The Empress of Beasts, page 7
part #13 of The Wandering Inn Series
“Definitely. I’ll send a [Message]. To Pallass’ Guild. Get some insight.”
Bevussa nodded. She straightened, looked at her team, and jerked her head.
“Alright! Everyone got all the feathers? Back to the safe zones!”
Both teams moved in tandem, marching back down the dungeon corridors. Bevussa watched the markings on each wall, checking for outlined traps, navigating back towards the hole in the dungeon that the adventuring teams had climbed down. She and Keldrass kept an eye out, only relaxing when they were in areas cleared of monsters.
They knew it was clear because the first thing they saw was a wall. A palisade, rather. It was made of metal and blocking a tunnel. It was one of dozens the adventuring teams had set up in the dungeon. This one was designed to let adventurers fleeing a threat bail over the top if need be; Keldrass and his team clambered over while Bevussa’s team just flew. But Bevussa knew that before they left the dungeon, unless they were in full retreat, the teams would seal the tunnel completely.
“Classic dungeon tactics. Seal areas one by one. Create safe zones. Deplete monster reserves.”
Keldrass rolled over the top of the palisade and landed on the ground with a crash of metal. He got back up and Bevussa saw his armor flicker a dozen colors. She grunted as she helped pull him up.
“Nice armor. You got that from the Raskghar?”
Her voice was envious; she hadn’t gotten anything nearly as good in the lottery. Keldrass grinned.
“Magical. I could walk through a [Fireball] and not blink.”
“Yeah, yeah. It doesn’t make you any more agile. Come on, let’s seal this palisade and see how the other teams are going. We cleared two corridors today. There’s about eight thousand more to go, but that Minotaur’s map says there’s one of those unopened treasure rooms eight corridors further than where we went. I don’t trust his word at all, but if there’s a chance…”
Keldrass frowned at Bevussa as he helped the rest of his team over the palisade.
“You don’t trust him?”
“What, a traitor that allied with monsters?”
Bevussa folded her wing arms. Keldrass paused, sniffing the air.
“Phew, reeks in here. Those Bagrhavens stink. I usually don’t smell anything but smoke. Anyways, Bevussa. Good soldiers snap. I’ve seen it in the army. You too.”
Bevussa had to agree. About the smell. She waved a wing in front of her face, scowling.
“That’s different. This was—”
The Garuda broke off. So did Keldrass. Issa was waving at Bevussa urgently.
“Captain! I just got a [Message]!”
She unrolled a scroll. Bevussa leapt over to her.
“What is it? Facestealer?”
Instantly, both teams were on alert. Keldrass looked up, his posture tense. Issa shook her head as Bevussa snatched the scroll and read.
“No. It’s from that Silver-rank team. Vuliel Drae. It’s her.”
“The Mask Warrior?”
One of Keldrass’ teammates exclaimed excitedly. Bevussa frowned. She noted the coordinates.
“So the mysterious adventurer’s here, is she? Keldrass, you want to meet this mystery adventurer?”
“The one who helps other adventuring teams?”
The Drake raised a brow. Bevussa scowled.
“Yeah. I want to convince her to come to the guild. Or at least identify her. We still have no idea who she is. And from what I heard, she had something to do with the Face-Eater Moth attack on Liscor—”
“She’s an adventurer. We don’t pry. Besides, she could be Named.”
Keldrass grunted. Bevussa shook her head.
“Hah. Named Adventurer? I’ll eat my tail if that’s the case. Er, wings. I’m going to catch her before she runs off. You in?”
The Drake swished his armored tail for a moment before nodding.
“Go. We’ll catch up. We have to seal this tunnel first.”
“Got it. Don’t be slow!”
Bevussa took wing, calling for her team. They flew after her, disappearing down the corridor in seconds. Keldrass heard a snort from another Drake.
“Don’t be slow. Lizard-faced hatchlings. What, do they not see our armor?”
“Shut it. Let’s get this wall up.”
Keldrass exhaled a plume of smoke wearily. He looked around for the other half of the palisade so they could anchor the wall and seal any monsters that might creep through. Then Keldrass frowned. He looked up.
The ceiling was fairly high overhead. And it was dark, but Keldrass didn’t remember seeing any murals on the dark stone when they’d passed through last time. Only now, there was a pale ivory and yellow…thing…
The Drake’s eyes widened. The crawling bone-thing stared down at him, its face a mask of yellowed bone hung with scraps of rotten flesh. He opened his mouth, the fire building in his lungs.
“Abov—”
The Ceiling Crawler dropped on him. Four more launched themselves down at the Flamewardens, biting and tearing with their limbs of sharpened bone.
——
“It’s really good to see you again, um, Miss Warrior?”
Toren smiled. Of course, she was already smiling, but now she traced a smiley face on her mask. Insill smiled back. The Drake [Rogue] edged closer, eying the two dead Ghouls. One had been shot neatly in the head by Larr’s arrow and struck in the chest by several arrows Anith had conjured. The second had been beheaded by Toren’s blade.
“You always seem to appear when you’re needed. I mean, the dungeon’s sort of your home, isn’t it? We’re really grateful. Again.”
“Not that we needed her! I had it all under control! Right, Pekona?”
Dasha called out loudly as she swung her axe into the skull of the last crawling zombie. Pekona made a snorting sound as she cleaned her curved blade; she and Dasha had hacked through the group of zombies following the Ghoul. Anith just sighed. And Toren smiled.
Vuliel Drae had been surprised by the undead attack. Not too surprised; they’d cut through the group with Toren’s timely arrival with no issue. But Toren had been slightly surprised to see so many undead. So had Anith. He knelt by one body, frowning at the loose armor it wore.
“Hm. A [Soldier]’s gear. And undead? The last expeditions ran into very few undead. I thought we had exterminated most of them already.”
“Maybe some fell into the dungeon. Hah! Anyways, they’re just fodder! Although—hey, Insill! Check the bodies! See if any of them are carrying anything valuable! I’ll pull the armor off this lot. We can probably sell it for some good—hey! Pekona!”
Dasha protested as Pekona pulled her back by the hair. The part-Dwarf woman spun around. Pekona’s expression was as disapproving as Anith’s.
“We don’t loot the dead.”
“Since when? We used to do it all the time! Zombie corpses have chainmail? That’s free chainmail!”
Anith coughed, looking at Toren and then at Dasha.
“I believe since we were able to earn enough to outfit ourselves, Dasha. It is about respect. It may be permissible to search their belongings, but at least leave them their clothes.”
The Dwarf’s face fell.
“What, all of them? At least take the armor and swords…”
“And why do I have to search the bodies? I’m talking with Miss Warrior here!”
Insill complained, looking back from Toren to his team. Larr sighed.
“You’re the [Rogue].”
“So? What does that have to do with anything?”
Pekona, Anith, Dasha, and Larr all looked at Insill. He wavered.
“Well? I don’t like searching bodies.”
“But you are the [Rogue]. There.”
Pekona folded her arms. Insill spluttered.
“But that’s…”
Toren patted him on the shoulder. Insill looked around and Toren squatted next to a body. She turned it over and rummaged around. She offered Insill a handkerchief. He hesitated.
“Um. Well, I guess that’s useful, but not exactly what…”
The Drake glanced over his shoulder. Dasha tapped the side of her head and mouthed ‘crazy’ until Pekona slapped her hand down. Anith shook his head.
“Miss Warrior, thank you again. But some ah, other adventurers have been asking about you. If you’d consent to stay so they can speak with you, we’d be grateful.”
Toren looked up, alarmed and intrigued. Adventurers wanted to speak with her? She adjusted the mask uneasily. Was her cover blown? Maybe she should…
She began edging away from Vuliel Drae. Flustered, Insill raised his claws.
“No, wait! They just want to talk! We’re not trying to accuse you of anything! Or blame you for…”
He bit his tongue. Toren looked at him. Blame her? Had she done something wrong?
“Insill, you idiot. You have the biggest mouth of any Drake I’ve ever met!”
Dasha cursed. Insill flushed.
“I just meant.”
“If you’ll let me explain.”
Anith stepped forwards, bowing apologetically. Toren looked around. She heard flapping wings. And in the distance, what sounded like whispering…
“Aha! Hold it right there!”
A giant bird-woman flew down the tunnel. Toren stared, lifted her sword, and prepared to slash. She halted as Insill darted forwards.
“No, wait! That’s Captain Bevussa! The Wings of Pallass!”
Toren froze. The Garuda landed in front of her, staring.
“Well, well. So this is the mysterious Masked Warrior all the teams are talking about. Hello. Bevussa Slenderscale. Wings of Pallass. Gold-rank team. Before you run off, mind if I have a word?”
Toren paused. She stared at Bevussa. A Gold-rank adventurer? She didn’t look like much. The skeleton saw a few magical items at her belt, some enchanted leather armor, a magical shortsword…she nodded slowly, eying the other Drakes who alighted behind Bevussa.
The Garuda smiled. But she was watching Toren carefully. Vuliel Drae hesitated, but Bevussa was a Gold-rank Captain. The Garuda spoke briskly, peering at Toren’s mask, her clothed body.
“Sorry to bother you, but we’d heard there was a solo adventurer in this dungeon. One that refused to leave the dungeon. I couldn’t believe it myself. Someone surviving this long alone? But I suppose anything’s possible. The thing is—you wouldn’t happen to be able to speak, would you?”
Toren paused. She considered this, and then shook her head. Bevussa nodded slowly.
“Mute? Vow of silence? Cursed?”
The skeleton shrugged unhelpfully. She didn’t like all these questions. Nor did she like Bevussa’s tone. She liked Vuliel Drae and the little Drake standing nervously by her side. Not the Garuda. Bevussa sighed. She folded her wings and looked at Toren.
“Miss. Miss…Warrior? I know we’re both adventurers, but let me be honest. Liscor’s Adventurer Guild’s Guildmistress would like to speak with you about some incidents in the dungeon. The Face-Eater Moth attack on Liscor, for one. We’re not saying it was your fault! But you had a role in how it happened. And frankly, after this situation with the Minotaur, we want to treat anyone staying in the dungeon with care. Do you…are you aware about the situation with the Raskghar? The Minotaur?”
She looked at Toren. The skeleton gave her a blank look and turned her head to Insill. The Drake hesitated.
“Well, what happened was…”
“You can tell her all about it. Above. Miss Warrior, it won’t be for more than a few hours, but we need to talk with you. You can write, can’t you? Let’s go to Liscor and you’ll be free to come back here…or we could find you a team. It can’t be easy staying below. Come on, come with us, please?”
Bevussa tried a smile and held out one claw-hand. But Toren was instantly alarmed. What had she just said? Go above? For hours? That would be death. She slowly stepped back, shaking her head.
“What? No? Why not? I mean, what’s wrong?”
Toren just kept shaking her head. Bevussa paused. She looked at Vuliel Drae.
“What’s wrong?”
“No idea. But she never wants to go above. She does that all the time. Annoying, ain’t it?”
Dasha answered unhelpfully. Bevussa exhaled slowly. She looked at her team, but they were waiting for her.
“Where’s Keldrass when you need him? Excuse me, Miss Warrior—”
Toren hopped backwards. Bevussa paused, and then she did frown.
“I have to insist.”
Shake, shake. Toren crossed her arms for further emphasis. No going above. No way. Bevussa paused.
“Captain Slenderscale, it is her choice. She’s a fellow adventurer…”
Anith murmured to Bevussa. She scowled at him and the Jackal [Mage] hesitated.
“I’m aware, Anith. But if I don’t get her to come with me, Guildmistress Tekshia will have my feathers…Miss! Can you at least identify yourself?”
Toren paused and thought about that. She shrugged and then shook her head again. Bevussa snapped her beak.
“Alright. Well. In that case, if you won’t go up, and can’t tell us who you are…take off your mask, please.”
The skeleton froze. So did Insill, who peeked at her masked face. Bevussa walked forwards.
“Or tell me who you are. I’ve had enough surprises from adventurers in this dungeon.”
Toren backed up. And now she had a hand on the hilt of her sword. He was in her head, laughing at the situation and telling her to stab the Garuda. But Toren didn’t want to. And yet—she couldn’t take her mask off. She couldn’t go out of the dungeon. And she wasn’t sure she knew how to write.
All these things made her back away. But now Bevussa had a look of deep suspicion in her eyes. She advanced, only to be slowed by Insill and Anith.
“Miss Bevussa! Wait! She’s saved our team dozens of times!”
Dasha coughed.
“I wouldn’t say dozens…”
“Hey! That’s our Captain, normalblood. Gold-rank. Claws off!”
Issa snapped at Insill. He hesitated, but Anith backed him up, firmly barring Bevussa’s way.
“Captain Bevussa, adventurers are entitled to their anonymity…”
“She can have that. But there’s the situation with the Minotaur—with Calruz, remember? I just want proof she’s not some half-insane person as mad as he is! Or…or a Raskghar or something!”
Bevussa protested. Everyone looked at Toren and her thin frame. The Garuda sighed.
“Okay, not a Raskghar. But you know what I mean.”
She pointed at Toren.
“What reason does she have to be down here? Why not go above? It’s too suspicious. There’s insanity in challenging a dungeon alone, and then there’s this. Why are you down here, Miss? Why can’t you speak? Who are you?”
Toren had no answer. Well, she had tons of answers, but not ones she could give. And not ones that would deescalate the situation. She tried tracing a smile on her mask. Bevussa glared.
“Are you mocking me?”
“Captain Slenderscale, I’m sure she…”
Anith broke off. Toren was nodding her head happily. It was sort of fun.
Insill choked. Dasha guffawed. Bevussa snapped.
“Alright, that’s it. Mask comes off. Miss, take it off or—”
She paused as Toren drew her sword. Bevussa stepped back.
“Lower it.”
Toren shook her head and lifted her sword. Bevussa’s eyes narrowed. She reached for the hilt of her shortsword.
“Captain Slenderscale!”
Anith protested, but the other Wings of Pallass moved forwards, suddenly tense. Bevussa looked around. She exhaled, annoyed and frustrated. She did not want to do this, but Keldrass wasn’t here being reasonable and she was out of patience. She tried one last time.
“If you won’t so much as answer one of my questions, I have no choice but to—”
She stopped. The masked warrior was looking around, cocking her head. Bevussa scowled.
“Hey! Are you listening to me? I said…”
Then she stopped. Because the mysterious adventurer had held up a finger to her mask where her mouth should be. She was looking about, and looking wary. She turned, blade in hand. And then suddenly, Bevussa felt a tingle of danger too. Not from [Dangersense] or any Skill, but just long-honed instincts. She cleared her throat.
“Something’s…”
She looked around. And then she saw the masked warrior pause. Slowly, ever so slowly, prodded by the sense that there were more undead really close nearby, Toren looked up. And so did Bevussa. She shouted.
“Up—”
The Ceiling Crawler leapt. But Toren was faster. She kicked Bevussa backwards and the Ceiling Crawler landed on her. The undead instantly tried to squirm off Toren—she wasn’t a living thing—but Toren furiously stabbed at it and the undead, sensing the threat, began to fight back. Bevussa flew backwards and Dasha shouted in horror.
“Dead gods! Undead crawling on the ceiling!”
“Wings of Pallass! At them!”
Issa shouted, panicked, and the team began to take wing. Bevussa unsheathed her shortsword.
“No! Stay on the ground! They’ll hit you in midair! They’re jumping!”
“Help Miss Warrior!”
Insill shouted desperately. He swung his daggers, stabbing at the skeletal Ceiling Crawler’s back, but it was all bone! Bevussa hacked with her shortsword. The enchanted blade struck pieces of ivory away as Toren stabbed at the thing from below. It was biting her, sinking its claws and teeth into her cloth ‘body’. Anith, Insill, and Bevussa were all trying to get it off her, crying in horror, but Toren mostly just felt tickled.
At last, the three adventurers tore the Ceiling Crawler off Toren and it flipped, trying to snare Insill. He dodged out of the way and it crawled backwards, unnaturally fast. It was bigger than even Larr, and there were three more of them, leaping from wall to ceiling, trying to pin down and savage the adventurers!
“Gah! What are these things! Pekona! Help!”
Dasha screamed as one leapt at her. Pekona leapt forwards and slashed.
“[Flash Cut]!”
Her blade went through the thing’s arm and the bones clattered to the floor. The Ceiling Crawler recoiled and Dasha smashed it on the bony, gnashing face, shouting. The Wings of Pallass were fighting back-to-back, not at home on the ground.
