Vol. 3, Ch. 151: The Dark Roads
Neska was impressed: she’d never activated her hex that broadly, nor had she double-activated her [Verdant Weave] at the same time, boosting the hex dramatically, and the entire forest of mushrooms and rockwoods erupted in limbs and vines, disrupting the creatures hiding in the shadows by the dozen.
Said creatures looked like almost half-sized nagas, or lizardlike humanoids, with long tails, long claws, snake-like heads, and far more teeth than Neska cared to count. Their coloration varied, from viper green to olive, to almond, and black.
She also didn’t care to count the sheer number of arrows and sling bullets fired in their direction as her hex activated, wrapping rocky limbs and albino vines around the interlopers, flailing around the canopy for anything that wasn’t a plant.
They found plenty of non-plant things, and crushed them down, pinning many in place.
Meanwhile, the hailstorm of arrows and bullets shot forth, with Neska sliding her body horizontally to shield as many of her friends as she could, her [Ward barrier] flashing ominously red with the multiple hits. Juni covered the other portion of the team with her stone shield, but Neska felt her barrier shatter. A stray arrow pierced through her scales, drawing a gasp of pain from her.
A split second later, Juni raised her stone skin, covering Neska in a protective barrier. “Sorry, there were so many!”
“Focus on the threat! Up high, aim for my vines and roots!” Neska took out an alchemically coated arrow she’d figured they might need down here, which essentially bottled up the sun and put it into a potion. She fired it skyward, hitting the cavern ceiling far above them, and bathed the room in a magnesium white light.
She had no idea how useful this one might be in her venoms, other than illuminating someone like a living glow lantern. For now, it lit up the darkness like daytime, illuminating their ensnared foes and the others shielding their eyes from the glare. Some wailed at the sight of such illumination as the alchemical charge burned in the embedded arrow.
Hadley, Brent, and the others didn’t waste the opportunity as they returned fire, striking numerous foes with a deadly array of arrows and fiery bolts; Durim chucked his axe in a dead spin to chop one down the middle, and Syra turned a few into bloody smears with her high-pressure water jets.
Neska fired off mana-charged arrows, pinning several targets before they could fight back. She ignored the pain in her serpentine lower body and slithered to cover in the trees when the creatures she hadn’t pinned down returned fire with more arrows.
Brent leaped into gear, bounding through the trees and slicing with impunity. Neska saw some of it, creating a trailing misty cloud in his wake, showcasing his abilities. His foes quickly fell with rasping gurgles and limp bodies soon crashing to the forest floor.
“Sound off! Any targets remaining?” Kalloway barked out.
“We’re good!” Juni had made three into pincushions, wincing when she realized the severity of the error. “Damn it, that almost put me over the cap, too!”
“All taken care of over here,” Brent called out. A small sonic gust fixed his fur, and he grunted as he pulled a dagger out of his leg. “Nasty little things. I think they’ve poisoned their blades and arrows, too.”
“Typical.” Neska ignored the toxin warning and her increasing resistance to reptiloid venom. At this rate, she’d be immune to almost every toxin as a trial by fire.
She hissed and pulled at the arrowhead, watching blood slowly leak. “Fantastic. I think they were aiming for most of those at me.”
Syrona dove toward her, a potion hanging from her tongue. Neska shook her head. “Not a big ouchie, dear. I'll heal naturally, but thank you nonetheless.”
Syrona pouted, then slurped the potion vial back into her mouth and wrapped around Neska's shoulders.
“Uh…does Syrona have your bottomless stomach too?” Kalloway asked in an edged tone.
“Yesssss?”
“And she carries potions?”
“Or alchemical explosives. She might be cute, or might murder our foes. Depends on the situation,” she shrugged.
Juni laughed. “She's a scale off the old snake, how about that! Besides, I think it’d take more than a few arrows to put you down, Neska,” she pointed out. “Jurik, Hadley, let’s see if we left any of them alive, and if they’re in a talking mood.”
“Did you hit your level cap?” Neska asked worriedly.
Juni shook her head. “No. But I sense I’m getting close. The Interface doesn’t spell out, exactly, how much of our endeavors grant it. Either from exerting the body and soul, or conflict against others. But you can sort of sense it after a while. It’d be nice to have a gauge for it, you know?”
Neska peered at one of the first of their attackers, its chest and neck pierced by one of her arrows. She pried both of them out, noting how the creatures bled blue-black blood. Their scale patterns were rougher, the individual scales larger on them compared to her. They wore no clothing but did adorn themselves with primitive amulets of bone and other grisly prizes–fingers, ears, and she winced when she saw one with a moldering eyeball strung on a cord of braided vine.
She was pretty sure the eye was human. That spoke ominously of their routine diet. Or pastimes. “Jurik, Hadley. Recognize these creatures?”
“Terran lizardlings. They’re related to kobolds, but not,” Jurik summed up, wincing as he rubbed at a grazing wound on his cheek. “I think their poisons are being neutralized by our armor. Nice.”
“Are they Varadur?” Neska followed up with her next concern, while Jurik tapped the handle of his weapon, then calmly surveyed the bodies.
After a moment of consideration, he shook his head. “No. Though I do applaud their patience and planning that ambush. That was…what, a dozen of them?”
“Fifteen.” Brent wiped a dark smear off his armor and rubbed his daggers on a pale leafy frond nearby. “None breathing. I think the locals are hostile. Odd, though, that they thought that fifteen was enough to take down several Awakened and a few veteran caster classes and warriors. Did they think that would actually work?”
Neska ignored that throbbing pain radiating down her serpentine body that cooled the further it traversed through her. Her [What doesn’t kill you makes you weirder] Title was putting in some work this time around.
She knelt and looked at the last fallen one, sliced from chest to throat by Brent’s daggers. “Why don’t you use your claws, anyway?”
He shrugged. “You’re not the first person to ask that. Technically speaking, my claws and teeth will be more effective than any weapon I can wield, after a certain point.”
He sheathed both blades, sighing softly. “But it isn't that simple. This is how I was trained. I never forgot that muscle memory. Same thing with your bow. You're talented with it. You practiced for years with it, given how much that muscle memory is ingrained in the soul.”
He did make a good point. “So, does anyone else think that something looks a little…off about these things?”
“You mean the fact that they're dead?” Brent asked, puzzled.
Jurik and Hadley took the cue, and Jurik knelt to examine another. “Strange. They look almost identical. Minus their little mementos of battle and scarring.”
“Limited mating pool, maybe?” Hadley suggested. “These are all male. Just like the goblins we fought in the hive, though that was under different circumstances.”
“No, they look nearly all identical, minus a little variation in their body builds.” Jurik rose and tapped his chin. “The question is, why?”
“We should get out of this mini forest as soon as possible,” Neska said after uncoiling and gesturing toward their original pathway. “It’s unnerving that they all look identical. Like someone used a mimicoid to replicate them unerringly.”
The worst part was, she had no idea what to make of it, and neither did Jurik or the others. “So, I think our pathway is that-a-way,” Durim pointed at an opening just beyond some overgrowth mushroom trees that partially obscured the glowstones growing out of the rock, illuminating it in with something closer to sunlight with a warm orange tone.
“But, samples,” Trevor protested.
“Um, I think I’ll pass on wearing armor made of creatures closely resembling me, thanks,” Neska said sourly. She tapped her vest gently. “The current armor set shall suffice. I don’t think we’re going to find Markus down here in a day.”
“We still have less than a day,” Syra reminded her. The spiderweb of mana had propagated further along her body, shimmering like the rocks of the cavern walls. “Hey, where’d you learn to sing like that, anyway, from before?”
“Honestly? Risha.” She rose and dusted off her gear. “C’mon. I’m pretty sure magic and danger are the only things awaiting us further down.”
A short walk later, the tunnel opened wider. Now it looked like they were walking inside a massive colosseum underground. The light from their lanterns couldn’t reach the far ends of the room, and Kalloway motioned for Durim to dim his. Light worked both ways: illuminating the way, and alerting foes they now knew lurked down here. This particular room looked natural, like the previous underground jungle, and a network of leafy plants, moss, and lichens lined the damp floor.
A trickle of water dripped down somewhere, and Neska noted several water streams seeping down the cavern walls in places. “Where are we right now?” she asked in a low voice.
“Deeper. At least a full thousand feet deep beneath the surface,” Juni answered. Durim continued to check his map as she noted the pacing. “You know the thing is, when you’re underground, you get used to measuring space. It’s everything down here, plus vectors of tunnel paths.”
“Meaning?” Jurik asked calmly.
“I think we’re somewhere directly underneath Rivilat, the broader city. Take a look, there.”
Somewhere far above, just within visible range, were a series of pipes running along the ceiling of the cavern. They looked old and tarnished, with what Neska sensed were several repairs patched in over the years, and steam leaked on occasion through small vents. The fact that it was operational, and their installation intersected with this natural cavern, spoke to the checkered and piecemeal construction underneath the plateau, taking advantage of the natural caverns as a building baseline.
“What’s that? Pressurized line?” Kalloway shone the light a little brighter. “We’re so far below the city that I don’t think it’s part of Rivilat proper. There might be another layer of construction between here and the surface.”
“It’s more amazing it’s still working. That construction looks ancient. Steel or iron would have rusted out to oblivion by now,” Trevor pointed out. “Steam quality matters, and if it has any contamination from salts or other dissolved minerals, it ruins the piping fast. This must be made of some nonreactive, durable material. Good construction work.”
“Not dwarven,” Durim murmured. He pointed to another point where the pipes teed off and were bracketed into the cavern wall with regular spacing. An access ladder to perform maintenance stood nearby. “Human, maybe. Or gnomish.”
“The gnomish aren’t exactly populous in this region. You’d find them more to the north, closer to Arivol,” Jurik reasoned. “But, given that we’ve established these city layers were built with a composite of magical and technological means from various species, anything’s possible.”
“What do you think it’s powering?” They continued walking in relative silence to cover ground. “You think Markus or those lizardlings could have constructed this? Or utilized what already exists down here?”
“Markus was a pragmatic son of a bitch. It’s possible,” Kalloway muttered.
“You’ve said shockingly little about him,” Neska said as they slithered past the pipework and into a narrower carved passageway. A set of broad, gently sloped stairs led further down, going in a spiral. “Why is that?”
“What do you want me to say? That Risha’s first Awakened had problems? They all did.”
“You blame yourself.”
“There are a lot of things I can’t look in the mirror and face, Neska, but Markus is not one of them. I knew there was a lot wrong with him that you couldn’t see on the surface, not directly. He was violent.”
“Before? Or after he was Awakened?”
“Both. But it got worse afterward.” The stairwell opened out into a large commons area where the ruins of several buildings lay bare for all to see. A single shaft of light shone from the ceiling, and Neska swore it was daylight.
“So, who was he before he became a living experiment?”
“He was going to be her apprentice.”
“Him?” She wanted to laugh at that. “He clearly has a different skill set, Kalloway, if you hadn’t noticed–”
“I taught him.”
She came to a halt, staring at him. “You?”
“Along with many other students. But Risha always favored him for some reason, back when we were busy trying to come up with a solution to the Varadur. Arivol had fallen overnight, Neska,” he said, with everyone slowing down. “Markus was a bit…different compared to most others. His training was in martial combat. But his class was that of a Witch, for some odd reason. Or maybe a witch with a more physical impact in the world.”
“Why didn’t you say this before?”
“It wasn’t relevant. At first. Those first two years, as we tried to figure out what the monsters were and where they came from, Risha was training him to be her viper, in a sense. Her shadow in places where she couldn’t get to, not easily and not without being seen. Markus’ witch hexes and blessings followed that path of subterfuge.”
“That’s how he knew so much about me. He learned it all from you two,” Neska fumed, eyes narrowed. “Well, that’s fantastic.”
“Would you please keep an open mind? Just because we taught him does not mean we are responsible for what he did with that knowledge. In fact, much of what we taught him was ignored and shoved aside for what he wanted. He, too, was from Arivol.”
"As a bastard of Lachmir, huh?" Kalloway winced the second she said that. "So it's true, huh?"
"I suspected, having met Lachmir once or twice, and comparing the two, they look similar. To think I could have ended the insanity so long ago, it frustrates me."
A sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach opened up. “And let me guess, Markus met up with Risha when she was doing research at the Arivolian Arcanistry Institute. That’s where it started.”
“Not to defend my colleague too much? But some students have dangerous ambitions to challenge current knowledge and gather power for themselves, in whatever way they deem necessary,” Durim grunted, motioning everyone forward. “We should conclude this later, during rest. I’m still uneasy about what those lizardlings were doing down here. They’re not a primitive, backwater monster species. They’re not quite to the level of kobolds, who are just as smart as you and me, but they’re up there. Higher than goblins, at any rate.”
“That’s not saying much,” Brent grumbled. “What’s weird is I don’t see any other tracks. Or smell anything. They could have just walked in and out of there.”
“Or maybe they swam in. No scent, no tracks,” Syra countered. Brent tilted his head, as if considering it. “It’s what I’d do,” she added sweetly.
“Oh, I do like the idea. But it felt like a planned ambush. It felt like they were waiting for someone to come through.”
“As guards?”
“Let’s hope we got them all, if that’s the case.” Nearby, an electric crackle sounded, and hissing steam let loose from something. Everyone tensed as they descended the stairs to the bottom, which opened to an area filled with rusted metal lockers. Neska could make out what looked like rusted helmets with small glow lanterns embedded on top. Opening another locker, she saw fragments of what had been uniforms or other protective gear, and mining picks, their handles long since rotted and their cutting points dulled.
“Is there a mine down here?” Neska whispered.
“There are mana deposits of higher densities underneath the plateau. The problem is accessibility. Though there is a mine track that we were still in the process of clearing out from multiple collapses.” Durim tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe other sections are cleared off, or this is a different track. The one we’ve cleared near the staging area is only about two hundred feet below the surface, and we’re way deeper than that. They have a name for these tracks, some of which could accommodate massive steam behemoths of steel, hauling ore for hundreds of miles. The Dark Roads.”
“The name is on point. So what’s this got to do with anything else?”
“My point is, if Markus has been reconnecting abandoned and destroyed rails, using the local monstrous species, then he could have access to wide terrain without being seen. Hell, this one could go all the way to Arivol if the dwarven engineers built it right.”
“Could the Varadur use these tunnels? That’s unsettling,” Juni breathed, voice tensed. “Of course, this takes a lot of assumptions into play. That Markus has the means and methods to clear such damage accrued from hundreds, if not thousands of years of neglect and lack of maintenance, and he would need expert engineers to do it.
“Never underestimate the power of an obsessed man. That’s how we got the Sundering,” Kalloway said, gritting his teeth. “I’ll never make that same mistake twice, not a chance.”
A minute later, they stood in a somewhat serviced rail plaza, with several derelict rail carts sitting in several bays, with small lever gates directing them on and off the main track. Several looked newer and well serviced. The rails themselves were shiny metal, looking as new as the day it was forged.
“Oh, looky. Someone knows their alloys. Bit of steel, a dash of mithril to resist corrosion and add hardness, and you’ve got a rail track that’ll outlast whoever builds it,” Durim said proudly.
“Someone’s been at work here,” Neska noted several metal tubes dripping steaming hot water were connected to several receptacles, and flexible hoses with locking valves were connected to a manifold. “Wonder what those are for?”
“Steam boiler refill? Maybe. Or fuel pumping. There are a couple of ways about it if they were using those magitech steam engines,” Trevor pointed out. “But do you think Markus could have done all this on his own, or even with a handful of dedicated students? No way. That would take far, far too much effort beyond his current means, if I had to hazard a guess.”
“Scavengers? Someone local, trying to quietly hit paydirt and ignore the crisis brewing overhead with the Varadur, maybe,” Syra suggested. “Not everyone wants to fight. Some just want to hide and hope the monsters will be satisfied with a large enough land grab. I think they’re going to be sadly disappointed.”
“How can people just ignore the pending crisis?” Trevor asked, sighing.
“Same way most of the island continents mostly ignore it: this is our problem to fix,” she replied. “Ocearia never committed more than a token effort, even when one of the secondary rifts opened up.”
“These rifts…we've spoken of them, but what are they?” Neska asked.
“Leaks from the Umbral Shoal. Or, that's the closest analogy I have,” Kalloway answered. “The rifts all went into a passive or inert state, not spilling things out directly. But they have been changing the terrain like the Instance Cores do, as has been discussed. But slower.”
Jurik cleared his throat to gain attention. “Meaning, if we don't shut off the source, even if we beat back the monsters? We still have to deal with them so they don't open back up, or invite more horrifying things. Unfortunately, direct observation has been difficult, due to their locations deep behind enemy lines.”
“And that means reverse engineering whatever Lachmir or his arcanists did. With no notes. Great,” Trevor sighed.
“It makes Risha's death hurt a lot more,” Kalloway offered grimly, as they advanced to the least damaged cart. “I pray that none of those rifts opened up under our feet. These monsters don't behave or look like Varadur, but…the deeper we go, the stranger this place gets. Plus, I'm concerned about how each of these city layers came to an abrupt end.”
“Oh, seeing the value now?” Durim said, a grin slowly emerging.
“What I'm seeing is a giant puzzle when we're not aware of all the pieces. So, question: who wants to ride the cart and see where it goes?”
Neska glared at Kalloway and pointed her tail at herself. “Do I look like I’ll fit in that cart? It's going to be a squeeze.”
“You're rope-shaped; you fit anywhere!” Juni scoffed.
“I still have bones, miss flexible,” Neska retorted.
Durim pointed to a larger cart with a significant-sized cargo hold on one end. “Well, we could try that one. But how's it powered?”
“Small steam boiler.” Trevor peered into the lead cart, and a small pile of coal lay on one end, and the flow of a fire in a small stove washed across his face. “Oh, that's warm. There are some linkages and levers to operate this. Let's see if I can figure this out before we get into this death machine on wheels.”
“What an assuring endorsement,” Brent sighed. “Jurik, any experience with mines?”
“No good ones, not involving carts.”
A few minutes later, Trevor had figured it out. “Okay, this is easier than it looks. It's a standard steam boiler powering a camshaft, and when you engage the clutch, it drives the wheels. You can raise or lower the pressure of the system to control speed, add more fuel to boost it, a locking brake to…”
He trailed off as everyone stared. “What?”
“That was too many words to say ‘Yeah, I can drive a death machine’. Thought you ought to know,” Durim chuckled. “Alright, I'll ride up front with the young master. Everyone else, let's get aboard, and see who left this thing running.”
This was a first for Neska: a steam-powered ride. She just hoped it wasn't her last as she clambered over the cart walls and settled in a tight coil, with Syrona flittering about, diving through the steam emitted by the boiler, trailing vapor behind her wings.
At least her familiar was having fun. She just hoped she could add to her fun experiences, as the wheels ground on the rail and the contraption spun into motion. Soon, the darkness grew darker as they descended ever deeper under the plateau.
They gotta hit bottom sometime...right? The Paths of Od Nua are more than a subtle inspiration to this undermountain location.