Dungeon of Doors

~ Lord Fredrick, The Dungeon ~

The amount of people who've perished in the dungeon is rather astounding. I'm currently doing a census, and the line outside is quite long. Hopefully this won't take me too long, as I wish to experiment with some things afterwards.

I've already noted the presence of Shanks, Toothy, and Skinny. Those three were criminals during their life. I've yet to speak to them in detail on their lives. What I have learned is they were thieves who often stole from those in the back alleys of Daywark. Their crimes extended to manslaughter when they accidentally spooked a horse into crushing a wagon driver whilst robbing the wagon outside Daywark.

Captain Dirk—the one who was responsible for dealing with the trio—has also been noted in my book. He died in a most strange way, having ventured into the dungeon after being stricken with grief and self loathing. He wanted to kill Vivian in order to avenge me. Unfortunately things didn't quite work out that way, and he had thought it was all a fool's errand up until his death.

Now I am moving onto the next. He's a young man, or he was, and his face is somewhat familiar to me. The armor he wears bears the crest of Daywark. He was a junior soldier who perished on our first expedition into the dungeon. Daniel, victim of an oil trap and a lethal fall.

"Daniel, can you tell me what happened during your death? Do you recall anything?"

"Nothing you haven't witnessed yourself, Sir!"

"So you lost consciousness upon hitting the ground?"

Daniel nods, cringing. His ghostly body is very marked by his death. His limbs are bent oddly, with broken bones making his skin appear strained in several places. Thankfully he isn't experiencing any pain in his undead form.

"I see. Is there anything you'd like me to communicate to Vivian?"

"Um, that's the dungeon, right?"

"Essentially, yes. She is its creator."

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Daniel nods softly. I slide my quill down the page in preparation of whatever message he'd like to pass on to Vivian. She's requested I ask this sort of thing of each ghost to ensure they feel they can talk with her. One on one meetings aren't possible due to the sheer number of ghosts present.

"I want to know why she killed me. O-Or why she put traps in the dungeon, at all. Why?"

His question lingers in the air as I scratch his words onto the ghostly page. His message will be passed on, and what response Vivian will give I cannot know. Hopefully it will satisfy his desire for an answer.

"I'll have your message passed on. If she gives a reply, I will let you know."

"Thank you, Lord Fredrick."

With that our meeting is concluded. The next ghost I speak to is a soldier who lost his life fighting great hawks in the dungeon. He was part of one of the first scouting parties, and died after losing consciousness from the amount of blood he lost. His oddly pale greenish white hue and the cuts on his face reflect how he died. I make note of his name and information before the next slew of dead soldiers pass through the building.

Ten soldiers. That is how many died in the stampede that killed me. Almost all of them saw the beasts, but failed to outrun their rampage. Being crushed to death is not pleasant. Almost all of the men who pass through reporting death during the stampede—or, dungeon break, as some are calling it—look horribly disfigured in undeath. Their ghostly forms have several limbs or sections of their body crushed flat like pancakes. Their information and any messages they have are recorded in my book.

Another very familiar face is next to enter my makeshift office. He gives me a somewhat somber smile as he enters. He takes his seat with the professionalism I remember him for. Henry, the man who helped Dirk when he needed aid. The second in command of the Daywark soldiers.

"It both saddens and pleases me to see you here, Henry."

"I didn't expect to ever see you again, Sir, so this is an honor for me."

Smiling softly, I flip to a fresh page in my ethereal book in order to record Henry's information. He looks almost the same as I remember him in life. The only obvious issue is the rather large stab wound in his chest. That and his ghostly green appearance.

"How did you die, Henry? That's no monster attack…"

"That's what I've been asking myself ever since I woke up here. Last thing I remember is being swallowed by a toad. It was unpleasant, and probably would have killed me, but then I felt a stinging and everything went black. I just don't know."

"Hm, I see. Maybe one of the others knows the details of your death. We'll have to see."

With that I move onto recording his basic information and asking about what message he might want delivered to Vivian.

"If you could ask or tell Vivian anything, what would you like to say?"

"I'd like to ask if she would mind allowing me to tour the dungeon. I'd like to explore, you see."

"Oh! How interesting. No one has said anything quite like that."

Henry rubs the back of his head with a sheepish grin. He did enjoy exploring the dungeon, and was in charge of all the map making for the operation. I'll have to put in a good word for him when I pass his request onto Vivian.

With that Henry turns to leave. What happens instead is Tanner, a junior soldier I'm not very familiar with, walks in and the two stare at each other for a moment. After a few silent moments they greet one another stiffly.

"Tanner. You didn't make it, did you?"

"N-No, Sir. Those damn spiders got to me."

"Well at least you're here now."

Tanner nods, looking uncomfortable for some reason. Henry notices.

"Do you happen to know how I died, Tanner?"

"Yes, but I think maybe it'd be best if Captain Dirk had this conversation with you."

"Oh? Well, alright. Nice seeing you."

Tanner nods to Henry and he leaves. With Henry gone Tanner relaxes somewhat. The younger soldier slips into the chair across from me and deflates slightly. I can tell he's stressed from encountering Henry. I'm sure I'll be able to get more details about what happened from Dirk in the future.

Looking at Tanner reveals the details of his death. His body has several portions torn and ripped apart by something—likely the monsters he said killed him—and part of his body is wrapped in strange webs. His complexion is a bit off, black veins visible beneath his skin in places.

"So, Tanner, how exactly did you die?"

"Spiders, Sir. Swarmers, those big eight legged monsters. They got me while Captain Dirk and Billy were both distracted. I was tied up and poisoned before I could do much of anything…"

"I'm sorry you had to experience that…"

"Fucking hurt. They ate me alive, Sir. It took way too long for me to die."

I swallow my nervousness as he stares down at the desk with a distracted look in his eyes. Clearly his death really affected him, scarring him even in undeath. He spends some time muttering to himself before I finally ask him if he has a message for Vivian.

"Tell her I want some of those spiders. In a cage."

With the way Tanner is staring at me I worry what he plans to do. If Vivian gives him the swarmers, does he plan to murder them? Torture them? Or perhaps something even more sinister. I write down his request alongside a note describing just how disturbed the boy appears.

After Tanner takes his leave a series of people I'm unfamiliar with are processed. One man, slain by a snake in a part of the dungeon after my time. Two adventurers from the same party were crushed by a tree monster they hadn't expected to fight. Another one of their number was crushed beneath a massive mysterious monster whose legs they mistook for trees.

Danny, a young boy who accompanied this group, was apparently the last to die. He has no idea what actually killed him. His body looks undamaged, unlike the others in his party. Every other person in his group has some sort of horrible disfigurement depicting how they died. Danny is fine.

The leader of their party isn't here, so I have to assume he escaped the dungeon with his life.

Several more adventurers are processed. Some of them died to monsters, a few to treachery, and fewer still to more mundane things like starvation or dehydration. Getting injured and left behind spelled several adventurers' doom.

One particular set of adventurers are quite irate with one another. Apparently they entered a temple within the dungeon and lost their lives to elements of the temple. One man died to a mushroom monster whilst trying to run away from it. Another perished after being injured in combat, and a third died by the hand of his own leader. Why his leader killed him isn't certain. His story doesn't add up.

I'll have to assume he did something worth punishing by death, as he was clearly strangled by another person. The bruising on his neck makes that much obvious.

After this bunch of adventurers come the paladins. There were many of them, but they insist there should be more present if they truly failed to cleanse the dungeon. Each one of the zealots is dissatisfied with the situation. They call me a heretic, monster, and other names. I don't bother entertaining their taunts with anything more than a sigh.

It is the leader of these paladins who I find interesting. He is a man of few words, with an impressive stature. While his allies were all visibly maimed or twisted by violence he is undamaged in his ghostly form. He carries a massive morning star in his hands.

"You said you died to a monster?"

"An abomination. It came and went like the night, ripping strong paladins in half."

"I see… Well, I'll look into what exactly that monster was for you."

The inquisitor is silent. He doesn't seem to enjoy speaking normally, and even less so when it is with me. I understand his discomfort. I did attack one of his paladins when they attempted to strike Vivian. My agreement with her is important, as I want to see what she can do without having to fight her.

"Any messages for Vivian?"

An awfully long silence passes before he opens his mouth.

"I want you to ask her what she is. Demon, god, or something else. I must know."

Unlike his followers this inquisitor seems more open to learning the truth. I make not of his question and our meeting comes to a close. The last of the ghosts to be interviewed is next. He steps in through the doorway, his tall stature and wide shoulders making him cut quite the figure. He has an oddly somber look on his face as he steps to the chair and takes his seat.

"Greetings. Who might you be?"

"I'm Clyde… I was an adventurer, kind of, working under my boss."

"Really? Who was your boss?"

"Well we just called him Boss, but his name is Kingsley, Sir."

We exchange some information. I find out he apparently died in a completely different area. He wasn't near Daywark when he died, no he was in a fishing village a fair distance from the city. Apparently there is a second dungeon! This puts things in a different perspective. If Vivian can create multiple dungeons then things are a lot more complicated than I thought.

From what he describes this other dungeon is one full of watery environments. Rivers and sewers are its hallmark. Apparently he and his party got through the first level before reaching the second. It was here he lost his life to a rather viscous fish monster. His limbs and head are all partially detached, floating slightly out of place from the bite wounds the fish left him with.

"Do you have a message for Vivian, Clyde?"

Clyde doesn't say anything at all. He quietly shakes his head, looking as though his mind never left the scene of his death. The census is complete.