Fantasy DUNGEON DELVER: Secrets of Caedia — Expedition #6, The Shale Flats

[Elenion Aura]

DUNGEON DELVER

Secrets of Caedia

A Voice in the Dark

"Listen, my Chosen,

to the stones that weep beneath your feet."

• XXXXXX1

• 「 #6 」
  The Shale Flats

  The Shale Flats are an unremarkable stretch of barren, rocky terrain located in one of the more stable levels beneath Caedia. The ground is covered in layers of loose shale and gravel, with little to no vegetation except for the occasional patch of moss clinging to damp stone.
  
  Despite its desolate appearance, the Shale Flats are known for a single resource: shale salt. This mineral, extracted from the rock through slow and laborious methods, is used on the surface in everything from preservation of food to certain alchemical processes. While not a particularly valuable or exciting commodity, shale salt is in steady demand in the markets of Closter, making it one of the few reasons anyone would venture to this quiet and uninspiring area.
  
  A group of Delvers has been hired to recover a shipment of shale salt that was lost in transport back topside. The caravan carrying the goods broke down when one of its wheels shattered on the jagged terrain, and the driver had to leave the cart behind to seek help. The merchant who owns the cargo is offering a modest reward for anyone willing to retrieve the cart and its load of salt and bring it back to Closter.
  

「 #6 」

OST 1 — MAIN THEME

 

[Elenion Aura]

INTO THE UNKNOWN

Dungeon Revelations

The process of entering through Caedia to one of the Dungeons beneath it is known to be an, at best, disorienting and, at worst, traumatizing experience, especially for first-time Delvers. It is a sensation unlike anything else, as the pit of Caedia transports the persons who stand atop its surface—mind, body, and soul—from one plane of existence to another...

 

[Elenion Aura]

The Shale Flats, Dungeons under Caedia

The world around them shifted with a jarring, disorienting lurch as the Delvers passed—most for the first time—through the portal into the Shale Flats. What began as the warm, familiar glow of torchlight in Caedia quickly twisted, the air snapping into something dry and gritty. It was as though the ground beneath them tilted, time warping until they were thrust into a desolate expanse.

The warmth was gone, replaced by the dry winds sweeping over the cracked, barren terrain. The Shale Flats stretched endlessly in every direction, a wasteland of jagged rocks dotted shale deposits in various states of excavation. The faint light of the surface was replaced by a murky, overcast sky, casting a dim pall over the landscape. Shadows clung to the shallow ridges and low outcroppings scattered across the flats.

The portal from which they had emerged vanished behind them, leaving nothing but the crunch of shale underfoot and the whistle of wind. The Delvers found themselves at the edge of the vast Shale Flats, a barren expanse of cracked, uneven ground that stretched endlessly before them.

Loose shale crunched underfoot as they navigated the rough terrain, dust swirling with every step. Jagged ridges jutted up from the earth, creating a maze of narrow paths and steep outcrops. In the distance, a thin trail of dust marked the location of the broken cart, barely visible against the horizon. The wind howled through the stone, carrying with it the eerie silence of the Flats.

Their mission seemed simple: recover the scattered supplies, repair the cart, and return the cargo to the outpost.

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[Infab]

Expedition #6

Sertoria

HUMAN PALADIN

The Shale Flats, Dungeons under Caedia

"...Terribilis."

The word flowed forth from her lips quietly as she stood, hoisting herself up from the loose shale to her knees. Sertoria had heard that the journey through the portals was a particularly disturbing one to beginners. From unsettling for some, to outright traumatizing for those with weak constitutions. As she knelt there, a knee pressed into the shale, she lifted her helmet up just slightly. Then, she spat out a mass of saliva and some other foul tasting substance. The jump had left a literal bad taste in her mouth, and it was one that she was quick to rid herself of.

She pulled her helmet back down, making sure it was secure before looking about for the others that had come through with her. From what she had gathered before the jump, this was quite the warrior's party. All simply to retrieve a shipment of shale salt. She really didn't mind, though. Work was work, and money was money. Often, good work meant future employment with one of the delving guilds as well. That was really why she was here in the first place, beyond spreading the word and faith of Lord Durge.

She said a silent prayer to the death god, thanking him for guiding his disciple to her destination safely. She also said another prayer, asking him to guide her to foes in need of deliverance. If there were any here, that is.

She located her scutum, the large rectangular shield lying in the shale just a few feet from her, and slipped it onto her left arm. Then, she stood. She straightened herself up, taking in the sights and sounds of the environment. It reminded her a bit of her homeland, in some ways. At least, where she herself was from. The temperature was quite different, though. It was cooler here.

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[Elijay]

Expedition #6

Jin

HUMAN MONK

The Shale Flats, Dungeons under Caedia

Jin stumbled forward as the ground beneath him seemed to lurch, the world around him twisting in a way that felt wrong. His stomach churned, and he instinctively reached for the hilt of his sword, his fingers brushing the familiar grip as he tried to steady himself. For a brief moment, everything was spinning—the warmth of the surface, the soft light of the sun, all of it ripped away.

Then, just as quickly, it was over.

He blinked hard, shaking his head to clear the dizziness, his heart pounding in his chest. “Well… That was something…” said Jin, as he tried his best to resist the urge to throw up.

The air hit him like a cold gust, dry and biting. He coughed, blinking against the dust swirling around him as his bright eyes took in the scene. "So this is the Shale Flats..." His voice was soft with wonder as he gazed across the barren landscape, the jagged ridges and scattered shale crunching beneath his boots, the eerie silence hanging in the air.

The warmth of Closter seemed like a distant dream now, replaced by the chilly, lifeless expanse before him. Jin shivered, though not just from the cold. There was something strange about this place, something that made the back of his neck prickle, but he pushed the feeling aside. It’s fine, he told himself, flashing a quick smile at the thought. Just another part of the journey, right?

His gaze traveled to the horizon, spotting a faint trail of dust in the distance. Barely visible against the rugged terrain was the broken cart. Jin’s eyes lit up as he pointed toward it. “That’s gotta be it! The objective of today’s mission."

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[Haze-]

Expedition #6

MORRWYN

DRAGON SLAYER

THE SHALE FLATS, DUNGEONS UNDER CAEDIA

He’d made a busy, hard-working man of himself in the past few days in-between his first expedition.

Menial labor, a full hand-count of uneventful delves and double that amount of odd jobs for the needy, desperate folk that hung around the streets of Closter like a stain, a name scratched on a wall, just waiting for someone to pay mind to it— he’d met enough new faces to pack a tavern full, heard enough names to forget over half of them inside that same tavern. He’d built a name for himself.

Even if, admittedly, that name was met with resigned, begrudging looks and rolling eyes upon the mere mention of it. Still, they’d met his spear, his fire, and had recognized his value. Hells, he’d even gotten a leadership role for his efforts.

In his heart of hearts, he knew that his guildmates and the folks around Closter were just playing hard to get. Why else would they have appointed him leader of an entire party if they weren’t? Realistically speaking, likely in hopes to send him to his untimely death and finally be rid of the tiresome spear wielding giant roaming the streets. That, or they’d finally taken a shine to his obnoxiousness.

Either way, it was a nice gesture. In a twisted, masochistic way, he felt it was.

“Bloody ‘ell…!” — The dragon prince found himself stumbling out of the portal. A jarring, almost worrisome sight, watching the giant, hulking beast of a man that was their expedition leader twist and turn in place— as if he were struggling to regain his footing on a tightrope. He’d gotten better at handling the travel too, sort of. It was quite the step-up, going from falling flat on his ass to now standing tall on the other side of the gate.

“Bah, you’ll get used t’ it! No worries.” — He turned to his party with a wide, idiot smile on his face, offering the rookball delvers a glowing thumbs up as they lay there lurching.

There was a sizzle of stage fright sputtering in his chest at the first sight of the squad he would lead. There still was, frankly. There, beating at his ribcage. The only real guidance he could draw from for reference was from his first ever delve, his first ever expedition leader. Raphael. The man had taught him the very barebone basics of what an expedition leader should be. To be irrationally gloomy, angsty, unapproachable and (somewhat) dependable.

All in all, three of those things he couldn’t do fully, not without putting up an act.

Not to mention Raphael had also taught him to take one foot away from the splash zone before any of the rookie delvers decided to empty their stomach on your boots. On that note, Morrwyn took a healthy few steps away from the party members that were still recovering from the jump. He cleared his throat, clapped his hands to get their undivided attention.

“You’ve a sharp eye, Sire Jin!” — Morrwyn reached down to pat a hand on their monk’s back, a muted thanks for reminding them of what their objective was (yes, he’d forgotten already).

He was a towering monster of a knight, casting a tall shadow over each of them, but there was something in the way he moved, talked, that didn’t quite fit the brawn he wore.

He had a youthful spike of energy laced in his voice. A warm, airheaded smile that belied no real intentions. A slouched posture that seemed ever too relaxed, too harmless — it just wasn’t right at all — “Well! Like ‘a told y’lot before we went through t’ gate,” — He reiterated, like a concerned mother duck to her little ducklings — “On’t go faffin’ around too far from t’ group. If y’see or step on any critter ‘at looks funny, don’t let it bite ya’. Ask me questions n’ I’ll pretend like a’ know t’ answer. Should be a reet fun bloody time if none ‘a ye’ lads stray too far from common sense, aye?”

"Oh, and don't think it'll be a piece a' cake, this. Keep y' ear lug open for anythin'. Why do ya' think that cart's even flipped on its ass in the first place? Suspicious, if I do say so me'self..." — With a mischievous grin and one final unsettling warning, the prince sauntered his way over to the broken-down cart. Leisurely. Whistling and humming a tune, a ballad. Something about a vampire and his vomit-soaked boots.

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[gxxberkit]

Expedition #6

SAINT MIETTE

AASIMAR CLERIC

THE SHALE FLATS, DUNGEONS UNDER CAEDIA

Miette's grip tightened on her staff, stabbing the diamond-shaped pommel into the rocky ground. Her legs wobbled like slime as gravity seemed to try its hardest to drag her down. It must've given up rather quickly, though, as she found herself promptly stabilizing and straightening up as though it had never happened.

Clearing her throat, her deep gaze drifted over the flats beyond her. The cool air that brushed her skin was barely noticeable, not with the natural warmth she felt as a child of divinity. But what was noticeable was the dull gray expanse that seemed to go on forever and ever. So... drab. It was nothing like the flourishing gardens that made up her little cottage. She couldn't help the scrunch of her nose at the sight of the insipid land; she was lucky she didn’t yawn and choke on the dusty air.

Her eyes soon fell onto the larger gray-armored woman that kneeled in the rocks in front of her. An eyebrow raised as she questioned the woman’s still silence— up until she recognized what the bulky figure was doing. A mini jolt went through her once she realized. Tucking her staff into the crook of her arm, her soft palms met each other in front of her chest. “Maythegodsblessusandourjourney. Maywethanktheirguidanceaswearegratefulfortheirreigns. Throughtheirgiftswethrive,” she muttered. Though, with how quickly she said it, it sounded more like “hhhbdhdbdhhdfdfjgshdjjdhbsahhewhbebdahdvasd.”

Her staff returned to her hand just in time for the cart in the far distance to be brought to her attention. When her gaze landed on it, she could only scoff.

OoOoooOOoHh NOoooOOOoOo, the saaaaalt is looooost! Whatever will we do!?!?! she mocked inwardly.

Miette didn't know whether to be pissed to the hells or grateful to the gods that *this* is the first Delve she's going on. Really? Missing salt? They could be using the time and resources they have for something more important. Like, just get more salt! Do they really have to retrieve the exact salt that went missing? And— what do they need a healer for!? The salt isn't about to come to life and pummel the expedition to the ground.

Then again, it could always be worse. She could be stuck with a bunch of absolute imbeciles.

Oh wait. She is! She couldn't be sure, but just listening to her fellow delvers speak on the way here, she was confident at least two of them had cheese for brains. Unfortunately, one of them was their expedition leader.

Huffing an indignant sigh, the aasimar begrudgingly trailed behind the group. "What's suspicious is how you came to be in charge of anything," she taunted, cutting through the guiding member’s obnoxious tune. The shimmering staff sweeped towards the youngest member of their little group. "I'm plenty sure that this child would do a better job than you." Did it matter that she had just met the lot of them just today? No. No it did not.

She drew the staff back in, using it almost like a cane as they continued on. Her voice lowered to a grudging mumble, “At the very least, they seem much more competent.” She glared at the young child. “For a brat.”

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[Develius]

Expedition #6

Redhalia

HUMAN PALADIN

The Shale Flats, Dungeons under Caedia

Agony... Crimson agony.

She could feel it. All of it. Every single molecule within her body becoming one with the swirling inferno of this purple hell. Her mind feeling as if it had been dismantled and reassembled back together simultaneously, as did the weight of which her soul seemingly ripped from her conscious. All of which happening within a matter of seconds; perhaps even less than a single moment entirely. Though given the terrible nausea and dizzying malaise she'd be afflicted with afterwards, it might as well have lasted for eternity.

Redahlia had surely underestimated the effects of which portal travel had on her.

Emerging from the portal, the knight steeled herself the best she could as she took her first step into what was told to be the desolate Shale Flats. A blood-red sabaton stepped forth from the egress, crunching against the pale cracked ground that gritted with a fine layer of salt and basalt-gray rock.

Finally. Solid ground beneath her feet.

Revealing the rest of her deep crimson armor, it contrasted sharply with the environment. A splotch of brilliant color against the lifeless expanse of cold, dry desert. Staring out towards the vast expanse before her, she'd feel her reddish eyes water while they adjusted to the white light. Her long lavish hair - crimson as her attire - flowed violently behind her against the crisp winds battering her pale scarred skin.

...One could notice a trickle of blood running slowly down her left nostril.

She kept the stalwart act for as long as she could, before the red knight succumbed to the after effects. Her lance stabbed the ground while Redahlia leaned against it with a breathy wheeze, supporting her body and keeping it from crumpling towards the ground. Every gasp of air was laboring; her chest feeling tight as if her lungs had shriveled twice their size. Swallowing was an equally painful procedure; her mouth dry and feeling as if thousands of needles were scraping against her throat. Yet this pain... was welcomed.

It gave her strength. It gave her fury. It gave her purpose.

Pain reminded her that she was alive.

Slowly regaining her composure, the knight stood tall while looking upon the rest of the delvers joining her. It was clear that she wasn't the only one to have suffered the portal's toll. Everyone had taken it just as well as Redahlia; which is to say they suffered along with her. Though some appeared worse off than others.

The party before her currently was composed of several notable figures. An armored warrior in dull-armor stood stalwart with blade and shield. A modest young man in a black tunic smiled innocently at his predicament. A gilded woman tightly grasping her staff with a pompous look in her eye. And an abnormally tall figure adorned in armor befitting a royal prince, taking impromptu charge of the group even against his loose, free-living expression suggesting otherwise.

But now was not the time to dabble aimlessly this early on. For their quarry was within their sights. In the distance, the broken cart they were tasked to fetch stood by its lonesome. Full of shale. Harking for someone - anyone - to reunite it with its beloved owner. Of course, such situations often presented themselves as woefully deceptive. The chances of an ambush occurring appeared to be high. Thus everyone had to be on guard, less they risk cutting their mission short.

Raising her heavy lance, Redahlia would proceed to advance with purposeful stride; watching her surroundings with a silent, unwavering stare.

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[AriAriAbabwa]

Expedition #6

AUREVELE

ELF PALADIN

The Shale Flats, Dungeons under Caedia

Aurevele desperately wanted to ask about everyone's armor. Who was their smith? Where did they get it from? What was their daily routine? How much did maintenance cost? But alas, the elf knew better than to geek out then and there. While the party dealt with the travel sickness in their own ways, Aurevele quickly double checked her supplies, in preparation for what may have been a perilous mission—or not! It was impossible to predict the Dungeon these days.

Anyway, what a marvelous mission to be a part of! The Shale Flats had its own beauty and mystique, unlike anything the world above had to offer. She wondered if her fellow party members enjoyed it all the same? Then again, that delight may lead some of the rookies to a false sense of security. She was compelled to remind them, and the expedition leader had the same idea.

She smiled, grateful for having a well-traversed slayer by their side. "Greetings, expedition leader!" she waved, showing a bright and toothy smile before inevitably shielding it with the helmet. "I agree wholeheartedly. Be wary, everyone! The dungeon is known for its deceptiveness. Watch your back, your step, and your companions." It helped to reinforce, she felt.

One of them, the Aasimar Cleric, responded to Morrwyn with... was she trying to belittle him? Or... no! Silly me! Aurevele's heart warmed as she realized, she was just trying to reassure the youngest of the party! Coming up beside the cleric, she said, "You are very kind, complimenting your fellow delver as such! But dependable leadership comes with experience, and is earned. It's a position that I do not see myself taking on, as it requires you to be on your utmost vigilance. The responsibilities on your shoulders feel tenfold heavier, and that is a mindset I cannot yet comprehend while heading into potential combat. There's also..." And she did not stop yapping.

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[AzaleaWonderland]

Expedition #6

Trinket

Human Artificer

THE SHALE FLATS, DUNGEONS UNDER CAEDIA

The experience was almost indescribable. Her breath and other senses were stolen, for a moment, but it felt as though her entire being broke into puzzle pieces before explosively reassembling. Their head was splitting with migraines as if their brain had been thrown down the stairs. It was unbelievably disorientating, she could understand how it would traumatize some. But, they're no stranger to their body freaking out. They carefully sit down crisscross apple sauce, and begin exercises developed for when their sword would fling them till their lunch felt like leaving.
One, two, three, deep breath and hold it. Three, two, one, and let it go. Trinket repeated this until her body calmed down, and the panic of being thrown into another plane of existence subsided along with the other symptoms.

Now Trinket could actually get to work, pushing themselves back up to their feet. The aura was almost absent in this place other than a few dim patches of life, giving off a faint glow. The wind was pretty nice and reminded her of the cold autumn nights she spent training with The Harvest. Search and recovery wasn't exactly her forte given her impairments, but that did beg the question of why she was even let onto this delve. Something else was strange if the driver's only problem was truly a broken wheel why did they not just get a replacement and return to complete the journey? Could it be a time-sensitive matter, could large amounts of shale salt attract undesirable creatures over time? Though, it is hard to imagine anything that could survive in a place this desolate. It would've been nice to study up on this layer beforehand, but reading books has become quite troublesome after donning the Trick Tiara. Maybe they were making a big deal out of nothing, but it's better to be prepared for a fight that never comes instead of being caught off guard. Now that her senses were functional she could pay attention to the group around her.

One had a golden-orange aura with flakes of red and black bleeding through. Their aura flowed upwards before dripping back down to their feet. Occasionally the drops looked as though they formed into skulls before assimilating back into the oozing mass. A chill went down her spine, 'eerie'. The person who'd spotted their target had one that was purple with a few fractures. It looked controlled and well-honed almost like a blade out of the forge, yet it clearly needed more time in the forge. The leader had a deep red aura which looked like a small pyre. To Trinket, it almost looked like the jaws of a beast unknown to her were snapping and clawing to get out. It'd be grand if it wasn't so under-kindled, that's the only way Trinket could describe it. One of pale yellow was deep in an undecipherable prayer. Their aura spiked out against the others like dancing quills on a hedgehog. Otherwise, the aura was solid, full, and purposeful, which made Trinket question why it was lashing out in such a unique way. One would think she'd know everything about this pseudo-sight of hers by now, but it continues to be a mystery with every new person they encounter. Another had a bright crimson aura with a dark hole, a missing portion. For some reason, seeing that made Trinket somewhat sad. But that didn't distract her from the unique way this one's aura moved like it was boiling water. It was a strong and bright aura, so much so that it almost felt blinding. Trinket could only wonder what kind of life would produce such an aura. The final one she noticed had an extremely pale purple aura. The aura looked light and airy. But between the cloudlike aura was a dark vortex swirling in the middle, often masked behind her cloudy aura.

She started to follow the group, dragging the sword behind, and scrapping the ground as they went. The expedition leader was definitely a character, they weren't sure if he was even speaking their language half the time. The leader was also acting like this was a field trip or something instead of work. She just hoped she wouldn't be forced to do trust falls or anything of the sort. The one of pale yellow brought a fair point, at least from her perspective. Trinket can't say they wouldn't have questioned the leader's qualifications. But, looking at everyone, they could tell this group was capable, if not a little unpolished. Trinket disliked making hasty judgments; After all, if she paused to consider the items she found were cursed, she may not even be in this mess. In addition, she wasn't so naive to think that the pale yellow believed she could be a leader. Trinket was merely being used as a tool to belittle someone else. As much as she'd love to say, 'Do not use me for your petty insults,' unfortunately, she knew that'd only give the yellow hedgehog more reason to drag out the pointless complaints. And now there was a naive lady, who seemed to only hear what she wanted to, yapping about trivial topics. So, maybe some diplomatic phrasing would work, "If I may be so bold to interject. I believe it would benefit us to keep our talking to a minimum. If we miss a sign of an ambush or falling debris because we were busy conversing, that would be less than ideal."
It was the most polite way they could think of to say, 'shut up.'

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[Elenion Aura]

The Shale Flats, Dungeons under Caedia

As the Delvers approached the distant shape of the broken cart in the distance, the keen-eyed among them would begin to just make out the silhouette of a figure hunched over it. Someone was already there.

The figure beside the cart was hard to make out at first. From a distance, it seemed human enough—a tall, cloaked figure, back bent as it picked through the crates, tossing something aside with an absentminded flick. Then, as the Delvers drew closer, certain details began to emerge that seemed... Off. The cloak clung to its shoulders unnaturally, like it had been sculpted there, a texture too rough to be fabric. And there was something wrong with its skin. No, not skin.

Stone.

Its whole body was carved of dull, gray rock, yet it moved fluidly, magick animating its stone limbs with surprising ease. Ancient glyphs pulsed sapphire along its arms and chest, glowing faintly in the dim light, and as it rose to its full height, the Delvers could just barely make out its face: a blank, smooth plane with only the suggestion of eyes and mouth. Yet it turned toward them with an unmistakeable awareness.

It was a Stone Golem, a magical construct animated by forces older than living memory, its shadow looming over the broken cart. Faint, glowing blue runes traced patterns across its stony skin, flickering with an arcane light.

It was a Stone Golem. And it had seen them.

For a moment, there was a tense silence.

For a moment, there was a pause, where it could have attacked, could have alerted unseen allies, could have done any number of things that would spell trouble for the Delvers.

But instead, breaking the stalemate, the golem raised a massive, stone hand and gave them an cordial wave.

“Ah! Good day to you all!” it greeted them in the common tongue, its voice carrying a warm, surprisingly cheerful tone despite also sounding deep and echoing, as if the sound came from the depths of a cavern.

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[Haze-]

Expedition #6

MORRWYN

DRAGON SLAYER

THE SHALE FLATS, DUNGEONS UNDER CAEDIA

The heavy thud of his footsteps muttered and rumbled along the schist underfoot, echoing, chasing along the wind and dying once it broke on the riblike, protruding rocky ridges spotting the flats.

The prince strutted onward, like he were prancing through a field of flowers instead of a barren shale-land. Hefting the imposing weight of his spear and making it hop with each step on his shoulder. Without a care in the world, seemingly. Herding the little ducklings along, either to a damn good story they could pass around on repeat back at the local tavern, or to a very painful death.

The journey was a toss of a coin.

His chirpy tune only stopped at the voice of their cleric snapping his attention mid-singsong. Morrwyn’s shoulder slumped, slowly, then jumped back up with a flinch at every bitter jab that caught his ear, as if her words were a dozen knives dug and twisted into his back. She reminded her of the subject of his song, funnily enough. Even a esteemed cleric could be a bloated raincloud looming overhead, he figured.

“Dinnae be mean to t’ wee one, now,” — A haughty chuckle turned to an awkward scoff. He threw an apologetic stare at the girl dragging the longsword along the ground. It was his nerves getting to him, being fresh into his role and all. Surely — “Or at least try to get along…”

The mere idea of them leaving a bad review on their dungeon guide, the taint on his reputation, had every cell in his overgrown body reduced to a sweating, nervous mess— had the draconic blood sizzling through his coronaries go dead cold. He could already see them, all the passive-aggressive remarks and snide hollers coming his way back at the guild. It was exhausting to think about how to handle these rooks.

Was it the accent that was annoying their cleric? The attitude? Was he not forcing his voice to be gravelly enough? Didn’t sound seasoned?

All these thoughts and more, snapped in half in his mind just as the voice of one of their (many) paladin reached him. An amiable voice, for a change. Speaking of compliments and (non-existent) flatteries. Morrwyn quirked a brow over his crown — “Compli…menting? I—yeah, aye! At’s what she meant by all that. I think…”

“Did she…?” — He didn’t have time to think whether Aurevele was hearing things or he was. The paladin just—

“But dependable leadership comes with experience, and is earned.”

“Well said, Lady Aurevele!”

Went on.

“It's a position that I do not see myself taking on, as it requires you to be on your utmost vigilance.“

“A’hm sure a burdened man!”

And kept going.

“The responsibilities on your shoulders feel tenfold heavier,”

“Aye.”

And going.

“And that is a mindset I cannot yet comprehend while heading into potential combat.”

“Y-Yes, I agree.”

And—

“There's also…—"

“We get it…”

He thought she would never stop.

For some inward, inexplicable reason, there was this urge rising within him to throw a brick at her. A hypothetical brick, of course. He would never hurt another delver, not willingly. Wouldn’t be so princely of him.

Thankfully for him, he wouldn’t have to throw any imaginary bricks, — “Like t’ lass says,” — Trinket just so happened to voice what everyone else was likely thinking. With an awful cordial approach, to boot — “Keep t’ haver at a low, aye? Stay sharp.” — Either too keen for her size already, or too used to people chewing her ears deaf before. Morrwyn couldn’t tell.

How could she even see through those wrappings around her eyes anyways? His musings took him, a gloved pinkie going up to prod and adjust the blacksteel crown covering his eyes 24/7.

A mystery, certainly.

“…?” — His brain caught the sound booming on his ear before his eyes zeroed in on the source. Before any of his ducklings, of course. Both from the boon of his sharp ears, and of the sheer tremor the thing made as it moved. Sensitive wyverian senses would pick it up, specially after having an encounter with something that made the exact same tremors before. Same noises. Stone grinding on stone. Mana pulsing and tightening to hold the whole together.

A golem.

He grinned, keeping the spear still on his shoulder as he approached, only stopping once the golem had spotted them. There was pause, a beat, a cold exchange between a faceless, stone visage and the prince’s crown. He could cut the air with a swipe of his glaive, and he’d still find it asphyxiating.

The crowded air only broke once the golem raised his hand, gave them a wave. Morrwyn immediately drew out his spear, outstretched his hand to the side— batting it lightly at the ducklings, signaling them to stop. Let mama duck handle things — “Good day, friend,” — The childish tone in his voice dropped, and the accent followed it wherever it went. He sounded like a proper knight — “'Tis a delving expedition, we were sent here to retrieve some delayed goods."

He speared the ground beside him, folded his arms, showed he wasn't a threat — “And, well— ’twould appear you have stumbled upon our objective! We are to take the cart— along with the salt— back home, y'see. Would y'mind explaining what’s your relation to this yield of salt, friend?”

They hadn’t mentioned a golem would be there guarding the cart after all. What the hell was it doing anyways? Eating the salt?

Interactions: Infab Elijay AzaleaWonderland Elenion Aura gxxberkit Develius AriAriAbabwa

Code by Serobliss

 

[Elijay]

Expedition #6

Jin

HUMAN MONK

The Shale Flats, Dungeons under Caedia

Jin chuckled a bit, rubbing the back of his neck as Morrwyn praised his sharp eye. “Oh, it wasn’t too hard to spot, but thanks for the compliment anyway.” Morrwyn’s cheerful banter helped make the Flats feel a bit less... well, flat, even though the desolate landscape still had him on edge.

As they started walking, Morrwyn’s warning about “faffin’ around” echoed in his mind, and Jin’s expression turned thoughtful, almost serious. His eyes scanned the cracked shale and gravel with care; strange places like this demanded caution, and he wasn’t gonna just lower his guard in a place like this.

When Miette’s sharp words cut through the air, Jin blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Someone was certainly on edge today, though he wasn’t sure why. Then, he tried his best to keep a straight face as Aurevele’s enthusiastic chatter washed over the group. She bounced from topic to topic with ease. Her energy was… well, a lot, but there was a charm to it, and he couldn’t help but smile as he listened.

The grating sound of Trinket’s sword dragging across the ground broke through his thoughts, and he glanced over his shoulder at her with an eyebrow raised. That was when Trinket finally had enough, and told Aurevele to shut up in the most polite manner possible. Jin stifled a chuckle in response. She had a point—Aurevele seemed like she could go on all day yapping away if nobody was there to stop her. Even their expedition leader was starting to get tired of her yapping.

“Good call, Trinket,” he said, grinning as he gave her a quick nod. “But, uh… I do have to ask something real quick. Is it really alright to be dragging around your sword like that? You could damage the blade you know! If it’s too heavy, I could carry it for you, no problemo!” The poor little girl probably didn't have enough strength to lift it after all...

Finally, the party neared the cart, and Jin’s eyes widened as they approached the figure by the cart. It was a Stone Golem, ancient runes pulsing faintly across its smooth, rocky frame. It was like something out of the old stories he used to listen to back in Amberfall, wide-eyed and enthralled. His hand instinctively went to his sword, though more from reflex than any actual plan to attack.

And then… it waved.

“Uh… what?” Jin stammered, loosening his grip in surprise as the golem’s deep, friendly voice echoed across the Flats. “Good day…?” he echoed, caught between awe and disbelief.

He watched as Morrwyn stepped forward to greet the golem. The ancient guardian was like nothing Jin had ever seen—a creature of stone, alive with strange magic. If it was here for the salt too, that might mean trouble. Jin jabbed a finger at the golem as he called out, “Hey! You’re not stealing our salt, are you?!”

Interactions:
Infab AzaleaWonderland Elenion Aura gxxberkit Develius AriAriAbabwa Haze-

Code by Serobliss