Duelling Dungeons

“I don’t understand why Talia asked us to make the final push,” Sylvia muttered as she stepped through the portal. “I thought she wanted to take on Nor’Goth herself.”

“I assume it’s because she had other plans,” Luther said as he floated after her. “Ones that require Nor’Goth to be distracted perhaps?”

“Do you really believe that?” Sylvia asked, glancing over her shoulder at the poltergeist.

“No, not really,” Luther replied, reaching up to adjust his top hat. When his hands dropped, his mask had a cheeky grin on it. “However, I stopped trying to figure out what that girl has going through her head a long time ago. All that gets you is a headache. The best we can do is trust that she knows what she’s doing and push ahead with our assignment.”

“You have a lot of faith in her, don’t you?” Sylvia asked.

“Do you not, after all the interactions you’ve had with her?” Luther asked in surprise.

“I don’t trust easily, but I’m getting there,” Sylvia admitted. “She does have a certain way about her…”

“A certain naivety, perhaps?” Luther asked.

“She’s not naive,” Sylvia said, shaking her head. “A little too trusting, maybe. Hopeful. And very easily distracted.”

“You’re partially right,” Luther said. “She doesn’t trust easily; she was actually fairly guarded when she first came to us. I think she sees something in you; that’s why she trusts you so easily.”

“Well, I’m flattered,” Sylvia muttered. “Although I’m not sure why.”

“You'll have to wait until after the match to ask her,” Luther replied, before floating up and taking a look around the dark room. “Speaking of the match… where is everyone. This is the Sanctum’s final bastion; I would have thought they’d have people guarding it.”

“Maybe they’re on the offensive? Talia did say they didn’t have that much staff left,” Sylvia suggested. “That being said, at this point of the match, I’d expect them to prioritize defence over offence.”

Luther shrugged. “If Nor’Goth is connected to the rest of his team at all times, he could just call them back once he knows we’re here. We should be prepared for them to show up at any time, flanking us from an unexpected direction.”

“I’ll leave that to you and… yourselves?” Sylvia said, gesturing to the five additional versions of Luther floating a couple of feet behind them. “And the rest of the team. I’ll handle what comes at us from ahead.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got your back,” one of the other Luthers remarked.

“And if not us, the Mimics will be able to sniff out anyone coming,” another exclaimed. “They may not have eyes, but they can smell someone coming from a mile away.”

Sylvia cocked her head to the side. “How does that make sense? They don’t have noses either!”

“They’ve never let that stop them before!” yet a third Luther remarked, hiding his mask behind a hand for a moment before revealing a cheeky grin.

“Whatever, just follow my lead,” Sylvia grumbled, hefting her massive shield and turning towards the hallway that led further into the Sanctum’s Apex.

As they progressed through the dark hallways, the flickering firelight created long, twisting shadows on the walls. The shapes played tricks on the mind, making it feel like there were people there, hiding just out of sight, ready to jump them, but no one did.

Sylvia shook her head; she wasn’t normally paranoid, but something about this place put her on edge.

Something, or someone.

“I swear, Nor’Goth, if you try and get into my head again, I’ll shove this sword so far up your ass…” Sylvia whispered.

“What was that?” one of the Luthers called from behind her.

She just shook her head. “Nothing, let’s keep moving.”

The team quickly but carefully made their way through the next few rooms, encountering nothing but shadows until they reached a massive, locked, black wooden door.

“Huh, did we go the wrong way? I thought all dungeons were supposed to keep a clear path through to the boss room,” Sylvia muttered.

“In a regular match, but not in a Dungeon Clash. The Sanctum did the same thing in their last match to buy time for the final ritual to finish,” Luther explained as his main body floated up next to her.

“And how did their last opponent deal with it?” Sylvia asked.

“They threw a literal giant against it,” he replied, a smirking mask covering his face. “Everyone knows that when you want to siege a location, nothing beats an angry giant.”

“That’s great, but we don’t have a giant, and our time is running out,” Sylvia grumbled. “How are we supposed to get through that? I didn’t exactly bring the best weapon for breaking through a door,” she said holding up her blade.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this. Otto!” Luther replied before shouting over his shoulder.

A terrifyingly large mimic in the shape of a sofa pushed its way through the small pack of animated furniture that had been following them around. The cushions raised, revealing a long prehensile tongue and dozens of dagger-like teeth. “Eat?” it asked.

“Your brilliant plan is to use a mimic?” Sylvia asked suspiciously. “I hate to tell you this, but giants are significantly larger, and far more destructive.”

Luther smiled. “Just watch,” he said before turning to Otto. “Your next meal is on the other side of that door.”

Otto retracted its tongue and tilted to one side, like it was thinking. “Eat?” it finally asked again.

“If you can reach it,” Luther prompted.

Otto’s tongue lulled out again just before it charged across the room on its stumpy little wooden legs. “EAT!”

When they heard Otto’s warcry, the other Mimics all charged after it, stampeding towards the door. Sylvia’s eyes went wide, and she had to throw herself out of the way to avoid getting trampled by the ravenous horde.

“Luther…” she growled, as she struggled to push herself back to her feet. It wasn’t easy, even for someone with her strength; plate mail wasn’t exactly the lightest armor to run around in.

“Just watch!” Luther declared with glee, gesturing towards the mimics.

The small horde had converged upon the door, and while many of the smaller ones were trying to gnaw on the molding, the larger ones were licking huge swaths of the door with their long, prehensile tongues leaving a trail of thick, sticky saliva. The areas they licked began to smoke, the steel fittings began to melt away slowly, and after only a few seconds holes were began to appear in the impressive black edifice.

“That’s horrifying,” Sylvia exclaimed. “Are you telling me that Mimic saliva is that corrosive?”

“But of course. Those little critters will eat anything they can get their greedy little tongues around. Living, dead, inanimate, they don’t care what it is as long as they can stuff it in their mouths,” Luther explained. “I’ve seen them eat lit candelabras, stone statues, full sets of armor, the works. They don’t care what it is, only that it fits in their mouths.”

“If they can eat anything, why do they get so excited about what’s on the other side of the door? Couldn’t they just grab anything in this room?” Sylvia asked.

“They could, but they like to taste new things, and from what I understand, every person tastes different,” Luther replied.

“Again, horrifying,” Sylvia muttered as a particularly large section of the door broke away and shattered on the floor.

With the way open, the mimics rushed towards the gap, but just as the first reached it, a flash of purple launched the creature back across the room, hard enough to send it crashing into the far wall, where it exploded into motes of light.

“What’s the matter with you people?” Nor’Goth asked, his voice echoing from the other side of the door. “Don’t you know how to knock?”