Chương 96: Chapter 93: [Breaking] In

Braum knelt in reverence before the statue of Celestara. No matter whose temple one passed through, it was wise to be respectful to its deity. Though Braum was devoted to Helena, these were Celestara's lands and he would give her the respect she was owed. Clark waited patiently for the [Paladin], seemingly very patient with their customs, and only after Braum rose to his feet did he approach the penitent man.

"My thanks," Braum said. Too many younger people these days did not give the gods their due, and it was nice to see one hold onto the barest level of manners. But then again, Braum was from a different time, having grown up during the Age of Upheaval.

"Are you ready to talk to the survivors?" Clark asked. Braum nodded and gave a wry chuckle.

"A funny way to describe somebody who's died."

"True," Clark admitted.

"But they came back."

"And I'm glad they do," Braum sighed.

"I'm glad they do." As Clark had said, the people who'd snuck into the dungeon died. The original scout team didn't know what had happened to them until word from the abbey reached them that the respawn chamber had suddenly been activated. It hadn't seen any use for nearly a hundred years, but fortunately, the brothers and sisters of the abbey kept it in good repair. It was stocked with simple, plain clothes and soft cushions, perfect for a body that was naked as the day it was born.

But trading permanent death for a moment of nakedness was a trade most people would make any day of the week. So instead of heading toward the mountain where the new dungeon spawned, Clark led Braum into the abbey itself, where he was stunned by a pristine chapel with a beautiful carving of the Goddess of Light. It was a simple chapel, compared to the grand monasteries and temples to some other gods, but perhaps it was all the better for it. Clark stopped a passing brother and arranged for an escort.

They were touchy places, respawn chambers, where people were at their most vulnerable. There were usually guards posted at the doors of any active chambers, because even if there was a deeply seeded respect bordering on fear for the miracle of resurrection, not every person in the world was sane or reasonable. As Braum expected, there were two [Monks] patiently waiting in an unmarked hall, and the only reason he suspected this was the door to the chamber was because both the men were rank 5.

A worthy level to watch over somebody with [Resurrection Sickness]. The two guards seemed familiar with Clark, nodding to him as they drew near, and Clark quietly explained the purpose of their visit. The men gave Braum a critical look, but they must have known they were no match for him at rank 10, as they bowed without saying anything and let them pass. It was not Braum's first time inside one of these chambers, but every time he entered one, through any means, it took his breath away.

Despite being an abbey dedicated to Celestara, there was an aura of Chaos about the room. Her power permeated the walls, leaving Braum pensive. It was a small room with a window overlooking a small garden, letting in natural light, a small bed pushed against one of the walls, and two old armchairs. In the middle, of course, was the marble slab of the respawn stone itself.

Nobody was lying on the slab, which made sense since a person who recently respawned would be moved to the bed at their earliest convenience, but that didn't mean the room was unoccupied. Sometimes, days or even weeks after coming back to life, patients would make their way back to these rooms simply to… linger. Braum had experienced the phenomenon himself twice, and even he could not explain it.

It was like the soul was guiding a person back to where it was anchored, and it would only let them leave when it was ready. Different people healed at different times, with some getting up and walking out the door the very same day they returned to life. Others… might not ever fully recover. There was a human man and woman sitting in the chairs, silently taking in the surroundings, and Braum wondered what type they might be.

"Good morning," Clark said pleasantly, standing at a respectable distance. The man turned to face him and nodded, but said nothing. The woman didn't even seem to register their presence; she was lost in her own little world. If it was rude or unexpected, Clark didn't seem to think so, or at the very least he wasn't bothered. He turned to Braum and bent to the side slightly so he could whisper in Braum's ear.

"They've been like this since we found them," Clark said in a hushed tone.

"The man is Remmy LeFluer, [Duelist]. We don't know the woman's name; the system only tells us she is a [Spellblade]." Braum instinctively cast [Inspect], and sure enough, he was only given the woman's class and level. That was slightly problematic all on its own. Either she had reason to not want her name known to the world at large, and so the system obliged her… or she had given up on life and didn't feel she had any value left. As if her body, her being… her name weren't worth preserving.

Braum had seen this too: people who were poorly prepared to face a challenge far above them risked much and lost more. But that was their misconception: a person's greatest treasure was their life, not their gear or goods. Braum nodded to himself.

"If you would be so kind," he whispered back to Clark, "Would you mind bringing in an extra seat? This could take a while." Clark retreated to talk to the [Monks] at the door and see about securing a couple of extra chairs. Meanwhile, Braum had no intention of pestering the two patients with an inquiry. It would be nice to hear their first account of the new dungeon, but they were broken people first and foremost, and they needed healing. He didn't launch into an interrogation; in fact, he didn't say anything.

He reached into his inventory, pulled out a [Harp] and began to gently pluck at the strings. He heard the man take a deep breath, as if standing on a mountaintop, breathing in fresh, clean air, and that was good. Braum began to hum an old hymn, taught to him by followers of Helena long ago, but he didn't bother singing. It was a song of praise fit for the dwarven tongue and it didn't translate very well into common, but right now, there wasn't a need for words.

Clark soon returned, and an hour passed as the four sat and basked in the gentle melody of tinkling plucked strings.

"I couldn't tell you the last time I was in a church," the man said at length during a lull in the music.

"But if I'd heard someone play back then as you did just now, perhaps I would have stayed."

"Or perhaps, the wisdom of age has brought clarity to the ways of youth," Braum replied. Sensing the man was finally ready to talk, Braum set his harp aside. He folded his hands in his lap and waited patiently for Remmy to continue. The [Duelist]'s gaze lingered on the open window and the garden outside, but eventually he turned to face his guests.

"You're a member of the [Breakers], aren't you?" He asked.

"The ones we were supposed to wait for."

"Yes," Braum didn't try to deny it…just as he did not bother to correct the [Duelist].

"We were fools," Remmy said, casting his head down.

"Lad," Braum said kindly but sternly.

"Let it go. I speak from experience in this; I know exactly what you're going through. It's good to think back on your mistakes, to make sure you don't repeat them, but never let yourself drown in them. That way lies darkness, down a treacherous road."

"Do we ever recover?" Remmy asked. Braum gave him a knowing look.

"The answer to that's more complicated than I'd like. Yes, for some. For others…." Everyone's eyes fell on the [Spellblade], whose eyes were open but empty.

"I don't even know her name," Remmy said.

"I'd never met her before that day. The same went for everyone. There were four of us…and each of us had something to hide. Maybe it was because we snuck into the dungeon against orders. For the other two, I know it went much deeper."

"And they are…?" Braum asked.

"A [Rogue] and a [Profiteer]," Clark leaned in.

"They recovered fast. The [Monks] on guard told us they slipped out in the middle of the night, the same day they'd respawned."

"That's dangerous," Braum muttered.

"They had to have still been under the effects of [Resurrection Sickness]."

"Either that or they were afraid we might kill them again to make it more permanent," Remmy said darkly.

"Not that we could have," he added with a scoff. He waved one hand down the front of his simple white gown and pointed the other at his companion.

"We lost everything. [Spellblade] never really woke up. She eats and breathes, but otherwise lets the sisters do whatever they need to do to keep her clean."

"Everything?" Braum asked.

"I take it you didn't have any [Soulbound] gear?"

"I've run dungeons before," Remmy shook his head, "But never got that lucky in loot." Once again he snorted.

"Not that my luck has changed. I think my adventuring days are behind me."

"You're still young," Braum tried to soothe the man, though it had little effect.

"Give it some time to reconsider. Or," he added brightly, "Perhaps it's time to pick up a craft. You never know until you try." Remmy gave a weak chuckle and shook his head.

"Right. Well, Mr. [Breaker], I'm guessing you didn't come here to play the harp and make small talk. You want to know about the dungeon, don't you?"

"Whatever you're willing to share, yes."

"Right," Remmy nodded, his eyes growing sharp.

"First, whatever you do, don't anger the hands."

"Hands?" Braum asked.

"The main monster in the dungeon hub. It's called the [Obsidian Mansion], and it's a raid. I suppose we didn't get very far inside it, even if we did spend several hours there. It's [Nightmare] difficult, and truthfully, every moment spent inside felt like a nightmare to me."

"So…these hands," Braum said, pulling out a very old notebook and a well-used quill with a pot of ink.

"What are they? Do you mean servants? Some sort of hired hand??

"No," Remmy chuckled and shook his head.

"I said hands and I meant hands." He raised his own two hands and wiggled his fingers in exhibition.

"As if you cut off a human's hands and made ghosts out of them. [Spectral Ushers], some were called. If I had to guess…they might be undead."" Undead …," Braum muttered as he scratched out some notes.

"And you say all the monsters were these…hands?"

"The few we saw, yes," Remmy replied.

"Though in the lobby, there were only a few."

"Now, you say lobby. You also said the dungeon is called a [Mansion]. Is this also literal? Is the theme set inside a mansion? Or did the entrance appear inside one?"

"Both," Remmy said.

"It appeared inside the old abandoned mansion in the hills…which turns out, isn't so abandoned after all. A servant of the owner met us there, though she did not try to evict us from the premises."

"That wasn't mentioned in the report," Braum frowned.

"I take it the guild conveniently left that out."

"It's a brand new dungeon," Remmy shrugged.

"It belongs to no one…no matter whose house it may have spawned in."

"All the same," Braum said, "I'd like to seek out this owner. At the very least, we should introduce ourselves before trespassing on their private grounds. Clark, do we know anything about who they might be?"

"We're working on it," Clark shook his head.

"All we know is that they employ a [Retainer], which itself is rather telling. I saw the woman myself, and her level is above mine. Whoever they are, they aren't inconsequential."

"Indeed," Braum made a few more notes. He turned back to Remmy and brushed the edge of his ear with his quill.

"So you say it's both. A mansion inside and out. Does the entrance portal lead to a foyer?"

"No," Remmy sat up and furrowed his brows.

"The dungeon starts in a cave. A short cave, barely more than an elbow turn, but then it opens up to a theater lobby."

"A…theater?" Braum asked.

"Yes," Remmy nodded.

"Have you ever been to the Horizon Opera?"

"Indeed, I have been fortunate to attend on numerous occasions," Braum smiled. He was thinking of the last time he took the missus, and she fell asleep halfway through the performance. He might not look like it, but he was a cultured fellow.

"Consider their antechamber," Remmy said.

"The ticket booths, the lobby, the parlors…the concessions." The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"Yes," Braum said.

"I can see them."

"Then multiply that by a hundred." Braum's eyes widened. The Horizon Opera House was not a small building. The humans built it at the height of their opulence, and it could compete with any dwarven structure when it came time to boast of grandeur and size.

"That is…quite large."

"Yes," Remmy agreed.

"Which makes it all the more eerie. It's well lit, the floor is carpeted richly, and there's elaborate lighting on the walls and hanging from the ceilings. One would expect to be entering the greatest showroom of all time. But it makes you let your guard down, especially with the lack of any hostile monsters. Every moment, I expected to be attacked…but again, that could have simply been because of my chosen companions at the time."

"Odd," Braum nodded.

"There are few cases where a dungeon will design a room without a purpose. I have cleared many dungeons, and more often than not, each and every little detail is placed by design. I wonder why the room would be so large?"

"Perhaps to set the tone for the play itself?" Remmy mused.

"Play?" Braum asked.

"Do you mean to say that it reminded you of an opera house in more ways than one?"

"I mean it literally," Remmy shook his head.

"When I say lobby, I mean lobby. Same with concession. We did not work up the courage to approach the monsters behind the counter, but there is a booth with prepared food."

"Interesting," Braum took more notes. As a rule, the [Breakers] were very thorough. To break a dungeon, they needed to search every last inch, delving into cracks and corners, discovering the most insignificant of secrets and bringing them to light. If the dungeon sold food…then food was in his future. That was novel. He'd entered dungeons that supplied delvers with trinkets and items, but never consumable goods. He wondered how they might taste.

"So you say…there's a play?"

"To tell you the truth, I'm not sure," Remmy said sadly.

"That's where everything started to go wrong."

"How so?" Braum asked gently. This was the point where a survivor could easily break down. Remmy shuddered, but he was strong.

"The gloves give you tickets," he said wryly.

"That's how you're supposed to enter the main auditorium. At least…if you get your tickets the normal way."

"Did you…not?"

"We were a party of [Rogues] and scoundrels," Remmy barked out a laugh.

"What do you think?"

"[Pickpocket]?" Braum ventured. Remmy nodded.

"Got it in one."

"I'm surprised the monster didn't turn hostile," Braum noted.

"As were we," Remmy agreed.

"And, in truth, it might have. It did not attack us directly, but gave us backstage passes. We never made it to the auditorium floor."

"Are we certain they give out any other tickets?" Braum asked.

"Yes," Remmy said with a sigh.

"We weren't the first people to discover the dungeon, you know. A young, low-ranked party did. They said they sat through the introduction to a play."

"Oho," Braum mused. He liked the sound of that. Chaos, for all her violence, was an incredible storyteller. What would one of hers look like if she put on an actual play?

"When we finally made our way to the doors," Remmy continued, "We were denied entrance. We were shown to the worker's entrance, the door backstage. It was…vastly different to the opulence out front. Old, dusty, dirty…filled with cobwebs. Still no common packs of mobs. We climbed a set of stairs and found ourselves in a dressing room, where we encountered a boss." Remmy paused; his eyes took on a glassy look, but he mastered himself.

"It did not end well. In fact, it's laughable how quickly we fell."

"Was the boss that strong?" Braum asked. He wondered what a nightmare boss might be like to face. He'd never heard of nightmare difficulty before.

"I don't know," Remmy shrugged. Braum raised an eyebrow and Remmy let out a deprecating laugh.

"We never even got a hit in on it. He summoned some underlings… and I got strangled. By a coat." Remmy started shaking and Braum knew his time here was done. The man was holding strong on the outside, but he was clearly still recovering. Braum didn't want to make the man's condition any worse, so he thanked him for his time and left a few gold for his troubles. He pressed two coins into the [Spellblade]'s hand… and it tightened around them. She did not react outside of that. Still, that was an improvement.

On the way out, he made sure to inform the [Monks] of his gift and double-checked that they would put the coins in a secure location until the woman was coherent enough to store them in her inventory. Two gold would go a long way to make somebody's life comfortable, but for a decently high-ranked adventurer, it wouldn't do anything to restore the equipment that they lost.

There was a high chance that, even if Remmy and the [Spellblade] recovered fully, they'd never make it back to the same heights they were at before they died. That was, of course, all depending on what they actually lost, and if they lost it all, as Remmy had said.

Leaving the abbey, it was time to make the trek up the mountain and see the mansion with Braum's own eyes. He wouldn't enter it today, and probably not even tomorrow, but very soon. There were a lot of logistics in preparing to scout a dungeon for the first time. Younger, less seasoned adventurers might scoff at all the troublesome logistics, but Braum knew better. For every party of 5 to enter the dungeon, there was at least a dozen support staff. Sometimes more.

He had brought the entire [Breaker] guild, all 150 of them, and only 47 members met his standards to be "raid ready." The rest were either young and in training, which were very few, or else dedicated to other pursuits.

"So here we are," Clark said as the advanced [Breaker] party rode on borrowed horses to the edge of a forest at the foot of the local mountains. On the way, they'd passed the most magnificent [Greenhouse] Braum had ever seen, and a strange sign that claimed to be warning off a dragon's lair, but looking past it, all Braum could see was an empty field. Later, when he had time as they waited for the dungeon's weekly cooldown, he would explore.

But for now, he had 25 people looking to him to be a leader, so a leader, he would be. It was little more than a large game trail, something like the rams back home would make as they wandered up the mountains. The silly beasts, Braum chuckled. Why they loved to climb such steep hills when they sometimes fell off was beyond him. This, however, lacked the snow of Deepholme, and the packed dirt blended smoothly into the rocky boulders tumbled at the bottom of the cliff.

"We need to climb this," Clark said, which was understandable. A deserted mansion on the top of a mountain wouldn't be found at the bottom of one. But instead of leading his horse to the foot of the path, he handed its reins to one of the brothers that had accompanied them.

"Time to go on foot," Clark said, amused as Braum struggled slightly to dismount his horse. Just because he was short didn't mean he couldn't ride…but a human horse was a different monster than a dwarven ram.

"Mounts don't seem to be able to come up the path."

"Oh?" Braum asked. For curiosity's sake, he tried nudging his horse further. The moment the horse reached the foot of a path, it was like crossing some invisible threshold. It wouldn't go further. Interesting. That meant delivering the rest of their supplies would take longer and require more hands. Not a problem, but it would complicate things. The climb itself was also strange, winding around and switching back on itself as it snaked higher.

Everyone in this first group was perfectly suited for the task, as robust individuals with high Strength, even the non-combatants. It took the better part of two hours to reach the top, and Braum instantly understood why no mount would climb with them.

"Is this the home of a lich?" Angus asked shrewdly. His empty voice was colder than the frozen fire in his pupils. Braum could not fault his long-time friend for being bitter or wary right at the start. Liches and undeath were a bit of a sore spot for any [Death Knight] looking to retain their Humanity.

"No," Clark said seriously.

"We've been told it's the home of a dragon."

"A dragon?" Rook Ravenblood, their [Rogue], snapped.

"Monster or sapient? Hostile?"

"Sapient, we believe, though we haven't met them yet," Clark said. Braum made another note; all the more reason to ask permission and not anger the owner.

"Are yeh sure we should be waltzin' right in tha place?" Evra asked. Despite living amongst other races for over a century, her mastery of common was lacking.

"Walkin' in tha fron' door o' a dragon's den is like walkin' down their throat."

"Well, that's why we're sticking to a specific path," Clark chuckled.

"We had an escort last time, and we've been granted passage to the ballroom."

"Wha' kind o' dungeon sets up in a dragon's ballroom?" Evra mumbled, earning a few chuckles from the rest.

"A very bizarre one, so I've been told," Clark smiled.

"Though, I suppose now that the [Breakers] are here, you'll be the ones telling me." Indeed they would. They entered the ominous doors of the once-grand estate, and it was clearly fit for the grandness and splendor of a dragon. They passed forlorn halls that beckoned back to bygone days, and Braum could practically hear the whispers of ancient deeds, both magnificent and frightening. It didn't take them long to reach the ballroom… and what a room it was.

Braum estimated that an entire dwarven estate could fit inside this single room. A modest one, yes, but the fact remained. He gave himself several moments to appreciate the clearly Chaos-touched location, feeling her presence sunk into the bricks and stones, before taking in everything else.

"Ah, you're back." A tall human with a massive lance approached and Braum had to fight down a scowl. He was familiar with Sable Lane, as one of the human's more famous adventurers. It was one of the few downsides to taking this job. Braum would have to interact with him.

"Mr. Lane," Braum decided to offer the olive branch, as it were, and stuck out his hand. He didn't miss the look of disgust that flashed over the oily human's face, but the [Dragoon] shook his hand anyway…if only to keep up appearances. As such, Braum didn't feel too bad about what he was about to do.

"Is this what you call a forward camp?" Braum asked sharply when Sable made no effort to reciprocate any pleasantries. If the man wanted to get straight to business, Braum was happy to oblige.

"What's the guild payin' yeh for?" Sable's smile slid off his face, but Braum was unrelenting.

"Yeh got three separate camps. Yer all spread out. Nobody's guardin' tha portal!" Braum looked around the room as a dozen or so mid-ranked individuals melted out of the scenery and looked ready to storm over to him. Well, tough tits. The [Breakers] were here now and it was time to slap things into shape.

"And what would you have us do?" Sable asked through clenched teeth. Braum nodded firmly. He was glad he asked.

"Did you only bring scouts?"

"As a scouting party?" Sable sneered. Braum shook his head. He walked away from the [Dragoon] and stood at attention. He took a deep breath, counted to 5, and clapped his hands. Loudly. Everybody in the ballroom jumped, even his party members who expected it. Suddenly, he had over 40 pairs of eyes focused on him.

"Listen up!" He called to the room at large.

"I want to thank each and every one of you for your contributions to this expedition. No matter how small, no matter how seemingly insignificant… they all matter. We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for the work every single person puts in, and we wouldn't stand a chance at clearing the dungeon without it." Strictly speaking, not true. But Braum didn't need to point out that his team could easily do the work everyone else had done, but their time was simply more valuable.

That never went over well, and as an added benefit, some of the people in the room who'd been glaring daggers at him were now relaxed. And… it was also safe to say, maybe not to the people who'd wasted the last few weeks of their lives camping out in a ballroom, but to those closest to him, it really was a load off the backs of his support.

"Since you've done all this work, you have a right to know who we are and what we're about to do. We are the [Breakers]. And breaking dungeons is what we do." As he spoke, the members of his original team came forth. He pointed to each of them as they came. First was an ashen-skinned deep dwarf. The woman's eyes were blood-red and her silver-braided hair was tossed over her shoulder, tied with a heavy knot.

"Evra Grimwhither. [Warlock]. If you see a tiny green imp prancing around, don't attack it. On the chance you manage to hurt it, you're in for a world of pranks and misery. It has a long memory and doesn't like to be re-summoned." Evra nodded and thumped her large, spiked staff on the ground. Next was a pale dwarf… and not because he didn't spend much time out in the sun. His skin was almost pure white because it didn't have the same flow of blood a normal mortal had…

just as the pupils in his eyes were living flames.

"Angus Lichbane. [Death Knight]. Yes, the name says it all. He's killed more undead than you'll ever count, including the lich that made him. Don't ask what his name was before. That life's more dead than he currently is." Angus let out a hearty laugh, and his hollow voice sent goosebumps up everybody's skin. Third was the final dwarf of the party, a rugged man whose black hair and beard covered nearly every inch of his face.

"Rook Ravenblood. [Rogue]. Do not confuse a basic class for weakness. That's a quick way to end up with multiple daggers in your back. And trust me… you'll never see them coming." Rook took a dagger, balanced the point on his finger, and vanished. He heard a few gasps, as some of the people present probably thought they could see through [Stealth], but he was a specialist. He wouldn't be caught that easily. He reappeared on Braum's other side, picking his teeth with the dagger for show.

The last to join him was the only non-dwarf on the team, and probably the highest level wolfkin Braum knew.

"Warren Montgomery. [Druid]. His bark is worse than his bite." Warren rolled his eyes but made a show of shifting into his healing-tree form. He let out a few green pulses of energy and the room instantly felt more alive. A few tiny seeds that had been discarded by birds on the broken ceiling cracked open and began to sprout. Warren turned back into a man and played the straight man in the act.

"Puns will get you killed," he said in his fallen-aristocrat accent. Of all Braum's teammates, strangely, Warren could be the hardest to understand. Now that the main introductions were out of the way, Braum started introducing the support. There were multiple teams dedicated to very specialized tasks, and some of the advanced scouts wondered if they were truly necessary.

"Do you really need 20 people to wait around for 5 of you to delve the dungeon?" Someone asked. Braum gave them a pitying look.

"This is a brand new dungeon," he said seriously.

"Nobody knows what to expect. The last crew that slipped in…perished. There is a very real chance we will too." His team (and his people, too) were unfazed, but several of the scouts looked concerned.

"We need to find out everything," Braum said, even as some of his people began pulling out tents and items from storage.

"Sometimes, even if we know it's a bad decision. Better that we make mistakes and pay for it rather than someone who can't afford it." He pointed toward a [Mage] who was busy pulling trunk after trunk after trunk out of his inventory, placing them all in nice, neat little lines.

"Word to the wise. If you think there's a chance you won't be coming back, get a [Luggage Mage]. Don't want to take your entire inventory into a dungeon just to lose it." The other four members of his team were already approaching their designated boxes and transferring their goods. Braum turned to where two [Priests] of vastly different orders were setting up small shrines.

"Don't disparage people for their faith. Believe what you believe, and let others do the same. Make your peace before you enter a dungeon. Don't look down on people for weakness of the flesh. Flesh is what makes us Human." Finally, Braum pointed to several people busy setting up a working, complicated kitchen, and smirked.

"And lastly, get prepared to be here for a long, long time…and make yourself comfortable while you wait. Nobody wants to dive a dungeon on dry biscuits and stale water." He could see some of the members who clearly hadn't packed anything other than travel rations start to salivate. He shook his head, not his problem.

"Now, if you excuse me, I have a dungeon to break."