Worthy Core

DAY 819

Cerise Darktouched had been setting a personal record for nerves virtually every day of the past week, but today is really a record-breaker. The Emissary is fairly certain that she's never felt this anxious about an event before. Not her first assassination, not her first personal encounter with the Dragonlord, none of it compares to today. Even the fact that she'd left the mountain camp behind and had spent a comfortable night at the Lucky Bastard hadn't done anything to calm her down.

For today is the day she's to find out her fate.

Commander Gerlosius - the draconic officer who had commanded the military forces involved in the capture of Grassbrook - had left the area some time ago to assist with the main thrust of the war effort. He's due to return today though with specialists in tow, the kind of high-tier adventurers which you don't find in normal military ranks. This much at least isn't a surprise to Cerise. She'd always known that specially trained and skilled core-crackers would be required to reach the deeper levels of Worthy Dungeon, never mind the core chamber itself. She had just been expecting to meet them with a few more accomplishments under her belt...and a few more living soldiers, at that.

Some reinforcements had continued to drift in, but only enough to hold the territory they had claimed already. The war against the Rainlanders and Valleylands had gone into full swing, and the primary reserve forces are now largely committed to the frontlines. As it is, Cerise couldn't plausibly order another assault on Floor Four even if she wanted to. Whatever her flaws in military command may be, however, there is one thing Cerise is definitely good at - making a good impression. So it is that the incredibly anxious succubus appears to be calmly sipping at her tea, glancing at a few of the morning reports as a kobold knocks at the door to the inn's meeting room.

"Emissary Darktouched - the Commander and his guests have arrived. He asked to meet you?"

"Of course, of course. Bring him back here, if you would. I look forward to meeting these...guests."

The man vanishes into the main room, and a minute later he's replaced by a red-scaled draconic. Cerise rises to meet him, and offers him a slight nod of her head in greeting. "Commander Gerlosius. How goes the frontlines?"

The officer doesn't answer right away, instead studying his diplomatic counterpart before smiling and returning the greeting. "Well enough, well enough. A month into the war, and half a dozen border forts have fallen - true ones, not the minor outposts like they had here in Grassbrook. There have been no decisive battles yet, but that is as expected. The feudal armies of the Rainlander nobles will take time to assemble, and while that weakens their defenses, it does make it harder to pin them down for a good crushing."

"That sounds about right." Cerise switches topics, delaying the more local matters at hand. "And the Valleylands? I heard there's been more trouble there than expected?"

The man snorts as he takes a seat at the table, ignoring the refreshments prepared for him. "You probably know more than I, it's hardly my theater of operations. But yes, I have heard that the Valleylands responded quickly to the declaration of war, much more so than the Rainlanders. Of course, our intention in this stage of the war is simply to keep them too busy to aid in the east, so a few setbacks there haven't changed the overall objective."

"So, not ideal, but perhaps as good as one can expect in the chaos of a continental war I suppose."

"Indeed." The officer eyes the demon for a moment before continuing. "And your progress with the dungeon? I've heard some rather...dramatic reports."

Cerise doesn't gulp - that would be far too obvious. "The defense has been stiffer than expected, I'm afraid. A third of the dungeon is in our hands, but I'm afraid the standard army troops are insufficient for further progress. I'm hoping your 'guests' will aid with that."

"I'm sure they will." Gerlosius pauses for another long moment before speaking up again. "Let's cut the shit, Darktouched."

Cerise expertly moves an eyebrow into a questioning position. "I'm sorry, Commander?"

"The dungeon has been a disaster. In terms of progress made compared to resources spent, this has been literally the worst-performing part of the entire war. If taking the dungeon was actually required as part of our larger warplans against the Rainlands, there'd be half a dozen generals debating over what to do about it."

"We always knew that Worthy would be a challenging opponent - "

"Yes, we did." The draconic gives her a sharp-toothed smirk. "I spoke to the Dragonlord before returning south, you know. Would you like to know their analysis of your performance?"

Here it comes, the demon thinks to herself - keeping that dialog entirely internal. "Of course, Commander. I'm always eager to hear the thoughts of our sovereign."

"The Dragonlord says...that you have performed as expected."

Cerise blinks, not entirely sure how to take that. "They are...satisfied with our progress?"

Gerlosius grunts. "Not really, no. If you'd handed us the dungeon on a silver platter - or at least the first half of it - I'm sure they would have been quite pleased. But they are entirely unsurprised that the dungeon has proven difficult, especially given the resources you had at hand. Although falling into the dungeon's trap with those enchanted armor tricks was particularly...unimpressive."

"I have at least learned my lessons from my mistakes. But speaking of resources - will the Dragonlord be reinforcing my soldiers any further? Or perhaps more of the Dungeon Legion?"

"Your soldiers?" The man glares at her. "Your command was always temporary, and while we may have kept you in a command role had you given us more success, you can consider yourself relieved of that command. For now your role is to see to the prisoners kept locked up in the Grassbrook Fort, and to be on standby should we need a diplomat for this particular thorn. That said, I would like you to meet some of the specialists I've brought today, as they may learn something from your...challenges."

On several levels, Cerise is relieved to hear of her shift in priorities. The Emissary is aware of her shortcomings in regards to military leadership, and dealing with captured VIPs is certainly much more in her comfort zone. But at the expense of disappointing the Dragonlord...well, her outcome could have been much worse, she supposes. Keeping her best face forward, Cerise nods. "I'll be happy to provide them with any assistance I can provide."

"I'm sure." Gerlosius turns towards the door. "Come in!"

Four individuals walk in - two demons, a draconic, and a kobold. This is certainly not the full extent of Gerlosius's team of specialists, as even the four most powerful Challengers on the continent would probably have trouble clearing Worthy Dungeon in its current state with its dozens of defenders. But it does mean that these four must be special - and as Cerise gets a better look at the incubus leading the group, her calm exterior collapses and she audibly gasps.

Standing up from her chair, she quickly gives the man a bow. "Pretty Thing! I had no idea you would be gracing us today!"

The man raises an eyebrow, in a precisely angled way that makes Cerise's earlier attempts at controlling her appearance look like a rank amateur's work. The single motion of a few muscles and hairs communicates volumes to the succubus, and she suddenly feels rather embarrassed about her sudden, less-than-formal greeting. For his part, Gerlosius seems more confused by her reaction.

"You...know each other? To be honest, when we met earlier I doubted the man was even a government agent." The draconic gestures towards the demon and his gaudy outfit. Bright reds and yellows stripe across his chest in a V-pattern, and the open collar of his robes shows an unusual amount of skin for a high-tier Challenger. Seeing the officer's disbelief, the incubus laughs.

"I have something of a reputation among demonkind, Commander. Apparently not with draconics though, it would seem."

"Well! And here I was about to introduce you to Emissary Darktouched, but it seems that perhaps I'm the one that could use an introduction!"

Cerise quickly takes the opportunity, hoping to make a good impression. "Pretty Thing, the Sensationalist, is an original summon - he was brought to this world by a summoning ritual during the Age of Warlocks. Which makes him one of the oldest demons in the world. They, ah...they say you never had your ritual name changed, to remind people of what our ancestors were subjected to."

The man nods. "That's true! Although if you must shorten it, I prefer 'Pretty' over 'Thing', aha."

"I see." Gerlosius nods along. "Your class...something to do with attracting attention? I admit I'm a little confused about the details on that, but I know you're one of the few level fifty Challengers out there, so I assume it's more useful than it sounds."

Pretty smiles as he takes a seat, along with his companions. "Ah, it's more literal than that, I'm afraid. I specialize in literal sensations - pleasure and pain in particular, although many more besides. My magic can control them with great effect and precision...and as an incubus, I'm sure you can imagine how useful that is for me."

"I'm sure it is. Well, to keep things moving, allow me to introduce those who Darktouched may not be a personal fan of." He gestures first towards the draconic, a copper-scaled woman. "Fidelia, the Infernoist. A pyrokinetic, as I'm sure you can guess. The arcane demon here meanwhile is Tiffany, the Warp Mistress. I don't suppose you might be some ancient ancestor of demonkind by some chance as well, Tiffany?"

Unusually for a demon, the arcane who smiles back is a blonde, although her skin is as red as Cerise's or Pretty's. "You draconics never learn much tact, do you? Asking a woman's age like that. I suppose I'll say that I am quite...experienced by most mortal standards, but that still leaves me at half of Pretty's age."

"A Warp Mistress?" Cerise furrows her brow. "You're a teleporter? Mastery of those skills is quite rare - I'm surprised you're here rather than working with a logistics unit."

The green-eyed demon shakes her head. "Long range spatial magics are not my specialty. I'm more of a short-range gal - creating shields, spatial blades, that sort of thing. Quite effective in a fight, as there's few defenses designed against my brand of magic."

Apparently impatient to get this over with, the male brown-scaled kobold at the end of the table speaks up. "Yeah, yeah, and in the mix of all these magic namby-pambies, you've got me. Grenwald, Stone Stalwart. I'm a bit of an earth elementalist, but mainly I'm here to take the hits and dish em back out. So, can we get to the actual meeting?"

"Of course." Cerise looks back towards Pretty before continuing. "But might I ask, are there others in your unit? You are all...very impressive, but even the four of you would be greatly outnumbered."

The incubus chuckles. "I didn't live to be four hundred and thirty-seven - and now you have a rough estimate for Tiffany's age, you're welcome - by being overconfident. There's about twenty of us, a mix of Masters and Supremes by Challenger reckoning. Of course we'll be using the support of the other soldiers here as well, although you did have an interesting agent we were hoping to recruit to our team."

"Oh? I'm happy to help, but who is that?"

Fidelia answers the question. "Randall, your 'Problem Solver'? We hear that he's only an Advanced-tier technically, but esoterics like him always hit above their tier if they're any good. Assuming you don't require him for other essential work, of course."

The Emissary quickly shakes her head. "No, by all means, I'll tell him to report to you as soon as we're done here. But first, you wanted to hear more about the state of the dungeon?"

Pretty smiles - a dangerous-looking expression. "Indeed we do. And I'd also like to hear more about an old friend of mine, a certain Mr. Fucked..."