Darryl

This wasn’t what I was expecting.

To be fair, I didn’t know what I was expecting of a ghoul den. Skulls and gnawed bones, and lots of trash. Actually, all those things were present here, there just wasn’t a lot of it. Less than expected.

I wasn’t expecting the torches, bonfires, incense and altar, though. If the name Emberus hadn’t given it away, the setup might’ve clued me in that these guys worshipped a fire god. The ghouls were making sure that the bonfires kept burning by continuously bringing in more flammable trash, and a few dead ghouls lay ready to be fed to the flames.

There were five bonfires, all set around a massive pillar that looked like it was the main support beam of this whole building. Rust dug a hole in the side, showing that the pillar was hollow from the inside. The altar had been erected inside this hollow, the dozens of candles shedding ominous shadows over the many large humanoid and inhuman skulls adorned on it.

The oddest thing was that each of the five bonfires, the altar and the pillar all had their own name and health bar. The level 3 Bonfires were just a literal description of what a bonfire was, with some coy hints that they might be a little bit more. The level 5 Greater Support Beam was similarly just a description of what a support beam did, but the AI pretended it was a person as they told its ‘tragic story’ and ‘inspiring tale of resilience’. The altar was the important one, though.

Level 15 Sacrificial Altar of Emberus

The god of Fire and Ash isn’t the kind of guy to demand human sacrifices of his followers. He’s certainly not the kind of god that sneers at the practice either, though! And considering that no fuel burns quite as intensive as the soul of a pyromancer or a burning fanatic, the most savage priests of Emberus have long since figured out that human sacrifice may be optional but is the only right way to pray for power!

This altar is drenched in generations of blood given freely and violently, adorned with many skulls of worthy tributes and with even more disappointments tossed to the side! While not powerful by itself, the Altar strengthens all devotees in its radius and turns its active worshippers into even more powerful forces of nature! Every religion also has some archrivals whose champions and cultists are weakened by an opposing altar’s aura!

This altar enables you to convert to Emberus. As a Devotee of Emberus, its aura will increase your chance to inflict Burn attacks to 75% and its potency by 50%. You’ll also gain +5 Con and Int as long as you remain in the altar’s aura, and Domain Spells of Emberus cost 50% less or have only half the usual cooldown time.

Shalanter ignored the crowd of enthusiastic undead cultists running towards him as he hauled me over to a pile that I assumed was supposed to be their loot and valuables. They were scraping the bottom of the barrel, gathering anything that might sell for anything at all like meth addicts at a pawn shop. He unceremoniously dropped me on top of it and walked over to the nearest bonfire.

He spoke in strange arcane words as he picked up a dead ghoul, and the others fell into a respectful silence as Shalanter preached to them. He then walked into the bonfire, unperturbed by the flames engulfing him, and carefully put down the corpse. He walked out again and finished his prayer with a guttural ‘We Burn!’.

The bonfire flared up and kept on burning stronger than before, and the ghouls danced and yipped around it excitedly. The bonfire jumped up to level 4, but the description didn’t change. Shalanter ignored them as he walked to the next bonfire and repeated the ritual.

I remained motionless and observed the situation, knowing that this was my only option when surrounded by this many enemies and a Borough Boss. Five bonfires lit up, and Shalanter grabbed a ghoul by the head before she even knew what happened. She shrieked and begged for mercy, which the cleric ignored as he dragged her to the altar in the pillar.

The other ghouls were going crazy with excitement, all chanting Emberus without any sense of rhythm or uniformity. Shalanted placed the thrashing ghoul on the altar and then burst into flames, turning the pillar into an oven as an inferno wafted off of him and the altar. The bonfires lit up stronger than ever before, and then dimmed down to embers.

___ ___ ___ ___

Elise

God, I hate this.

I hate my new life.

It started well. I got a great box right from the getgo for some bullshit achievement.

And then I spent the first few days locked in a room after a rat bit me, diseased and trapped between some Frenchmen I accidentally pissed off and that stupid restriction that you couldn’t open boxes before you took the tutorial.

I had to be rescued from that situation, and the guys just took me in. Didn’t even seem to be about my bat, they just found it completely natural to help the underlevelled girl survive. Thomas at least expected me to pull my own weight, and spoke up when he disagreed with what I did. But it still felt like I was a fucking charity case in the beginning.

And then came the walking. I occasionally got to vent my frustrations on some enemies, but there was so much goddamned walking and I didn’t wear the proper shoes for goddamned day-long trekking. The few wounds I took fighting those trash mobs didn’t even compare to my feet at the end of the day, and those didn’t stop hurting with a Heal spell.

Now that I fixed the walking issue, it became clear that enemies hurting like hell was going to become a bigger issue. Those goddamned ghouls tore out whole mouthfuls of my flesh, and I felt it unfiltered! Even my bat rage’s painkilling effect seemed to have lessened since I chose this race.

But that wasn’t enough. No~, when something went bad, it always had to get worse.

My chest heaved from exhaustion and I felt terrible. I was sticky all over, my left leg still covered by my own blood and the rest of me in ghoul guts and harpy gunk. Which of course felt and smelled worse and trashier than real blood.

My surface clothes already looked like an abstract art piece this morning, but the bite on my leg and a long scratch around the hip meant I really had to toss my jeans now. And wear that billowing disaster, goddamned. But with the way my own blood made my jeans stick and chafe against my leg, I couldn’t put it off anymore.

Fucking depraved degenerate dungeon and pervy cocksucking audience! Trying to turn me into some exhibitionist for them to lust after!

And if that wasn’t enough, the dungeon just kept pushing me! Kept pushing us all. Despite my sticky leg, despite my blood loss, despite me being tired, worn out, fed up and wounded, the dungeon decided that the horde of harpies I just finished off hadn’t been enough.

Fuck it. Don’t show weakness, don’t show them how tired you are. Pull through and then bitch about it until we take a long and well-deserved rest.

I raised my bat again and checked my status. Still two minutes before my potions recharged, but I had about 90% of my health left and rising. My mana reserves looked decent. No need to tap into it fighting the harpies, so I wasn’t flat-out. After recharging one point just a minute ago, I still had four of my nine mana points. Enough for two Sparkle Blades.

It would have to do. This guy looked tougher than the average Neighbourhood Boss and the description was fucking ominous, but it would have to do.

I stared down the wolf that was fucking running in the air, its fangs unnaturally long and sharp and its fur looking so thick and sharp that it would probably act like armour. He was barrelling straight for me, already salivating.

Cras – Fallen Death’s Gate Worg Feral Warlock

Level 21 Neighbourhood Boss!

This is an Elite

Earth culture had a decently accurate idea of what worgs are. Big, nasty and evil wolves with black fur and nigh-sentient intelligence to complement their definitely better than human cunning. They just forgot two details: Worgs can walk on air, and they are almost all direct creations of a wolf god! This worg in particular is a descendant of Cerberus, one of the biggest and strongest sons of a literal bitch around!

But don’t worry facing a literal celestial, puny crawler! This worg fell from grace, being reduced from a 5th floor City Boss to a pathetic 1st floor Borough Boss! Cras wasn’t satisfied with that, so he’s been performing foul rituals and besieging mad powers from the forbidden feral realms to gain more power! And an unexpected benefactor answered! Now a warlock of the adorable Orthrus, feral god of belly rubs and childlike excitement, his powers have marginally grown! But his patron has attracted the attention of a greater power, and slaying this bastard will piss off someone a lot bigger and angrier who kind of relies on being a dog owner to live vicariously through! Without Cras, things might get a bit… heated.

Fucking useless warning. Giving us a heads-up that taking down this boss was going to result in yet another shoe dropping. But it wasn’t as if we could outrun it. The worg was flying much, much faster than me.

I had to keep it busy. Just dodge and block while relying on Thomas and Miho to damage it, and maybe Ben would get a shot in. Maybe I should grab Alexa and stuff her in my pocket for that regeneration buff? But without Darryl here, I definitely had to be the one taking this guy on directly.

Fuck!

I readied my bat and prepared for the world to freeze at any moment now. Strange, it normally would’ve already happened by now. Instead the worg continued to barrel towards me.

A sharp whistle rang through the air, and the worg stopped dead in its tracks. Smoke suddenly billowed out from multiple holes of the building, quickly working its way up until the last and biggest plume came out of the top of the tower.

It scoffed and looked at the source of the sound before looking back to me. It huffed and bared its fangs at me in a way that made it clear it was saying “I’ll get you later, snack.” before turning away from me and running back to the tower.

___ ___ ___ ___

Azriel

It was truly a nest of villains I found, when I entered this tower. Surely it was the will of the Heavens themselves that I came here to cleanse this place.

The harpies had been a minor evil. Atrocities that were not meant to be born, and sinned by remaining alive, but their evil was scarce otherwise. Not quite worth my time.

The ghouls were a different matter. Not only were they abominations of a foul curse, they even worshipped some kind of evil fire demon that had corrupted them with its evil touch! I struck them down swiftly with my sacred blade, while my dimwit companion Birdguy kept watch. He meant well and was eager to serve, his oath ensured as much, but he was unfortunately not that capable.

Oh well. I had to take the boons that the Heavens granted me, and use them wisely. They had seen fit to bestow me stronger allies, but the folly of mortal free will complicated this gift some.

No matter, I would make sure to bring them back to their fateful path soon enough.

The current situation lent itself well for that. It seemed like multiple foul factions were gathering here to scheme their evil deeds together, each and all as dangerous and vile as the Apostle of Ruin had been!

I just had to strike them down, and it would become clear to all that I was the most capable and righteous man around, a clear leader for others to follow. Not that… kid.

My ears burned red as anger and indignation coiled in my guts as I remembered how that rogue stepped in and stole my glory, slaying Araman with his treacherous ways as the apostle was focused on me!

The child was probably evil, a cunning mastermind hiding behind an innocent mask set to lead astray my future companions and followers. He probably wasn’t even a child, only using that guise to stay my hand. His devil’s tongue managed to deceive them to follow him instead of me! If only I had any proof of his villainy, I would’ve struck him down on the spot!

I calmed myself down and focused my attention on the current evil I had to smite.

There were four of them here. The Harpy Queen had come down from her nest on the top of the tower to this large open floor, where two others had already been waiting for her. The first a second-generation Demoar Tannaruk, just some big brute whose sinful blood already ran thin. The second a goblin hunter, the little thing decorated with skulls and trophies to distinguish him as strongest of their pitiful tribe. And a fourth one joined them since, the worg summoned by the smoke.

I kept waiting as I watched them from the shadows. They were worthy foes, but it was clear that none of them were the leader. The harpy would’ve had them come to the top, the goblin’s posturing made it clear that the pathetic thing was barely strong enough to be here, the worg had been hailed rather than hailing, and the tannaruk was too stupid.

But I heard something crawl up from the still-burning chimney that lay at the heart of this tower. It was big, it was strong and it was fashionably late.

Should I slay these other four before it could show up?

Sometimes there was wisdom in prudent decisions, but I would be gambling that I would get the knowledge I sought by other means. No, for the sake of my next mission, it was imperative that I waited and listened in on this gathering before bringing justice to these villains.

I glanced outside. I didn’t know where my soon to be allies were, but I knew they were coming. And something told me that they would be coming swiftly.