Green Hell (Quest - Deathseeker)

[Mad Maggie]

It had been about a week since I'd embarassed the locals at their hick obstacle course, and using the clout that little stunt had earned me, gained entry into the University itself. The same type of stratification presented itself here, with hunters, adventurers, and students mingling as they went about their business. I ingratiated myself with the chemistry department, but soon found their imaginations to be limited and dry. None were practitioners of the theory of perfection, or had much to say on anything unique to Kraw.

I found what I was looking for in the Native Xenology department. Here were scientista made of more sturdy stuff, required for wrestling live specimens onto exam tables. One day I was able to observe an autopsy of a large reptilian winged creature, the long beak lined with razor teeth for gripping prey as it smashed through the treeline. The xenologists were all bursting with excitement as the thing was deconstructed bit by bit, until by the end of it I had a very neat copy of their initial reports on the anatomy and phenotype of the reptile bird, or "struthy" as it was dubbed.

After a few more days of being a presence in their endeavors, I waited until what was deemed a venemous creature was brought in, and requeated special access to the team due to my vast biochemical background. I was easily welcomed and then proceeded to gather samples of the creature's venom for my own work.

I was able to find an unused room and set up a small mobile lab using the supplies from my ATV and the community supply store to replenish my personal stock of Nox Gas and repair my containment rig. Days began to slide by as I continued working with the Xenology department, studying the poisonous fauna, and studying the various venoms and toxins of this living world. But of course, all of this research and preparation was only in service of finding an expedition into the jungles to co-opt.

There was a power, deep in the jungle, and one I intended to claim as a prospective student and acolyte of Death.

 

[Mad Maggie]

The University's library had proven a treasure trove of forgotten and common knowledge, and i'd spent most of my time learning about where i'd been so unceremoniously dumped. The spacetime anomaly had apparently shifted me to a region of space known as The Crossroads, a loose collection of planets that were encased by a gravitational anomaly that disallowed any travel beyond the system. So, I was essentially marooned here. No matter. That only made my primary objective of establishing a laboratory even more essential. However...that would take influence, and resources. Not to mention power.

Power like that spoken of in scraps and fragments of legends. Throughout the planets of the Crossroads, there were scant few cultural rumors. Each planet held secrets worth unlocking, untold power and wealth, etcetera etcetera. Common themes in tribal and early civilization legends. One particular tale stuck out to me, however. And it was even local to the planet I was on, a wild world of danger and mystery known as Kraw. The hunters said that Kraw was alive in more ways than one, which I am given to believing. The vibrancy of the flora and fauna here is undeniable, for sure, and the very concept of a living planet implied it's opposite. Things to consider.

A story told in multiple parts over several dusty tomes, it laid out the legend of a lost city deep in the jungles. Of course, Kraw was riddled with lost cities and ruins, but what made this one special was it's rumored continuance. Long ago, the legend told of a traveling shaman who had sought shelter in the kingdom - the name of which was lost to time - and been denied. So incensed at this rudeness that he cast a spell upon the entire town, enthralling it's residents as his utter slaves. The shaman stayed, ruling the town as he saw fit for years and years. His dark magic had preserved his victims in a state of living death, injury or sickness ignored as the inhabitants guarded their eternal ruler.

The power over Death intrigued me the most. I'm not ashamed to admit my thanatophilia, and while I myself have experienced the strange and enticing touch of what the layman would deem "magic", that cursed simulacrum refuses to elaborate on the nature of his Death Totem. Ha. I almost wish he could be here to see me claim a great power than his and use it to gather my influence.

Perhaps even turn this supposed shaman king's magic against them, and plunder the lost city for even more riches. The legends did tell of each expedition to the city falling and rising as undead guardians. A whole town filled with ancient weapons and secrets. Oh yes...this would be a long term operation. However....first I would need to gather an expedition. One man alone could hardly survive out in the jungles, and traveling on a vehicle was impossible. Any roads would be broken and cracked, and the noise of an engine would attract predators large enough to swallow the vehicle and rider whole.

No, it was time to use the favor i'd curried with the xenobiology department, and quietly steer their efforts towards this lost city instead.

 

[Mad Maggie]

The xenobiology team was packed up by the time I arrived from the hostel, wiping sleep from my eyes and blearily sipping from a paper cup of recaf. Heavy sweetener, heavy milkfat for that early morning boost before navigating through a living jungle.

"Morning, Dr Caustic!"

I grunted noncomittally as I passed Researcher Barnes, an overly cheerful girl with blonde pigtails. She reminded me of Ms. Paquette, but with a tenth of the potential. Her junior partner, Stevens was typing away at a dataslate and checking the expedition's supplies. Stevens had given me a wide berth as soon as i'd arrived, something I appreciated. He knew that my presence here was far beyond simple academic interest, and I notated with a thrill that he'd taken to carrying a sidearm. That would be an interesting variable, although Stevens seemed relatively composed for a research student.

The final two members of our expedition were Doctor Ames and Professor Alkan, a husband and wife couple who's enthusiasm for the unknown was as encouraging as their disgusting public displays of affection were sickening. Both of them were half-elves, having spent a couple years on Kraw and a few minor journeys out to collect samples. However, i'd chosen the xenobiology team for one reason. No one on this expedition had been on one of such caliber before.

Which would make it easier to judtify any unfortunate accidents or sacrifices in the name of progress.

I'd had a series of maps and charts drawn up, and using some ingeniously subtle extrapolation, had managed to track a migrating herd of Prowlers to the area of the rumored dead village. I was both thrilled and intrigued by the fact that one of Kraw's native deadly fauna was a species I was more than familiar with. The Apex Games frequently released prowlers during matches, and the Shadow World we'd journeyed into had been full of them.

"You know, they taste like chicken." I informed the rest of the group, feeling secure in having knowledge no one else was privy to. Stevens blinked impassively, and then turned back away, while Alkan laughed paternally, even though he was ten years my junior. "Remind me to pack my barbecue kit, then! We'll tag a few and see if there's any prime specimens to bring back."

The Prowlers were technically the largest species anyone from Xenobiology had hunted before, Kraw's environment not favoring many medium sized prey animals. Most of their research had been into various invertebraes, arachnids, and crustaceans that skittered under the eye of the large predators and were easy to contain. Luckily, my familiarity with the quarry was deemed sufficient enough to serve as expedition security.

This was a position typically subcontracted out to the cabal of hunters, mercenaries, and assassins; most scientific types not being the most adept at combat. I'm sure they considered themselves lucky that a fellow academic was also so blood-soaked, to turn a phrase.

When we journeyed out into the deep woods beyond the city walls, it was into a dark green hell that most would not return from.

I had other plans.

 

[Mad Maggie]

Thankfully I was used to traveling long distances while laden with equipment, my own chemical storage harness weighing nearly 40 pounds while fully loaded. This, plus a large pack containing a tent, rations, water, medical supplies, and an emergency restock of my mobile lab. Unfortunately, I couldn't bring the triwheel vehicle with us. Kraw's terrain did include numerous spiderwebbing footpaths, but scarcely any of them were wide enough for large scale transport. The other, more obvious reason was that the noise of an engine would attract large predators. Large enough to swallow said vehicle, I was told by a grim faced Dr Ames. She'd apparently lost a student who believed he could tame Kraw with a 4x4.

I held my tongue at that, and continued to do so as we set out past the gates and onto the first leg of our journey. This would be relatively safe, as the site for first camp was a placid pond that had been mapped a year or so ago. I had wondered why the research team hadn't bothered to take more precautions not to be heard, only to have my question answered as the gates of New Abraxas faded from sight, swallowed by room sized leaves swishing back into place as we passed through the new growth.

It was raucous. Insects buzzing, trees creaking, scuffles in the dirt. Anything that could even remotely be considered prey was small and fast, and even those fed upon the palm sized jeweled beetles crawling across the tree trunks. In the distance, screeches of predatory avians and jungle beasts echoed underfoot like a constant warning. It was enough to aloow normal conversation to fade into the noise of life in here.

Several hours of hiking later, and we'd reached the night's camp before things got too dark. The jungles were still thin enough to see through for a fair distance, and the deep wilds were still ahead of us. Safe enough for a campfire. And merriment.

Alkan produced a stringed instrument and played while his wife sang some tripe about the woods of home or something. I excused myself to secure the camp perimeter, something I did with gusto by placing gas traps in an equidistant coverage pattern. Anything breaking our perimeter would catch a face full of blinding noxious gas, slowing it enough for me to react and warn the rest of the camp. I was the most heavily armed, none of the others having anything approaching an automatic rifle.

Barnes had a rusty old Makarov, while Stevens favored a sharp, wide bladed knife and a handheld electrical stunner. Amos and Alkan, being half elves, were equipped with bow and arrows. I was not ashamed to openly scoff at their seeming less than lethalness, before Amos pointed at a bright orange caterpillar on a branch that matched the paste she smeared her arrows with. "Paralytic toxin." She explained in her musical lilt. I nodded appreciably. "Perhaps later you could show me how to extract the venom." I offered in lieu of apology.

She flinched at the harshness of my voice and nodded in agreement. My damaged lungs seemed to perturb them whenever they caused me to cough or wheeze, as if the very ideal of less than perfect health disturbed them. Hah. Elves.

 

[Mad Maggie]

I was beginning to realize that aside from my compatriots in the Apex Games, I had never been in the presence of civilians for this long before. It was apparently starting to grate, as well. My best efforts to be polite, academic-to-academic, had finally evened out to a reputation for being terse and standoffish. Which was a better reputation than others I've had to shed, of course.

In any case, that sullen fool Stevens was starting to suspect that I wasn't quite enthusiastic about the actual objective of the mission. He'd even called me out at one of our morning meetings, saying that I had no idea where I was going. The student had apparently noticed that the supposed signs of the Prowler herd were more circumstantial than based on any ability to track. I had been able to dissemble by admitting that perhaps my curiosity was a too forward, and the partnered doctors had been on my side. Barnes, however, was enamored with Stevens disaffected attitude and was more than happy to distrust "creepy old Doctor Caustic". I'd begun lulling myself to sleep by imagining the look in their eyes when they beheld our actual objective.

The hours began to zoom by, time spent hiking through ruins or jungle, hiding from passing predators, detouring around crevasses or marshes that would swallow us whole...it all began to blend together. The first point of genuine activity occurred late in the evening as we approached the top of a mossy plateau overlooking a deep valley. Ames was the one who spotted them, her lithe form curled in the crook of a tree branch as she scanned the valley with a one handed viewerscope. "Doctor." She said amicably, amending her statement. "- Caustic, that is. What did you say Prowlers looked like again?"

I was busy refilling my containment unit from inflated gas traps that I had laid out the night before. My skills had been instrumental in keeping us safe during the night, as the warning beep and hiss of a trap activating at the camp's perimeter alerting the watch had saved us from ambush by gundarks or zeppras more than once. Recycling the gas was only an attempt at conserving resources, as it had begun to deintegrate over time. Fortunately, I had been able to harvest the condensate in small vials for later use and experimentation.

"They're typically red, with a pale white underbelly and legs. Feline-adjacent heads, with long tails and a red carapace atop their backs. They're usually about two meters long fully grown." Ames held up a finger excitedly and I grunted unpleasantly at being cut off. "Keep your voices down and come to the edge of the cliff." The party set down what they were doing and slowly moved to the edge of the plateau, peering into the deep valley as light filtered away through the leaves. "Look."

An entire herd. About 2 kilometers away. I could see the moving shapes, their edges blurred by lack of light, but there was no mistaking the gait and the red-white color. They were descending from the trees, waking up after a day of slumber. Prowlers were not typically nocturnal, but the unique biosphere and food chain of Kraw must have forced them to develop this behavior as a survival tactic. I shared this hypothesis with the group, and four notebooks came out all at once. I sensed my next hour would be taken up with an explanation of whatever I knew about prowlers as well as observing the herd before they dispersed to hunt.

We'd posted extra guards that night as a precaution, due to the proximity of the herd. As I retreated to my tent, I could see Stevens and Barnes having a surreptitious conversation, followed by repeated glances my way. That boy was becoming a problem, and my palms began to itch in the way they did when I dropped onto the arena and there was a weapon laden supply bin right in front of me. Ready for the slaughter.

Best to restrain that impulse until a more exploitable opportunity presented itself.

 

[Mad Maggie]

"Be cautious." I warned, treading lightly across the scattering of broken branches, bones, meaty detritus, and scrub that coated this section of trees. Directly underneath the Prowler's nesting grounds for the night. The two elven doctors could see fine in the gloom of night, but I, Barnes, and Stevens were left with handheld microlights, which we kept off. I myself had a personal advantage, a small ultrared spectrum floodlight that would illuminate the darkness in a threatening shade of crimson. The light wavelength was invisible to prowlers, making it perfect for stalking night time environments amid a pack of hunters. Which was -also- a very familiar situation.

I kept a light eye on the perimeter while the researchers took samples of everything they could find. My thoughts turned back to that entire insufferable mess on the Alternate Solace ruled by that universe's Revenant. Scrambling through ruins and buildings, fighting off entire packs of prowlers all to recover some waste of time's idea of a happy ending. The simulacrum had disappeared after we'd reattached it's head, although what more boiled my blood was Revenant's meek desire for his own end. Failing to eliminate Miss Andrade for her personal nosery was just another of the murderbot's failings, but giving her his greatest weakness and idly waiting for her to use it was utter folly. Hmmph.

I noticed Barnes with an excited look on her face hurrying behind one of the larger trees. The silly girl was unkempt and more than a bit frazzled from the week of travel it had taken, but seeing a new species and the goal of the journey (so she thought) had given her some entuusiasm back. It was....gratifying, in a small manner to recognize the spark of ambition in knowledge, even in such a vapid individual as Junior Researcher Barnes.

...Whose stupidity extended not just to her demeanor but her decisions. She'd discovered a nest. An active nest. A Prowler cub mewed pitifully as she held it up by the scruff of the neck, its paws flailing at the air. She waved over to Ames and Alkan, and as they turned to look, I saw the mother lurking above them in the branches.

"DOCTOR!" I shouted a strained warning, and Barnes froze as multiple things happened in succession. She dropped the Prowler cub in shock as the larger parent dropped out of the tree onto it's hind legs, crouching, coiled to leap forward again in defense of it's young. There was no way I was going to fire my weapon. The noise would bring the rest of the pack screaming back in blind fury at their nest being disturbed.

As the Prowler leapt towards Barnes, claws outstretched, Doctor Alkan bounded off a rock and tackled the thing bodily. Where he found the speed to react so swiftly, I can only guess at the idiosyncrasies on unknown species. As heroic as the gesture was, it was also incredibly foolish. The Prowler easily threw him to the ground, raking his chest open in a bloody spray of gore and organs, Doctor Ames letting out a pained cry of despair as her mate was killed in an instant.

Blood spread through the air and I finally acted, the ever lurking Stevens hustling Barnes's sobbing form into the brush. "Quick! Back to camp!" He shouted, disappearing into the darkness while I mentally decided that the charade was about to end. The Prowler crouched over it's cub, licking it protectively as I advanced, pistol held low in a threatening stance. Blood had been spilled. This entire acre would soon be teeming with starving beasts and worse, making our previous camp nothing but a deathtrap. Of course, Stevens wouldn't know this, and Doctor Ames was far too busy futilely trying to save her mate with weak pulses of green light and more practical first aid. It was no use, his head lolling from a broken neck and the dull emptiness of a corpse in his eyes.

I had my own more pressing issue to deal with, and the practical application of experience aided me greatly. Watching the Prowler's rear for the tell tale shake of its tailbase, I threw a wild haymaker into the weak parts of its mandible as it leapt towards me, lifting it slightly with the force of my blow and knocking it end over end.

Following its roll before it could recover, I dropped my knees hard on the beast's neck and chest, putting my full weight on it while it was in an awkward position. Keeping clear of the wildly slicing talons, I punched the stunned beast hard in the head, once, twice, three times. Flesh sizzled as the beast moaned weakly, chemical residue adding agony to the Prowler's death. It was still alive, still dangerous. I kept hitting it until my fist was damp and sticky with coppery-green blood, and I felt something tugging on my arm.

Turning back, I looked into the tear stained face of Doctor Ames as she tried to pull me off the dead Prowler. "Stop! Stop, that's enough! It's dead! By the Great Spirit.." She stalked angrily away as I got up, her palms over her face for a moment as she looked hard at the body of Doctor Alkan lying supine at the base of a tree. "It was a threat. It killed your partner." I stated coolly. "I find it distasteful to leave threats undealt with."

She turned on me, her bow and arrows out with one notched and pointed at my head. "You're not a doctor." She hissed, anger and venom in her voice as she stepped back towards her husband. "You're not here to research...you led us right into this pack of animals and then stood by and watched my mate die!"

I scoffed. "Your junior researcher disturbed a juvenile Prowler, an apex predator in my sector of the universe. That sort of stupidity should have solved itself long ago. It's only your student you have to blame."

The words had the intended effect, which was that she fired the bow at me and I dove to the side, returning fire with my Wingman unsuccessfully.

"You spent this whole time pretending to be a researcher...a man of science! What you did to that animal was...." She paused, audibly swallowing back nausea at the mere thought of the bloody mess beneath my fist. "You're not a doctor. ..you're a monster."

I called back, retreating towards base camp to hastily grab my supplies. It seemed the charade had gone on long enough. "I won't be the only one, soon enough."

Nearly sprinting now.

"Find your peace with nature and your mate - nature is certainly about to find you!"

A thunderous roar shook the branches around me as if on cue.

 

[Mad Maggie]

My boots squelched into the disturbed earth as I sprinted through the trees towards the plateau we'd made camp on. It was raised above the valley where we'd noticed the Prowler herd the evening before, and my dim red floodlight was casting just enough light to prevent my embarassing demise by tree root or pitfall.

If I could get back to camp and take whatever supplies were left, I would be able to make it to the hidden city within a day. The legends had said the city was located somewhere near the valley, but there had been no sign of ruins indicating that level of development for days now. The plateau loomed above me, darkness making it seem like it reached up into the infinite sky even as I could see indistinct shapes starting to gather at the base of the switchback trail back up to camp.

A shrill scream split the night, and I heard a man's voice yell out in pain before it was silenced. Pausing, I crouched low and listened intently, only for my hearing to be overtaken by the sound of beasts fighting and snarling dozens of yards back. Most likely over the corpse of Doctor Alkan, if his wife hadn't tried to drag it away. The screams could only be Barnes and Stevens, running afoul of the native wildlife. Damn.

I couldn't take the chance that they'd already made it to camp and stuffed their pockets with the suppliers I needed. Even if they were dead, the animals would shred anything useful. "Blasted necessity." I groaned, checking my Wingman and advancing cautiously towards where I'd heard the sound. My path was bringing me around the wide circumference of the plateau, and I was beginning to notice idiosyncrasies in the rock as I advanced closer to the source of a new sound, a heavy shuffling and dragging.

The mountainside began to weave in and out in intricate curves, the rock bearing no signs of being mechanically worked but an unnatural shiny black color. Was it basalt? Igneous rock? Perhaps the plateau had been a volca-....

"No." I mumbled, rounding a corner and staring at a wide arch tucked into one of the curves, the entryway obscured with thick leafy jungle plants; or rather, it had been, before something had snapped the stalks off with it's passage. A muddy trail led into the dark mountain, and as I cautiously strode forward down the hallway, the spiralling designs carved into the walls made me feel dizzy as bile rose in my throat.


Thought became slow and sluggish, and I realized that I couldn't drag my eyes away from the spiral patterns on the walls. The hallway extended ahead of me for what seemed like indistinguishable meters, and a faint scraping sound began to get louder as I heard the wind blow through the entrance arch.

How else does a civilization survive? Military might, conquest, yes....but another method was staying hidden. In the dense jungle. Beneath what surely must have been a mountain a geological age ago.

The thrill of realizing that what i'd been searching for had literally been underneath me while I slept shook the mind affecting effect the walls had on me. Just in time, as two figures slowly approached from down the hallway. The missing student researchers, disheveled and with ripped clothing, slowly walked into the dim red of my floodlight. "Researchers...." I said cautiously, keeping my hand clenched around my pistol. They looked at me blankly, their eyes empty and moist. Dead. But still moving. Their lips opened, cracked and dry, the voice of both the cheery Barnes and the sullen Stevens blending together into a cacophonic screech.

"YOUHAVEENTEREDYOUWILLSTAYYOUHAVEENTEREDYOUWILLSTAYYOUHAVE-"

BLAM

BLAM

Two shots blew each of their heads off, their limp bodies falling backwards into each other in one final embrace as I reloaded and tucked my sidearm back into my belt, letting out a contemptuous snort. "Please. I don't scare that easily."

I stepped over the bodies, finding it unfortunate that I'd been unable to properly punish Stevens for his insolence. And as I'd find out later, the two youths had gotten off relatively lucky dying so early on.

 

[Mad Maggie]

The hallway was widening with each step I took. The intricate carvings on the wall were no longer a cognitohazard now that I knew not to focus on them, but the effect of the millions of lines and channels in black obsidian made traversing the hallway in red light a psychedelic experience. Even my footfalls made no noise, as if I were spacewalking. Only the reassuring hiss of my respirator's release valve broke the silence, and I had suspicions that the silence was also some sort of hazardous trap.

Then, a whiff of a smell that should have been intimately familiar to one so enamored with Death as myself. However, my artistry required living and healthy bodies. If decay set in before I was able to experiment, then something had gone horribly wrong. This was a unique type of rot, though. The dust of ages masked the sickly sweetness of it, the scent like some abandoned syrup factory set to ruin.

Finally, there was an end to this hallway. A tattered purple curtain hung limply across a doorway, and I approached it warily. Pulling the curtain aside, I saw the faded paint of something blocking the way forward. The back of something, painted in intricate swirls and imagery. I pushed forward with my strength, and it gave way surprisingly easily, toppling forward and clattering as books scattered across a sandstone floor.

I was in a library. Small, dusty, eerie green light emanating from lamps on the wall, one lone stone plinth serving as a seat in the corner. As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I clicked my light off and heard the shuffle of paper. Whirling to face behind me, I saw a brown, dried husk of a corpse seated against the plinth. In its lap was a book....and the dead hand holding it suddenly turned the page. It's eyeless skull tilted to the side as it's jaw hung open. Broken and moving uselessly as it turned the pages and "read" silently through disintegrating mandibles.

Horror was a feeling I was long past, and the only sensation that rose in my chest was scientific inquiry. The motive corpse seemed nonhostile, and I spied the only other exit from the library across the room as a closed door. Tossing a gas trap at the entryway to ensure I wouldn't be disturbed, I approached the shuffling, seated husk. "Hoi."

No response. "You're not even aware you're dead, are you?" I mused, waving a hand in front of the being's face. Upon closer inspection, the thing's legs had withered into useless twigs. That explained why it hadn't gotten up when I entered, at least. Clearly some sort of 'magic' was involved. Disappointing.

Since arriving in the Crossroads, i'd learned magic was 1. Real and 2. Unquantifiable. The most frustrating type of variable, dotted across planets here and there. However....the true goal of this expedition had been to claim a portion of the wild aether, harness it to my own ends and understand it. The mad wizard-king of Ahkatunan had become a legend in the libraries of New Abraxas and I had been the first to find his city. Or rather, the first to find it and return.

I stared at the corpse another moment, then removed the book from it's hands. It continued to gesture in the air as it "read", and I put my fist through it's crumbling skull. The thing finally shuddered one last time and crumbled into nothing but bones and dirt. A teal vapor rose from the corpse, floating through the room towards the lightlamps on the walls.

Thinking and reacting with years of scientific instinct, I removed one of the glass vials from my belt and collected a sample before the final wisps diaappeared into the lamp. Intriguing.

Turning back to collect my trap, I pushed the door open, unsure of what I would find. Whatever it was, it was sure to be as intriguing as what I'd just witnessed.

 

[Mad Maggie]

Dust rose from my footfalls as I exited the library into a huge cavern, black stone arcing upwards towards a large, circular gem set into the ceiling. It cast a faint, ethereal light over the entirety of the cavern's ample space and I stood at the entrance to the library that I'd entered through. I could only guess as to where the true entrance was, hazarding that I'd made use of some poor fool's escape tunnel in reverse.

Before me was a city; well, more along the lines of a small town. Humanity's propensity to overestimate strikes again, as I was almost certain that the large skull in King's Canyon would barely fit inside the hollowed mountain. Still...it was more than clear as to where I would find my quarry. The streets were uniformly laid out, cut stone forming low, one story buildings that had been perfectly preserved. Cloth and banners hung limply from ancient wood, the lack of weather and exposure allowing things to decay at an astoundingly slow pace. Even the inhabitants, I noted.

The library was situated across the cavern from a large ziggurat, the black stone of the entryway used here in it's construction as well. The gem set into the ceiling was focused here, and the teal light grew stronger the closer it got to the top of the temple. Below me, the streets and buildings of the town were not quiet as the grave, but still more quiet than a city should be. The cadaver I'd encountered and what I'd read about the place made me certain I could handle myself. Even if the shambling dead didn't breathe, they were still made of flesh. And flesh dissolves in my Nox Gas, ancient dusty flesh hypothetically even more so. I made sure all of my traps were hanging from my waist, my grenade secure on my chest. Weapons checked out, and I reloaded the Wingman while scanning the layout of the paths.

Which were occupied, somewhat. Brown, emaciated figures shuffled around in a silent mockery of the hustle and bustle of a normal society. A wooden cart laid with piles of dust that might have once been wares was parked on the side, three or four of the corpses standing stupidly around it as if they're forgotten something on the way home. All around the cavern, there were similar scenes of the undead stupidly repeating motions from their lives. as I descended down the staircase, I noticed one of the buildings was closer than the rest. A wooden window creaked open, and a grinning skull limply waggled a length of cloth out the window as if beating the dust out of it.

HUP

My boot kicked the thing's head into bone fragments as I grabbed the top of the window, the ragged stonework making excellent hand and footholds as I climbed up the ancient dwelling. There was a maze of these buildings from here to the ziggurat, and my honed senses and years of experience told me that in the streets is where I would find the remains of all the other expeditions. It would be impossible to fight back against so many bodies in a narrow alleyway; while that was a tried and true strategy facing living, thinking opponents, the mindless masses of the dead would quite literally bury me eventually. I am no simple, slouching scientist. I am a Legend, and I have climbed across far worse to achieve nothing more than victory. And what a sweet victory this achievement would be....

Running and skidding across the various flat stone roofs was beginning to attract attention, but it was little more than head turns and vague steps toward the buildings I'd landed on. I suspected that these unfortunate mundanes were nothing less than dummies, and required the influence of their king to do much more than shamble at me ineffectually. There was no doubt that once I entered the ziggurat they would come in by the dozens to defend their master, so I decided to be proactive about that. I would mine the entryway to it, and be granted more than enough warning before being mobbed. Surely an ancient fool of a madman would be less of a challenge than a custom built assassin droid, a man mountain wielding a shield, or an overly friendly robot.

Finally arriving at the small square before the temple, I took a moment to pause and catch my breath. Kneeling, robed bones were stuck in rigid prayer up towards the stone pyramid, barely managing to shudder as I kicked them aside and began to climb up the stairs towards the top. The teal light of the ceiling gem was reflecting off of swirls of eldritch mist beginning to rise around my boots. I paid it no mind and kept climbing, throwing a gas trap behind me every fifteen steps or so. Staggering them with a large burst at the top would be the best tactic.

Finally, I reached the top of the temple and was greeted with a plain and simple arch. However, around the entryway were glowing runes, looking out of place next to the rest of the 'city's' architecture. I couldn't see beyond the threshold even though the light from the gem was bright enough to illuminate the upper chamber's inside. Pausing the set the rest of my traps, I stepped through the glowing archway and-

FZZTTTT

 

[Mad Maggie]

"Welcome, my boy, welcome.
I'm Dr. Humbert, but you won't be seeing much of me. You're on the junior research team, nothing too exciting. We're really pushing the envelope in agricultural pesticides, you see, the Colonies need food and unfortunately the stuff we have just can't compete with these little alien bugs! So, as the forerunners of chemical research and production on Earth, we here at Humbert Labs truly believe that the future of humanity is in every sample we create! Just a little hokey optimism, I know, but I'm sure you'll find a family here, my boy. Do hurry along now, you don't want to be late for your first day!
Welcome aboard, Assistant Nox."
~~~~~~~~

The woman was huddled in a corner, crying to herself. He's standing behind the doorframe, listening. She showed such potential, this woman. He had no doubt that if given the right motivation and guidance, she would surely far surpass him one day. His boots scuffed the doorframe as he walked in, and the blond girl looked up in fright, stifling a gasp. Her eyes were wide and fearful, no doubt all of the rumors and talk the other Legends had filled her head with coming to the forefront of her mind. She must have thought he was there to kill her after some perceived slight. Maybe he resented someone so young being his equal. All of these thoughts raced through Natalie Paquette's head, until the silent hulk placed a yellow glove on her shoulder. He felt her tense up, her breathing shallow. And then the glove came back up, and down again. Pat, pat. She looked up at the reflective visor he was wearing as he took it off, and in his hard, small eyes she saw the smallest, tiniest glimmer of a soul left. "I am....sorry about your father, Miss Paquette. I offer my condolences."

~~~~~~~~

fwip fwip
fwip
"Down!" He shouted, shoving Anita aside. "I am being fired upon!" The soldier slides behind a barricade and twists a metal cylinder, tossing it to the ground at their feet. It explodes into a thick cloud of obscuring smoke, and the three of them pull backwards. "Fencing!" She cries out in a joyous tone, the blonde deploying a glowing barrier of light. Covering more space between them and the approaching foes, they paused for a moment on the high ground. He surveys the scene, readying his own cylinder. A cruel smile spreads underneath his mask that she doesn't see. All she sees is the tactical mind at work, the variables appearing above his head as he calculates wind drift and particle combination with the soldier's own smoke. "Breathe it in!" He declares, throwing the grenade just as the enemy pursuers decide to brave the obscuring clouds. Poison mixes with chaff, the confusion causing two of the other squad to pass through the powered fences and drop to the ground. The final enemy was silenced with a bullet to the temple, and he turns to reloading and preparing to continue onwards. "That was inspiring work, Dr. Caustic!" The soldier raises an eyebrow, her protective instincts ready to shield the newbie from the doctor's wrath. He was known to be terse, if polite, but his wrath went beyond simple anger at how deeply he could cut with words alone. And the girl had just lost her father. Instead, Bangalore's jaw dropped as the grumpy fuck did a mock bow. "I thank you. Wonderful teamwork, Miss Paquette."

~~~~~~~~

"I know you're there, simulacrum."
It was the drop in air pressure that alerted him to his room's door being opened, the assassin droid making absolutely no sound entering. He turned around to see the blank, almost curious face less than a foot from him. A light on it's throat brightened, and a silky, synthesized voice purred out. "Doctor. Such a lovely place you have here. Mine is more like a coffin." It gestured to the personal bunks that each Legend was given to spend their off time in during a season. "What do you want." He stated in response, narrowing his eyes behind his goggles. The revenant chuckled. "I've just been making the rounds. Getting to know the competition." It raised a hand, and with a faint click the hand became a pointed blade. "Seeing which weeds to prune." The scientist didn't flinch, which made the droid make a sound almost like a dismissive grunt. "Didn't figure you scared easy. Now, the giiirrlll...." Caustic takes a sudden step forward towards the assassin. "If you touch a hair on her head, I will dismantle you piece by piece. One who has touched death so often would be a joy to dissect." Revenant steps back and begins to pace in the small room. Prowl, even. "Out of all the rest of them, I figured you would see things my way. We're similar, you know. Except you chose your life. I didn't." The droid spits, human rage translated almost perfectly.
"Get to the point, synth." Caustic retorts just as venomously. "As if I didn't already know what you were after."
Revenant stops pacing. "Just tell me what they're doing. Loba is up to something, and I want to know what. That's it."
A mutual goal. This would be beneficial to both of them. He doesn't take long to stick out his hand. "You have a deal."

~~~~~~~~~

GET OUT OF MY MIND GET OUT GET OUT

~~~~~~~~~

"Hraaaaaagggggghh!" I screamed, clawing at the air and trying to take a step forward. My eyes take in the scene before me, a moderately sized room at the top of the temple. In the center, seated upon a large blackstone throne set with numerous glowing emerald and turquoise jewels, is a ragged thing. Ancient and almost looking as if it was made of wood, dressed in rotten and faded clothing. A large corroded golden headdress matches the bronze circlets and plates that it wears in a strange sort of robe. The corpse hasn't moved in centuries, the flesh near the edges of it's limbs looking like it had melted into the stone from the prolonged contact. "You!" I spit at the thing, the pinpricks of yellow light feebly shining from inside a half hollowed skulls fixed right on me.

The teal light washes over me, emanating from the many gems on the throne. There was no doubt, this was Akatunan the Mad himself. And I was being held back by the sheer power of his magic. And even that wasn't enough, considering I had managed to take a step towards the throne.

I WAS NOT FINISHED.

My world inverts once more and we return to my past.

 

[Mad Maggie]

"The results aren't promising, Mister Caustic. Then again, we don't really have the best equipment on Sola-" He cuts her off with a sharp motion of his hand. "No. I....I understand. You're only one of a long line of second opinions." The nurse taps a few more keys on her keyboard. "Let's get you back in a month for another biopsy and see if the treatment is working, okay? I can..." Her words fade away as he ignores the spiel and steps away from the counter, returning to the dirty rainy streets. In a back alley clinic, he knows his fate for certain. In a way it was poetic, and he was not angry or sad. Just...detached. clinical. As he'd always been. All it meant is that he had a deadline for his work now, and failing it's completion he would have to do whatever he could to ensure that the drive for improvement, the spark that burned humanity to push at the unknown to it's betterment survived in another. Miss Paquette was the one, he was sure now. He'd had ideas but now with this....expiration date, he made certain. She would have to be guided and taught and kept from negative influences. Like the pretentious crusader and his stupid robotic drone. He'd seen the eyes they made at each other. Natalie would have to learn that a scientist put the greater good above their own personal needs.

~~~~~~~~

THE TRUE PURPOSE IS REVEALED. YOU JOURNEYED HERE FOR THE SAME SECRETS AS I.

I pull against the invisible forces holding my limbs back. Another step. Two more towards the throne. "Secrets you squander, insect. Sitting here upon a throne, frozen in time. What a waste....I can do so much more with what you rot on like a ragged cushion, instead of wielding like a sword!" My eyes sting, and I can hear the faint beeping of the first of my traps go off as the shambling legions of dusty feet begin the long trek up the temple steps. I'm able to lower my arm to my holster very slowly, effort causing a vein to pulse on my temple. I can hear my blood in my ears. Feel the cancer killing me by inches....even though it should have done its job for months now.

A dusty rattle comes from the corpse itself, the withered flesh twitching in a mockery of laughter and I hear the voice in my head once more.

YOU ARE MORE DEAD THAN ALIVE. JUST LIKE I. JUST LIKE US. THIS IS WHERE YOU BELONG.

This isn't a clear memory, it's a flood. Rushing sights and sounds, gas hissing, screams, blood, gunfire, pain, noise, coughs, seizing. All of them dead, dying, wounded. Fear in their eyes as I stare at the faces of death and take notes.

"Pagh! Are you trying to seriously make me question myself?" These memories hold no weight. Nothing matters of my past, especially when I'm so far from what I already had accomplished. I needed to start over, here, in the Crossroads. And that required escaping my inevitable, true death. And thus....

HOW DARE YOU. I WILL CONSUME YOUR SOUL AND YOUR BODY WILL STAND GUARD OVER MY THRONE.

"You've seen my memories. Do you think you will fare any better?" And indeed, I could feel the power that burned at my body, holding me back, beginning to wane. The gems on the throne glowed and sputtered, the light flickering as magic fought science. My pistol was in my hand finally, and with tremendous effort I bring it up and aim dead down the sights. Not at the figure, but above it. At the stones.

BLAM
BLAM
BLAM

The Brockhaurd Manufacturing Wingman Heavy Pistol is a beast of a sidearm. It fires large caliber bullets in a non parabolic firing arc at distances of up to almost 100 yards. I myself have landed several such improbable shots, and as a distance of only 15 meters or so it was impossible to miss. "Technology has advanced in the thousands of years since you sat down." My words are punctuated by a cracking sound, the gems on the throne glowing brightly as shards and chunks fall to the ground in a spray of expensive dust. Immediately, I feel the energy on me withdraw and resume my approach to the throne. The corpse speaks in my head no longer, and I put a round through its shattered temple and blow what remains of its head to pruney globs.

As soon as I let out the breath I had been inadvertently been holding, a roaring screech blasts me forward against the far wall. Winds whip into the temple chamber, and as I shake off the impact I hear the throne crumbling behind me. The emperor's corpse floats upward, infused with a rushing whirlwind of the teal smoke. I can see faces screaming in the winds, and bolts of energy crackle at the undead lich's shining gauntlets. Impressive.

Fear is a healthy reaction to such things.

As long as it's concurrent with action.

My body refused to move, heart feeling like it was being coated in ice as the shrieking spectre approached.

 

[Mad Maggie]

The shrieking tornado drew closer and closer, and I could feel the air getting sucked from my lungs. Starting to cough, I felt the spasms of pain begin to flit across my chest. Thinking quickly, I reach up and turn the nozzle that actually activates my respirator's function and the vacuum equalizes as my lungs stop spasming. I have to swallow the load of bloody mucus in favor of removing the mask to spit, but in combat situations one doesn't pay attention to the small things. The momentary spell of fear induced paralysis was broken, and I took out my R99 in preparation for the next few moments. The lich sent a crackling bolt of lightning at my position and I took off, sliding between the stone pillars of the throne room and firing back with bursts of light calibre fire. The rounds from my gun should have shredded such a dusty corpse, but only half the shots actually found their mark. The swirling vortex of blue souls was robbing the bullets of their impact.

YOU WILL STAAAAAAAAAY!!!!!!

The soulnado shrieks at me as I reorient myself and begin to make for the entryway. If I could draw it out of the enclosed space and get it to one of my traps...
As I come out of the archway and pause, I can already see a crowd of brown undead shuffling up the stairway. The bottom landing is already shrouded in a corrosive green mist, my deflating trap barrel evidence of it having done it's job. Indeed, I could see several nonmoving or twitching corpses on the ground, their limbs dissolved at key joints or too corroded to actually locomote anymore. Behind me, the spectre was making an awful racket, and I could taste the air as another bolt of energy was flung my way. I was trapped between two ends, and neither of them appealed to me.

Except I was a damn Legend, and I was a Legend for a reason. Rushing forward, I take three steps and jump off the top of the stairs, landing in a diving slide with my boots firmly out in front of me. My R99 blazes as I hipfire it at the seeming tides of bodies clustering the stairs. They fall and scatter before me, boots and bullets carving a path before my passage. I aim at my untriggered traps as well, and leave a thick trail of Nox Gas behind me to dissolve those that were still capable of posing a threat.

The smashing of stone and rushing of wind remind me of the other threat still on my heels. The lich floats out directly into a thick cloud of my gas and begins to follow my trail of destruction down the steps. It was either unaware or unaffected by the airborne clouds, but as I slid to a stop at the bottom of the stairs and shot my way to the base of a high tower I chanced a look back at it. The dead emperor's soul clouds had changed color slightly, and that set gears working in my heads. I chuckled to myself as I began to climb, electrical bolts lancing the spots I'd been or catching me in the torso, my chemical storage containment grounding the energy effectively. I would deeply enjoy saying that I knew everything and came prepared for the job at hand, but it was only sheer luck that the dead king's powers, so effective against explorers and mercenaries, would fizzle ineffectively at meeting their direct counter.

I hang by one arm and wing a few more shots at the pursuing corpse cloud with my R99. The bullets seem to finally hit their mark, the dark shape at the center of the cloud crumbling and mixing with the whipping vapors. Those same vapors, which were looking less teal and more yellow, almost as if-

I could have slapped myself, but instead continuing shimmying and climbing, the bolts of electricity continuing to explode inches from me. It was simple, really. However, I couldn't rely on my containment system to shield me any longer if I was going to execute the plan I had just come up with.

Reaching the top of the tower, I lean over the edge and unclip my final supply of gas. Firing one handed at the oncoming smoke monster, I toss the Nox Grenade and shout another taunt to incense my foe. "You claim to be Death? I have mass produced it!" The yellow and red canister tumbles end over end before blinking and releasing a thick, heavy cloud of it's customized payload, the one I had been experimenting with by mixing jungle venom and the gas condensate with. Perhaps the native ingredient would intensify the particle bonding effect I'd already noticed, and which was the cornerstone of my plan to defeat the mad king of Akatunan.

 

[Mad Maggie]

A piercing shriek echoed around the cavern as the gaseous phantom rose to my level like a storm. Gun at the ready, I snapped a fresh clip into place and unloaded as another bolt of energy hit the spot I had just been. Landing near the ledge, I chanced a look down towards the base of the building I'd climbed. The brown withered corpses that remained below had finally made it to our battle stage. However, their crippled limbs and dusty bodies wouldn't allow them to climb up and swarm me. Just as planned. Now it was only I and the necromancer's spectre in combat, although I would surely be at a disadvantage if the structural integrity of the domicile was compromised.

Which seemed to be the madman's aim, launching blast after blast of energy in my general vicinity with the intent of toppling the stones to the ground. Each successive bolt was going wider, however, and I seized my chance as the floating cloud of malevolence faltered for a moment, a bolt sparking within and then failing to manifest. I twisted a valve on my chemical storage rig, priming the vacuum pump that allowed me to siphon deadly gases from their storage containers without exposing myself. The internal motor clicks and begins cycling, as the hiss of air being purged from the thick tubing secured around my body pushes wisps of fog away from me. This would take a moment, so I keep a sharp eye on the king's approaching decrepit form. My last volley had utterly powdered the remaining chunks of undead corpse, and I conjectured that the very energy which had flashed downwards from the gem was, in essence, all that remained of the former king's very being.

All the footwork and repositioning had caused me to lose control of nearly half the rooftop, the swirling dark cloud of greenish-teal vapor curling around my legs and binding me to the spot. The soul ghost's powers were limited to whatever it could physically touch with it's vapor, now that the locus of its body had been powdered by age and my bullets. Taking a step back, I clutch at my chest and feel my muscles begin to freeze again with a chill settling to my bones.

FUTILE. FUTILE. FUTILE.

A ghostly visage coalesces out of the vapor inches from my face, My goggles and respirator thankfully protecting me from whatever unwholesome ideas the king had. I suspected he intended to possess me and make my robust body his own, to reign even longer until the next explorer could best him. Deep black pits floated in the mass of smoke and mist, and I could feel the cold satisfaction that came with grasping your prey and watching them die.

MINE. GIVE YOURSELF TO ME, AND WORSHIP AT THE FEET OF AKATUNAN.

I was feeling the same way.

The pressure dial swings downwards to indicate 29.92" Hg and the motor casing beeps to indicate such. Perfect Vacuum. I stare back at the spectre impassively as it attempts to breach the textured filter of my respirator, soul particles and corpse dust being filtered from the incoming rush of air. "I warned you about technology advancing." My voice sounds rough and raw from the extended effort, but my next words are for my own benefit as I twist open the quick release connection on my suit. "Breathe it in...." I hiss to myself, and the sudden disruption of the seal in my rig causes it to perform the function it was designed for.

A loud, hissing whoosh disrupts the gloomy lack of sound that spread from the necromancer shaman's vapor body as the thick clouds of Nox Gas infused air begin to flow steadily into my containment rig. I grasp the connection and open it wider, sucking the ghost into my suit with a determined grimace. The entire building shakes, and I can see the giant crystal embedded into the ceiling of the cavern flickering again, the light slowly going dim as more and more of the king is drawn into tight tubing. My carbon steel piping had a maximum stress rating of up to 25400 PSI, and I was near certain that any magic the king could work would require awareness at least. The crushing blackness of the pressure system inside my rig would not do, the heathen most likely believing he had finally been bested and killed for good.

A storm echoed around me until the last wisps of gas were collected into the piping, and I twist the seal closed once more, making sure to take the end cap out of my vest and screw it on tightly. Bottled ghost. Hah. My aim in coming here had been to understand and harness the inscrutable forces of "magic" and in a way, I had. To ensure the king's utter disconnect from the source of his power, I reload my Wingman with hands that only trembled slightly. From my illness, not fear or relief. Another succession of bullets flies towards a fairly large target, but it takes another two reloads before shards of glittering stone begin to fall from the ceiling in a very expensive hail of shard. As I look around the base of the damaged building, wondering how I would wade through the sea of corpses, I see the bodies going limp, and falling over. As they hit the ground, they become motes of dust, glittering golden sparks rising up and dissipating in the gloom of the eternal tomb.

A final gust of ethereal wind passes by me as I climb back down to street level, whispering in my ears a final message.

"You have freed us, but not because you wished to. Your thirst for power will kill you, Alexander Nox."

Ungrateful wretches.

 

[Mad Maggie]

Now that I wasn't being pursued by mad kings or mummified zombies, I took a moment to take in the dead city. This civilization had managed to live, even thrive, deep in the murderous jungle of Kraw by staying hidden in a nearly impregnable natural fortress. However, like a human body, all it took was a foreign agent, a virus, to enter and completely kill what had been. I thought on the irony of my immediate exploits, acting as an antibody to the original virus that had overtaken them.

The architecture was simple and brutal, with a pragmatic bent to the layout of roads and buildings. There were even gaps in the curb that leads to little trenches lining the walkways, a very rudimentary irrigation system. Wandering along, I managed to rediscover the large building I'd originally entered from. Whatever had served as the main entrance to the city had most likely been long blocked off or built over, most likely by the mad king in his attempt to stay isolated in his domain of death. My thoughts turn to the bodies I'd left in the jungle, and the certainty that no matter my excuses, there would be a lot of very upset people in New Abraxas if I returned without the scientists I'd left with, unscathed. In any case, I knew that being wanted in the only settlement on this Death World was not optimal to my continued research. There were sure to be treasures here I could bring back to one of the smaller camps outlying the city, and I would most likely be able to use those to barter the location of this tomb for other treasure hunters to burgle. After all, I'd taken care of the most pressing threat in the cavern.

My storage rig vibrated, very gently, as if something inside was attempting to break out. I pat the tubing, and resolve to buy an incredibly strong storage tank for the king's remains. After all, who was I to pass up the opportunity for such a rare specimen to study?

Quest: Deathseeker - COMPLETE: 10117/10000 Words