Trash Mountain Dungeon

Arthur wiped his knife clean, its well-made edge covered in the blood of a holy man. Some would consider what he did sin, and they were likely right, but the young lord found himself increasingly less caring about those people’s opinions.

Now that their enemy had arrived both the dungeon and he could begin their plan. Their overall goal was to create enough chaos amongst those gathered that they could push them out of the mountain, having them battle it out until they lost interest or the dungeon or his people grew powerful enough to pressure them into leaving. And despite a slight pause in communications with the dungeon they had begun the bloody work of pointing the sect’s fingers at each other. The first step was to get their eyes off the dungeon and to each other, something that happened organically at some point before they fully arrived seeing as someone had stolen a holy artifact of some sort.

This meant that the second step of creating accusations would begin almost immediately. The first ones they targeted were the holy men and women, priests, and the few trainee clerics they could target, but rather than just kill them outright, they would leave a few alive to spread the word. Of course, they didn’t do it as men of the Nightingale; no, they did this work as fellow men and women of the cloth and under the illusion of Hestra the demon.

Which brought him back to the present, clothed in the garb of a follower of Spindel, covered in the blood of a Ryland cleric, his face not of the young lord but of some no-name camp laborer. His closest soldiers were likewise disguised, having dealt with several others who accompanied the cleric. Something Arthur would note as interesting was that the dungeon was actually going beyond the original requirements on their end, including their job of increasing in depth and power, it had also begun supplying his people with supplies more directly, ‘rewarding’ his people heavily more than they actually earned each time they entered the dungeon. This made the training and regular delves by the champions all the more important, seeing as they were both the future protectors and present gatherers of the dungeon.

” ’Revic’, we’ve finished.”

The captain of this group, a good soldier, if questionable man.

”Good, let’s return to the high priest, for the lady.”

”For the lady.”

Thankfully it was a monumental task to attract a god’s eye or ear.

Under disguise they began to sneak back to the main camp, leaving tracks and hiding their daggers under a tree hollow. As they approached the tent city they signaled the demonic creature to finish her part, the group swiftly disappearing as they were made invisible. Silently they doubled back, heading for the castle's hidden entrance only a few knew of, a door spelled to only respond to Arthur or his brother.

Making their way into their war room, they dispelled the magic on them and laid out their prizes. Several Reyland insignias, a few knickknacks, and more importantly, the cleric’s holy book. Similar to a grimoire, the holy books of paladins and clerics were capable of casting magic, but rather than raging balls of fire or sheets of ice, it allowed them to heal the sick and wounded, or smite undead and night creatures with holy light.

“Captain, bring the casing.”

He brought out to Arthur a large stretch of adorned leather, one of the many fruits from the dungeon, and began to wrap the book in it, the symbol of Reick branded onto the front. Reick wasn’t a particularly powerful sect, as everyone knew well, but they were a convenient target. As they lost their power and status, it wasn’t uncommon for them to steal and plunder gold, and valuable goods if they thought they could get away with it, and while it had been nearly a decade since the belief came about, it was no less common. Of course, if they were going to blame the bedazzled fools then why bother with the Spindel disguise?

The idea was that they would implicate multiple sects, creating a conspiracy among several.

If they succeeded then they could stir up enough trouble to push them out of the region, maybe even feed his ally a few of them. Regardless, he had to get to that point to consider such a thing.

Quickly, a new face came into the room, not another of his more trusted soldiers, but they would suit their purpose all the same.

“Reporting lord.”

He was on the younger side, loyal and capable, but neither was particularly pertinent to the task at hand.

Arthur and the captain looked over the lad, determining if he was a good fit.

“Have I done anything milord?.”

Huh? Oh right.

”You’ll do nicely soldier, I have an important task for you at the moment, but first I need you to look that way.”

”Al-alright lord?”

He did as such, looking closely into a corner of the room, strange he thought, it almost looked like someone was there-

[charm]

Sam realized he was walking through a camp, but, that didn’t make any sense, the fort was already complete and his place was on the ramparts, what was he doing in a camp?

He began to walk, his body walking on its own.

He began to panic, what was happening, why couldn’t he stop himself, and why couldn’t he yell?!

But those thoughts left once he came upon a large tent, a holy symbol proudly on top.

What was he doing in here, with the holy men?

He began to panic more, as a lowly guard he had little interaction with the newcomers, but he knew the stories and rumors, of abductions and muggings. But something was off, the people here weren’t approaching him, and they even seemed to recognize him.

Passing two pristine guards on the way in, both giving a curt but respectful nod, he came upon a well-dressed man pouring over a large map.

The man opened his mouth to speak.

?!??

What?

Was he speaking a different language?

!???!.

No, not some forge in tongue, he could see the other man’s mouth moving in common, something was very wrong with Sam.

But replacing his rising panic was a blossom of pain, and looking down he saw why, an arrow shaft had gone through his side. Falling over, his body once again acted without him, throwing a bundle of some sort to the man.

Sam could hear cries of surprise and outrage, of swords, daggers, and staves being drawn as the sounds of fighting became clear to his muddling ears. He felt worse than helpless, unable to get up, and unable to cry for help, he lay there, feeling his lifeblood flow from his side onto the ground around him. As his vision began to dim, and what of his body he could feel grew cold, a beautiful woman appeared before him.

Please, I don’t want to die, I just wanted to earn some money!

”Oh sweet fool, it’s so much worse than that.”

Her enticing smile expanded into a maw of teeth and pain, and as a battle raged around them, Sam had come face to face with a demon.

P-please don’t kill me!

From a difficult-to-spot portion of the top ramparts, Arthur and the captain watched through a spyglass as the fighting spilled out of the Reick camp into those around. Neither man felt good about what they had done, but for the sake of their people, their land, and some petty vengeance, they knew they must do this.

Flapping could be heard, and in a burst of smoke, Hestra appeared, covered in blood and moving suggestively, evidently she had partaken in the bloodshed.

”Humph, had your fill then beast, scare some poor sod before you devoured him!”

”Just so my dear captain, that little boy you sent was rather delicious.”

Both men went for their weapons, but Arthur knew it would have been folly, a beast such as she had gorged on flesh and spirit down there, and thus her damnable power would be at its peak for several days. Arthur knew that his brother commanded her and was likely aware of her actions, but something about her screamed at Arthur that she was doing something more.

“You're done demon, return to my brother so he can throw you off some pit in the hells.”

”Hmmm, very well, but do visit me in those pits sometime, I think you would fit in just right, and I could always use a new bed warmer.”

She faded back into smoke and ash, traveling unseen down to Arthur’s brother.

”Uh, sir?”

”Yes?”

”We’re not going to be going up, once it’s over, are we.”

Sigh “No captain, I don’t think we will.”

And the two men stood there, listening to the cries and screams of fighting and blood. It wouldn’t be a major blow to the bigger threats, but it was a major first step to their end goal. In the future, better plans and better tools would need to be used, people bribed, magic cast, and all sorts of maneuvers would need to be made. But for now, he and his loyal captain stood and listened.