Rolling the Dice

Thersea followed on the heels of the forward scouts, up ahead the rogues and scouts had slowed dealing with traps that littered the cavern passage yet as they moved forward the blood stained corridors were empty. There were no signs of monsters, but plenty of signs that there had been something here recently. Yet where had they gone? She grew nervous as each new bend saw no ambush or trap, the soldiers behind her started to relax, even joking that this would be easy.

Thersea felt differently.

These empty corridors closed in on her, each new corridor seemed to squeeze her nerves, wondering when she'd see the enemy? For the hundredth time she checked her weapons and armor, making sure she was ready when a rogue came up beside her, there was light ahead apparently, the aura of death seemed to be leaking from their destination. Nodding she advanced seeing the distant congregation, a host of undead waited for her yet as she lead her troops ahead these undead stood unmoving. Her eyes settled on the larger leader, a great ogre like skeleton armored and carrying spear and shield, but when that shield was lifted her breath caught in her throat.

Casually sitting behind the shield was a figured wrapped in robes, inky black with a covering cowl. A faceless mask greeted her eyes as she swept over this seated figure for weapons... yet there was none. This entity sat casually, as if the arriving group of holy warriors was of no more concern than a passing fly. The pressure emitted by this figure swept across them one and all, that simple casual stance spoke of confidence, that this entire situation was held within this beings hands.

Drawing her sword with a flourish she pointed it at this being and shouted out to steel her nerves, "Speak, are you the Dungeon Lord?!"

With a clang that echo'd off the walls and a yelp of pain, Thersea gripped her wrist. Her sword lay to the side batted by the spear holding skeletons weapon in a movement that denied its nature, no mere skeleton in dressy armor was this, were blows to be exchanged this creature would carve into their ranks! Glaring at the brute her eyes were suddenly drawn to a flock of skeletal fae that flew out from behind the robed figure who only raised a hand to stop the spear skeleton from further movement.

"Stay your hand, our Master commands." The lyrical voice of a fae bemoaned, the expected soft voice becoming a haunted groan that was echo'd by the the others that flitted about above Thersea's head. "Our Master brooks no threats, his host gathered to greet the invaders."

From the corridors beyond the beings back, a horde of skeletons rattled as they moved to just within the light of the room, one of the church screeched in fear standing by such a corridor, the mans staff raised as he called down the divine will of the gods, screaming in the face of the skeletal horde, "By our Lords Grace I beseech the heavens to grant me their boon. Path of Light, Turn Undead!"

Radiance washed over the skeletons, holy light flooding the corridor yet when sight returned to his fellow clergy screams rose. The corridor was still choked with small skeletons, the group shook with silent mocking laughter as the clerics went into a flurry, begging the heavens for every anti undead spell they could think of. The holy radiance flooding over the skeletons yet nothing deterred their presence. The church clerics screamed in denial fleeing behind the fellows of the Knights League screaming about how the Lord had abandoned them, that this was impossible!

Thersea swallowed and commanded her troops to stand down and back, undead that could resist holy spells, this wasn't Alexander, there's no way he could summon these superior monsters that resisted their base weakness as if it were no more than a pretty light show. Preparing to speak she was once more cut off by the creepy cries of the fae.

"Our Master grows tired of the mortal life tainting his resting place, he bids you begone lest more of your ilk join his host."

Thersea bit her lower lip glancing around as more and more undead of various sizes and shapes began to step forth from the corridors behind the still seated being, the numbers quickly spoke of a horde that could easily wash over their raid party. Glancing around, she could see the morale of the church and Knights League were at all time lows while the Mage Association were spoiling to unleash, after all, they were at the rear, what would they be in risk of while casting. Gritting her teeth she whispered... "Retreat."

The nearest knight sharply turned his head, "M'lady!"

Thersea snarled, "I said retreat, those undead resisted holy magic, we're outside our ability here. We need more Intel. So retreat, back the way we came!"

The knight seemed to hesitate before yelling out, "Fall back!"

The eerie voices of the undead fae rattled again as the figure once more raised its hand, "Our lord says your forces may withdraw. You, will stay. Your life for theirs. A simple choice, Hero."

Thersea's eyes went wide but before she could speak she felt a mailed hand on her back shoving her forward making her stumble, glancing back was her second, a knight of the league, terror in his eyes as he shoved the sacrifice forward as he lead the hurried retreat. As Thersea tried to catch her balance a pair of the skeletons flanked her. Gripping her arms, not painfully, but enough to ensure she would not fall. Glancing around she saw the horde in the tunnels vanishing as a hollow laughter came from the figure.

A hazy screen opened before Thersea, showing the entry way. The disarmed traps were being reset by kobolds while goblins, wolf riders and orcs waited for the first of the clergy who had been the first to flee when prompted stumbled into the monstrous horde. She grimaced watching as the horde fell upon the fleeing raid party, the disorganized group of cowards that threw her for their own lives would, to a man, not make it from the halls. Slumping in the grip of the skeletal fighters her gaze turned to the robed one, "What now? Is it my turn?"

She tried to steel her nerves for what seemed her untimely death but a new sound took her by surprise, laughter erupted from the seated being as the robe seemed to collapse in upon itself, no longer being half of what it was. The faceless mask pushed up to reveal a grinning childish face. "Looks like I win this round Thersea."

"Alexander?!"

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Alexander had been on pins and needles watching the raid group stalk into his dungeon unopposed. He was trying to bluff like no one else when he had assembled his troops around the central room. He needed his undead, the real ones anyway to fill the chamber with the typical chill one would feel when confronting any large group of undead, but masking the rest of his minions with the skill he bought off the Lord shop, [Deathly Visage], had been the true gamble.

The skill masked his forces as if they were the animated dead and making the true undead seem even larger and more imposing. But all of that was a mere illusion, a trick upon the eyes that could be dispelled with the flick of a finger.

Had it not been the cowardly priest dumping his holy blessings on disguised goblins but rather a mage blasting them or a knight lashing out, the ruse would have been exposed and all too easily at that. Thankfully the cleric had not thought to try more generalized prayers and focused on the fake undead nature. As the group had retreated he had thought to taunt his old rival, but seeing one of the knights shove her forward he felt rage instead.

Thus his troops were sent en masse to ensure the cowards would fall. His skeletons, the real ones, held Thersea as his body relaxed and he started laughing at a gamble won, and perhaps, at the fact that while fate had tripped him up a bit, it did not seem to him that the Path of the Hero was by any stretch a true prize with how the troops had acted towards Thersea. As he laughed and lifted the simple mask, the shock on her face made the gamble all the more worth it.

Rising up he motioned to the skeletons as he crossed the room to pick up her sword, "Bring her to the core chamber. Jansea, do not hurt this one, yet." As the procession headed deeper into the dungeon the two studied each other in more detail. To him Thersea had certainly filled out a great deal, hero training had certainly not gone undone by her, though why she was in cheap armor that basically equated to a breastplate, greaves and bracers caught him rather off guard, but considering how the knight had been all too ready to throw her to the veritable wolves, there was certainly a tale to be told that wasn't in the old books he'd studied.

As for her, gloom had settled in, the deathly pall of the surrounding undead hung over her like an executioners axe, her charges were likely running free, though she held some resentment that before she could agree to her captors request, her second had so easily abandoned her. Sort of made it clear where she stood with the abrasive orders. To make matters even more confusing was the fact her captor was Alexander!

It had been a year since she last saw him, rumor told that he had escaped pursuit but most also didn't think he still lived since neither sight nor sound of him had reached anyone, at least until this day. Having been assailed by the orders, as much as she feared her coming demise, it had been good to see him alive but she held no illusions. She was the Hero, he was the Dungeon Lord, whatever they might have been was firmly now opposing sides.

"Jansea, take the hero to my room. I repeat, do not harm her. If she resists, subdue, don't maim or kill." Alexander ordered as Thersea felt the temperature rise as she was switched from a bony claw to the less than tender grip of another. Turning she came face to face with a woman whose looks defied reason. Beautiful and desirable yet by the same token there was danger screaming in her mind. Thersea felt a longing that she had never felt before as the pair, Alexander and this tall red skinned woman dragged her through a room of fire and brimstone.

So caught up in the appeal of the demoness she didn't even see the core much less the doors they passed through to reach an opulent bed chamber. Thersea's gaze was solely transfixed on the mesmerizing woman, her senses dulled by a strong aura that made her thighs press together to quell the instinct to touch herself, an act she had never once done, yet seemed so natural despite the presence of Alexander close by. Only snapping out of it when the doors closed with Jansea's departure.

"Wha... what the.... Who the hell was that?!" She stuttered shaking the mesmerizing cobwebs from her mind, her cheeks a brilliant crimson as she felt a different discomfort that made her wonder if he had noticed.

"Jansea, my protector, if you will. Succubus, so don't feel bad about your reaction, it's her nature as a demon, just don't give into it." Alexander replied as he offered Thersea a seat, "Sit, for you it's been a year, but for me it's been less than a day, I would hear how death screwed us both that day."

Thersea blinked looking at him again, "What are you saying?"

Alexander frowned motioning to the chair, "Sit. Please."

Cautiously she sat in the offered chair as Alexander himself sat on the edge of his bed looking at her, "So how does the hero manage to become an expendable resource Thersea?" Thersea felt herself shrinking under his gaze, he looked like the same arrogant kid from a year ago but something in his voice now broke no arguement as she settled in to tell her own woes...