Dungeon Entrance

At the bottom of the stairs a unique sight greeted them. Seven doors awaited them each with its own awe or fear inspiring mural above it. Ferros stilled and stared at the murals positioned above the seven doors. Then ever so slowly approached the 7th door, reaching out to touch the image of a fair skinned woman with shoulder length pink streaked blonde hair who was depicted on it. Before he could come within arm's reach a mighty grip took hold of his shoulder and held him back. The sudden grip snapped him out of his trance, and startled he fell to the ground.

“Careful boy, many have fallen for the looks and temptations of Vanity don’t become the latest in that line.” Owen said with a grave tone.

Ferros swallowed hard then thanked the older inquisitor for saving him.

“Think nothing of it, besides Roslyn would probably kill me if I let something happen to her newest apprentice. Just know, from here on out be extra vigilant of your surroundings and follow any order we give you to the letter.”

Ferros nodded and walked with Owen back over towards Roslyn.

“Well, I hope you enjoyed your little detour, I had originally planned to test your knowledge of the Nether Gods but that can wait. It looks like we may be getting lucky. I don't think the dungeon has expanded as much as we originally thought.”

“Not to question the possibly senile, but how can you be sure Roslyn? It's a dungeon they don't advertise how big they are to the world.” Owen grumbled.

Roslyn’s grip tightened on her cane to the point her knuckles turned white, and the ancient wood started to crack, but she calmed and released her grip then responded to Owen. “Those of us who aren’t apparently blind and stupid can see that only one doorway is currently active. Plus, since that door happens to be Havoc’s who is the goddess of challenge, conquest, destruction, disaster and war it doesn't take much thought to realize that without anyone coming in here before us that it hasn’t gotten a chance to expand much. So, I don’t really expect it to have more than two floors, three at the most.”

Happy at making a fool out of Owen, which isn’t hard to do, Roslyn returned her gaze to Havoc’s door and the challenges that lay before them.

Once through the door a forest of towering trees lay before them. A beautiful and idyllic scene, a cool breeze flowed past them as bunnies foraged in the shade. Could have sworn this place was supposed to be a dungeon.

It was confusing, no danger in sight and only peaceful critters basking in the sun and shade. Being the more experienced members of this party Owen and Roslyn were immediately on guard, hands moving to their weapons, while Ferros, new to dungeons as he was, scanned the surroundings with wonder in his eyes. Never had he seen such a peaceful place, he simply wanted to take in the majesty for a while.

As he stood there enjoying the view he was quickly yanked down by Owen as a jagged stone the size of his fist flew by. At the same time with a flick of her wrist Roslyn sent a crimson shard flying into the nearest tree, where she was rewarded with a meaty thunk and a gurgled scream. Seconds later a goblin fell from the branches thrashing around and choking on the blood filling its throat.

“See that is why we told you to be aware of your surroundings. Ah well you live, and you learn, not so in the goblins case. This does however confirm what monster choice the core made.”

Even Roslyn chuckled at Owens' poor attempt at a joke. Yet she couldn’t deny the truth in his words. Only the living can learn from their mistakes, most of the time.

But now is not the time for jokes Roslyn cracked her neck and approached the slowly dying goblin. “Alright boys time to do what inquisitors do best and kill anyone stupid enough to get in our way!

“Yes Ma'am!” Came the reply from Ferros while Owen just shrugged and readied himself.

Those poor goblins waiting in ambush didn’t stand a chance. A short few seconds after their best scout got sniped out of the tree, gurgling cries signaled the fall of all the other scouts in the surrounding trees. All fell to the ground with crimson shards embedded in their bodies.

This was not a battle or even a fight, but a one sided massacre. With veteran inquisitors Roslyn and Owen leading the charge the goblin ambushers stood little chance of escaping. Owen literally punched holes through their chests, the blood and viscera burning away as he retracted his fist. Ferros tried to keep up with his seniors, but his lack of experience showed. In the time it took him to kill the one goblin in front of him Roslyn and Owen had mopped up the rest.

“Nothing quite like some goblins to give you a nice warm up, right?” Owen asked merrily.

Roslyn rolled her eyes while Ferros dry heaved off to the side. Roslyn would need to work on building his stamina because as it was, he would get himself killed sooner rather than later, and if there was one thing, she prided herself on more than her unwavering faith in Lyrox it was training the best of the best of the next generation.

As they continued onward in the dungeon they eventually came across the fort. Roslyn signaled for them to stop as when they approached several hunters had knocked their bows and taken aim, ready to let fly if the intruders walked any closer. Owen, not wanting to wait, attempted to move closer but Roslyn was feeling generous today, so she stopped him instead.

“Why are you of all people stopping me Rosl…” A sharp glare made Owen stop his sentence before he continued. “I mean why did you stop me, Martyr? Those are just goblins, nothing we can’t handle.”

All these years working together, and she still had to cover for his poor observational skill. Rather than explain to Owen what was wrong Roslyn simply pointed up the fort's wall toward the hiding goblins. She could only frown deeper in agitation as Owen stood there with that same dopey look on his face until at last he realized what was going on.

“Excuse me Martyr but I don’t understand. Why exactly did you stop the Confessor from attacking? Those are just goblins, correct?”

Owen could not have been happier that Ferros spoke up at that moment. After all he made a rookie mistake, of course a blessed dungeon like this one would have more than one type of goblin. Now he just needed to play it off and act like he didn’t almost blindly charge into a fort of high goblins. But it seemed that was not the case.

“I didn’t stop the Confessor because of the high goblins aiming at us but because of the doors to the fort themselves. Look closely, tell me what you see.” Roslyn replied.

Not seeing a reason to doubt the Martyr’s word both Ferros and Owen turned to get a better look at the fort’s doors and found that inscribed on the door were five distinct images. A massive wolf’s head with trees, a gangly looking goblin holding a boar's head, and three female high goblins. One with a manic grin splitting her face twirling daggers, another held a crossbow in hand and slung a longbow across her back, and the third sat atop a massive spider while holding a glass vial.

“So, then Martyr what do these images mean?” Ferros asked, but the voice that replied was not the Martyr but a deep rumble from above them.

“It means that if you wish to face me you must first defeat three of them. Only the worthy may set foot within my fort.”