Steam hissed as the magitech suspension and propulsion system gently eased the tram into the station. The last several miles of the journey seemed like a crawl compared to the previous two days, but that was to be expected. The cerulean engines that hauled the links of cabins, platforms, and storage cars along the tracks at lightning speeds burned hot, and it took considerable time to safely slow all that weight without derailing everything. But that was fine, because Braum Blastkettle was a patient dwarf.
He retreated to his private chamber while some of the younger folk remained on the observation platform. Not that the view inside The Underground wasn’t worth seeing, but it was crowded and this wasn’t his first time traveling from Deepholme to Horizon. This afforded him time to clear his mind and think.
One of the first thoughts as he stretched in the luxuriously elf-sized room was how fascinating a people the gnomes were. They made this marvel almost two centuries ago and nothing in the modern world compared. How could an entire race be so brilliant, yet simultaneously insufferably foolish? Take this private suite he’d paid extra for (which was worth every copper of the 2 gold upcharge). One would think the luxury afforded to a first-class ticket would be exclusive to the rich and famous. And if any other race had engineered this mechanical beast, it certainly would have. But not the gnomes.
The only race of people who could, on one hand, alienate themselves to every sapient being by ruining part of the world, and yet on the other, be unthinkably compassionate.
Gnomes were bloody 3 feet tall. They built this marvel for themselves, but made it so everybody else could ride. Not just the dwarves, who took them in, or halflings, who were closest in size; but humans, beastkin, demons, and, though it absolutely made no sense, the elves, too. As such, Braum could stretch his legs like he was resting in his mansion back home.
Home. Chances were he wouldn’t be seeing it any time soon. His wife, Brunhilde, knew it, and she’d given him a proper send-off. Odds were low with dwarven couples, but there were decent chances he’d be gaining another child. Perhaps it would be a daughter this time. If so, he wondered if the upcoming dungeon would be cleared before he needed to return.
This wasn’t the first time since embarking on the 4-day journey that Braum’s mind wandered to the dungeon. A dungeon. A brand new dungeon. He never thought he’d live to see the day a new dungeon was formed…even if the thought of one forming was rather ominous for what it might mean. He had cleared the hardest and deadliest of Chaos’ creations, so he was not unaware of their deeper meanings. Perhaps it was his pessimism speaking, but he wondered what mortal was foolish enough to defy the gods that they deserved immortalization in the form of a cautionary tale.
And who it was that eventually put them down.
In truth, this curiosity burned brightly in Braum, not solely due to the chapter of scholars adjoined to his guild. Even without their mandate to explore all corners of the world and preserve the riches found within (mostly for the glory of the dwarves), Braum would have been eager to set out on this new venture. When he heard it was supposedly a rank 10 dungeon, he nearly ran out the door without so much as collecting his favorite hat. Fortunately, calmer heads prevailed, and he was delayed long enough so that the [Breakers] could assemble properly…though he would have been just fine. He even had a spare hat in his inventory.
It was not often in these later days that the [Breakers] were called upon to survey and scout a dungeon. That had been their primary focus when they were founded, when the Visitors vanished and no one was left to plumb the empty depths. Most of the world had been too afraid of dungeons, unwilling to take the risks necessary to seek them out and tame them. To conquer them. To claim the treasures as their own.
And, Braum supposed, the rest of the world was right to be afraid. Braum had died more times in dungeons than most guilds had members. It took a special sort of someone to face their untimely death head on, and every time Braum met it, willingly or not, he was left shaken and brittle afterward. It had taken him the better part of his 130 years to learn temperance and meditation. To give his thanks to Chaos as well as Helena. Braum did not know what separated himself from the common adventurer and allowed him to pick himself up time and time again, but he knew it was by Chaos’ grace.
Braum was shaken after his first revival. He spent nearly a month recovering in a hermitage devoted to meditation and inner healing, and he emerged changed. He decided to honor each time he fell in battle. He’d gone to a temple of Chaos, sought out their [Shamans], and had them tattoo a tally on his back. When he was younger, Braum scorned the various gods and their followers, but he swore something divine melded with his soul after receiving that mark. As such, Braum returned to the [Shamans] and received another mark every time he died. He was up to 27 now, and the last one was so long ago that the ink was partially faded. Braum wondered if he would be getting another soon.
“Sir?” A youthful voice grumbled from beyond his door. Ah, yes, the reason the [Breakers] were not traveling directly to the new dungeon and instead taking a tram to Horizon.
“Come,” Braum called. The dwarf who entered was only in his 50s, which to the humans they were about to visit might seem quite old, but to a dwarf was hardly out of the irresponsible adolescence. Dwarves were generally very rude, disgusting, and intolerable in their first half a century, unless they had their arrogance beaten out of them early. Something of the sort might have happened with this youngster, because Braum found the boy quite tolerable. At the very least, he hadn’t gotten drunk and picked a fight with every passenger on the tram the first night of the journey. Only half.
“We’ll be arriving soon. I’ve come to confirm the schedule.”
“As you have every night and every morning for the last four days,” Braum chuckled. He couldn’t blame the lad. He was on a mission of utmost secrecy and importance, commanded directly by the king. Not even Braum knew the details, only that the [Breakers] had been ordered to divert their attention from the new dungeon to escort the man to the human capital. His team grumbled fiercely at first, but they were dwarves and complaining is what dwarves do…if they weren’t drinking. Though there wasn’t anything saying they couldn’t do both at once, which many dwarves gladly did.
At first, Braum did wonder why the king had not sent the man directly to Horizon on the Aetherlines, but after consideration, he understood. Perhaps the mission was so secret, not even the king knew all the details. Spending upwards of 400 gold was pricey for an individual and out of the question for an entire guild if it could be helped. All the [Breakers] needed to do was get the lad to the city, and from there he was no longer their problem. How he planned to return, Braum didn’t know, nor did he care to find out. He had a dungeon to conquer.
“You’re right, sir, and truth be told, even I know I’ve worried too much. But you see, sir, it’s the old Queen. I’ve heard she’s higher level than the king. Do you think it’s true? Have you met her?”
“I’d tell ya ta not listen ta rumors,” Braum slipped into dwarven tongue, just in case any of the porters were listening in. “But in this case, they might be right. I only met tha lass once, when she was child. I hear she’s a crafty one. Called the [White Witch], I’m told, and more deceptive than an elf’s ass.”
The youth nodded seriously and tilted his head in thought.
“Are elvish asses deceptive?” He asked seriously. Braum wanted to slap his hand over his face.
“It’s a figure of speech, ya daft-“
BING-BONG
The tram will be pulling into station momentarily. We will be disembarking at platform 7…disembarking at platform 7. Thank you.
BING-BONG
The [Conductor]’s voice rang over the enchanted voice-boxes throughout the tram, and Braum could practically feel the cars groan with relief.
“Never mind,” he switched back into common. “We’ll find out soon enough. Come on, get yourself back to your cabin and get ready.”
The Underground was, perhaps, a little poorly named. While very literal, being little more than a massive tunnel stretching from Horizon all the way to Deepholme, it was not a dank, dark cave. It was practically a city within a city, with its own districts, including housing, businesses, and a thriving culture. However, commerce revolved entirely around the tram. Or trains, as they were called, though the word felt new and novel to Braum. Having experienced them several times, he didn’t really care what they were called so long as they kept on running; they were amazing. But from overpriced lodgings catering to those who didn’t want to climb all the way up into Horizon, to meal stalls, restaurants, and food from every walk of life, The Underground had it all. But their trip had brought them in early afternoon, so the [Breakers] did not need to find a place to sleep, nor did they need to hire carriages to carry all their goods. Not since the entire guild came on this expedition, and they had several [Luggage Mages]. Braum quickly shifted into leader mode and barked instructions, whipping all 150 people under his supervision into shape. Most of them he would send off toward the new dungeon immediately, and only his personal party would escort the young man to the palace.
Whatever this [Courier] was picking up or delivering, it had to be something quite special to receive a rank 10 honor guard of a [Paladin], [Warlock], [Death Knight], [Rogue], and [Druid], none of them under level 1000.
Braum made sure all the deputy leaders knew their tasks and watched the entire raid pile into a wagon train fit for a colonization expedition. Once the carriages were packed and everyone was on board, Braum and his close-knit team gathered around the [Courier] and escorted him to his destination.
Braum had only been to the human palace once, long, long ago. He was but a lad and the world was filled with turmoil during the height of the Age of Upheaval. Little did anyone know it would all be over very soon, but at the time, people were nervous and uncertain. The world was shaken and civilization seemed on the brink of collapse. To combat the unease, the king had thrown a citywide celebration honoring the heroes who risked their lives to fight the rampaging atrocities. The original members of [Daybreak]- real, genuine heroes, all of them -were being paraded around, their accomplishments heralded for all to hear. It was then that Braum first saw the difference between men and gods.
No expense had been spared to decorate the castle, but he remembered being taken by the simplistic beauty of the place beneath the glitz and glitter. This was no common human dwelling built of bricks and planks, but a real fortress, made of stone and carved from the bones of the earth. More than the wealth on display, more than the booze flowing freely down the streets, more than any ostentatious claims, this building had humbled Braum. Taught him that, perhaps, humans had something to offer.
It was a lesson he was glad to learn early.
Now, staring up at the bleached white walls once again, Braum was moved by its beauty. He could tell his companions felt the same, as all good dwarves should when observing the work of a master, and the [Courier] left all his emotions on display. Braum chuckled, gently put his finger to the lad’s chin to close his gaping jaw, and led them all inside.
It did not take long for the group to get recognized. They were used to publicity, and they smiled and waved with practiced ease as people admired them. One benefit of such presence was that their case didn’t take long to be heard. A palace servant quickly ushered them into a lavish waiting room and apologized profusely that they could not be seen immediately. Braum understood. While their errand was expected, their arrival time was unknown. It would be ludicrous to expect a dignitary’s welcome on such short notice.
Ambassador Lumberlog was summoned and came flying into the room several minutes later, flushed and out of breath. Clearly, she had dropped whatever she was doing and came running at once. Braum’s interest was piqued. The woman seemed overjoyed that they’d arrived, but when Braum inquired if she was relieving them of their duty, she shook her head. Apparently they needed to escort the [Courier] all the way to the Queen. She would not elaborate any further, saying only that it was a joyous occasion, one that would go down in history as a triumph for the dwarves. They were not made to wait too long until the servant returned, saying the Queen was ready to see them.
The group was led to an office where several very high-level [Maids] bustled about, sorting papers, brewing tea, and otherwise attending to domestic chores. The room was very busy, and it took a moment to notice a very young-looking human woman sitting behind the desk. Braum paled. He’d met Princess Moeldywn Eutevor once a very long time ago…and she had hardly changed. Her eyes were just as sharp as they were back then, her spirit just as untamed.
Sadly, the same could not be said for everyone in his party. While his actual teammates had the good grace to keep their mouths shut about things they had no business knowing, the young man they just escorted here was, sadly, an idiot. Braum watched as the boy’s eyes fell on the woman behind the desk and his cobweb-encrusted gears started turning. He frowned, looked between Braum and the ambassador, and tugged with irritation on his whisp of a beard.
“Is this some sort of a joke?” The [Courier] asked. “Are we bein’ taken fer fools? This is no queen, the lass is hardly more than a babe.”
This time, Braum really did slap his hand over his face. Fortunately, the famed wrath of the White Witch was not ignited. He glanced up at the ambassador, who was trying to stammer out an apology, but the young woman turned her steely gaze on the [Courier] and pierced him with a stare.
“Who are yeh calling a babe, ya wee manlet?” She answered in their native tongue. “Dinnae get in’ta pissing match with me, shite-fer-brains.”
The [Courier] turned pale and his jaw fell to the floor, while Ambassador Lumberlog burst out with full body laughter. The queen turned to Braum and tilted her head respectfully.
“I apologize,” she said in crisp, aristocratic common. “I’m afraid my dwarvish is a little out of practice.”
Braum struggled to contain his mirth, but with that one sentence, he understood why they were visiting the old queen instead of the king. No current monarch would have such fluid understanding of…unspoken dwarven subtleties.
After all, if you were going to insult someone, it was best to do it to their face.
“Your highness,” Braum bowed respectfully, crossing his arms over his chest and dipping his knees low, “There’s nothing to forgive. I didn’t know I was in such need of a good laugh.”
“I believe we all will be in need of good spirits in the coming days,” the queen grinned. She nodded to a servant, who brought out a small box full of coins and handed them to Braum. It was a nominal tip at best, hardly a scratch compared to what his party could make in a delve, but the sentiment was appreciated. With this, Braum also knew they were being dismissed.
“Good members of [Breakers],” the queen said airily, “I thank you for your service. Rest assured, your time was well spent.”
If it had come from someone else, Braum might have disagreed, but somehow he knew not to underestimate the woman standing before him. One by one, his team all bowed, exchanged the secret greetings one gave to a fellow dwarf of high station with the ambassador, and left.
An amusing skill Braum had learned over his long and storied career was how to pick the correct carriage. Technically, it applied to all modes of transportation, but most people didn’t know how important it was to judge a carriage correctly. They would simply assume that the wealthier an individual was, the more expensive the ride.
In some regards, this was true.
But while nobles with more money than sense would parade themselves around in showy, gaudy things, they were often slower and less comfortable than something discreet. Truly, with all things in life, there was a balance.
Balance crumbled an hour before sunset.
“Braum, are yeh seein’ tha’?” Evra Grimwither gasped.
Braum looked up from the book he was reading and saw the [Warlock] staring in shock out of the window. Braum was so engrossed in his reading that he hardly noticed the passage of time, as it was much darker in the cab than it should have been. But Evra was joined by Rook and Angus as Warren peered over all their heads. Everyone’s skin had taken on a red hue as if the world outside the carriage was on fire. And then the roar happened.
Grrrrrraaaaaaaaughhhhh!!!!!!
The carriage shook violently as the horses neighed and bucked in fright. Braum braced himself, fearing they were about to tip over, but the coachman proved his worth as he managed to soothe and calm the frightened beasts. The shaking stopped and the world seemed to freeze. Nobody wanted to move, let alone breathe. The roar rang out again.
Grrrrrraaaaaaaaughhhhh!!!!!!
This time, even Braum flinched. For the first time in a very long time, he felt vulnerable. Scared. Weak. In a rare moment of weakness, he very nearly cast [Divine Intervention] on himself so he would be impervious to whatever attack was about to come, all safety of his team forgotten. But the feeling of panic quickly passed, leaving him breathing heavily as a light sheen of sweat broke out over his brow. His companions did not fare better. The three dwarves clung tightly to each other while the wolfkin’s tail had gone puffy and rigid. Braum tried to shake himself from the sudden malaise of…whatever just happened, but he found he couldn’t. He glanced at his status and his stomach filled with dread.
[The Destroyer Approaches]
Level: ????
Rank: X
Time Remaining: —:—
Cower in fear, mortal.
The…Destroyer? Unlike the younger members of his team, Braum knew The Destroyer was no mere fairytale. Once, and only once, had he seen it from afar. It was circling the mountains south of Deepholme, though thankfully it did not come any closer to his home. Evra let out another cry and the carriage was plunged into darkness. Braum rushed to the window so he could peer outside, and he looked up just in time to see the underbelly of the largest dragon he had ever seen. For all its size, it moved slowly, like the coming of a deadly storm…and, in truth, that’s exactly what it was.
“The Destroyer,” Angus whispered in his hollow, metallic voice. As a [Death Knight], he was more resistant than most to [Fear], and yet even he was not spared. All five members of the [Breakers] stared transfixed as an entity designed by the gods to right the wrongs of Humanity passed them by like a hunter ignores bugs. The red light of the tinted sky returned as they were no longer under the shadow, but the terror remained.
“It’s making for Horizon,” Warren said, and Braum could see the [Druid]’s ears flatten on his head. The observation was obvious, but the implications were not. However, Braum was likely thinking the same thing: had they caused this? Was it a coincidence that they had been summoned to guard a [Courier] on a mission of greatest secrecy from the king of the dwarves to the shadow ruler of the humans? Were they unwitting instruments in defying the gods? Braum prayed sincerely to Helena that they were not.
“Good gents and lady,” the human driver called to them once he finally managed to calm the horses long enough to keep them from breaking from their reins, “I’m afraid we can go no further tonight. The animals are too spooked. Normally I’d never make a passenger delay their trip like this, but…it’d be dangerous to try to go any further.”
“I think, given the circumstances, that’s reasonable,” Braum found himself saying. “We’re no strangers to roughing it. One night in a rank one zone won’t make a difference to us.”
The [Breakers] set up camp and helped the flustered and jittery man calm his nerves. As much as they had been affected by the sudden debuff, the driver had it far, far worse. And he wasn’t lying about the horses, either. The man had used some sort of skill to tranquilize them, but they were lying in a fretful, uneasy sleep, one the man soon shared as soon as he was locked safely inside the carriage. He’d tried to insist that Braum and his team sleep inside, but they’d laughed it off, telling the man they were much better suited for keeping watch than he was. Not that they ended up needing it, as after several hours, the red hue tinting the sky vanished, as did The Destroyer’s debuff, and the world fell into an uneasy silence. Few insects sang out into the night and no monsters dared approach. Everything seemed content to hide away in their dens.
Morning came, and though the [Breakers] could have easily traveled the rest of the way to their destination on foot, they remained to guard the poor coachman. He apologized profusely for his cowardice, but again Braum waved his hand and assured the man no harm was done. That said, everyone was eager to get back on the road and finish the journey, the least of which were the horses.
“So this is Abbyton?” Angus asked in his hollow voice. “Charming.”
As a [Death Knight], somebody who wasn’t really alive but couldn’t be called dead, it was hard to track his emotions sometimes. Braum had known the man long enough to tell he was being sincere, even if it sounded like he wanted to spit on somebody’s grave.
Braum paid their driver and joined his teammates in getting a good look around. Abbyton was exactly as he envisioned it. A small, quiet village in the middle of the woods, surrounded by harmless monsters barely more dangerous than a [Critter]. Braum watched as early risers began to go about their days, carrying bundles of clothes to be washed or small sacks of tools or goods on their way to their work. He felt a small smile creeping up his lips. These were exactly the types of people worth fighting for. Simple, defenseless people, living peaceful lives in whatever ways the gods saw fit to provide. It was a shame that, in many ways, that lifestyle was about to change. Whether they liked it or not, this small town was adjacent to a brand new dungeon, and progress would not be denied. Even Braum, level 1004, could do nothing to halt the march of greed, adventure, or most of all, time.
The [Breakers] made their way down sleepy streets toward the gathering of tents on the outskirts of town by the treeline. As expected, word had spread that a dungeon was opening soon once the Adventurers’ Guild cleared it to the public, and many smaller teams had followed the forward scouts to establish a base.
More than just “small” teams, Braum noted as he spied the various banners floating in the wind. [Starfall] and [Paradigm] he recognized and expected. The [Post Office] he did not. This was a serious endeavor indeed if Andrini sent his [Couriers] here to train. At least a dozen other flags he did not recognize fluttered in the breeze, but any thought of discovering who they belonged to died when he saw the image of a white shield cracked in two, imposed over a black flag.
Home.
Or at least, home away from home, for as long as it took for them to break this dungeon in half and conquer all its depths. Braum expected a warm welcome as he and the team strode into camp, but the air was heavy and subdued.
“Ahch,” Gracia, one of the secretaries, said in dwarven upon seeing the guildmaster of the [Breakers] step inside the boundaries of their tents. “About bloody time yeh got here. Any longer an’ tha lads would ha’ started takin’ bets if you lot got eaten by tha dragon.”
“So you saw it too, did you?” Braum said, for lack of anything better to say.
“Saw it? Saw it?” the woman repeated. “Guildmaster, it flew right over us. I just about shat a brick when it happened.”
“Aye,” one of the nearby clerks the guild employed called out jovially, “If we’d ha’ gathered them all, we’d ha’ ourselves a better building than this tent!”
“Stuff it, O’Breins!” the woman yelled back hotly, “Or they’ll be calling you ‘O’Dumb’ on account of me slapping you silly!”
“Well,” Braum chuckled, “It’s good to see not all morale is lost.”
“Boss,” one of the deputy leaders marched up, “It was rough. But we got camp set up, just like you asked.”
“Good,” Braum nodded. He glanced at the man, one of the few humans in the mostly dwarven guild, and noticed the deep circles under his eyes. The [Breakers], for all that they were the premier progression and raiding guild, were not the largest. They were also very skewed in terms of their members’ levels. Yes, their combat potential was incredibly high, but that was tempered by the army of support staff and logistical workers gathered under their banner. Not all of the other guilds understood the value of such specialized staff, but that was their problem, not his.
What that meant was his deputies exhausted themselves to keep the weaker members safe and secure. Braum smiled in satisfaction; as much as he wanted to get neck deep into the nitty-gritty of the newest dungeon, none of it was worth the sanity or well-being of his staff. They were like family to him, which was another reason they never grew too large. If a person was not compatible with him or his team, they weren’t a fit for the [Breakers]. If they had prejudice against [Dark Knights] for being one step removed from undead, or [Warlocks] for summoning fel creatures that were notorious for making bargains with powers they could not control, or if they took issue with being scolded by a gruff wolfkin [Druid] for not apologizing to the grass they walked on….
Actually, Braum took issue with that last one, too. Braum had never met a [Druid] that wasn’t weird about nature in some way.
But now that he’d arrived at camp, it was time to make his rounds and make his presence known.
“Maritus, why don’t you show me around?” Braum asked, loud enough for everyone around to hear. Some wouldn’t appreciate a surprise visit from the top boss, but having a [Paladin] moving through a camp of beleaguered people helped in more ways than one. It was part of their holy skillset, passively inspiring people and bringing hope. It could be a double-edged sword if people who trusted him blindly saw him fall in battle. Fortunately, he wouldn’t have such problems with his team; they knew him deeper than that.
Maritus was also an aspiring [Paladin], so he was quick to pick up on the hint. The two spent the rest of the morning visiting each and every one of their members, from the lowest of the low to the cream of the crop. The most valiant [Warrior] to the innocuous [Scribe]. After lunch, when Braum was resting in his tent, a tall human man with a massive crossbow strapped to his back was brought before him.
“An [Arbalist], eh?” Braum said as he stood up. Braum barely came to the tall man’s chest, but he stuck his hand out fearlessly in greeting. Likewise, the human showed promise by not looking down on a dwarf because of his size, and met the handshake with a firm grip of his own.
“Clark Higgins,” the [Arbalist] said cheerily. “And you must be Braum Blastkettle. I’ve read so much about you, I hope you’ll forgive me for being a little giddy.”
“Don’t believe everything you read,” Braum said with a slightly arrogant nod, a dash of cheek. “I assure you; the stories are more impressive in person than they are on paper.”
“Ha!” Clark laughed. “I see! So that’s how it is. Well, Mr. Blastkettle, [Breaker of Dungeons], I hope you’re ready to spin another yarn to add to your list of tall tales.”
“Indeed! My team is eager to begin. With any luck, either this afternoon or tonight I’d like to hunt down a member of the advanced scouts. See what there is to see, so to speak.”
“What a coincidence,” Clark grinned, showing it was not, in fact, coincidental. “I just so happen to fit that bill. I heard the [Breakers] arrived and wanted to head you off before anything else can develop.”
“Has something happened?” Braum asked with a sharp eye. “My guild isn’t fully settled, but we can hasten preparations if need be.”
“No, at the moment we’re fine,” Clark shook his head. “But I think it might be wise to give you a…slightly detached version of events, before you get the full guild report.”
“Those are dangerous words, son,” Braum said. He wasn’t accusing Clark of anything, but there was a reason official guild reports were official. To weed out trickery and deception. If anything, the [Breakers] were supposed to be the ones creating those reports, and it was dicey waters trying to influence their say.
“You won’t be hearing anything from me,” Clark quickly raised his hands. “But I thought you might like to know that a group already snuck into the dungeon.”
“Is that so?” Braum said. He wasn’t surprised. Without a fully regulated checkpoint leading to the entrance, it was impossible to keep people out. He’d have to find out the terrain around the portal and see what sort of location it was in. “While it won’t affect the work we do once we start, I might as well hear what they have to say. Presumably, they’re waiting at the entrance?”
“Actually, no,” Clark said. Something in the way the man’s voice grew suddenly serious made Braum do a double take. The human was shaking his head sadly, and understanding dawned on Braum. “We’ll be headed to the abbey. They’re recovering in the respawn chamber.”