Vraxious—Dragon's Lair

  “What...in all of the gods’ names...truly you align yourself with the darkest powers that deign to glance in your direction.” Arthur said in breathless awe as they gazed at the dragon looming imperiously above them.

  “Man, don’t make me regret not leaving you in the fucking tundra.” Vrax shot back and then looked over at the group. Everyone was here, including the two extras.

  An amused rumble shook the bones of everyone present as the dragon slid closer, looking over the battered but mostly whole party. Vrax and Arthur had had a very, very brief discussion where Arthur stated he needed to get back to Hope's path to continue his god-given mission. Vrax had more or less shrugged and let him come; he figured if he was fighting other paladins now, why not set him loose again closer to home? Even the lantern wasn’t stupid enough to fight him four on one.

  They had squared the townsfolk away easily enough. Most were only slightly injured and very frightened. Vrax was fairly certain he now had an entire allied town in the north because saying they were thankful was the understatement of the century. They tried to shower him in touching handmade comforts and more than one pie; Torvald had unilaterally decided all the pies were going in the bag of holding.

  Vrax had declined a few requests from youngsters hoping to become warriors that wanted a mentor. But he did leave them with an invite to Hope's End if that was the path they truly wanted. Vrax was pretty sure it was going to become a knightly recruiting hot spot soon enough.

  The other wrinkle came in the form of a strangely brave violinist that had been a massive help in the battle. The fucker hadn’t even left the stage, and at the low level of twenty-five, he had managed to distract and sow chaos throughout the enemies. Frankly, his abilities plus duchess’s passive making her stronger around fear, was a disgusting combination.

  He had decided to ask if he could tag along as well, wanting to try and finally tackle his first trial. Vrax said yes, of course; honestly, he was a bit scared that if he didn’t duchess would decide it was time for a regime change. She had been mimicking the violin nonstop after the battle and following the poor bastard Edward around until Vrax put her back in the garden.

  Goddammit, we only have a day or so before the meeting with the knights' orders. I'm only going to get to barely step foot in Godsbane before we have to go attend to that. Also, gods, I need to spend some essence. Malay, the bishop they had killed, was on the cusp of the second tier, and he, plus his lackeys and everything else they had fought here, had left a roiling tide of essence in Vrax’s sanctuary, probably enough to reach his second trial.

  The dragons Incomparably deep voice interrupted Vrax’s introspection. “Good, Malaketh wasn’t wrong; that was a joy to watch, like infants taking their first confident steps. Now Godsbane!” Rorigar slammed his tail against one pillar, and it lit up with light. “Back close enough to Hopes Path for the extras.” He grumbled with a chuckle and slammed his tail against the other pillar, and it lit up in a more white-golden hue.

  No one exchanged any more words; Arthur gave Vrax a slow, respectful nod before walking into the pillar's light with a subtle flash followed closely by Edward. Arthur certainly wasn’t an ally, but they at least both had a common enemy now. And it's very obvious that the damn dungeon and whoever Arthur's new god is are pushing all of us further and further into this conflict. I wouldn’t be surprised if the dungeon was just doing it for the shits and giggles…but that's a hell of a lot of effort if that's the case. Something else is going on here, something bigger than our pissing match over property rights.

  Vrax went first, weapon out, carefully stepping into the portal. He almost fell over as his next step was into deep orange glowing moss. The only thing that saved him from a horrible, inglorious death to smelter moss was his reflexes; he instantly used the cistern to drain the life from his surroundings. The moss fizzled out mid-ignition as it melted into a warm, vaguely orange puddle around him.

  “Holy shit…I’ve been here for literally two seconds!” Vrax hatefully whispered at the nearest ivy-wrapped tree. He paused and really looked at the tree. It had thin red and black striations that whirled around on its bark in fractal patterns. I know that tree, Wrathwood? ...if you try and cut it down, it will flat out explode. Oh…we are back in the forsaken lands…should have gotten that from the smelter moss, honestly, but...

  Torvald thudded into the desecrated puddles of rot and looked at Vrax in surprise. “Really? We are already starting to just melt the surroundings for the hell of it.” Vrax went to respond when the other two stepped through.

  “You know, I didn’t really think about it, but if I’m supposed to be your guard and all, maybe I should go first through portals?” Jonathan joked gruffly. Vrax rolled his eyes and thanked all the gods above that stereos at least didn’t feel the need to be as sarcastic as the others every fucking time.

  They found themselves in what looked eerily like a caldera; rocky walls rimmed the fairly large depression covered in thorny branches that seemed to sprout from the rock itself. They had an entrancing icy glow to them, and Vrax saw one bird that alighted on them get snatched and pulled deeper into the tangle of thorns.

  The forested surroundings were dense, scarily so. The swirling trees were utterly laden with vines stringing from canopy to canopy like curtains that nearly blotted out the twilight above. The glow of smelter moss could barely be seen in patches past the thick trees. And most urgently, therewere quite a few tree stumps where something had cleaved into the wraithwood, causing it to detonate and dot its surroundings with arm-sized slivers of wood.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  A stubby humanoid crossed with a hungry mushroom excitedly wandered towards them from a nearby dip in the ground. Its eyes alight with burning blue power that seemed to be cooking it from the inside, a slight hissing came from the plumes of steam escaping its cap. “Oh hell, here we go again,” Torvald huffed, stepping farther away from Vrax.

  “Hostile?” Jonathan asked tensely, stepping closer to Vrax.

  Vrax quickly stepped back and desperately started riffling through his bag looking for a tarp or anything to protect him from what he knew was coming. “No, not hostile, just...messy...”

  The Myconid spread its arms wide. “Hello there, my favorite monster making trouble! You finally made it! This is normally where I do the big reveal and…” The myconid exploded violently, showering hunks of slightly burning plant across the clearing.

  “Egghhh,” Torvald groaned, pulling a steaming hunk from his hair. Vrax chuckled from behind an upraised tarp he was crouched behind. He had gotten it out just in time to protect his already gross enough cloak from the mushroom spatter. Stereos looked shell-shocked, slowly wiping the front of his robe in a vain effort to stop the blue ichor from seeping into it.

  Another myconid apparated from the nearby bushes, a bigger one this time, and just kept talking like nothing had happened. “…Tell you my real name is Malaketh! But, well, that particular surprise had been revealed already...like three times...anyway! Godsbane! It's a collection of rooms, sort of, and larger floors strewn throughout the forsaken lands!” The myconid exploded with a sticky pop.

  Torvald was ready this time, charging with perfect timing to avoid the spatter. Stereos looked like he wished to cry as another meaty shower of chunks spattered down on his previously pristine robes. “I…don’t have cleaning spells.” He said softly, “And...this doesn’t count as blood...I tried...” He finished sadly.

  Jonathan was covered nearly head to toe in blue gore and had plucked an arm-sized hunk of steaming myconid off his shoulder, seeming not too bothered by it all. “Huh...well, this is weird as fuck, but better than the dragon... Hey Vrax, are these edible?” He waved the limp myconid arm at Vrax questioningly.

  “Really?” Vrax asked in astonishment as the next myconid popped out of the bushes next to them.

  “What? I like mushrooms.” Jonathan said defensively and then gave the arm a curious nibble. “Eghh, oh gods no...tastes like my bathwater had a baby with a rotten apple...maybe as a tart?”

  The myconid was bigger again this time. Why doesn’t he just start with the big ones! “After you complete each floor, you step on a teleport anchor and say the next room number! You can get to Godsbane from any of my many, many anchors!” There was a poignant pause, and everyone braced for the steaming explosion. “Huh…I guess this one is extra sturdy...anyway, good luck! When you leave, I can plop you out either close to Hope's Path or the Forsaken Lands. Convenient as hell, right! Also! Now that you are finally here!” The mycnid detonated at the same time as a system prompt popped up, to Vrax’s surprise.

  [King’s Claim Diplomacy Offer Initiated]

  [Malaketh, Owner Of Godsbane Dungeon]

  This entity has offered a mutual defense pact. If you or this entity’s claims are threatened, you must make the best efforts to aid in their defense or face severe system-administered penalties.

  Vrax reeled for a moment; he wasn’t even sure what Malaketh would get out of this or, hell, what he would get either. Can it even defend me if its reach is just the dungeon but... Vrax looked around the caldera. Malaketh’s reach was absurd; he had just teleported them from dozens of leagues away, and this dungeon apparently sprawled like damned roots around the forsaken lands.

  “Why?” Vrax asked cautiously.

  “Why not…” Came from the next myconid; this one looked different—the blue power oozing from it wasn’t cooking it. And its flesh was a steely shimmering black. “I don’t get to shake up the world very often anymore; there are only so many machinations I can really enjoy in my depths…but you…you are drawing the ire of every asshole with a god complex.”

  Vrax’s face scrunched up. “So for entertainment? No other purpose? I mean, I absolutely understand the value in being an asshole for the fun of it, but can you even uphold a mutual defense pact with your situation…?”

  “Entertainment…and a touch of agency. I’ll be able to move my monsters far more freely from my halls within your kingdom in times of danger. And good old-fashioned revenge... Rembrand and I have a bone to pick that I haven’t been able to act on in a thousand years… You have become the best opportunity for that I've ever had.” Malaketh’s words rolled forth with ever-increasing power; the very trees around them quivered by the end. That's far too personal.

  “Who are you really?” Vrax asked cautiously. “This all seems…too convenient.”

  “Who I was is what matters. Malaketh, fallen god of games and contests. When others fought to the end or…simply lay in wait…like your grumpy-ass feast father. I chose a different path…is it great? No...but even in my limited capacity, being a dungeon has let me build some of the greatest challenges this world has ever seen.” There was a long pause as everyone just absorbed what Malaketh said; he was claiming to actually be a god…or at least to have been one.

  [Mutual Defense Pact Accepted]

  “Excellent! It's going to be fun watching the collective stroke that gives other rulers as well. Enjoy Godsbane Vrax, and know that you have at least a helping hand now. If it's somewhere close to Godsbane, I won't be able to annihilate armies for you, but I can certainly make them wade through some very unfun bullshit.” The myconid trundled away without another word.

  What the hell just happened? I just officially made my first powerful ally; that's what just happened. Ha...wait, fuck, what’s the challenge in this “room”...oh goddammit, he isn’t going to help me here, is he? That would be cheating…

  Torvald broke the silence. “As much as I really, really want to talk about everything that just happened…we have more pressing issues... I think this room’s boss just found us…”

  Vrax jumped slightly; whatever it was was dead silent, unnaturally so. Unkind black pits the size of his head stared at him from the shadows behind a tree straight ahead. It had a humanoid body that was grotesquely bulging with muscle around the torso and a pair of long legs that ended in wide three-toed talons. Arms sprouted from its sides and shoulders and wrapped around from its back. None are the same in size or length, each ending in awful hooked fingers with a leech-like mouth on the palm.

  Every other inch of its revolting mottled black and sickly blue flesh was dotted with spines of hooked bone that jutted through its own flesh, leaving weeping wounds. The final feature was almost worse than the rest; where there should be a mouth or a maw of fangs on its face, instead there was a roiling black crystal that hurt on a deep spiritual level to even look at. Vrax tentatively activated the predator’s gaze on the abomination as other things began shifting forward in the shadows of the trees. [Lifedrinker Tier-1](lvl75) [Threat: Extreme] Oh fuck...he's stuffed Godsbane full of things from deeper into the forsaken lands.