Chapter 430 – Options
“What do you have?” Professor Gabriel Dixon asked as he ran up to the top of the Gate, by the inner door. Technically into the System Interdiction Field, but that didn’t matter right now. What mattered is getting information. There was no way he could have justified camping out at the Gatehouse, waiting for news. Not with his other responsibilities. Which is why he’d left instructions at the Gatehouse to call him night or day as soon as they had something to report.
It had been a long week since Lord Kuronoth had opened the portal and unleashed an army of slimes into Orlando. He’d released another army of the things, three times the size of the first one, just after dawn on the third day, when it became clear that the zombies were not swarming the slimes and shambling to their own deaths. The slimes did not count as ‘life’ enough for them, most likely.
Either way, he’d gotten a report twenty minutes ago, saying there was something strange happening in the zone. Naturally, he’d thrown some clothes on, and rushed over as quickly as possible. The report didn’t suggest a pulse of power, like had been reported by the Army and Adventurers around Boca Raton, so the Broken Dungeon likely wasn’t dead yet. But ‘strange lights’ was definitely something he needed to hear about.
Katie Allen, a Level 23 Ranger / Sharpshooter, handed him a pair of binoculars enchanted with Nightvision. “Lights inside the zone. Moving. Look like headlights.”
Gabriel looked through the binoculars, and it took him a moment to adjust to the shades of green that the Nightvision enchantment cast everything in. However, despite it being dark out, with only a crescent moon, he could make out what looked like ten golf carts, crawling along two abreast at barely more than a person’s walking speed, with what looked like a small army of skeletons marching in formation around them. And the lights were definitely headlights. But how?
“I see why you called me.”
“Yup,” Katie nodded. “The skeletons definitely don’t have enough meat on the bones to be zombies, and while I can’t say for certain about the fleshy ones in the carts, we’ve never seen any of the zombies drive, much less drive in formation. I think we have survivors.”
Gabriel could hear the wonder in her voice, and he didn’t blame her. Five years inside the Orlando Wall, surrounded by zombies that wanted to eat everyone living? And they were still alive? The very idea beggared belief. Still, he wasn’t going to just assume that these people were what they appeared to be, not until he had some clarification. “Prepare the defenses, but also prepare to open the gate. Ready either way.”
“Already done. Figured you’d say something like that. Probably need to make some calls now, right?”
“You know me too well, Katie,” Gabriel chuckled, before heading back out of the Field. He did indeed have calls to make.
An hour later, Cerys and Brooke Wright were just pulling up to the Gatehouse. They’d driven up as soon as he called. More faculty and students from the Adventuring Studies department were here, as well, since crisis management was one of the skills taught in the program.
And then, he felt a rush of power as Lord Kuronoth made his presence felt, a portal opening where the core spike had been planted. Out walked the God of Dungeons, along with Shannon Reed, the High Priestess who looked over the seventh floor of the Exotic Pleasures dungeon. Gabriel watched as she called out to the goddess Freyja, and warm light spread over everyone here. A blessing to resist disease and ward off the attacks of the undead.
A horn sounded over the gate. The signal to open, no threat. Katie must have been satisfied that, whoever these people were, they were not zombies. And, with the firepower they had assembled outside the Gate, they could handle things if the people turned hostile, regardless.
Soon enough, the survivors came into view. At the head of the column was a figure in a black hooded robe, with a staff of black wood. Fingers of bone gripped the staff, and blue orbs shone out from under the hood, where eyes should have been. The figure did not walk, like the other undead, but rode upon a skeletal warhorse clad in black armor, with fiery blue eyes. On the figure’s shoulder sat a raven with blue lights for eyes, and shadows for a body. The skeletons, as well as the people on the carts, were all dressed in ragged clothes and wearing armor and holding weapons that looked scavenged from whatever they could find. Gabriel recognized it as the work of craftsmen who lacked proper tools and materials. Even a shoddy weapon made from whatever you could find was better than nothing, after all.
As the robed figure stepped through the Gate, Lord Kuronoth spoke. “Estefania Berrios Caraballo, Greater Lich, Bonelord Necromancer, and Deathspeaker Scholar. You have done well to survive this long in a broken dungeon, cut off from all reinforcement or rescue. Indeed, it was thought that all who did not escape the city had perished long ago, and risen as the undead.”
“Survive?” Gabriel could hear the bitterness in the lich’s voice clearly, as she pulled back her hood to reveal a skull, with icy blue fire in place of eyes. “If you call being a bunch of bones surviving. But there were two hundred of us, at the beginning, after the Dire Wasps and the zombies. Now, there’s forty-three, and four are kids, born after the System came. But there were always too many zombies for us to risk trying for this gate before. They may not react to us as strongly, now that all the mortals are [Deathtouched], but if one reacts, then it will draw all the others, and we would have been swarmed. And the groups coming from the gate never ventured far enough for us to try and join up with them.”
Gabriel winced at that. “As the one in charge of those expeditions, I’m sorry to hear that. We did not know there were any survivors. There’s been no contact since the first week after the System turned on. The last attempt at rescuing people from inside the wall ended when one of the survivors turned inside the helicopter, and caused it to crash.”
Estefania shook her head. “I do not blame you. We had no radio, no way to communicate. And our wards likely kept casual scrying from spotting us, since they were designed to hide our sanctuary from the horde.”
Lord Kuronoth swept his gaze over the mix of surviving mortals as they got out of the golf carts, and moved to stand with the lich. Gabriel figured that made sense. She was undoubtedly the reason they were still alive, after all, since the zombies did not hunt other undead, as a rule. From the looks of things, they were mostly humans, though an Elf Druid and Dwarf Priest looked to be the lich’s lieutenants.
“You are all fortunate. Though all of you who are still mortal are now Deathtouched versions of your races, none of you has become bound to the Broken Dungeon. You have passed through the trial, not unscathed, but triumphant all the same. Enduring over a hopeless trial is one form of Domination, the utter refusal to lie down and accept one’s fate. It would have been easy for you to give in to despair. Few would have blamed you, when it looked as though all hope was lost. But you endured, and you gathered your strength, and you did not let the Broken Dungeon win. And for this, I honor you.”
Lord Kuronoth did not raise his voice, but everyone in the area heard him clearly, and felt his words in their very bones. The survivors stood a bit straighter under the praise, their eyes shining a bit brighter in the lights of the Gate. But the dark god was not finished speaking.
“One of my devotees is already speaking with the Grandmaster of the American Adventurers Guild. By the morning, there will be people here to help you adjust, and reenter civilization. Grandmaster Miguel Sanchez assures me that the Guild will outfit you with clean clothes, and basic equipment appropriate for your level and classes. It will not be an easy road for you, but I have the utmost confidence that you will not allow that challenge to defeat you, not after having dominated the one you have already faced.”
The god turned his attention to the lich, now. “As for you, Señorita Caraballo, things will be much more difficult for you. You have proven yourself against the trials you have faced, but mortals have an instinctive fear of death, and the undead. Your comrades may be inured to your presence, and that of your forces, but most are not so comfortable around reminders of their own mortality. It is a simple truth that you are not going to find a warm welcome in most places. However, there are options, if you would hear them.”
“Figures,” the lich grumbled, “even a god is telling me that I’ve gone from getting fucked to being screwed. At least you’re honest enough to say it up front.”
Lord Kuronoth chuckled at that. “You’ll find that I have a reputation for speaking only the truth, even if the truth I speak is not the truth others hear. And I would not discredit your efforts at having come this far, under such conditions, by trying to soften the blow, or give you false hope. The mortals will be reluctant to accept you, as you are. That is just a fact. However, that does not mean you are without possibilities.”
“What kind of possibilities?”
“You have five paths before you, Señorita. The first is reclusion, retreating to an isolated area. Perhaps creating a tower for yourself. With the internet, a scribe can do a great deal of work without leaving their home, and interacting online would bypass the aversion most mortals have to the undead, other than the ‘pretty’ ones, like vampires. Also, a lich does not need food to survive, so you have fewer demands upon your wallet.”
“Becoming a hermit author or chronically online chatter does not sound like ‘living’ to me.”
“Indeed,” Lord Kuronoth nodded. “The second path is one of the Adventurer. Either on your own, or as part of a team, your talents, and the immunities undeath provides you, would be very useful for Adventurers seeking greater challenges. And Adventurers would be quicker to accept you as one of their own, at least those who are working alongside you. Fighting side by side tends to do that, after all.”
“That sounds a bit better,” Estefania nodded. “But I would hear the other options before making a decision.”
“The third path is academia. More than one university would be eager to offer you a scholarship to study magic, or whatever you wished, in their institution, if they could study you in turn. A powerful undead spellcaster who is not actively hostile to all life is not something that comes along with any frequency, and those who would rather understand undeath, than stamp it out with religious fervor, would be very eager to make your acquaintance.”
Gabriel cleared his throat, and said, “Professor Gabriel Dixon, head of the Adventuring Studies department for the University of Central Florida. I can tell you that my department will be happy to have you, Ms. Caraballo. I’m sure I can get the Dean to waive tuition in return for being a guest lecturer and teacher’s assistant. Your experience inside the wall would be invaluable for our students.” He paused, and said, “And the magic researchers would probably have a lot of questions for you.”
Estefania shook her head, and Gabriel got the feeling she’d be grimacing, if she still had flesh to make the expression. “No offense, Professor, but I don’t know if I’m ready to become anyone’s test subject, and I graduated with a literature degree from the University of Puerto Rico. But I will consider it.”
Lord Kuronoth nodded once. “I would advise you to consider your choices, whatever you do. As for the fourth path open to you, Orlando will soon be cleansed of the zombies, the slimes, and the Broken Dungeon. A powerful undead helping to secure the area would help in the reconstruction. You might end up Queen of the City in all but name.”
The lich visibly shuddered at that. “No! I’ve been a leader long enough. I never wanted to lead the enclave, but everyone started looking to me, and there wasn’t anyone better suited.”
“Which just means you’re better suited to it than most who would seek such a position. But if those do not entice, there is always the fifth path. You can travel for a while, see more of this world, and the others, as you decide what you want to do. The portals I have created have connected the world in ways you would not imagine. Someone can walk from New York to San Juan in minutes, or go from London to Beijing in less time than it would take to eat a meal.”
Estafina nodded slowly. “I think that is best. I need to go home, and let my family know I’m, well, not alive, but not dead, either. If they’re still around.”