Facility Core

The following day, we gathered up our gear and menagerie of pets to move on to the next task in this dungeon crawl. Now ready, Rionriv showed me to the locked door just beyond the ancient security checkpoint where we had been resting. This was where I first observed the massive vault-style hatch. This relic of a bygone age concealed the path that would take us to the heart of this facility and the final level before we descended to the dragon.

Handing me a keycard she had looted, Rionriv turned to the other two and began directing them on what to do with their animals.

Carefully inspecting the artifact, I was impressed at how well it had held up over the ages. It was a flat piece of hammered Celestinium, or better known in this age as marble iron. This white and grey metal with flecks of gold was found under Talir’sahn and could only be accessed via the chrono-locked portion of the city—meaning the vein had been quite literally lost to time. Stronger than steel and as light as aluminum, it had an excellent conductivity value for magical energy, making it the best medium for crafting arcane weapons and technology.

In fact, Celestinium was what the surviving bit of the Remnant of Westerriton had been made of—though that structure had become so corrupted by divine magic that it had lost its arcane integrity by this era. But the real pièce de résistance was that this metal had been historically used three times to craft weapons capable of slaying Gods.

The Celestinium of this key had been crafted to enhance the arcane crystal embedded at the top of the six-inch card. Inspecting the door for its corresponding terminal, I eventually noted a strange oval protrusion on the adjacent wall. With a swipe of the artifact, the gem dimly flashed, and a series of ancient, metal bolts unlocked.

As the hatch slowly swung open, the path gasped for air. It revealed an abandoned stairwell that had been retaken by dust and webs over the decades of neglect. Faint arcane lights, still functional after over a hundred years, flickered to life.

“They’re ready,” Rionriv whispered as she joined me, peeking up the dimly lit staircase. “Ugh, it's so creepy.”

“At least it’s lit,” I replied and looked at the other two as they talked with their pets. “So can Aes, like, talk with animals?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“What do you mean? You don’t know? Aren’t you two, like, sisters?”

“Totally, but that skill’s new. She took some druid classes without me during the last term of our first year. Since then, she’s seemed to have the knack for talking animals down.”

“But you never asked?”

She looked at me unenthusiastically.

“You mean, has she ever brought a wolf or bear back to the dorm room?—No, it never seemed important to ask about. I figured she’d maybe collect birds or something one day, but not this.”

“Yeah, that tracks—” I looked back to the two as they approached. “There’s our bleeding-heart D-P-S team.”

“Damage Per Second,” Aesandoral said proudly. “I remembered!”

I smirked, withdrawing the map of the next section. Pinning it to the wall, we ran over the layout and strategy a final time before moving forward.

It was a quick discussion, having already reviewed it once the night before and after we had woken up.

We were ready, which meant it was time to begin.

Prioritizing stealth for this level, Aesandoral and Sharzin led the front of the pack as they kept an eye out for any of the traps I had noted. I followed behind them, with Rionriv and the animals in tow. Eventually reaching the top of the stairs, we waited as Sharzin opened the secret door that had been built into the dead-end wall.

With a quiet click, she looked to Aesandoral, giving a confirming nod. They pushed it forward, into a large hall that had once been a storage warehouse but currently functioned as a makeshift camp for twelve pale-skinned, dark-bearded Durkpiel Dwarves.

Gods, I regret the names I wrote into this world. I thought to myself as Aesandoral and Sharzin quickly released their arrows.

The three dwarves who had been resting in this section silently dropped to the ground. We moved quickly, keeping to the shadows cast by the dim blue arcane light. Sharmin, Moose and Ruckus—which I learned were Aesandoral’s names for the wolves—moved quietly and lay down near the corpses, sniffing them to ensure they were dead. They then waited there obediently, watching our backs as we moved on to the next room.

Damn, Aes trained those animals faster than a cheetah with zoomies. I thought, giving them a final glance as I moved towards our next target.

Rionriv and I took up position on either side of the double doors that led to the weapons forge. We used hand signals to count down before pushing the thick wooden slabs open. Aesandoral and Sharzin moved in quickly, arrows flying and connecting with two dwarves that had been working on a hot blade.

Then Rionriv and I entered, our eyes scanning the space.

I saw him first, a third dwarf that had been hiding in the corner, overseeing the work from afar. He had been struggling to his feet, reaching for a nearby wand, but his fate had already been sealed.

As planned, I leapt into action. Clearing the workbench and landing a pair of hits across the head with my staff, I quickly grappled the dazed figure. With a pivot, I placed his body between Rionriv and myself as she released her spell. Two thick shards of ice cut through the room, impaling the dwarf, who quickly fell limp in my grasp.

“Too soon.” I whispered into the back of her mind.

“I couldn’t help but try it out. Seeing the way it tore into you—.”

“Triggered.”

We moved on without missing a beat. Room by room, we continued through the motions we had rehearsed, clearing out six more dwarves before transitioning onto the abandoned half of the facility.