Lost in the Sea Caves

[Isoyami]

My thanks to Purazon for dusting off some of Sylent One's old stories, and reminding me of an old level story I wrote long ago as a tribute to her.

[Isoyami]

Lost in the Sea Caves

The young level thirteen initiate ran up the crest of a beach dune, his glittering blue scale boots crunching in the sand. His legs were long and lean under the coarse homespun clothes he wore, his new leather breastplate smooth and dull brown in contrast with the blue cloth. He was quite tall, over six foot four inches, and he had an elegantly built frame that moved with smooth grace despite his youth, in the early prime of his life. Deep blue eyes were fixed on his goal down the dune, long fingers brushed a stray strand of dark brown hair out of his eyes and over his tall forehead, his breath coming in quick gasps as he ran without pause, his ragged and torn bear hide cloak fluttering in the salt sea breeze behind him. He let his momentum carry him down the crest of the dune without breaking his stride, his feet found their balance easily on the shifting sand slope. The sun was high and burning hot overhead, it was a beautiful if sweltering summer day. The shining sunlight beat down on his glittering scale helm of sea foam green, as well as the battered and dinged shield on his left arm and the keen head of his lance, the bobbing point of the sharp metal keeping time with his strides.

Thirteen slid shot a quick glace skyward as he hit the bottom of the slope and ran towards the sound of the ocean crashing on the beach, he was late with a meeting with two of his closest friends. He muttered softly as the mentally calculated the angle of the sun, if he hadn’t been cornered by those two sand beetles on the ridge of the last dune he could have been on time. The beetles were more a nuisance then a hazard to him now, though their large pincers could still gouge a chunk out of his arm if he wasn’t careful.

After what seemed endless marcs of running but was in reality only a few breathless moments, he finally reached the beach estuary. The cool surf gently lapped at the beach as it rose and fell as if the ocean was a peacefully slumbering creature, breathing calmly and steadily. Young thirteen took a moment to inhale in the crisp, stinging salt air and let the sounds of the gulls and the waves wash over him. He loved the ocean, it soothed his soul like a healing balm and calmed his nerves frayed from too many fights with the loathsome rotting poultry. Stifling a snort at the memory, the initiate turned up the estuary and walked the short distance along the coral formation to where the ground opened up in a cavernous, gaping cave that looked ready to swallow him whole.

Outside that cave his two friends were waiting for him. Thirteen broke into a wide grin as he jogged the last distance, his breathing still fast and ragged from running hard. “What took you so long?” rumbled his fellow initiate, a level 14 who sought to become a warrior. Fourteen was slightly shorter at an even six feet, though he was more stoutly built with powerful arms and a broad barrel chest. He was covered from head to boot in glittering scale armor, that he had recently stripped from the corpse of a sea dweller guardian and it was his most prized possession. Fourteen’s light green eyes seemed to glitter like emeralds as he met his friend’s blue ones. “Sorry, I was held up by those bloody beetles… nothing to worry about.” Thirteen grinned back, his tone light and playful. “Bah, that’s your problem, you take too long to stop and admire the wildlife, brother.” Fourteen shot back as he clapped a beefy hand on his friend’s shoulder, sending the younger adventurer reeling.

“Are you two going to stand there all day?” Their third companion questioned.
Even though she was shorter and slimmer of build then the two initiates, she still held their admiration and respect. She had just recently gone to the hidden Temple in the desert and completed the secret ceremony to attain her profession as a cleric, much to the chagrin of her two companions. The three of them had been training together since level eleven on the foul fowl of the farm, joking with each other about who would obtain their profession in the sacred Temple first. She had easily outraced them both; within her small frame beat a great and noble heart that drove her onwards to be the absolute best she could, though she still called herself a small one and bowed low to all she met, to the amusement of those who knew her. She shook her head, her snow white tresses dancing over her shoulders, a stray strand falling over her cheek as she grinned at them both. Her light eyes sparkled with mirth and warmth, and the sunlight played across her violet skin.

Her unusual appearance had raised young Thirteen’s eyebrows at first, but he was soon won over by her gentle warmth and caring demeanor, the Light that suffused her very essence and lit up her features with caring and concern for all around her. “It took you long enough, I was beginning to get worried…” Her soft voice lilted over to them, and thirteen acknowledged her words with a light smile and a chuckle. “Sorry to keep you waiting… Shall we go, my friends?”

His two companions nodded to his question and the three of them clasped hands in a quick gesture of unity before the Cleric again raised her eyes to the two initiates as they discussed the plan for the adventure ahead. The cleric was there to help Fourteen, the warrior-in-training, face the dreaded Lord of the sea caves… and since the two initiates always stuck together, Fourteen had asked Thirteen along, almost at the same time Thirteen had insisted on coming. After a few hastily scribbled notes between the three of them to arrange a meeting and a quick trip to the market to gather last minute supplies, the group had met at the mouth of the caves as promised.

A few final plans were agreed on and a last word of encouragement whispered, then the three of them turned as one to face the dark and deep unknown. The Cleric went first as she had already completed the quest once herself: in a smooth, graceful gliding motion, seeming weightless as she floated effortlessly to the mouth of the cave and dropped lightly inside, the darkness greedily devoured her small frame. Fourteen went next, moving in a powerful, no nonsense stride and then jumping boldly down, his eyes blazing. Closing his eyes and breathing a small prayer to quell his anxiety, Thirteen stepped forward to the lip of the cave and dropped.

In a moment the ground rushed up to meet his feet, and Thirteen found himself crouching on the smooth rock floor of the cave. The air was damp and dark, the curve stone roof just above their heads, within easy reach of Thirteen’s stretching fingers. Nodding once to each other, the three companions arranged themselves, with Thirteen moving up to the front of the pack, Fourteen and the Cleric shoulder to shoulder behind him. They had agreed that Thirteen would run point on the first part of the descent, both to reap the experience from battle and so Fourteen could save his strength for the harder fights below, with the Cleric in reserve in case anything went wrong.

[Isoyami]

The walls of the tunnel were made of dull coral, etched in swirling organic patterns that were rough to the touch, in contrast to the icy surface of the wet stone floor that was smooth as oiled glass. Thirteen ran ahead, catching an aquatic Lesser Sea Dweller by surprise, the creature dressed in scale armor and wielding a simple stone club. Thirteen charged, then dropped to the floor to slide along the slick rock, sliding with his long legs outstretched. The glittering scales of his boots met the glittering scales of the Dweller’s legs, the Dweller went down in a crumpled heap. Quickly scrambling to his feet, Thirteen readied his lance, choking up on the long ashen haft in the close quarters of the cave. Trading sideslip for thrust and dodge for swipe, the initiate and the merman danced and spun in the narrow hall, his companions cheering the adventurer on. A low feint and a high thrust brought a vital blow and the dweller fell defeated to the lifeless stone below. Thirteen didn’t even pause to strip the carcass or patch up his wounds, hurrying onwards. They were on a mission.

The Cleric knew the route, and guided them south, past the four way junction. Thirteen easily dispatched a second Dweller, to the appreciative whistles of Fourteen, while the Cleric only shook her head and laid soft hands on Thirteen’s arm to patch up a claw swipe that had gouged a chunk from his flesh. “Tis but a scratch…” Thirteen chuckled.

“If your feet were as nimble as your tongue, then you wouldn’t need my help….”
The Cleric smiled back. Thirteen only grinned and thanked her for her soft touch.

She instructed them to descend, and they did. The fun part was just beginning.

Thirteen was panting, cuts and scratches leaking crimson over the dull brown of his breastplate and glittering green of his accessories. The second level of the sea caves was a blasted maze, they had gotten lost even with the Cleric’s help. Fourteen sheepishly admitted a poor sense of direction, and Thirteen wasn’t much better. The Cleric had her small hands full keeping the group together, and keeping Thirteen healed from almost constant battles with the more powerful and more plentiful dwellers. Now Thirteen was at the limit of his fighting skill and needed almost constant healing after each battle. At least the Cleric had the foresight to bring plenty of potions, her hands were running hot with all the healing energy she was using.

After several marcs of hard fighting, and several wrong turns, they finally found the exit downwards to the next floor. Fourteen was visibly eager for his turn in the action, and Thirteen had gained a good chunk of experience battling the Dwellers.

Down on the third level, the tunnels around them were taller and broader, and coated in beautiful, shimmering colors with massive statues of the Sea People set in niches every so often. Here Thirteen was outmatched, falling back to let Fourteen charge into the fray, broadsword drawn to hack and slash with merciless precision. They changed the formation of the group, with Fourteen in front now, and Thirteen to act as rear guard with the Cleric in the middle. Thirteen now took the role of cheering on his friend, watching the battles with an eager eye, trying to anticipate the blows and watching some new techniques. This was also deeper than Thirteen had been down in the caves, and he gazed around himself in wonderment.

Things went smoothly at first, but then Thirteen got absorbed in trying to identify the rainbow patters that swirled through the tunnel walls, and he lost track of the other two for what felt like an instant. When he looked up they were gone! They had taken one of the corners further down the halls, and were lost to his line of sight.

Thirteen turned and hurried down the corridor. Where did they go? Turning a corner in the tunnel he heard a pair of footsteps up ahead. Running forward with a shout, Thirteen found himself in the open arms of a Sea Dweller Guardian. The Initiate skipped backwards desperately, just dodging a powerful trust from a trident that was about to skewer him like a foundering fish. Trading blows, Thirteen desperately tried to retreat away from the stronger beast. He was trapped.

Panting, bleeding, the young Initiate just managed to scramble for cover behind one of the massive statues lining the corridor, just out of the Guardian’s reach. But he was pinned down, the Guardian blocked any chance of his escape with a vicious leer and a bloody trident. The weapon had already opened a deep rent in the Initiate’s side, his crimson lifeblood slowly dripped down to stain the floor.

Thirteen shouted desperately for help, and was rewarded when he heard the small echos of the Cleric’s voice telling him to stay still, and that she and Fourteen had gone on ahead. Little did Thirteen know, but the Cleric’s wails had carried clean to her Guild hall and roused her Guild mates, who came charging to the rescue.

Thirteen was maneuvering around the statue, trying to keep out of the Guardian’s reach, when all of a sudden a brown blur forced the Guardian to stumble back. Suddenly a tall rogue sporting a rough vest and dashing bushy brown sideburns was in front of Thirteen, his rapier moving in lightening defensive thrusts so bewilderingly fast that the Guardian was outmatched, the Sea Dweller now at bay. Looking back with a wink, barely keeping one eye on the foe in front of him, the Rogue introduced himself and announced that he was from the Cleric’s guild. Help was on the way.

The Rogue gave Thirteen a clotting salve to stop the bleeding, which Thirteen quickly applied to his side, still keeping one eye on the Rogue and the merman. Apologizing that there was little else he could do to help, the Rogue slipped off as soon as other Guild members arrived. All was a blur of motion and life in that broad corridor as another Cleric and Enchanter pair came to place their blessings on the young Initiate and speed him on his way. With one last healing and a blessing for luck, the Initiate finally killed the Guardian that blocked his way, then hurried down the corridor to rejoin his friends.

Ahead of him the way was surprisingly clear; free of Dweller bodies but bore the footprints of several adventurers that had come and gone. One last Enchanter wished the Initiate well before hurrying on his way.

Thirteen could not find Fourteen and the small Cleric anywhere. One or twice as he hurried down the corridor his way was barred by a Guardian, but heaped full of spells Thirteen was an even match for them now. He managed to fight his way down to the last level, to the lair of the Sea Dweller Death Lord.

Thirteen gripped tightly on his lance, readying for a fight as he clambered down the crude stone steps. Instead, all he saw was the bloodied, cooling corpse of the great beast. Fourteen’s mission had been a success.

Thirteen didn’t know where to go now, so all he could do was press forward. Behind the dead Lord, another, smaller hallway led off into darkness. Thirteen was alone now, but the boost given to him by the spells had worn off. He was just an Initiate now. He didn’t know where his friends were, but he held on to the belief that they were alive and they had already escaped. Now it was his turn, and there was no way he would die down here, not when his friends had succeeded.

Panting. Pain. Thirteen was exhausted, bleeding, leaning on his lance like a crutch as he stumbled doggedly, fought doggedly. The Guardians, sensing his weakness, swarmed him. It was all he could do to battle them, he fought, retreated, gulped handfuls of potions and fought again. He was making progress, but it was going excruciatingly slow, his bloody footsteps crossed and crisscrossed the side tunnel over and over until he had lost all sense of time and distance. The wound on his side had been pierced again so it ran with fresh blood, Thirteen was getting woozy and lightheaded from the exertion, the strain was more then taking its toll on his young body.

But, he gritted his teeth and forced his arm to swing another blow, his feet to take another step through sheer willpower alone. The will to live, to escape and see his friends again burned as bright as any torch, stronger then the rent in his side, stronger then anything. Fourteen and the young Cleric would not have to go down there to recover his body, not if the Initiate had anything to say about it. So he fought on.

He fought until he was at the limits of his endurance and his potions. The world was starting to go dim but he forced himself onward, forced his lungs to keep breathing and his heart to keep beating. He stumbled, fell, picked himself up and stumbled again.
Finally, when he was about to give up, he reached a dead end. Here was a swirling vortex, and he jumped into it blindly. He recognized it from other portals he had seen, and he took it. He was safe.

Hitting the ground in the Inn hard, the Initiate fell with a cry of pain. Luckily the Inn was empty, so he rose on shaky legs. He was home free! But the gash in his side wept his lifeblood freely, without anymore potions his health was almost spent. Almost blind, almost collapsing with every step, Thirteen just managed to stumble forward, a cripple resting on his crutch. Outside the Inn, all his friends had gathered. The young Cleric’s soft voice was raised in a lament, bemoaning the young Initiate and her grief that she could not save him. Fourteen had a beefy hand on her shoulder, comforting her, though he bowed his head and said his prayers silently under his breath. The rest of the Cleric’s Guildmates likewise stood clustered around her, offering comfort, until the creaking of the Inn door made everyone look up.

Thirteen was as pale as a ghost, but he managed a smile, crashing his own funeral there outside the Inn. With a cry of joy, the young Cleric hugged herself to Thirteen, her small hands and her Holy Ring immediately patching up his spent body, he gave a small sigh of relief as he felt strong again, his brush with death only a memory. Fourteen and the rest of the Guildmates crowed around to clap Thirteen on the back, against the odds, he had survived. And that was victory enough for one day.