Forgotten Dungeon

Charles Blueflame

My bitter laugh echoed in the tent, Agnes my only witness. It took me a few solid minutes to calm down and even then my eyes were still full of hatred.

“These bastards… They’re simply telling us to die!” I shouted, my teeth clenched, gums bleeding. It was clear that the Royal Army already considered this outpost a lost cause, thus ordering us to deal the most damage possible to the advancing horde. And then graciously perish, becoming silent martyrs. For humanity. For the greater good.

“Use whatever you can use, eh?” My mumble disappeared in the stale air, as the princess quickly closed the tent’s flap and drifted nearby.

“Yes. That’s what the message said.”

“Then I’ll do just that! I’ll fight like a cornered rat if needed and survive!” My heated speech seemed to rouse something in Agnes’ eye, but she soon returned to the morose visage from before. Noticing this I asked in a flat tone. “What about you? Will you stay?” There was no way in hell that our benevolent king would leave his progeny to the wolves. All of us were equal in the face of the ultimate sacrifice, as taught by the Kingdom, but some were a bit more equal than others.

“Two members of the Hawks appeared before me today. Their orders stated that I was to be transferred back to the capital city.” There was muted anger in her eyes. It was one of those rare situations where the country orders couldn’t be ignored by the rowdy princess. The mention of the kingdom’s secret police unknowingly turned my thoughts to late Tinna’s fate. Or, more importantly, the siblings she so happily described before. Considering the quality of her talent they also should show promise… Gathering them up, if possible, would yield me some nice warrior material. I decided to follow this train of thought when I have a chance. Later. My mind switched gears, focusing on the present.

“Alone?” I asked after a second of hesitation.

“I-I can take a few people with me. Lone Mountain, Eve, Peter… you?” She asked, her voice getting quieter and quieter as she became aware of the answer.

“I can’t.” My words were sharp and clear.

“Your brothers.”

“Yes.” I exhaled heavily. Being a noble sure beat being a simple commoner, but we had our own share of troubles. “Would I return alone, after abandoning the outpost, leaving the members of our Order to die…” I smirked. “Both my head and the rights to this new dungeon would fall in their hands.” This was a fate much worse than death. I was always called a black sheep, a disgrace to the Blueflame family. Tucked in the corner of a useless Order dedicated to taking care of new dungeons... years after the last one appeared. To return to that powerlessness, to those grey days of boredom, languid hours of simply existing… No. I refuse! This is my only chance at greatness and they would have to pry it from my cold, dead hands!

“I see…” She swallowed hard, her head suddenly landing on my shoulder. My first reaction was to escape, but I was already caught and greedily hugged. Helplessly captured, I could only listen to the fuming princess’ rant.

“There was no way for me to win. Not fair! I would try otherwise… but both of them were in their thirties.” I knew she was talking about levels, not their age. “And, what’s worse, they’re experienced! A rogue and mage working together are nothing to scoff at. Especially because I don’t really know anything about their abilities. It makes me angry. Angry, you hear!” She banged on the table with her free hand. “I barely managed to achieve my twentieth level after this disaster. This is so unfair...”

“A new class, then?” I murmured, the heat of her body scrambling my thoughts.

“Yes. A Valkyrie. That’s how it was called I think.” Her eyes scanned through the empty air, clearly reading an invisible menu. “It’s still a warrior class, with a curious addition. It allows me to summon ghostly helpers. Many kinds.“ She scratched her head. ”There is a cooldown and they’re a bit meh, but otherwise it's a very useful ability. A perfect support skill for solo delving, I can now detect traps, heal or even attack from afar...” She spoke, her voice getting mellower with time. Her breath also grew deeper and longer. Soon I felt like there was a little bird napping nearby. She instantly shifted to a lap pillow, her hand still firmly clutching my clothes, our fingers intertwining.

“Why are you telling me this?” I frowned, breaking the calm atmosphere. I couldn’t move my body, but it didn’t stop me from turning my face in her direction, our eyes locked in the contest of wills. “You know that sharing this kind of information could easily lead to your demise!” I hissed. “There are always people listening! Please, be reasonable, Agnes!” My class jumped up two more levels, even considering how disastrous was our last expedition. I had mixed feelings about that, but experience was experience no matter how it was gained. And, unlike the princess, I wasn’t too keen on sharing such sensitive data. Even with people I trusted.

Her only answer was a defiant stare. It would be a bit more intimidating were she not settled down on my lap, gazing upwards.

The air stalled, a precarious balance of our body heat and silence continuing for a long moment... until a short cough forced us apart. We jumped back as something stung us, our jumbled figures suddenly free. Adam, my silver-haired butler, was standing awkwardly in the entrance, staring at us with an uneasy expression. At least he had enough composure to close the flap immediately after entering.

In an ordinary noble household, the things he already saw would be a death penalty. A perfect way to silence him permanently. The tryst between a noble and the royal princess noticed by a mere servant? Unthinkable. Thankfully for him, both of us knew and trusted the butler. Agnes was acquainted with him for a long time, while for me Adam was pretty much a surrogate parent. My true father was after all too busy with ruling and political intrigue to deal with something as mundane as personally raising his sons. The task was delegated to the then young and energetic servant and we were together through thick and thin ever since.

I slowly let go of Agnes' hand, which unknowingly ended up in mine and stood up, a false smile full of bravado emerging on my face.

“Adam! It’s good that you’re here, old man!” I bellowed, trying to keep my embarrassment under control. It was important to keep up appearances. “Gather every influential individual in the outpost, we need to have a meeting considering the Fallen Tribes invasion…” I stopped talking, seeing the hastily paling servant.

“People weren’t informed?” I asked the princess.

“No, of course not. We’re trying to avoid panic. That and the scouts claim the army will take about a week, even two to arrive. We’re not really pressed for time. Preparations can still be completed. Apparently, the same couldn’t be told about the other forts.”

“So we’re stuck dealing with the second wave, while they whittle the real invasion down?” I scratched my head. Not a bad role. If we manage to survive. The problem lies elsewhere. ”The scouts claim that the invaders are numbering a measly thousand. They’re lying.” I spoke viciously.

“What? How do you know that?”

“You know, I had a lot of free time as the head of the Order of Fates Untold.” My mouth twisted in disgust, remembering these times. “Even our name sounds useless.” A sigh escaped my mouth. “One of the few interesting activities I could engage in was reading the Kingdom’s forces training manuals. Out of these books, there were ones about the scouts, the exterminator teams, mage squads, using adventurers… and some more. Not important.” I paused for a moment. ”Anyway - The scouts are required to lower the predicted amount of spotted enemies by a half or more in order to not damage the defending troop's morale.” I cited an excerpt with a wry smile.

“So they have one and a half thousand troops?” Agnes spoke with her green eyes wide open. She was used to one on one duels, not massive clusterfucks of hundreds that battles usually turned out to be. At least Geinard Kingdom battles.

“I would hardly call them soldiers, but yes, you’re not wrong. Maybe even more.” I turned back to my petrified servant. ”Ignore the earlier order. I want you to find a soldier commanding the local forces, leader of the Adventurers Guild vagabonds, the strongest Mage available, preferably male, and the representative for the civilian rabble.” I stopped to think for a second. ”And also one of the wealthier merchants. It wouldn’t do if they were to be left completely in the dark.” My head turned back to the princess. “I assume that you’ll attend, if only as an advisor?” I asked and Agnes smiled in response.

“Yes. It should not be a problem. I have to depart today, but an hour or two of delay is still acceptable. Maybe even more. We have at least a week until the horde arrives. According to the scouts.” Her eyes turned defiant once again. “After all, it would be potentially disastrous for members of the Hawks to be seen manhandling a princess.”

“Even if we’re already dead in the eyes of monarchy?” I asked a dangerous question.

“There are always survivors, Charles.” Her blinding smile assured me that Agnes would appear on our little war council. One way or another.

She departed immediately and as soon as she left the tent one of the Hawks had emerged from the nearby shadows. A bodyguard. He was a tall, muscular warrior with brown hair and a sharp face. His eyes were a bit sunken in, creating a tired, sleepy impression. There was grace hidden in his effortless moves, as he matched his speed to the princess’ large strides.

This type of movement was usually associated with rogues. I wondered where the mage-Hawk disappeared to. It was strange, the one who was supposed to stalk the darkness was instead strolling in the open. And the other, usually gaudy and prideful was instead hiding somewhere.

Interesting, but not important at the moment. I moved back to the tent and started my preparations. A shower, quick breakfast, then changing clothes into something more wholesome. The time flew by and an hour later another servant arrived with the information that everything was ready.

I moved out.

The light blinded me for a second until my eyes adapted. I looked around and started walking towards my destination.

The outpost surrounding the dungeon entrance wasn’t really that big. Not much time had passed since its inception and the most popular type of building was still a tent. They varied in size and shape, showing their owner's wealth and creativity, yet were still dwarfed by the military structures made out of wood.

The silvery planks used in their construction weren’t ordinary stuff tirelessly cut and scavenged from the surrounding vegetation. Our alchemists and mages already understood most of the weird flora’s qualities after the countless tests. With them came the discovery that this wood - I hesitated to call it that - was pretty much fireproof and much more durable than materials gathered from ordinary trees. Not beating the stone as a building block, but still... Then there was an unbelievable speed at which it grew back and denied other plants either water or light.

Farmers were already complaining that planting the vegetables not native to the silver forest soil was going pretty badly. The monstrous spread aside at least no metallic tree grew outside the circle of purified mana stretching around the outpost and the dungeon.

Our food situation was pretty bad, at least sustainability-wise, but adding the supplies that already arrived with the earlier caravans there was a low chance of starvation. We had about 200 warriors and mages, either hailing from my Order, serving in the army, or working as a part of the Adventurers Guild. Besides them, about four hundred-ish people - farmers, woodcutters, hunters, shepherds, cooks et cetera were a part of the first batch of civilians to arrive at our outpost, but similarly - a burden to be considered in times of war.

While I debated the viability of my plans our meeting place already appeared before my eyes. I sped up and walked inside a large tent decorated with green and brown, standard military colors. Inside, a few of the most important policymakers were sitting around a wooden table. There were a few empty chairs strewn about, a large candelabra already lit in the middle. It was still morning! I frowned for a moment, lamenting the waste, but decided to focus on the important tasks.

And so I spoke.

“As you probably know, my name is Charles Blueflame and I am a military commander of the Order of Fates Untold residing in this outpost. I asked all of you here to discuss an emergency that has appeared and to devise countermeasures. There is much to discuss and plan for.” I nodded sharply to the gathered and continued without stopping. “First order of business. Introductions. As this is a hastily thrown meeting please give a few words about your position, name, and rank, if applicable.” I looked around. “No objections? Good. Let’s start with a person known to everybody present. Princess Agnes Geinard, royalty, adventurer and a leader.” I smiled, letting the rest of the table stand up at attention after hearing my words.

I noticed that Agnes sat on the best looking chair, nodding slightly to the surrounding people in response to my speech. Her current noble behavior reminded me of a cold mask that she always donned in public. Unlike earlier, she wore her light armor and traveling clothes, clearly ready to leave as soon as our meeting finished.

“Gentlemen.” She rose for a second and every person in the room froze. Each of them understood at this very moment that the contents of this meeting were going to be something really important.

Agnes hummed quietly, returning to her seat, a sharp-faced rogue standing behind her, his sleepy eyes scanning the room. On his chest, a badge depicting bird with widely spread wings made it known that he was a member of the Hawks, Geinard Kingdom secret police. An ungodly amount of daggers, or rather their handles, were sticking out from various parts of his attire. The black armor and pants he wore looked worn, but pricey, a complimenting set with his leather boots.

The person sitting closest to her was a muscular soldier, a nasty scar on his face showing certain battle experience. He wore his epaulets with pride. A captain, huh. Seeing him as the highest-ranked army representative meant one of two things - either the earlier battles were intense enough to cull the rest, or he was left behind by his superiors.

Seeing a down-to-the-earth commander like him was a positive surprise. I knew how bad the noble leaders tended to be. The plan I was concocting could be described as unusual in the best case. Suicidal in the worst.

Seeing the sudden shift of attention the man in question coughed and stood up from his seat.

“Captain Molan Duree, temporary commander of Royal Army detachment.” He saluted swiftly and sat down, clearly happy to be out of the picture.

In the next seat, a rough and hairy man was fighting with the tiredness, his random assortment of weapons and armor clearly showing Adventurers Guild membership. Including the somewhat rusty cleaver, he wore on his belt. His long black hair trembled each time he stifled a yawn… at least he didn’t smell. These unruly monster hunters were infamous for their unwillingness when it came to not caring about the authority or breaking the local laws.

I intended to fully make use of this quality.

Looking around the dark-haired man stood up, smiling.

“Call me Lois. Rusty Blade Lois is my full moniker, but I don’t expect anybody here to use it.”

“Guild Master Lois, then?” I asked.

“I guess so. The old man bit the dust and since I’m next in line…” He scratched his head, red, tired eyes peering from behind unruly hair. “It doesn’t feel real.” Saying this he returned back to his seat.

The next person had a heavy smell of herbs wafting around him, wore a conservative robe, a staff and weird, helmet-like head armor. Various symbols were strewn on the dark violet clothing, symbolizing power, luck, and nature. A few locks of grey hair escaped from under the material and piercingly blue eyes stared accusingly at every person present.

“Master Vincent.” Whispered Adam. “He wasn’t very happy that I dragged him back here from his experiments.”

I simply nodded and turned my gaze towards the man in question. Seeing this he sighed audibly and stood up.

“My name is Vincent and I really hope that you can explain this… barbarism.” He snorted and his gaze pierced my butler, making him twitch. “Otherwise there will be… consequences.” He sat down, ignoring the presence of royalty.

In the corner of the eye, I saw the Hawk’s rogue twitching angrily, but a single, nearly silent no stopped him in his tracks. Seeing this I bowed slightly towards Agnes, a small dismissive glance being her answer.

We all wear masks. I mused, waiting for the next person. Only two more were left. Unlike their predecessors, they were clearly overwhelmed and felt out of place.

One of them had a large build with bright eyes and a bald head. His hands clearly had signs of hard labor and while he wore his best clothing - a strange combination of blue leather pants and white cotton shirt it was clear that he was very nervous. Sensing the appraising eyes he swallowed hard while trying to stand up.

Trying being operative word, as he hit the wooden table with his leg, hissing in visible pain. Then, forcing himself to stand, he started to speak.

“Tom is my name, d-dear lords and ladies. I am a l-leader of the carpenter team and as such the civilians r-representative.” He bowed deeply, his bald head smoothly polished. “I was told that issues of great importance will be discussed here.” He gulped audibly. “And as such, I was told to r-retell them my neighbors’ and colleagues.” He bowed once again and sat down, clearly happy that his speech wasn’t stopped. Or that he didn’t have to leave. A peasant in the company of noblemen and even royalty. What a time to be alive…

The last one was a slim and delicate young man with just enough gold on his person to pass for a noble. He wore strange, skin-tight clothing made from monster’s leather. Normally such brown attire would be seen as humble, but knowing the price of any monster’s material might change that impression. His eyes gazed upon the rest of the gathering, while he unconsciously played with one of his rings - depicting a snake eating its own tail. On his head, a circular cap with a feather was sitting, mostly covering unruly bronze hair.

Seeing our gazes he coughed in embarrassment and stood up.

“Merchant Outeles Kamap, from the Dross Republic is pleased to make acquaintances.” He also bowed deeply, but with a different feel than his predecessor. I sighed quietly, internally yelling at Adam. Why did you get a foreigner?! This is a Geinard’s Kingdom affair?!

“I hope that you can explain the sudden summons, sir Charles. This humble merchant has a lot to do around the new dungeon.” Despite sounding humble I could sense the irritation at my request to talk.

I guess he was thinking that the Order wanted to implement some policy, maybe a tax? And just to spite his small-scale thinking I started with a bomb.

“According to the Kingdom’s scouts, we have about two weeks before a large army of Fallen Tribes goblins and orcs arrive at our location.” I inhaled. “We have no reinforcements, an order to defend this position and our enemies have numerical superiority. At least five to one.” A smile emerged on my lips.

“Now. Who has any suggestions as to how to survive this deathtrap?”

I stared at them for a long while and as soon as they understood that it wasn’t a distasteful joke all hell broke loose.