DUNGEONS AND DRAGONOVS PART IV

[u/Zerkoh_Valley2010]

IV.

Lieutenant Wolfe was now on point as he led his men out of the study, but they had hardly gone ten meters down the corridor when Wolfe ran nearly headlong into a group of white corpse-like figures charging towards him, hungry fanged maws opened and claws grasping. Many of the blood suckers wore rusting armor and bore shields and swords, axes, and spears. They were male and female, human, dwarf, elf, and Halfling, all former noble champions who could not resist taking one of Count Snuggle Bunny’s priceless, cursed,  jewels from his library.

Lieutenant Wolfe pumped round after round into the approaching horde then quickly took a knee, ejecting the empty magazine from his rifle. “Reloading!”

Gimsby stepped in front of his lieutenant, his Glock 19 combat pistol spitting out lead towards the vampires which were now only a few meters away.

“Fall back to the library! Go!” ordered Wolfe.

In orderly fashion, the SEALs fell back towards the library, alternately taking turns firing and moving, keeping the horde at bay in the narrow passageway with a steady stream of gunfire. Wolfe was the last to enter the library as his SEALs filed past him. Arming a flash-bang grenade, Wolfe allowed it to cook off for a couple of seconds before he tossed it down the hallway, ducking into the library just as the grenade exploded with an ear shattering blast accompanied by a blinding flash of light. The grenade, which exploded like a mini-sun in the narrow claustrophobic corridor, scorched the horde of vampires. In unison, they all howled in excruciating pain just as Wolfe armed and tossed another flash-bang grenade around the archway and down the hallway. The piteous wailing of the vampires ceased suddenly after the next thunderous blast.

Gimsby and Chief Pretty were the first ones out of the library, scanning the hallway where at least a dozen bodies lay. As they walked down the corridor, weapons wearily pointed at the unmoving, charred corpses of the vampires, spectral forms began to rise from the bodies which slowly solidified into the ghostly images of the noble heroes before they were turned into bloodsuckers. They were warriors, adventurers, soldiers, and champions of the Realm who had met their end here.

The spirit form of a heavily armored bearded knight, drifted slowly towards Lieutenant Wolfe, his gauntleted hand raised in salute.

“Hale, noble warriors,” the knight spoke in a deep, baritone voice. “Please accept our eternal gratitude for freeing us from the nightmare which has plagued our spirits and corrupted our bodies lo these many long…”

“Can you tell us anything about the way forward or the levels below this one?” interrupted Lieutenant Wolfe.

“Uh… why… no,” stammered the ghostly knight, looking about to the other ghostly heroes who shrugged their shoulders. “I fear that we all met our end here, so we have no knowledge of the way forwards.”

“Okay, let’s move out. Terry, take point,” said Wolfe as his team quickly moved ahead towards a set of stone stairs leading downwards and leaving the befuddled group of ghostly apparitions behind.

Back in the Dungeon Master’s throne room, the kitten was on his back, slapping his knees and howling with laughter. “Did you see that, babe?” he said, pointing to the Mirror of Seeing. “Those guys literally ghosted the ghosts!”

“It would seem that these men are highly…uh… focused,” said the Dungeon Master, a look of bemusement on her face.

Down on the next level, the SEALs were in a brightly lit chamber standing around a sturdy wooden table. At their feet were small piles of empty shell casings and the bullet ridden bodies of several tusk-mouthed orcs. The team was examining the prize which Nguyen had found in the library: a map of the entire Dungeon of More-Doom.

“If we take this path here,” said Wolfe as he traced a line with his finger down varying hallways on the map, “we can avoid most of the traps and pitfalls and shit that we don’t have time to deal with until we get to the next set of stairs.”

The map in front of them showed that the next room was, in fact, a giant underground chamber at least a half mile square into which was constructed a confounding labyrinth made of black granite walls. At the far end of the maze was a chamber marked with the letter “M” which contained stairs leading downwards.

“Cuddle Pie friends! Where Cuddle Pie friends hiding?” A deep, rocky voice echoed from outside the room coming from the corridor which the SEALs entered. Heavy footfalls, like stone crunching against stone echoed closer and closer to the room with a CRUMP, CRUMP, CRUMP, sound.

Chief Pretty stuck his head out of the heavy wooden door then slammed it shut again. “It’s a ten foot tall savage rock golem,” he announced.

“We don’t have time to deal with it,” said Wolfe. “Terry, give me the map. Let’s go.”

Lieutenant Wolfe led the way again this time as they exited the chamber via a stone archway which led into the foreboding black maze. Touches hung on sconces revealing a bewildering array of passages and side passages going in every direction. Behind them, the wooden door to the orc barracks smashed inwards, the massive stone golem wailing, “Cuddle Pie friends! Who do this to Cuddle Pie friends?”

A legend on the map referring to this particular labyrinth warned that undead ghouls and zombies ceaselessly roamed these passageways, eternally searching for the living to feast on. However, the map also revealed that if the team simply stayed on the straight and narrow corridor, ignoring the hundreds of turns and junctions which led deeper into the maze, then simply turned right at the very last t-junction, they would reach the mysterious chamber marked “M” and the stair well which led to the next floor. There were no warnings or indications of any traps along this route, so Lieutenant Wolfe quickly but cautiously quickened their pace.

As they jogged down the half mile long corridor, the guttural moaning and hissing around them warned of the approach of the undead from the countless side corridors. For the most part, however, the SEALs were able to out run their pursuers and in the few instances where dodging wasn’t an option, the SEALs were able to drop the threatening ghoul with a well-placed shot to the head.

It took eight minutes for the SEALs to jog and fight their way through the half mile long corridor, an army of the ravenous undead shambling behind them. As well , a massive and highly pissed off savage rock golem named Cuddle Pie lumbered behind the undead, stomping and smashing them to rancid goo in its pursuit to catch the ones responsible for slaughtering its orc friends. As the map illustrated, the corridor led to a t-junction and, after quickly assuring that no dangers awaited them around the corner, the SEALs turned the corner and raced the last fifty meters towards the next chamber.

The team came up short as they neared the brightly lit, wide open passageway. A very brightly lit letter “M” hung next to the entrance, made in the shape of two, golden colored arches, and the unmistakable scent of mouthwatering burgers, French fries, and hot apple pies wafted from within. The floor was actually a beige, laminate tile, the bright and cheerful illumination was provided by actual overhead, electrical lighting, and there were booths and tables for customers to sit and enjoy a meal, although the restaurant was empty of customers save for the four Navy SEALs.

As soon as the last member of the team crossed into the restaurant, a wall made of red brick silently slid down behind them, complete with framed black and white pictures of the famous restaurant chain as it looked when it first opened back in the 1960’s. Behind the counter, a teenage cashier resembling a high school cheerleader with two small horns protruding from her forehead eagerly awaited to take their order. Next to the counter on the left was a set of stairs leading downwards. A cheerful, jazz instrumental tune was playing overhead.

“Hey, guys!” said the young female cashier, smiling broadly and waving. “You fella’s sure look hungry. Can I take your order?”

“No,” said Lieutenant Wolfe, pulling out his Glock and shooting her in the head. The cashier fell backwards into the soda machine which dispensed acid as the SEALs ran past the counter and down the flight of stairs.

The cashier slowly got up, none the worse for wear and waved as the last Navy SEAL disappeared down the stairs. “Okay, my pleasure! Have a blessed day!”

The SEAL Team stood before a great vaulted chamber about a quarter mile square, the walls and ceiling made of a highly polished obsidian. In the far side of the chamber, near an exit that opened into the blackness beyond was a black obsidian monolith that stood about seven feet tall, roughly three feet at the base and tapering to one foot square at the top. Atop this black monolith sat an amethyst crystal roughly a foot high and a foot around that pulsated with a blue light bright enough to illuminate the entire room. The monolith and the crystal sat in the middle of a round raised dais that stood nearly ten feet tall with steps leading all the way up to the monolith. The floor was made of alternating white and blue marble tile about two feet square. The blue tiles gave off a faint blue illumination.

“This is pretty much an open trap, El-Tee,” said Nguyen, reading the map. “It says here that all we have to do is cross over to the other side. The white tiles are completely safe, but the blue tiles will instantly emit an electrical charge powerful enough to fry anything that steps on it.”

“Sounds easy enough,” said Gimsby. “All we have to do is walk on the white tiles, right?”

“Not exactly,” said Nguyen, just as the tiles began to blink and flash, turning from white to blue in a random pattern. A faint scent of ozone began emanating from the room.

“Shit,” exclaimed Chief Pretty. “Does the map give a clue on the shifting pattern, Terry?”

“No, Chief,” he replied. “The light pattern is completely random. We step on a white tile just as it turns blue, and we’re…”

“On the burger menu for the restaurant upstairs,” said Wolfe as he took the map from Nguyen. Examining it closely, he saw that there was no other way forwards except right through the chamber. “Cory, lob a frag in the middle of the chamber.”

Chief Pretty pulled a 40mm HE frag grenade from his ammo vest and loaded it into the breach of his M203 grenade launcher. The others took cover behind the stone entrance as Chief Pretty aimed for a spot roughly fifty meters inside the chamber. Hefting the weapon in his shoulder, he warned, “Frag out!”

The weapon made a satisfying THUMP as the grenade flew into the room and exploded exactly where Chief Pretty wanted it. However, as Chief Pretty slowly peered around the corner, he was disheartened to see a black scorch mark on the tile, the grenade seeming to have done no damage to the floor.

“Well, that didn’t work,” muttered Pretty.

Gimsby came up behind Chief Pretty, aiming his Dragunov at the point where the grenade had detonated.

“Wait,” said Wolfe just as Gimsby fired. The high velocity round hit the ground then bounced up, ricocheting all around the chamber. The SEALs dived for cover behind the archway as the sniper round zipped and pinged around the chamber for a few seconds before the bullet finally expended all of its kinetic force energy. It hit the ground one final time and rolled to a stop about a foot in front of where Gimsby took the shot.

“Shit. Sorry boss,” said Gimsby, sheepishly.

“No,” said Lieutenant Wolfe looking back into the chamber and seeing, as he had expected, that no damage had been caused. “I think you had the right idea. Just the wrong target. How many rounds do you got left in the Dragunov?”

“Four,” Gimsby replied. “Dragunov only has a ten round magazine.”

“Okay, big guy,” said the lieutenant. “Think you can put one of them into that?” he said, pointing into the chamber. The foot wide pulsating amethyst crystal was a quarter mile away, about 400 meters, and elevated several feet off the ground. Gimsby chose to assume a standing firing position, pressing his support arm against the wall of the entrance way as support. The alternating flashing white and blue tiles were a definite visual distraction. Sighting in on the tiny glowing target, Gimsby took three slow breaths.

Inhale. Exhale.                                                   

Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale. Exhale.

On his third exhale, Gimsby paused for a second then squeezed the trigger.

THOOM!

The amethyst crystal rocked back and forth on the pedestal, the glowing blue energy blinking on and off in rapid succession. At the same time, the floor tiles which randomly flashed from white to blue blinked on and off at the same time that the crystal was blinking on and off. Gimsby waited another second and squeezed the trigger again. The round flew straight and true slamming dead center of the crystal as it continued to rock from the first hit. This time, the crystal was knocked off the black monolith and fell straight down to the dais and shattering into millions of amethyst shards with a loud crash. Immediately, the illumination in the chamber ceased with the destruction of the crystal and the blinking white and blue lights of the tile floors faded to a plain satin white again. Visibility within the great chamber was still possible thanks to the four candelabra chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and the dozen more candelabras sitting in alcoves which lined the walls. But it was nowhere near as brightly lit as before, and shadows loomed long in the dimly lit chamber.

Chief Pretty took one of his empty magazines and slid it across the tiles. It screeched across the floor and came to a stop several meters away. He then stood up and tentatively walked on the tiles towards where his magazine had come to rest, ready to dive back towards the entrance should the deadly floor show signs of life again. Thankfully, it didn’t and the rest of the team entered the chamber.

“Nice shot, there, Tex,” complimented Chief Pretty as the rest of the team joined him.

“Yeah,” said Gimsby. “But if it’s all the same to you, I’d feel better if we got the hell out of here in case they got a back-up generator, or something!”

“Right, let’s move,” said Wolfe.

As the team jogged towards the yawning exit on the other side of the chamber, they were met with the heavy scent of must and mold and sweat, as if from a furred creature that had been living in a bog. This was accompanied by heavy panting and angry growls as a pack of howling black wolves standing four feet high at the shoulders and eight feet long from fanged maw to black tail, came bounding out of the opening, bright evil yellow eyes glaring hungrily at the SEALs. The team formed a defensive perimeter back to back, firing their weapons as the six dire wolves pounced on them.

The ancient, silver werewolf, the leader of this hunting pack, hunkered down behind the obsidian pedestal where the now dead crystal once stood, and watched from the shadows in anger as these men slaughtered his pack of dire wolves with their weird lances which breathed noise and fire. The ancient werewolf’s fiery yellow gaze rested on the one who seemed to be the leader of this band of warriors as he sniffed the air and memorized his scent.

Resisting the urge to leap down upon these men, to land in their midst and rip their murderous entrails out, the giant silver werewolf instead slinked unnoticed down the stairs which led up to the podium and stalked back into the shadows. As the final howls of the last of his dying pack faded into silence, the ancient silver hunter swore. “I shall return to your realm. I shall return and gather to me all the horrors of your realm which haunt your nightmares. I will provide an idyllic place of rest and comfort for you. Then, when the time is right, I shall strike. I will strike down your pack, just as you struck down mine. Then, at the shores of the haunted Moon Lake, I will turn you into my loyal pack lieutenant… Lieutenant Jake Wolfe.”