Melia the Magnificent

Braum took up his place at the front of the staging grounds. The week had rolled over, everyone had checked their stats pages, and their dungeon lockouts were cleared. It was time to go back into the [Obsidian Mansion].

Most of the people gathered in the staging grounds were [Breaker] people. Being the leader of the guild, Braum felt it was his job to say a few words. It kept the morale high and reassured all the support staff that what they were doing meant something, that they provided value, that they were valuable. As such, Braum didn’t mind the fact that there wasn’t a real stage on the staging grounds, and he needed to stand on a sturdy box. His people looked up to him, no matter his stature.

“Alright lads and lasses,” he began, getting a chuckle out of the assembled teams. Most of them were veterans in their fields, none of them below the age of 30. And yet, compared to the hundred-year-old dwarf, it was fitting. “Today, we’re going to continue the assault on the [Obsidian Mansion]. The [First Act] is down, so we’re one step closer to closing this out than we were before. But make no mistake: we’re not close to being finished. We’ve only just begun, and there’s more questions than we’ve found answers.”

Brain took a look around at the various faces, pulling up a memory for each and every one of them. He made sure to commit all of his staff, no matter how inconsequential, to memory. It was one of the reasons membership in the guild was so exclusive. They were family.

As such, Braum often told them how it is, rather than spin a golden yarn from a silver tongue. He relaxed, rolled his shoulders, and chewed his thoughts like a particularly dense hunk of bread.

“I’ll tell it to ya straight: this is one o’ the weirdest dungeons Ah’ve e’er seen. It doesn’t follow the rules. It’s not a straightforward map. The story it wants to tell isn’t easy to decipher. One wrong turn in there could spell disaster for the best-trained guild of explorers known to Man…and we’re no exception.

“We’ve cleared the first [Act], but there’s no tellin’ how many [Acts] in total there be. Obvious signs point to 4, but I’d eat me beard if the dungeon doesn’t have somethin’ else planned. The spacin’ dinnae feel right, an’ the timin’s off. Get dug in, lads, we’ve got a slog ahead of us.

“Now, I’m tellin’ ya all o’ that because we’re headin’ inta the next [Act]. There’s more to be discovered in tha first, but fer now, we’re movin’ on. We’ll be sure ta revisit the earlier [Acts] when we’re a wee bit more comfortable.”

Brain took a deep breath, steadied himself, and regained his formal bearing.

“My orders still stand: expect the best, prepare for the worst. Production, continue to supply the camp as if we’re still out here with you. Division leaders, continue to maintain your stocks, make sure to put in orders for supplies before they get to critical levels. Above all, guards and secondary teams, keep the non-combatants safe. We need those enchantments stable the entire time we’re gone; nobody wants to come home and find out we’ve lost a [Luggage Mage] and everything they’ve been holding.”

Braum smirked and allowed the obligatory chuckles to pass before continuing. [Inventory Mages] were some of the rarest and most pampered support staff in existence; nobody wanted anything bad to happen to their stuff.

“That being said, we don’t know when we’re coming back. I could have spent a week studying the first [Act] alone, and if the second is anything like the first, I’ll be sorely tempted to do the same. But it might not be. It could be a straight shot to a boss. It could be a drag-out fight. We could die and wake up in the abbey’s respawn chambers. Let’s hope that’s not the case. But whatever fate the gods might have for us, we know this: Helena’s Hearth will keep us warm, Celestara’s Light will guide us, and Chaos will always get her due. Breakers, to me!”

​

The cheering from the crowd, the ominous creaks and groans from the ancient mansion, and the wind whirling through the partially exposed ballroom all faded instantly as the [Breakers] stepped through the dungeon portal. The cacophony of noise quieted to a somber, contemplative silence, not the eerie void it had been the first time they’d stepped into the entry tunnel and had no idea what to expect, but something that let Braum think. And one of his first thoughts was, in fact, somewhat merited.

“Wha’ ‘re tha chances the ticket seller be hostile this time around?” Rook asked. It seemed Braum wasn’t the only one with such thoughts. They’d waited until the lockout cleared for exactly this reason. Even if the gloves respawned after they were killed (which some monsters did and some didn’t), there was no telling how they’d react during the same raid-state. Lockouts were supposed to reset a dungeon to its base, default state, as if a person had never set foot inside…to some extent. Order tracked all things, including how many attempts each individual person had at each individual dungeon.

“I’d give ‘er less than 10,” Evra cackled. Angus perked up and added his two copper.

“Over-under on gettin’ attacked the moment we turn the corner?”

Braum rolled his eyes. He didn’t partake in their silly gambles, not when he was usually the one who had to test the results.

“No bet,” came his customary reply. There was some lighthearted grumbling behind him, but nothing serious. Besides, the short walk through the cave wasn’t long enough to produce a real complaint. After a handful of steps, they’d reached the bend, and right after that was the podium.

The [Spectral Usher] awaited them, as expected.

Braum hefted his hammer in his hand, but he didn’t go full-defensive mode. He strode confidently forward, and the gloves remained motionless. Even as they droned out their familiar, haunting question, they remained neutral.

“Tickets…?” They asked. Braum instinctively smiled; something in the back of his mind reprimanded him for being underdressed. He shook his head; now was not the time for a tuxedo with a bowtie.

“My good usher, I’d like to see the list, please.”

While not strictly necessary, it never hurt to be polite, monster or no. The gloves dipped down, retrieved the gilded folder, and handed it to Braum.

​

[Tickets to the Obsidian Mansion]

​

Now Showing: The House that Death Built

​

Introduction by Bartholomew Cromwell: Admission [Free]

​

Act 1: What Lies Beneath {Access Granted}

​

Act 2: Of [Mages] and Men {Access Granted}

​

Act 3: For Whom the Gnome Toils {Conditions Unmet}

​

LOCKED {Conditions Unmet}

​

Final Act {Conditions Unmet}

​

Ah. So they’d officially unlocked Act 2, then. That followed classical progression logic, which was a relief. With how odd this dungeon was, Braum was hesitant to assume.

“Thank you, good sir,” Braum said, handing back the folder. To his amusement, the [Usher] went to the effort of taking it and placing it behind the podium. “If you’ll be so kind, tonight we’ve decided to go with a showing of Act 2: Of [Mages] and Men.”

As was customary, the gloves said nothing and glowed white. They proffered a set of tickets and returned to their station, their purpose fulfilled. Braum gave his ticket a conflicted look as the others took theirs. Perhaps, someday, the story of this dungeon would make it to the outside world, and he’d be able to sit down in a theater and enjoy it for real. The others did not seem as interested.

“Ach,” Evra croaked in her curmudgeonly way. “Who’s on [Biscuits]?”

“Actually,” Braum mused, letting his eyes wander across the lobby, “I was thinkin’ ‘bout visitin’ the concession stand.”

The whole group turned as one and soon everybody was staring at the distant wall with glass cases filled with goodies.

“Oooh,” Evra cackled. “Dibs on the [Kettle Corn].”

Once the group was sufficiently fed, watered, and buffed up, they made their way into the auditorium. They handed off their tickets to the [Usher] at the door, made their way to their seats and sat down. Curiously, they were not treated to the same introduction [The Bard] gave them the first time around, and instead listened to a short recap detailing their adventures in the first Act. Braum was enthralled, and entirely displeased when the refresher ended far too early. Really, it was something he should have seen coming, since it wasn’t like [The Bard] was going to put on the entire play for them, but it added another set of checks to the [Breakers]’ list.

Was there a recap session after every act? Did the telling change depending on who went through it, or what bosses were defeated? Theirs included a mention of Angus receiving an [Elementium Ingot], so Braum assumed there was some intelligence to the retelling. That added at least another 3 clears per Act, especially if they got a recap after every one.

When the lights came on and the stage cleared, the group made their way down to the second portal. They took only a slight moment to prepare themselves, and they stepped through. As if drawing the curtain on an actual stage, Braum saw a system message as the world went white: [Act 2: Of [Mages] and Men].

​

Directly after stepping through the portal, Braum knew something was wrong…and if not wrong in the literal sense, then vastly different from what he expected.

The location they found themselves in was about as far removed from the start of [Act 1] as it could possibly be. Instead of a peaceful (if bustling) city street in the middle of a celebration, [Act 2] dropped them in the middle of an active war zone.

An explosion rocked the earth a dozen yards away, causing Braum to dive behind him, tackling his nearest party member to the ground while raising his shield above his head. The others scrambled to safety as they blinked the stars from their eyes, trying desperately to overcome the portal discombobulation, temporarily forgetting that dungeons had a “safe zone” surrounding the entrance portal.

Even if it felt like this dungeon threw that law completely out the window.

“Brace!” Yelled Angus, picking Evra up like a sack of potatoes and hustling behind Braum. “Incoming!”

Warren transformed into his tree form and began madly casting spells: [Renews], [Healing Touches], [Lifeblooms], everything. Braum cast a bubble around himself and Rook, praying desperately that they’d live long enough to regroup.

A sharp whine split his ears as a rocket sputtered into the night sky, exploding with a flare of light that illuminated the valley below them. They were standing on a hill, entrenched in a fortified camp, looking down on a bloody battlefield. Hearing Angus’ cry, Braum looked up…and faltered.

A gigantic rock was hurtling through the sky, having been launched by a distant catapult.

Braum was paralyzed by awe. That wasn’t some mere boulder being launched by a wound-up spoon attached to a mobile platform, but a real, honest-to-god siege engine…redirecting the fallen spire of a human keep. And it was heading straight for them.

Braum didn’t close his eyes, not even as his brain registered the fact that he was about to die and the next thing he’d be seeing was the inside of the abbey’s respawn chamber. But the aim was off. The projectile rapidly grew in size as its trajectory brought it closer, raining catastrophic death from above, crossing great distances in the blink of an eye…coming crashing down with the fury of a meteor about 100 yards away.

Right on top of an entire company of recruits.

Braum barely had a chance to let his mouth fall open in terror as the building-sized projectile embedded itself into the earth.

The ground exploded. Chunks of dirt and stone erupted like the spent aggression of a volcano, scattering deadly shards and debris everywhere, while everything shook. Braum shook, his knees shook, his joints shook, his very bones shook. It all trembled with the everlasting vibrations of death and destruction.

The phantom wail of a hundred people crying out in despair was suddenly silenced, and where the company stood, now there was the peak of a spire, buried halfway underground.

Braum, for the first time in a very long time…was speechless. Unable to move. Unable to think.

“Wha’ are ye doin’, sittin’ on yer ass?!” Angus bellowed from somewhere close by. “You some babe, suckin’ on an elf’s saggy tits, or are you a dwarf? MOVE!!!”

Braum snapped to attention, pulled Rook off the ground, barely registering that nobody in the portal entry was harmed, regardless of any skill they used. He was about to sound an all-out retreat when a commanding voice rooted him to the spot.

“No! Not today, not like this! Your time has not yet come, soldiers of Humanity! Rise! By Celestara’s Light, live again! [Mass Resurrection]!!”

A massive, golden circle formed around the settling debris, just as a blinding column of holy white light beamed down from the heavens. The majestic form of a high elf rose from the ground as power lifted her into the air, and beneath her, the ground trembled. The half-buried ruins of a spire didn’t move, but beneath the radiant figure, figures started to appear. The company, which had just been ruthlessly annihilated, stared at their arms and bodies in shock, watching with uncomprehending eyes as new bodies were created for them, born from light, as there was nothing left of their old forms to restore. The spell ran its course and the troops all stared up at [The Saint] as one might stare at Celestara herself, but they were not allowed to dally.

“Quickly!” [The Saint] commanded. “Head into the camp! Go to your division leaders; your aid is desperately needed! The battle rages, but with your help, it might yet be won!”

[The Saint] lowered herself to the ground, turned, and dashed into the camp. The freshly returned soldiers shook themselves from their stupor and hurried after her.

Braum…was not so capable of action. Nor was his team.

“Oy!” A sharp voice barked at him from behind. Braum turned reflexively, just in time to see a huge Minotaur beastkin shove his way through the portal, leading a fresh group of fighters. “If you ain’t here to fight, leave! Backup’s on the way; we need this highway cleared!”

He shoved his way past Braum and the [Breakers], leading a group of burly-looking adventurers in grim-looking armor. Braum watched, still stunned, as the 8 men trotted down the hill into camp. As they disappeared around the corner of a wall, a group of injured soldiers made their way to the portal, vanishing as they stepped through.

“Hey!” somebody else shouted. Braum looked up to see a tall, human [Lieutenant] directing traffic, pause, point at them, and throw his thumb harshly over his shoulder. “We called for adventurers, not bystanders! Get in gear or get out!”

Braum took a reflexive step forward…and ground to a halt.

“Wait,” he demanded, and his team stopped dead in their tracks. “This isn’t real. This is a dungeon. Remember your training. Remember what you know.”

He closed his eyes and shut the world out. Screams, yells, cries of panic…those could all be heard. Far-off explosions of magic and mortars, devices of war and destruction…those still shook the earth and rattled his bones.

But he was in a dungeon.

He wasn’t in the middle of [The Sundered Breach].

No matter how urgent things might seem, how real it might feel…this was not his war.

“[Breakers], collect yourselves,” Braum commanded. He wasn’t just giving out idle commands; he, too, followed his own advice. And, as was natural for a dungeon, as he should have known…the world continued to cycle in its chaotic state without any real progression happening.

“Hooo,” Angus breathed a sigh of relief. “One hell of an introduction.”

“Let’s take stock,” Rook advised, still on edge, having pulled his daggers and cast a few of his emergency buffs. A solid plan, so Braum did just that.

Now that he had a moment of peace, despite the artificial pandemonium all around him, Braum could see the entrance for what it was. Yes, it was a Human camp, filled with all members of Humanity. There were elves, beastkin, humans, dwarves…even two gnomes helping to maintain the portal. It wasn’t the dungeon’s portal, not the one the [Breakers] had gone through, but one the dungeon portal had been cleverly placed inside. For all the “people” that were running amok, none of them could travel back to the real world in the current day. For all intents and purposes, this was their lives; forever cursed to relive the bloodiest days of the Demon War.

And yes, it was the Demon War.

Alongside the camp, the view from the portal’s hill allowed Braun to survey the valley below, which was filled with devastation…and the enemy’s fortifications on the ridge of hills on the other side. And among the countless troops, Braum could see such beasts and monstrosities that he’d only ever seen in other dungeons and history books: [Pit Lords], [Doom Lords], [Abyssals], and [Infernals]. Beasts that shared the name, but none of the Humanity, with demons.

“Rook,” Braum commanded the group’s historian. “Any idea of the timeframe?”

“You wan’ tha obvious answer, boss?” Rook sassed.

“You could just say no and be done with it,” Braum rolled his eyes. “Early on in the Age of Uncertainty. Demon War. Anything else to add?”

“Near the end o’ it, I’d wager,” Rook said grimly. “I spy [Infernus Ultimata]. The demons didn’t deploy that thing until the end.”

Braum looked across the battlefield to the entrance of a valley leading to the tops of the hills and the demonic fortifications they held. A single, towering [Infernal] stood in the path, blocking everything.

Perhaps it wasn’t one of the massive siege weapons that had thrown the chunk of a building, but that monstrosity instead.

“You think this is earlier or later than [Act 1]?” Braum asked. Rook seemed to give it some serious thought, but in the end he shook his head.

“Impossible to say,” he said sadly. “Not enough information.”

“Then let’s move on,” Braum sighed. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover today, and I don’t fancy trying to sleep in the middle of a war zone.”

The group had hardly taken a step when they got stopped. That [Lieutenant] called out, once again asking if they were here to support the front.

“Adventurers!” He called. “Over here!”

Figuring this was Chaos’ way to guide the narrative, Braum led his team over. As open-ended as some dungeons were, there was usually a way to navigate them built in. Sometimes they were cleverly hidden, but Chaos wanted her stories to be heard, not simply rushed through and tossed aside.

“Fantastic,” the [Lieutenant] beamed as soon as the group approached. “Looks like we finally got some able hands! No need for you to join the fresh recruits; why don’t you make your way down to central command? You’ll know it by the symbol of the crown, the tree, and the hammer. If anybody gives you any lip, tell ‘em you're under orders and Lt. Davis sent you.”

Braum nodded briskly and trotted away. Being polite to a pair of gloves inside a theater was one thing, but there was no room for pleasantries in the army. In fact, the [Lieutenant] had already dismissed them and was back to barking orders at a group of scared, wibbly-wobbly soldiers who barely had a thousand levels between them, stuck in perpetual roll call.

The [Breakers] entered the camp and got a few surprised looks from some inconsequential people who were placed randomly to fill it out, while some important people offered real services. Notably, there was an [Armorer] working a real forge who could probably repair some gear if the upcoming battle went poorly.

But, as the Lt. said, there was a large tent in the middle of camp flying the flags of four major members of mankind…and it was filled to bursting with vital people. A guard at the entrance took their names and classes, holding the flap open so they could step inside.

Doing so must have triggered an advancement. Braum could hear generic muttering coming from inside, but there weren't any real words; just a cacophony of noise designed to sound like boisterous chatter. Braum was certain that if they’d lingered outside, the mindless drivel would have continued forever, just as the endless loop of “fresh recruits” entering the battlefront from the portal would continue as “the wounded” were shipped away. It was all a masterful act to perpetuate the illusion of a hectic, frantic camp.

“By the Light, we have to do something!” a male human growled.

His tag, once [Identified], labeled him as [General Wallace], a once-great man who eventually fell in the defense of Humanity. He was wearing full plate armor and he pounded his gauntleted fist against the wooden table. He had a massive greatsword strapped to his back, and he seemed to be nearing the limits of his patience. While it wasn’t clear at first what was flaring his anger, Braum could certainly puzzle out why. The room itself was divided…literally.

There appeared to be two factions in this tent. Behind him stood a host of importants, generic soldiers without names like [Captain]. [Sergeant], or [Tactician], while across from him was a slew of adventurers. Unlike the military men, the adventurer roles were slightly reversed. The man at the table was a [Guildmaster Riven], and he was surrounded by several small teams of [Rugged] or [Hearty Adventurers]. But there was one huge difference that set his side apart from the others, the whole reason this advance into enemy territory was able to succeed in the first place: the [Daybreakers].

Standing silently awaiting their time to shine were 5 of the most heroic, selfless people this world had ever known: [The Tank], [The Druid], [The Saint], [The Demonologist], and [The Mage].

And yet, beside them, was somebody equally as important, or so Braum was coming to understand; somebody he would have missed entirely if he had not been pondering their existence for the last week straight. A small, peculiar female gnome…adorned only with [???].

Immediately, Braum’s mind began to race. That was her, wasn’t it? The dragon? She was in disguise, of course, as dragons always were, but even more so than Braum was used to. Her usual black hair was mostly gone, taking the reverse form it normally did. It was bright pink with black highlights instead of the other way around, but she still had those piercing, amethyst eyes which, if Braum looked very closely, were suspiciously serpentine.

Did her companions know? Did the army know?

Did they have any idea what they were dealing with?

Braum assumed not, because if they did…perhaps history would have been much, much different.

Braum’s eyes narrowed and his lips formed a tight line, and he was suddenly reminded of the previous [Act] and the [Shadowy Figure] near the end.

Not as they seem…?

More breadcrumbs, fewer answers. But right now wasn’t the time for contemplation.

As soon as the general slammed his fist into the table, the dwarven [Warrior] stepped forward. [The Tank] was revealed (as if it could be anybody else) to be none other than [Hank the Tank], and he retained his stoic, level-headed demeanor he was famous for.

“Ah, just one moment, [General],” he said. He turned to Braum, cementing the idea that their presence had triggered this conversation, and nodded. “Adventurers, I’m glad you’ve made it. With your help, we can turn the tide of battle, and perhaps end this war, once and for all!”

If hearing that sort of plea from the Hero of Humanity didn’t make a man puff out his chest, Braum didn’t know what would.

But it wasn’t his time to speak just yet.

“Ah, reinforcements,” General Wallace said, turning to the group. “You come highly recommended. The [Guildmaster] was just telling us of your deeds, and I can’t think of a better group to lead the auxiliary defense.”

That was…illuminating.

First, laughably, Braum immediately wondered how a fictitious guildmaster staged inside a dungeon could inform anybody about his deeds, especially since a hundred years had passed, but that was an amusing thought in passing. Perhaps Chaos could find a way, but even so, it was a tricky little bit of stagery designed to pull a delver in and really make them feel like they were part of the action. Once again, Braum’s hat was off to the goddess of dungeons.

Second, and more importantly…it subtly informed Braum of his upcoming role. They were not to take part in the [Felling of Infernus], which was a story well told in its own dungeon, where the delvers took the place of the Party of Heroes. There’d be no reason for Chaos to duplicate her dungeons, so she must be telling something else.

“Aye,” Hank agreed. “You can leave the biggun’ to us, so long as you watch our flanks.”

“I could watch your flank all day, big man,” Evra sighed, and Braum found he was intensely grateful that dungeons rarely reacted to idle banter.

“So let’s get down to business,” General Wallace continued (as if there was no questionable interruption). “I know it’s unlikely, but the question begs to be asked: can you subdue the [Infernal]?”

[The Demonologist] stepped forward, leaving his bangs to cover his cursed eyes, even if he let his horns remain on full display. It took no stretch of the imagination to understand why everybody in the room (except the other members of [Daybreakers]) was uneasy with the demon’s presence. Thanatos Sorrowgrave, perhaps the strongest summoner and practitioner of [Warlock] arts the world had ever known. Not even Evra could hold a dim-lit candle to his skill.

“No,” he said in a low, greasy voice that made Braum’s skin crawl. “Not even I, master of hexes, curses, and subjugation, can bend an [Infernal] of that magnitude to my considerable will.”

Yes, there was a reason [Warlocks] fell off in popularity for a while, and his name was Sorrowgrave….

“I see,” Wallace said neutrally after several moments of pontification and waxing eloquent from the self-grandizing [Demonologist]. “Thank you…for that. I dare not question your group’s healing capabilities, especially after witnessing Lady Eluna’s miracles just now. But I must be thorough. Lady Brandywine…are you well enough to continue? Or do you need more time to recover?”

“The Light is with me, General,” the [Saint] said in her musical voice that made Braum want to dance. “I will do what is needed of me.”

“Thank Celestara,” Wallace sighed. “Then I believe that settles it. The plan is simple. The Heroes will engage [Ultimata]. They’ll pull him away from the valley, allowing our troops access to the demon’s stronghold. But while he acts as a living wall, he’s not the only defense the demons have. Adventurer,” he said, turning to Braum. “Your task is this: fight the waves of enemies that are sure to come pouring out of the enemy camp. Keep them off of the Heroes at all costs! They cannot be allowed to falter. They must not be distracted! Defend them with your lives, if need be; the fate of Humanity depends on it!”

“Hmm,” giggled a surprisingly bubbly voice. Once again, if Braum weren’t looking for it, he’d be very confused. He’d wonder who “[???]” was and why she was treating this so jovially. But instead, his face was hardened as he stared down at the smiling gnome. “Don’t you worry, Mr. General Man! We’ve got this under control!”

She said the last two words in a very sing-song fashion, which seemed to irk the man. Or maybe it was the playful, slightly disrespectful way in which she addressed him? Either way, the man bristled his mustache, glanced down at her mingling among the kneecaps, and cast her a stern glare.

“I understand the Heroes speak highly of you, gnome,” he said brusquely. “But what exactly do you add? Each of them have their own titles; what is yours?”

“Oh!” she giggled again. “They’re much more impressive than me! But if you insist, I’m [Melia…the Magnificent]!”

¹

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