Bored
What appeared to be nothing more than a cave, up on a high ridge, was much more. What the naked eye couldn’t behold was in part due to the shade of the great cliff. The other excuse was the dangers that cliff faced: a coast with violent gales sweeping upwards and storming waves crashing down against the rocks.
With a clear but narrow path leading up to the entry of that cave, and gathering their wits about them with a single glance at the risk of taking that path, one would have thought with caution and not bothered to investigate the cliff’s mouth. But there were foolhardy adventurers that would throw that caution into the wind and beat the hardiest of foes just to experience the thrill.
And many such adventurers had indeed came and explored. By daytime, or in the middle of the night, these individuals or groups traveled to meet their next encounter in life, to test themselves against one obstacle after another, and saw the cave entrance as another interesting stepping stone towards glory -- and possibly untouched riches.
One never knew what laid in wait in the darkness. But shouldn’t that have been a hint? There had to be a reason behind why no one ever told tales of what was within that cave. In fact, if they had, all would know this was not a cave.
Had anyone managed to survive and gone further inside, they’d know this to be an entrance to an unexplored, and unconquered, dungeon.
Another point of why no one had ever defeated the first level of this dungeon was because no one could come upon the inhabitants within without first being seen. Throughout the cliff were cracks and fissures that offered the dwellers in the dark a peeping hole to spy upon the next challenging adventurers.
And, of course, await these doomed person and persons with an ambush or trap. One way or another, these waves of adventurers always failed to discover their folly before it was too late. To add onto the raised count of casualties, so too was the value rising to the hoarded treasures awaiting a victorious hero.
Honestly though, I was about ready to sprinkle some gold and jewels out onto the beach to attract someone other than these thrill seekers. After all, a man’s life is often worth a paltry amount in gold. With news of a confirmed treasure here, I would bet a King’s army would come sailing across the seas just to lay siege upon my home.
Ah, with a high moon above my cave, I could easily imagine the sight of countless ships anchoring along the coast, with men dropping from their seaborn vessels, the troops coming ashore to risk their lives climbing up the sheer cliff, and they all would have to travel in ones or twos with their valorous intent of slashing their way towards their prize. If they wanted to leave and spend the rest of their enriched days alive, they’d first have to kill me.
Unfortunately, no one ever came close to passing the first of my many challenges! I mean, that did make me happy. It meant that I did a damn good job in defending my home. But on the other hand, I was bored as Hell waiting for a snow day to go out and chill.
...Hey, even demons like to experience something new, like rolling in the snow or sledding down a hillside. For me, I just wanted something different to happen.
Someday, I wanted meet someone that could be my equal…
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In the sweet and savage onslaught of his sword’s keenly kissing the imps, in the fury of Rorik’s blade storm, he swept down to cut all of his opponents stances out from under them. Their legs were no more than limbs on the bloody rocks, the Hellions screaming with no more than stumps beneath their belts, and those with working legs fleeing from the barbaric intruder.
If it was difficult to aim at a man in order to kill him, all Sara had to do was remember these were not men but beasts who’ve ruined and stolen lives from all who had been here before her. With remarkably steady fingers, she tested her bow again before shooting --
-- and her elder brother barely dodged the woman’s shaft as it sped towards the retreating targets!
A coldness seized him, and from the depths of his fury, Rorik roared: “Dammit, Sara! Watch where you’re aiming!”
“I am!” And in reply, as if a volley of arrows was let loose, she shot over and around him before he could duck. At last, as a piece of advice, she shouted: “Why don’t you get out of my way!”
His fury nearly blinded him when a radiant, long, thin, sheath of death had, again harmlessly, sped past his cheek. But it was a true warning that he shouldn’t be between his sister and her targets.
And the apparent raging emotion, the incoherent swearing, his eyes narrowing, and the barely controlled ferocity of his gate towards his sister should have been warning enough to stop and flee from his wrath.
In one instant, he single-handedly snatched the bow from her hands --
-- in the next, his open hand, before she could defend herself, he struck her across the face.
She clenched her fists, gritted her teeth, and bared the vengeful malice slapped into her.
Might and massive hands fell on her, then she was thrown down on the ground in the corner of the cave. A shadow fell over her, one belonging to the enraged brother she had threatened and scorned.
The two had locked eyes upon each other for only a mere moment before rallied imps came charging and screaming bloody murder at the two. With her down, and without the means to end the bum rushing threat, it was left to her brother to turn his back on the sister he had just spited.
...Or it would have been if it were only those feuding siblings testing the cliff’s cave. Had the imps been more alert, they’d notice the shiny glint of steel from a thin metal line of wire just for just an instant --
-- and the next instant, their sense of danger was over with their heads popping off their shoulders. In one catch, within the palm of his hand, the leader of the trio, Veran, casually walked toward his companions.
But he offered a glare towards Rorik before stating: “If I see you strike her, or any another woman again, I’ll take your hands.”
Flustered, the brother began to say, “You saw --”
“I saw, and her aim was true, but yours was all over the place.” Veran stepped up close to the towering barbarian and struck the giant man with a sharply accusing finger onto the savagely muscled chest. “It was you who nearly took my life in your aimless swinging.”
In an instant, Rorik responded first by smacking his leader’s hand away, and secondly began to state: “You know how I fight --”
“And you know who’s orders you’re to follow.” Even though Rorik was a foot taller than his better, Veran appeared to have an advantage over the big man when he was putting him in his place. “You were to keep them away if they came within range of your sister. Not charge in where I was laying the trip wire.”
To defend himself, he started to point out, “They were all over you --”
“He was surrounded, not ‘all over’ him,” Sara interrupted the men’s argument. She stood, licking the thin crimson line from her bottom lip, took her place by Veran’s side, and gestured at the opening of this cave. “Had you stayed with me, I would’ve drawn them out, a few at a time as they tripped over his wire and themselves. I could have picked off a lot more without a single scratch to anyone of us.”
To emphasize her last comment, she spat a red stain on her brother’s foot.
What she did had simply brought the red mist back to the berserking barbarian’s eyes.
To me, this was quite amusing to watch, but after awhile, the entertainment I had died down. The trio were calling it a day. Their earned spoils of this encounter were those slain imps, which wasn’t much of a reward, but they appeared to be content with that.
And from what I overheard from their bickering… that was it. They had no plans of returning here since they believed the advantage of surprise was ruined. That was only the first room of the starting level to my dungeon!
It wasn’t all bad. To think, their plan had utterly failed, but those three were the first to ever survive the entrance. It was just, if that was all they were capable of doing, I was never going to see the day I dreamt of happening.
To myself… always to myself, I said, “I can’t take this anymore.”
Within my throne room, I paced back and forth from wall to wall. I didn’t want to cheat at this game, but if I wanted to have my end, a real challenge on leveled ground with someone, I had to meddle with my own dungeon.
But how? I didn’t want to make things easy for them. There would be no point in allowing the weak to stroll on through all my hard work and face me, the strong, and be dead before they could blink.
First, I had to attract them back here.
Second, I had to settle the problem between those siblings.
Third, I had to get them stronger.
Fourth, I had to ensure they survived until our final confrontation.
And fifth, I had to make this fun. So how would I go about doing that?
“...Personally.” There was a saying, and to myself once again, I said, “If you want something done, do it yourself.”
To attract them back here, I had to find out what it was they wanted. Killing imps didn’t appear to be all that thrilling to them. It was more like they were just exterminating pests.
Did somebody put up a reward for imps? If so, how did those three know there were imps here?
Perhaps I should investigate why they came here in the first place…
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From a long manor house, to a far reaching stretch of log homes across the field, surrounding a single chapel built up from the carved stone the community was founded on, and protected by the towering wall of stakes lining around the stone quarry the men chipped and picked away at daily: this was the coastal town of Gwynnd. If I remembered correctly, the name meant ‘Good wind’ for those who set sail from their home, and prayed, they’d one day return safe and sound.
On that note, their town wasn’t exactly the best money could buy. I supposed they relied on their surroundings more than what their purchased wares could provide.
Outside of its wooden palisade were a spattering of other manors, not quite as long or large as the town fortified from within, but nevertheless they housed the wealthy. If the coastal streams weren’t enough of a natural defense for the other manors, those households on the outskirts of Gwynnd were reportedly supported by the Kingsguard patrolling along the vacant road.
Those families were protected so long that they paid their dues to the governing power. At least, I thought so… that was how I’d run the place. The coastal town provides resources and commerce, the outer manors feed the townspeople with their crops from the open fields, and the patrols ensure the fields and folk are well off while out in the ranges.
But I’d never been here before… then again, I haven’t visited any community in the last four hundred years. All manner of disasters tended to wipe out things like that, and when those townsfolk couldn’t keep death and destruction away, I didn’t bother to get to know my neighbors any longer.
Times change, I supposed… and on that thought of change, I couldn’t go in there looking as I was. A horned demon, one who stood four feet higher than the average man, was not exactly a welcomed guest to humanity, let alone a solitary town far from their royal seat.
For the first part of my transformation, I shrunk down to their pitiful height. Removing my horns was next… no worries, they would grow back when I needed the pair.
As for the rest of myself, I simply gave my skin a fair shade like the rest of those townsfolk and formed a concealing dark hooded cloak to cover me. I didn’t want to go too far ahead and make anymore changes to myself until I was aware of what was going on and what I needed to win back that small lot of adventurers.
And so, from high atop of my coastal cliff, overlooking the quiet neighboring town, I pushed to my feet from the dirt, made my way down the narrow path from my dungeon, passed through the heavy foliage, and finally took to walking down the road toward Gwynnd. If I was lucky, I would make it there without a single encounter interrupting me.
In fact, I knew I wouldn’t be stopped by anyone or anything. The aura I evoked from my core was an overwhelming power that would have kept everything with a sense of survival from coming my way. It should give them that tingly sensation creeping up their spine before they’d start shaking in their boots. A confrontation was out of the question… unless the encounter was a formidable one, an equal or greater than me -- which I would gladly welcome the deathwish.
For now, I could only roughly imagine how I was going to make this all work out. As soon as I arrived, I’d have to inspect where the boasting hubbubs gather to discern what caused my three champions to test out my cave.
If I can discover the reasoning of their short adventure, everything else should be easy enough for me to make up as I go along. Why? Because I'd have found what attracted them in the first place. Well, I at least hope it'd be that easy to convince them in returning. Only one way to find out...
