Path of Dragons 5 - Chapter 76 - The Mine (Patreon)

Shadows danced against the walls, caused by the flaming torch in Gwenivere’s hand.  Thankfully, it emitted no smoke, instead giving off a scattering of ethereal motes that dissipated after only a few moments.  She sighed, glancing around.  The structure of the mine was precisely what she’d expected, which meant that it was just a series of tunnels supported by a framework of wooden beams.  However, as mundane as it seemed at first glanced, she couldn’t deny the presence of the thick ethera hanging in the air. 

It was even denser than what she’d found in the city far above, which in turn, was far thicker than what she’d grown accustomed to.  But as pleasant as being surrounded by much ethera could feel, it was not comforting.

“You alright?” asked Colt, sitting next to her, his sheathed sword across his lap.  He took a bite of his travel rations. 

Gwenivere shook her head.  “This doesn’t put you on edge?” she asked.  “I feel like my hair should be standing on end.  I’ve had goosebumps since we first set foot into this mine.”

He nodded.  “It’s a bit unnervin’, I’ll definitely admit that.  But this ain’t my first rodeo.  I won’t get too worked up ‘til we find somethin’ to work me up, if you know what I mean.”

“I guess,” she said with a shake of her head, her grip tightening on the haft of her axe.  Her armor clinked a little as she shifted, and though she valued stealth, she knew that the protection it provided was far more important.  In addition to her chainmail shirt, which fit her like a glove, she had been provided with a pair of armored leather pants.  Steel greaves protected her shins, and her hands were clad in a pair of armored gauntlets.  In short, she felt as protected as possible, though they had yet to encounter any enemies.

That wasn’t so surprising, though.  The people of Ironshore had been working the mines for a few years, and they’d delved deep into the mountains.  She and Colt had nearly reached the edge of their explored territory – apparently, the area was riddled with underground tunnels and caverns, some of which were large enough to have accommodated whole cities – so she had good reason to expect the situation to grow much more dangerous.

“How did you lose the hand?” she asked, nodding to the injury.  It had actually taken her a while to even realize that his hand was missing, as he’d replaced it with a fixed, metal prosthetic. 

He hefted his arm, turning it this way and that.  The prosthetic was covered by a black glove, so there was no metal visible.  It didn’t move, though, making its nature clear. 

“Trusted the wrong people,” he said. 

“Betrayal?”

He shook his head.  “Nah.  Incompetence, mostly.  They weren’t bad folks, just a bit stupid.  Too naïve for a world like this,” he explained.  “They were still stuck in the old way of thinkin’, where people were equal, more or less.  You get enough together, and you could maybe make a difference.  That don’t work when your enemy is twice as strong as you.”

“They died?”

Colt nodded.  “Brutally.”  He shook his head. “Bad guys got what was comin’ to ‘em, though.  Most of ‘em are dead now.”

“You?”

He gave a harsh laugh.  “Nah, girl.  I ain’t got that kinda power.  It was the Druid.  He swept in there and did what a thousand rebels couldn’t.  That’s the kinda world we live in, now.  Be grateful you ain’t seen that kinda thing.”

“You’re talking about Elijah?” she asked, thinking back to the sickly man she’d sat next to on the plane.  Back then, he’d seemed on the edge of death.  But then, everything had happened, and somehow, he’d come out of it as one of the strongest people in the world.  It didn’t make much sense to Gwenivere, but then again, she and the other survivors had been so isolated that they hadn’t been exposed to much beyond the simple struggle to survive. 

“He’s not as harmless as he seems.  That boy’s got the devil in him,” Colt said.  “He wants to do the right thing.  He tries.  But there’s more to –”

He stopped abruptly mid-sentence, and when Gwenivere made to speak, he raised his prosthetic hand.  She understood the gesture and went silent.  A second later, the slightest of sounds echoed through the tunnel.  It was barely louder than a pin drop, but in the silence, it was obvious. 

Colt pushed himself to his feet, his movements sure and silent as he drew his sword.  She followed his lead, hefting her axe in both hands.  As she did so, she embraced Sentinel’s Senses:

Sentinel’s Senses

Temporarily increase the efficacy of the Sentinel’s sensory capabilities.  Also allows them to see through most forms of stealth.  Duration based on Ethera.  Current: 39.3 Seconds.  Efficacy based on comparative Dexterity. 

It was the second ability she’d gotten after choosing her Sentinel class – the first being Eyes of the Sentinel – and it had saved her life more times than she could count.  More, it had saved the lives of her friends as well, allowing her to recognize threats well before they’d arrived.  Because in the cave system where she and the other crash survivors had taken refuge, many of the dangerous creatures made copious use of stealth.  It was not a stretch to say that without Sentinel’s Senses, none of them would have survived more than a few weeks.

The moment the ability took hold, a wave of sensory input washed over her.  Suddenly, the darkness was no more oppressive than a cloudy afternoon, and she saw the tunnel in more detail than ever before.  In addition, the combination of her improved hearing, sense of smell, and touch gave her something she likened to a natural sonar that gave her an idea of what lurked in the area. 

She blinked.

Then, she reached out, tapping Colt on the shoulder.  He whipped around, and she held up two fingers before pointing down the tunnel.  After that, she held her hand about four feet off the ground, indicating their size.  Over the next couple of seconds, she tried to mime the general orientation of the creatures she sensed.  They were quadrupedal, covered in hard exoskeletons, and were equipped with large fangs.

By the time she’d finished with her warning, her ability wore off, and she lost the sense of the creatures. 

But that warning was enough to give them the upper hand. 

Colt stepped forward, his feet silent as he held his sword in his lone hand.  The arm with the prosthetic, he held before him like a shield, and as they turned the corner, that was exactly how he used it. 

The nightmare monster – which looked like a cross between a wolf and an insect – bounded forward, latching onto Colt’s metallic hand and biting down with bone-crushing force.  The man responded with a vicious overhand attack that cut deep into the beast’s snout. 

It retreated with a chittering sound, bounding backwards to put some distance between itself and the man who’d cut it.  That was when Gwenivere used Eyes of the Sentinel:

Name: Lycosect

Level: 48

Archetype: Beast (Tamed)

Class: N/A

Highest Attribute: Dexterity

“Level forty-eight,” she said, stepping up to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Colt.  She used her ability on the second creature, which lurked a little behind the first.  It was two levels higher, but otherwise, it was identical. 

She knew that Colt was level sixty-one, which wasn’t powerful enough to put him in the top one-hundred, but it got him pretty close.  By comparison, her own level seemed paltry.  She’d been the strongest person among the refugees, but it seemed that being level fifty wasn’t enough to set her apart in Ironshore.  And she knew from experience that facing two beasts at the same time without a full group to combat them was a dangerous proposition. 

Not insurmountable, but no easy battle, either.

Colt slashed his sword through the air, and a second later, it looked like one of the lycosects had been put through a woodchipper.  Pieces of black-and-purple chitin erupted from its body, and dark blood misted into the air.  The thing let out a chittering screech that sounded almost like a whimper. 

Seeing that, the other monster bolted.

After seeing the creature’s details with Eyes of the Sentinel, Gwenivere knew that she couldn’t let it escape.  She wasn’t certain what had tamed the beast, but she had no intentions of letting it return to its master.  So, she used Halt.

Halt

Prevent an enemy from acting.  Duration based on relative Strength.  Current duration (minimum): 1.2 seconds.  Breaks automatically when the enemy takes damage.

The creature froze, its momentum completely gone.  Because she knew that the beast focused on Dexterity, she expected Halt to last more than the minimum duration.  But from experience, she knew it wouldn’t hold for more than three seconds, even if she outclassed the beast completely.  Which she did not.  So, she dashed forward, using Charge to increase her movement speed.  And in only a moment, she was on top of the thing.

She swung her axe in a two-handed attack, augmented by Impale and Disabling Strike.  The first would cause it to bleed uncontrollably, and the second would lower its Strength and Dexterity by a significant amount.  The axe bit into the monster’s back, digging deep into its hardened exterior until the blade hit something soft.  Yet, the natural armor did its job, protecting the creature from the vicious strike.

But Gwenivere had expected that.  She knew that her class wasn’t built to inflict deadly wounds.  Instead, the Sentinel was all about control and confinement.  In a more civilized situation, she could easily imagine that it would have been taken by men and women who wanted to guard, protect, and police a settlement. 

The effect of Disabling Strike was immediately apparent as the creature slumped to the ground.  It leaped at her, but it felt like the thing was moving in slow motion.  Gwenivere easily fended it off, though it did manage to swipe its sharp claws across her midsection.  Thankfully, her chainmail armor protected her from permanent damage, and she responded with another attack that she hoped would help end the battle.

Sunder Defenses

Decrease an enemy’s Constitution by twenty points.  Resistance based on relative Strength.  Each subsequent use decreases Constitution by an additional five points.  Maximum: 40.

Cracks spread across the lycosect’s chitinous armor as Sunder Defenses took hold.  Gwenivere used it again.  Three more times, and the carapace looked as if it was on the verge of crumbling.  Only then did she use her most potent attack:

Lethal Force

A powerful attack that does additional damage based on the number of negative status effects.  Modifier based on Strength attribute.  Current: 41% per negative status effect.

Gwenivere had more debuffs she could use – decreasing Ethera and Regeneration, respectively, as well as another that could hinder the enemy’s movement speed – but she felt that Disabling Strike and four iterations of Sunder Defenses was enough.  Her axe hit the thing only a few inches from where she’d landed her first attack, and the blade blew through the weakened chitin, easily cutting through the more vulnerable internal organs, and nearly hacking the beast in half.

It didn’t immediately die, but it was definitely out of the fight.  So, Gwenivere turned her attention to the other, only to see that Colt had already cut it into a hundred pieces.  It was entirely unrecognizable. 

“This is bad,” she said, her heart beating wildly.  She’d grown accustomed to battle, but there was still a part of her that panicked every time she got into a fight.  It was easy enough to ignore, but it was also a grim reminder that she’d never set out to be a warrior.  “Really bad.  Those things were domesticated.”

“Like cattle?” Colt asked, narrowing his eyes.

“More like hunting dogs, I think.”

She didn’t need to explain the implications of that.  They’d come into the mines to search for missing workers, and they had both expected to find a nest of dangerous monsters.  However, the fact that there were tamed beasts roaming about said that the culprits were likely sentient. 

“You think some orcs survived?” Colt wondered aloud.  “Wormed their way underground somehow?”

Gwenivere had heard stories about the orc invasion, but she had no context to offer an opinion.  So, she shrugged.  “I don’t know, but we definitely need to find out.”

She didn’t care overmuch about Ironshore or its people – aside from the dictates of basic human decency – but if the Druid came back to find the city had been invaded, his promise of helping to rescue the crash survivors would almost definitely be put on the backburner. 

Knowing that every delay decreased their chances of survival, Gwenivere couldn’t allow that to happen.

Thankfully, Colt agreed, and they both set out down the tunnel, looking for a trail.  It didn’t take them long to pass beyond the bounds of the mapped area, and still, they continued to descend until, at last, they found an abandoned camp.

Gwenivere kicked a disused fire pit.  The coals were still slightly warm, telling her that whoever had used the camp hadn’t been gone for that long.  Otherwise, there were a few rocks that had been arranged around the fire, suggesting that they’d used them as makeshift chairs. 

“Bones,” Colt said, kneeling a dozen feet away and pushing something around.  “Looks like cave rabbit.  Gnawed on, too.”

Cave rabbits were the colloquial name for a small subterranean varmint that populated the caves.  There were other creatures that called the tunnels home, but they were the least dangerous prey animals in the area. 

A little more inspection found a latrine pit, all but confirming they were dealing with intelligent foes.  So, going forward, they were far more careful.  Their caution paid off when, more than a day later, they finally found their quarry. 

There were six of them, all gathered around another fire.  A pair of lycosects slept nearby, looking for all the world like some macabre version of family pets.  But Gwenivere’s attention was on the clearly sentient creatures around the fire.

They had blue skin so dark that it was almost black, with stark white hair, pointed ears, and an ethereal beauty Gwenivere had only seen on the few elves that lived in Ironshore. 

From afar, she used Eyes of the Sentinel on the closest one:

Name: Farin Tar

Level: 57

Archetype: Ranger

Class: Shade Hunter

Highest Attribute: Dexterity

 She swallowed hard, and after a moment, she motioned for Colt to back away. 

“Dark elves,” he said once they were well out of hearing range.  He shook his head.  “I knew they existed, but…this ain’t good.  This ain’t good at all.”

“What do you want to do?” she asked.  “They’re all higher level than me.”

He took his ridiculous hat off, then wiped his arm across his forehead.  Glancing back the way they’d come, then in the direction of the dark elf camp.  “We gotta follow ‘em.  I think it’s clear they took the miners.  Killed ‘em, probably.  But we won’t know for sure ‘til we lay eyes on ‘em.”

“We need to find out if there’s more out there, too.  And where they’re getting into the mines,” Gwenivere added, glad that she and Colt were on the same page.  “What do we know about…dark elves?”

“Not much.  Just that they exist and that most other elves don’t particularly like ‘em.  That don’t mean much, given how uppity most elves seem to be,” he said.  Then, he shrugged.  “We need to find out, though.  You in?”

“I’m in.”

Then, the pair returned to where they’d seen the dark elves and began their reconnaissance.  Hopefully, they would soon discover the answers to all their questions.