Journey to the Darkest Dungeon

A First Embarkment

After several hours of bleak trudging, the soldiers had finally arrived at their destination. Their path had lead them through evermore decayed vegetation and rows of unliving crop, though a few more old houses and fortifications had joined in on the scenery. All broken of course, expired under the swirling chaos that had taken hold of this realm. Not a single living thing, be it person, rat or bird had crossed their path in hours. And the heroes assumed it would remain this way. What used to be the great outer fortress, a stronghold of power surrounding the manor, lied right before them now and their journey had reached its first stop of many. An impressively large structure, ruined too by the gnawing ravages of time. Half collapsed towers, once sturdy walls reduced to a pile of rubble - a magnificent, yet bizarre sight to behold. The entrance portal, made of reinforced wood, thick and powerful, had fouled away in part and hung, demolished, in its hinges.

The route they were to pass following the grand entrance portal was rather short; a good sign for an early quest such as this. Though none of them knew what exactly it was that awaited them at the routes end. Within the large foyer two doors would lead down two corridors, combining into another large room at the end. The heroes simply were to travel down the left hall about halfway, where the cellar door was located. Lower beneath the earth, they would retrace their previous steps there, to end up right beneath the foyer where, so it was said, the beast for which they hunted went about its labor. As they perused the map again it only settled then that they were, supposedly, perched right atop the beasts lair at this instant. The hard mud underneath them, the marble steps before them, they marked the place where, should the map be truthful, the monstrous creature lurked in a subterranean lair. Only a few feet of stone and dirt sheltered them from its influence, right at this moment. The Necromancer, as their host had called it. Could such a thing even be possible? Reanimating those that had left the world behind? Clutching them back from the gates of the afterlife into a body that has deceased and decayed? Junia shuddered at the thought. And yet there was a hint of curiosity, which was smothered the moment she became aware of it. Pondering loathsome queries invites loathsome answers. She had learned that lesson before, she would not need to repeat it.

The mighty wooden gate emitted a distinct creaking noise as Reynauld pushed it open. His sword drawn, he was ready to take on the next foe that would cross his path. The remainder of the group kept right behind him, ready for anything that might lunge at them from behind the door. Pistol, blade and baton drawn, they found relieving disappointment as the portal opened completely. As the dim sunlight flooded the extensive hall, nothing could be seen within, that would demand any kind of reaction. Antique wooden furniture littered the room and a few rats scattered quickly, fleeing from the light. The mercenaries gradually advanced inside. "Follow me!" Dismas whispered to his companions as he headed towards the next point of interest. The leftmost door at the back of the room. Both were still very much intact. The frames and the surrounding walls were covered in a thin film of dust. Cobwebs clung to the walls in long strands. Nobody had travelled these halls in a long time. The crew gathered next to the threshold and Dismas slowly pushed the wooden barrier inwards, disturbing the peaceful stagnation of years, if not decades.

The time of comforting non-discoveries had ended. The adventurers found a scenery inside the following hallway that left their eyes widened and their jaws clenched. None made a single noise. The flooding light of the evening sun that had travelled with the crowd had now, at last, been choked entirely in this very hallway. Hampered and obstructed, it could not reach the end, but it did yet manage to illuminate the outlines of the way down - a small doorframe leading to what the map described as the stairway into the cellar - the next step of their journey. It also revealed the monstrous hole right before it, where the floor had collapsed and crumbled downwards, barring both this corridor and the corridor below. This impasse was an unplanned frustration that would take some improvisation to get around - the crew was not prepared for a longer stay. But what justified the abrupt and burdening silence, the single bead of sweat that had formed on the rogues forehead, the abject look of terror on the vestals face, were not the broken cobbles. It was the outline of the thing, standing right behind it. Hunched, breathing heavily, moving slowly. Taller than any man, huge and heavy. A creature like none of them had ever seen before. Standing on two legs it could almost be mistaken for a monstrous malformed human, were it not for the claws growing from its long, spindly hands. A mane of wild, blackened hair sprouted from its head. Its face was not visible as it, thankfully was turned away from the troupe. Every inch of that creatures form spelt wild, lethal energy. Every twitch in its mountainous muscles, every hair on its body. A beast of this world. Regrettably, so the adventurers realized, presumably just the first of many. Dismas carefully closed the door and left the monster alone in the broken hallway.

Apprehensive looks were shared as the implications of the sighting settled. Junia looked around, searched for similar affects within her allies' faces, but found none. The plague doctor was looking right at her and though her eyes and expression were hidden behind that terrifying beaked mask, Junia saw nothing but quiet, disgruntled countenance within her, despite the beast they both had just witnessed. So she did her best to swallow the fear, swallow it all and joined her colleagues around the map they had produced. If any of their hearts were beating as fast as hers, they were hiding it well.

The map confirmed what the heroes were already suspecting; unless they were to uncover a secret corridor, their variety of options was slim indeed. They would have to take a detour through the other corridor. Join the main room at the back, confront whatever creature, curse or calamity awaited and only then reach the way down from the other side - given the clawed demon had not torn them apart by then. Quickly they understood that the floor below would be compromised through the exact same disaster as the one above and the same path around was in order to bypass it. Resigned and frustrated, they resolved to push ahead on their new route. A threefold increase in steps came with a considerable increase in risk of combat or injury. Though with the lack of information they possessed they found this to be their best and only option.

"Never been in a foray so ill-prepared," Dismas gave voice to his frustration, "This is a waste of time." "Then why are you still here?" came a razor-sharp rebuttal from the plague doctor. "What did you say, beakmouth?!" "You signed up for this, highwayman. If complaints are your only strong suit, you should leave now. I for one intend to leave this place victorious" The rogues eyes narrowed to hateful slits, "I intend to leave this place alive. Perish at your own discretion."

"Silence." The crusader's voice bellowed. There was no attempt to conceal his fury at the squabbling soldiers, "we have a task and we will see it through." Even as he spoke to them, he was not looking their way, already advancing to the rightmost door to put their reformed plan in motion. "Keep your foolish quarrelling for later, if you so must."

An irritating glare is all that Dismas caught of the doctor before he followed the knight. Junia had just stood by and watched the scuffle unfold. "Ill-prepared", she scoffed to herself silently. She found it hard to see the rogue's rationale. Where he saw a detriment, she only saw another test. One of many. One of hundreds. And she would see it through.

As the troupe reached the door, the crusader handed out torches from his satchel. "We brought enough light to illuminate this entire fortress. Up to this point we were strangers, but from this point forward, we must be a unit. Until the devil's end, we must fight as one." Residual rage in his speech made the words ring hollow to Paracelsus, though she appreciated the knights conviction. Without hesitation he leaned against the door, his gauntlet on the handle, and motioned his comrades to take up their vigil beside him. Though conflict brewed and motives were nebulous, they were now on the threshold into the abyss. Their discord would spell their undoing. This dark fortress would reward each schism with more grievance and death.

The metal gauntlet descended on the handle and slowly the portal opened. Flickering torchlight trickled into the hallway beyond. Empty and intact, it seemed suitable for their mission. With slow, deliberate steps the team stepped inside. Their eyes darted through the darkness, cognizant of any danger that might lurk within, and then, ever so often, to each other. Aware and conscious of their conflicting views, there was no continuity in their movement. And as they began plumbing this castles depths afraid and illuminated only by crackling torchlight, their hearts and steps fell into a bitter disharmony.