Once they reached about halfway across the bridge, Yomel could feel the sudden vicious glee his bonded felt. When he saw Pyry fly into view, he understood.

Yomel and his mate had thrown the ice spikes that had downed the archer, and the water mage didn't have the range necessary to reach the Boss. They were sitting ducks. The humans seemed to realize this as the Thunderhawk uttered a piercing shriek, and the two began rushing for the Second Peak.

Pyry hovered in the Divide, and with each beat of her wings, the bridge was thrown wildly about. It even turned upside-down at points. The human's flight was halted as they held on to the ropes like their lives depended on it. And they did.

Pyry, seemingly frustrated at their success at doing so, let out another piercing shriek and began sparking. She had to cut off her gust-summoning spell to charge her lightning spell, and the humans used the opportunity to dash for the end of the bridge.

The lightning bolt was released, and Yomel reflexively closed his eyes. His pack yelped in pain, not having the sense to do so.

When he opened them, Yomel saw the bridge falling. The Bolt had struck the bridge's center and cut all four ropes. The two sides, no longer under tension, fell away from under the human's feet.

The armor-clad human was closest to the bridge's end and managed to fling himself forward to catch the planks as they fell. The water mage... did not. He fell down and down into the dark, spiky valley below. Pyry shrieked again and flew out of the valley, letting the wind carry her into the sky.

Yomel watched the sole remaining human climb up the remains of the bridge and felt the stirrings of disappointment from his bonded.

"Ah, well, one is better than none," Blizzard mentally murmured, more to himself than Yomel. "It'stoo bad the knight survived, though. He was the toughest of this group; it's not exactly a surprise." Yomel yipped a question to his bonded.

"I'm surprised you didn't notice. The human left a metal ball stuck to the rope when Pyry arrived. The Bolt was aimed at the humans but was diverted to that little ball instead. A 'decoy' of some kind, which draws magic to itself? Perhaps. Though I didn't expect them to come up with a counter to Pyry's bolts so quickly. They must have had the artifact already, which means it's something the other humans could acquire."

Yomel tuned his bonded out. The shaman could get this way sometimes, and Yomel could never keep up.

"Ah, I'm sorry Dear One. Forgive me." Blizzard apologized, and Yomel sent feelings of forgiveness.

"Damn it all." Blizzard suddenly cursed. "I'm going to have to ask Tear for the parts to build another bridge now."

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