Quest Cleared - The Rockbound Quarry Dungeon

  +2250 XP

  -750 Karma

  Additional rewards will be granted upon opening your status window.

  What's with the karma hit?

  Whatever, I was still at a massive surplus. Next time Justice dropped in, I'd be sure to ask her about that along with a million other things. Sure, I had asked her for more time to get established when we last met. But so much had transpired over the past 15 days and nights, I was desperate for another meeting.

  Tail wagging, jaw unhinged, horrific black tongue rolled out across the ground, Fayador eagerly stared up at me like he was awaiting further instructions. Not having it in my heart to strike the creature down, I caved.

  "We need to set some ground rules. But before that, I need to know your capabilities and limitations," I said with a heavy sigh, like deep down I knew I was making a horrible mistake.

  The dog's ears perked up and its tongue snapped back into its mouth. "You'll find I'm incredibly versatile. I can shadow you literally, or take on independent tasks. I don't require food or water. Exposure to sunlight is my only restraint."

  "I'll need you to prove yourself."

  "Yes, Master of Darkness," Fayador said, bowing his head.

  "Uh, no. Don't call me that. I go by Cyprus. Not David Cyprus. Just Cyprus, got it?"

  "Yes, master Cyprus." The dog nodded.

  "First, you must not kill any humans nor reveal your presence. If anyone discovers your existence, then sayonara, I'm not covering for you. I'm building a reputation as a noble adventurer, and if you ever threaten that image then you'll be put down."

  "Yes, master."

  "Second, you must pass a test to prove your worthiness. Fail, and you'll perish."

  "Yes, master. I'm ready."

  ***

  Eventually, the dungeon automatically teleported me outside on top of a rocky ledge overlooking the quarry's pit. The dungeon's tiny entrance was gone, like it had been filled in by rocks, leaving no sign of it having ever existed in the first place.

  A refreshing breeze carried a light rain across the forests and plains. The overcast skies provided plenty of shadows, allowing Fayador to poke his head up through the ground and look around.

  "Fresh air!" he bellowed, his demonic voice echoing across the valley.

  I fired an absolute 'shut the fuck up' glance straight at the dog and he simpered down, leaving only his snout poking out of my shadow as I dashed into the woods, heading north.

  "Remember, what I said?"

  "Yes."

  "Then get to it."

  Fayador fully emerged from my shadow, leaping out into the world and landing on the forest floor. He scanned the area with an excited tail wag. I pointed south and the dog nodded once more.

  "Until we meet again," he said, then vanished into a tree's elongated shadow.

  I had given him instructions on how to find my shack on the hill south of Waystone, where he'd dig a hole underneath the structure and wait until I deemed his test of patience complete.

  "Simple. After my time in the void, a 1000 year wait in the dirt will be like a vacation," he had said back in the dungeon.

  Whether the Void Hound stuck to my instruction or not—only time would tell. Releasing a self-proclaimed ally of evil upon the realm wasn't great optics. But instinct urged me to take a chance. Fayador had already revealed more to me than Justice and Chaos combined.

  No use stressing about it now.

  Leaving Cujo in the rear-view, I hurried to Ingcaster.

  ***

  The Gilded Boar Adventurer's Guild went from buzzing to dead silent when I swung open the doors and waltzed in. An early evening breeze carried the scent of death and orc body odor in behind me. My face was still covered in the dried blood, and my skin looked like a pincushion—only halfway healed from Dazmire's ice attacks.

  I flipped Karma's Gaze off, too tired for the barrage of statuses and skipped the line, straight to the counter. Kora, the freckle-faced attendant gasped and doubled back into the shelves behind her.

  "C-Cyprus?"

  "Get Eamon."

  She dropped the contracts in her hands and scurried off down the hall. A hand grabbed my shoulder from behind. I spun around, unable to feign the displeasure when I saw Skurt standing there. He was the level 3 punk ass leader of Deadly Talon, an adventuring group I knew nothing about. I only remembered him because of a run-in we had on the Ingcaster Beltway, where I ratted him out to the royal guards.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  "What makes you think you can cut in front of the whole lot of us?" Skurt said, raising his voice along with his hands.

  He glanced over his shoulder, likely expecting others in the line to back him up, but they took one look at me and passed.

  I stared hard into the boy's eyes, and he realized the dried brown crust covering my hands and face wasn't mud. Three seconds later, he backed off into line, muttering a curse under his breath.

  Smart.

  It had been over 24 hours since I last slept. I was cranky, hungry, and frankly downright unstable. Unknowingly, Skurt had skirted the thin line between life and death. Another word, or action would've resulted in tragedy for both of us.

  I need to sleep.

  I took a seat in a single person face-to-face booth on the first floor across from the questing counter. A few groups sitting nearby dragged their tables and chairs away, distancing themselves from my scent. I flagged a hesitant waiter down, and requested a beer.

  Unfortunately, Eamon arrived before the beverage. He hustled down the hall and out from behind the counter. Worried lines etched across his brow as he saw the state I was in.

  "Where's Xodoven?"

  "Not sure. He's probably still napping up on my hill or dead. By the way, I'm not impressed with his body guard skills. I went through the ringer last night and he was totally useless. If you paid him for that performance, I suggest you ask for a refund."

  Eamon ran a hand through his gray, slicked back hair as he scanned me from head to toe.

  "And the dungeon key? We received the letter from Grimspark stating you'd be taking a few days to recover."

  I shrugged. "No idea. Xodoven was in possession of it the last time I checked. But we got ambushed by Soul Viper and Black Diamond at the same time."

  Eamon balled his hands into fists, sitting on the edge of his seat. "Tell me exactly what happened."

  "An assassin duo from Soul Viper poisoned me and Xodoven with paralytic needles. They kidnapped me as Black Diamond raided the hilltop south of Waystone where my home resides. A few hours later I escaped, and returned to the hilltop. Xodoven was there, completely paralyzed and the dungeon key was gone, along with my healer. I tried waking him, but he really just sucks."

  A waiter dropped off my beer and I took a long contemplative sip, mulling over my next words while I ratcheted up the old man's anxiety. His fingernails bit into table top's wood, splintering it as he held his breath.

  Refreshed from slamming half a cold beer, I set the mug down and continued. "So, I went after the dungeon key and my apprentice. On my way to Anderhorn Spire I eliminated a few bandit groups--some of which were responsible for raiding Waystone."

  Eamon slapped the table. "What do you mean Anderhorn Spire? You wouldn't be here talking to me if you went there."

  I laughed and took another sip of beer, grinding Eamon's patience to dust.

  "They didn't leave me much choice."

  "I'm in no mood for jests," Eamon hissed. "If Grimspark is dead, and the dungeon key has fallen into Black Diamond's hands, then the guild must move at once."

  I cleared my throat, and wagged a finger. "They don't have it."

  "How can you be certain?"

  "Because I went to Anderhorn Spire and asked around. A few mercenaries, some captains, and Barret himself. None of them took credit for taking my apprentice or the dungeon key. And while some conversations were shorter than others, they all said the same thing," I said loudly for the eavesdroppers.

  Eamon's eye twitched, and his fist became a blur. The table exploded as I saved my beer.

  "My quarters, now!" he barked.

  The packed guild hall went silent. Everyone looked our way as I followed Eamon who stormed behind the counter, quickly leading me down a hallway to his office.

  His quarters consisted of a few cheap wooden chairs, and a massive desk covered in papers and rolled-up scrolls. A panoramic window sat behind his desk, hidden by dusty blinds.

  "I can revoke your membership for lying."

  I whipped out the contract Westcott had signed with Black Diamond, acquiring their services for my capture, and handed it over. The old man snatched it out of my hands. As he read it over, I lined up five stacks of 10 gold coins on his desk.

  Eamon paced behind his desk, expression shifting through a range of emotions like he had short-circuited.

  "How did you get this?"

  I rapped my knuckles on his desk. "Hello? Are you even listening? Cause I'm getting tired of repeating myself. I entered Anderhorn Spire, killed some mercenaries, a few captains, and took Barret's head off his shoulders. Why do you think I look like this?"

  The Gilded Boar's vice-captain finally took a seat and dropped his head in his hands.

  "Go on, revoke my membership for lying. You'll just be making more paperwork for yourself when I'm inevitably re-instated. News here travels quick enough, and there was no shortage of witnesses and escapees from the Cellar."

  "It can't be. I couldn't take that monster on my best day."

  Really? You're two levels higher than he was.

  He glanced up from the paper, eyes hardened like he was staring straight through me.

  Shit, he still doesn't believe it?

  "Black Diamond made a lot of mistakes. I also learned incompetence stems from the top," I said, returning his harsh gaze. "If Burtrip is wise, he'll staunch his organizations bleeding, eat the loss and leave me alone."

  "Barret was like his father. There are no circumstances in which he doesn't retaliate. And the guild will have no part in your protection."

  I chuckled. "Like the guild has done such a good job of protecting me up to this point. The Drayvoss contract is the only reason Soul Viper's after me. Then you blasted your newsletter across the nation, telling everyone that not only did I have the rights to a chaos shard, but how I was a complete novice. You practically forced me under your thumb with Xodoven."

  "Get out. I'm finished with you."

  "We're in this together, Eamon. After I chopped Barret's head off, I had his assistant send Burtrip a nice letter. Maybe he'll realize what I wrote about you sanctioning the raid is a lie."

  Eamon shot up from the desk, fists clenched, wavering on the brink of turning his office into a battleground.

  "Dumb bastard, you have no idea what you've done."

  I nodded along, unfazed, already prepared for the fallout. I had rehearsed the conversation a hundred times in my head on my jog back to Ingcaster, and truthfully it was going better than I had expected.

  "You're right, I acted on pure gut instinct. I always do. I don't know what you have against Xodoven, but I'm getting the impression you would've been OK with both of us dying out there. Not a bad tradeoff, our lives and the dungeon key for the rights of the chaos shard."

  Judging from his silence, I wasn't far from the truth.

  "You really were trained by the legendary Hollow Demon," Eamon said, voice trailing off. "I make my decisions based on what's best for the guild. Yesterday, sending you two after the quarry dungeon key would've benefited the guild regardless of the outcome. It was nothing personal."

  I smiled, enjoying Eamon taking on his share of the pressure I'd grown accustomed to carrying all on my lonesome. "What about today?"

  "Today, it seems it's in the guild's best interest to keep you close." Eamon picked up one of the gold coins and rolled it over his fingers. "There are nobles with a vested interest in Black Diamond. They also have the incoming king's ear. I meticulously set up all the pieces to make a move after the inauguration. Then you flipped the board."

  Watching Eamon closely, I saw the frustration from his squandered plans morph into something else entirely—the recognition of a new opportunity. The old man took a deep breath.

  "Come back in the morning. We have much to discuss, and I'll have your chaos shard ready."

  "See you then."

  As I reached for the door, Eamon added, "You might like to know, your apprentice is upstairs."

  "What?"

  Behind the Veil / State of the Story #2