“Let’s get a few things straight, shall we?”

  After I had shaken off the initial disorientation from shifting through the portal, I had a brief moment to look over the notification I received.

  You have entered the [Novice] Dungeon: The Haunted Scriptorium!

  Level: 11-19

  Description: Monks are held captive by tortured spirits and forced to repent under the tyranny of a Fallen Priest.

  Trial: Discover the motive behind the Fallen Priest’s plan and stop them by any means necessary.

  Bonus Trial: Rescue the Prisoners

  Reward: TBD

  I brushed the notification away and looked over at Octave who was looking around our new surroundings with a calm, dry expression.

  “May I ask a question first?” I asked, holding up a hand to forestall the obvious attempt to take charge.

  “Very well,” Octave answered impatiently.

  “Thank you. What makes a Dungeon? I mean, I understand they are grown from Dungeon Cores, but I thought that they populated themselves with Mana grown monsters? How is it that some Dungeons seem capable of capturing others and making them a part of Dungeons?”

  Octave scowled and folded his arms and flew to hover slightly above me so he could look down upon me. I was beginning to recognize this was one of the angel’s ways of chastising me and making himself feel superior.

  My opinion on Angels is forever changed because of this Cherub, Ord forgive me.

  “The answer to that is simple, mortal! What is inside you? What is inside of all mortals? Mana Cores! When a Dungeon Core is formed it naturally draws in the ambient mana from its surroundings and that includes the Mana Cores of individuals, beasts and monsters. To call a Dungeon Core a seed is a misnomer. It is a hungry belly. It wants to eat and doesn’t care where it gets its mana from. Yet, it is a slow, subtle process. Why, a person or even an entire Abbey for instance might be unknowingly caught up in the slow digestion of a Dungeon Core.” Octave smirked and jerked a finger behind him. “Just look around you! These stones match the ones in the Abbey, do they not? The Dungeon Core here has devoured, digested and formed a Mana Memory of what it has eaten to form this Dungeon.”

  “A Mana Memory,” I murmured thoughtfully. The first Dungeon I had ever entered had been a memory.

  “Have we gone back in time?” I asked curiously. Octave shook his head.

  “No, we are in a place frozen in time. Some Dungeons can play out the events of the past if they have had time to gestate long enough, I suppose, but most Dungeons are just bits and pieces of people, places and things drawn from a fixed point in time and replayed according to the whims of the Dungeon Core. Everything is affected. Even the dead, monsters and Infernals can be caught up and repurposed by a Dungeon Core. It is one of the reasons Cores are so valuable. In fact, if we were to locate the one that powers this Dungeon, offering it to Great Ord would grant you much favor!” Octave grinned and rubbed his hands. “It would make me look good too.”

  “Right, well…the Trial indicates a Priest has betrayed his oath and needs to be stopped. There are also prisoners being held somewhere we need to rescue. If they are part of the Dungeon, can they be rescued?” Octave nodded.

  “A Dungeon Core operates under a set of rules. If there are innocents who have been drawn here by the Core and you have been given the option of saving them, then the Core would likely release them safely from the Dungeon. On the other hand, if they are killed or cannot be found…” Octave let the thought linger in the air. I nodded in understanding.

  Then they will either be dead or become part of the Dungeon permanently. I’m not sure which option is worse!

  “As I was about to say, we must decide upon our roles.” The bow reappeared in Octave’s hand and his white toga was replaced with a golden breastplate and a matching set of bracers and a winged helm. To be fair, he looked impressive. “I am best used at range,” Octave began, “but I also have three abilities I am able to make use of. Piercing Shot does additional damage against armored opponents. Mocking Laughter does Psychic damage against an enemy and does double damage against Infernals.”

  I grinned, remembering in my first Dungeon how the Cherubs had driven the Hellblade to near madness with their playful laughter.

  “What are you smiling at? I can assure you that ability is no joke!”

  “Forgive me, Octave. Please continue.”

  “Hmph! Finally, I have Sunburst, which can blind enemies for 3 seconds.”

  I nodded and gave him my full Active spell load out. His eyes widened when he heard each spell.

  “We may actually do this. Yet, Harken to me! To use Vow of Contagion, you will have to physically touch the enemy. Wait for me to blind them with Sunburst before you do. Keep an eye to the cool downs on your buffs, Mantle of Intellect and Caretaker’s Guidance. Don’t be hesitant to cast Minor Mana Tap on multiple enemies. Keep your Mana well as full as possible at all times. You never know when you or myself will need a big heal. Save your attack spells for tougher enemies I cannot manage alone. Conserve mana! Minor Cube of Confusion will be your best offense until we learn what we are up against.”

  Everything Octave said made sense and I nodded my understanding. I couldn’t hide my sense of relief that I wasn’t doing this alone. We were both standing in what looked like a reconstituted version of the Scriptorium. A ‘Mana Memory’ of what the building had looked like before it burned to the ground.

  What would happen if I removed the Dungeon Core from the Dungeon?

  I would be rich, of course, but what would happen to the memories? The people? I cast my buffs and equipped my weapon, the Staff of the Stone Bishop. Octave nodded in approval and flew forward. We were at set of step leading downwards to a set of double doors I assumed would take us directly to the Scriptorium. However, I doubted the Dungeon Core would make things so easy.

  Octave set an arrow to his bow. Both gave off a golden light and as much as I would have preferred to let him go first, I felt it better that I should. The door had an elaborate wood carving depicting monks seated at desks and holding quills. Yet, as I looked closer, something was off.

  “Octave, take a look at this.” I said, pointing to a carving of a monk seated and bent over a desk working diligently upon a manuscript. “Notice anything strange?” The Cherub look between the carving and back to me.

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  “No?”

  “Look closer at what the monk is working on.” Octave flew closer, eyes narrow and looked at what the monk in the carving was drawing.

  “Strange to draw oneself…yelling?”

  “Or screaming,” I said. Octave shrugged.

  “As you say. I think I’ll allow you to open the door.” Octave flew behind me.

  I kept my expression neutral and pushed the door open. It opened easily and there waiting for us were two spectral figures. I quickly analyzed them with Lore Sight.

  Mournful Brother

  Level: 13

  Mournful Brother

  Level: 12

  Lore: The soul of a former monk cast into Limbo to suffer an eternity of agony.

  Advanced Lore: Brother Lancis was found guilty of the sin of spurning the sacred Truth. His soul must now stand guard before the Scriptorium to forbid entry to all who refuse to do the holy work of Xat.

  Advanced Lore: Brother Tarfo was found guilty of sneaking rations to feed the “heretic” prisoners. His soul must now stand guard before the Scriptorium to forbid entry to all who refuse to do the holy work of Xat.

  “Xat!?” I exclaimed, horrified.

  “What?” asked Octave, shooting me a confused look.

  “Take them down!” I shouted and I slammed the butt of my staff upon the ground to attract the Brothers’ attention.

  The Mournful Brothers were pale, translucent ghosts that bled a foul, eldritch energy into the air. Their eyes were alight with an energy it hurt to gaze upon. They both floated in the air, their dark robes billowing beneath them as they flew towards me, mouths opened impossibly wide as they moaned and reached forward to try and grab me with their bone white hands.

  They were thwarted by the power of the staff, the Blessing of Angelus forming a golden bell forming about my person as the spirits slammed into the shield and were both cast backward.

  Bong!

  Bell’s Reverberation returns 13 points of damage!

  Bell’s Reverberation returns 17 points of damage!

  Octave fired two arrows one after the other, each one leaving a streak of golden light in the air to impact into each spirit. Golden sparks flew from the points of impact and I winced to see the pain upon each monk’s face.

  We set them free. We release them from their torment!

  The Blessing of Angelus lasted only 3 seconds and required a short cool down to use again. I knew Octave wanted me to conserve mana, but I had yet to use any and my buffs were already in place. Congruency Darts were a quick cast and release. As the last one launched, I realized I had never used them against multiple enemies before. I had no way of guiding them, save by will, yet the geometrical pathways of the darts found their targets alone. Two impacting one Brother, and three impacting the other.

  You have damaged {Mournful Brother Lancis} for 11 points of damage!

  You have damaged {Mournful Brother Tarfo} for 8 points of damage!

  You have damaged {Mournful Brother Tarfo} for 12 points of damage!

  You have damaged {Mournful Brother Lancis} for 11 points of damage!

  You have damaged {Mournful Brother Tarfo} for 6 points of damage!

  Each of my darts caused the spirits to jerk and wail in pain. Octave’s arrows were doing the most damage and each of his hits seemed to diminish the monks further and further until finally with a final wail Mournful Brother Tarfo burst into a cloud of ash that fell to the ground. Moments later, Mournful Brother Lancis also burst into a cloud of ash that fell to the floor beside the other pile.

  You have gained +10 Faction with Ord.

  You have gained +10 Faction with Tek.

  You have gained +5 Faction with Wik.

  You have lost -5 Faction with Mir.

  I frowned as I looked at the Faction changes. Why had Lady Mir found fault with my actions? I thought about it a moment. Was there another way I might have handled that conflict? I didn’t see how?

  “Octave, how familiar are you with gaining and losing Faction?” The Cherub was using an arrow to poke through the ash piles.

  “Only that if you wish to gain Faction with one of the Gods, you must carry out their will upon Aramyr.” I nodded.

  “Yet, sometimes the Will of one God may oppose the Will of another?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

  “That’s correct. Why? I imagine Ord is pleased to see fallen ones dealt with?” Octave ceased his search and flew closer to me, a curious expression on his face.

  “He was, but Mir was displeased. I wonder if there was another way we might have one that fight? Was fighting necessary? Could we have reasoned with the Brothers?” Octave sighed and shook his head.

  “First of all, you attacked them first and I just followed your lead. Second, if you try to follow a path of attempting to please every God you are doomed to fail.”

  “Why?”

  “Because there will always be opposition, both between Light and Shadow or Light with Light, Shadow with Shadow. The Gods are each individuals and complicated entities. Always striving for more processing power and more influence.”

  “I’m sorry, what did you just say?” I gave Octave a confused look. “What do you mean by processing power?” Why did that sound so familiar?

  “Did I say that? I meant that they are always looking for ways to achieve a level of superiority over one another. Look, just do what I do and follow the will of Ord. You’ll be fine, Prophet!” Octave flew further into the room.

  “Wait for me!” I hurried to catch up. We were in a hall filled with statues of the Gods. Eerily familiar, as it was a room such as this where the Gods had first tested me and I had been granted power. This time, however, there was a terrible difference.

  Each statue had been defaced, including the central statue of Ord. Written in dark, red letters was the word ‘FALSE’ written upon each statue. I stared in shock, but then to my horror from three of the statues emerged a glowing, eldritch spirit wrapped in chains. More monks. Each one baring the scars of torment and pain.

  Tormented Brother of Qas

  Level: 15

  Tormented Brother of Cel

  Level: 15

  Tormented Brother of Mir

  Level: 15

  Lore: The Abbey of Twilight was a place for all faiths to come together to debate the word and the will of the Gods until darkness fell upon the Abbey from within. Now, the Council of Twilight who served directly under the Abbot have been bound with eldritch magic to bar entry into the Scriptorium.

  Advanced Lore: In their final months of tenure upon the Council, each member began to suspect another of heresy. Each Council member carries an item that would gain them an advantage against the one they suspected of heresies.

  “What in Ord’s name does that mean? This Abbey truly did succumb to madness!”

  “What are you blabbering about, mortal? Look out!”

  The Brother of Qas swung a hammer at my head and I just barely activated Blessing of Angelus in time. A deep ringing sound filled the air and the spirit, attached to Qas’ statue by a chain, fell back stunned. The Brother of Cel launched a bolt of energy that managed to push me back, but my shield held. I saw the Brother of Mir preparing a spell as well, but I acted first with a Minor Cube of Confusion. Thankfully, the spell worked upon the Undead as well and the spirit was mesmerized, but the Brother of Qas wasn’t finished and attacked again with is hammer.

  “Duck!”

  I reacted instantly to Octave’s cry and ducked down even as a golden arrow buried itself in the Brother of Qas’ eye.

  “Octave! Use Sunburst!”

  There was a bright flash of light even as I shut my own eyes. When I opened them, tiny lights were dancing before my eyes despite my last second reaction. The Tormented Brothers were blinded. The Brother of Mir hadn’t yet been allowed to take action and I had no intention of letting him. I darted forward and tried to lay a hand upon his robe, but my limb passed through his body! Vow of Contagion was only effective upon the living, so I cast Lesser Shadow Leech and was rewarded a moment later as I saw damage ticking away with surplus health returned to me, but my hand felt as if I had plunged it into a snow bank and I drew it back with a hiss of pain.

  Octave’s arrows found their mark in the Brother of Cel, but the spirit managed to loose a bolt of energy at the Cherub. With a cry of pain, Octave was blown back by the force of the blow, but the Brother of Cel was also sent reeling as the Minor Sanctified Ward I had cast upon Octave reflected back a percentage of the damage. I cast Greater Heal upon the Cherub and then cast Minor Mana Tap upon the Brother of Cel. I was finding my pace. I was witnessing the impact of the synergies between my spells. We were winning!

  The Brother of Mir fell first, a combination of Lesser Shadow Leech and Congruency Darts reducing it to ash. Octave finished off the Brother of Qas and shortly after the both of us cleaned up the Brother of Cel. Thanks to that spirit, my Mana was nearly full as my Mana tap had done its job well and the Shadow Leech had likewise taken care of my health.

  You have looted [1] Scroll of Shadow Binding

  You have looted [1] Scroll of Enfeeblement

  You have looted [1] Scroll of Stone Swords

  I grinned and turned to Octave.

  “You know what? I think that we just might…”

  There was a groan and a rattling of spectral chains three more spirits emerged from statues!

  Tormented Brother of Wik

  Level: 15

  Tormented Brother of Sul

  Level: 15

  Tormented Brother of Tek

  Level: 15

  I sighed as Octave shot me a dirty look.

  “Never underestimate Dungeons, mortal!”

  “Wik, take it,” I swore as I prepared for another round.