Squish, squish, squish, echoes from beneath my feet as the light fades away and I am plunged into complete darkness. As much as I enjoy the darkness, I don't like the idea of being forced into it for eternity at the hand of some veiled attacker; thus, I form a small flame to illuminate the cave, displaying its rough majesty.
The corpse mat stretches as far as the eye can see, not a very far way considering the sharp curve of the cave ahead, mind you, and provides the only unique feature of this earthen worm.
The ground, ceiling, and walls are rough rock, lined with dirt and moss. Yet, the moss is not particularly dense, for this section of cave is quite dry.
For now, there is little to do other than follow the cave as it spirals down ever deeper, carving its way into the depths of the earth. The path has no branches, no splits, no arms, it is a single downward spiral that, should I wish to uncover the secrets of this mountain, I feel I must take to their natural conclusion.
Gradually, the atmosphere of the cave begins to change. The temperature, which had been roughly similar to that of the surface, begins a slow and steady decline. The dry gives way to damp, and a faint dripping begins to be audible, echoing throughout.
As I make my way through this single tunnel, delving ever deeper into the earth, my only light being that which comes from the ball of flame held over my hand, I begin to feel the oppression and evil within.
I had never been claustrophobic, and the ground has been littered with broken corpses all the way, no, that is not what I refer to. There is a strong feeling in this place, a feeling which compels me to want to flee.
If I were to compare it to any I had felt before, it would be the presence of General Lion. But where he made one want to run and hide like a mouse conflicted by a majestic lion, this feeling is more like the terror a horror movie protagonist must feel when they venture into some haunted crypt.
To put it simply, where Lion was terrifying in his majestic might, this place reeks of an aura of evil that would snuff your life out and take your soul for some nefarious practice. It is the type of place that one wants to extricate himself from before his very life is cruelly taken away!
Of course, I have yet to see any sign of what malevolent force this feeling originates from, and, considering my investigative intent, it seems rather silly to leave out of mere fear without finding out anything.
Ever downward, ever downward, until, with a final, sharp turn, the cave opens up into a large cavern.
This room is not free of the mat of corpses that have thus far disturbed my travels; no, beyond only covering the floor, great heaps of their monstrous remains gather along the walls and in the corners.
The stench in this room is, somehow, a good deal stronger than in the winding cave; perhaps the bodies here are older, or perhaps the damp nature has contributed to faster decay of the corpses.
Water droplets rain down from stalactites to form stalagmites on the cave below, creating great columns that reach longingly across the cavern's apacious height to embrace. Hardly an impossible goal, either; more than a single naturally formed pillar holds up this room where the embrace occurred after centuries of longing.
The light of my flame makes clear three additional exits to the room, their entryways nearly buried in piled corpses; that their may be other exits to this room seems likely, considering how high the bodies are mounted against the walls, crushed into place by those larger beasts that I had encountered along my journey here.
The first of these entryways is quite large, a tunnel through which any creature shorter than fifteen feet and narrower than twenty could fit through; it is this tunnel that is the least congested with the corpses of those crushed in the stampedes, due solely to its large size.
The second tunnel is a small hole high on the wall, through which I would have to crawl to fit in. From my angle, I cannot see its floor; thus, I can neither confirm or deny whether it is fitted with a carpet of corpses as all the rest of the cave has been. Perhaps the small animals are more gentle with each other, who is to say?
Though even if the little tunnel has not even a single corpse, if it is not even a tunnel but merely a cavity in the wall, it would not change the number of dead within this place. Of course, it is not the number of dead that necessarily surprise me, a great many creatures fled this cave, that several tens of thousands would die in a stampede involving a million or more cramming through a series of tight passageways hardly comes as a surprise.
No, what surprises me now, and what surprised me on the way here when I encountered the massive swarms of monsters fleeing these caves, is the number itself.
Thus far, this cave has seemed rather normal, the obvious exception being the mountains of dead. For such a number of creatures to be sustained within, there must be some method. The only alternative is that this cave system stretches on over an absurd distance and that every monster in a thousand mile radius was flushed out through a single opening. Not impossible, I suppose, but to me it seems more likely that there would be a hidden area somewhere down here in which life can be better sustained, an underground area capable of sustaining life. Perhaps silly, but in a world of magic, where evil beings can create swamps that extend for hundreds of miles and are covered in endless fog, why could there not be some underground sanctuary of sorts down here where these monsters lived until flushed out by this evil force which even I fear?
Fantasies aside, there is one more cave, sized such that a large man could walk comfortably through, that branches off from the cavern, turning shortly such that none of its shadowy depths may be revealed. While this cave is slightly above my head in elevation, I am able to observe that it too is lined with the dead.
Choosing at random, considering that monsters have clearly come from all three, or at least the lower, larger two, I enter into the medium size cave, leaping from the ground to land comfortably within its mouth.
The cave twists and turns a dozen times before opening into another large cavern. The corpses are fewer here, and I count over fifty branching coves coming off of it. I also notice that by this point the feeling of oppressive dread has lessened somewhat, barely perceptible yet certainly not just my imagination.
Immediately, I am met with a choice: backtrack and follow the other routes, or start investigating each of the branching caves in this room?
The best method if I desire to see every single cave in the place would be to pick a cave and continue going, repeating until I reach a dead end, before backtracking to the last junction, doing this until the entire cave is mapped…
Yet, there are several issues with this. First, I don't have time to map this entire system, nor is that why I'm here. Second, I hardly know how to make a detailed map, and I can't exactly be expected to remember the contents of every cave branch I may encounter, I could waste a lot of time, or, worse yet, end up lost. Considering that I am rather pressed for time, and that I don't wish to starve to death in the darkness, that is far from ideal.
The final point is the lessening of the fearful, oppressed feeling. Perhaps it is foolish of me, desiring to chase after a sensation of such obvious danger, but it seems equally obvious that this sensation will lead me to the answer to the mystery of this place.
So, without much hesitation, I backtrack down the cave, back into the first, corpse-filled cavern.
From there, I make my way down the largest cave; when I feel that sensation begin to lessen, I immediately turn around, no longer interested in whatever secrets may lay beyond the light of my flames.
[Of course it would be the small, mysterious cave,] I think with a sigh. Carefully controlling the air elemental particles in the atmosphere, which are more stagnant here than I had ever sensed before, I elevate myself to the level of the little cave.
Or, perhaps, 'tunnel' is more appropriate; two feet wide and a foot tall, it is a claustrophobic fit. Add in the small corpses that line the ground after all, and it is truly a miserable experience.
After dragging my way a hundred feet down the tunnel, a time in which it does not change at all, I begin to feel the dreadful sensation slightly fade.
While I should perhaps be unhappy, having run entirely out of leads, I cannot help but be happy that I may commence the process of getting out of this disgusting tunnel.
It takes me about ten minutes to push myself out; thankfully, I have maintained a slender physique, otherwise, it would have certainly been even less pleasant.
Despite the speed with which I want to act, being covered in the vile gore of inhuman beasts is hardly acceptable to me; thankfully, a blast of water and another of hot air cleans and dries my clothes in only a couple minutes.
For a moment, I consider leaving; after all, I have checked every cave that the source of this sensation, and the source of the monstrous rampage, was likely to be in, I could easily report to the guild that I have done my best. Besides, after that most recent experience, crawling through the crushed remains of foul creatures, my curiosity is much diminished, my desire to be free of my curse has again taken over my mind, I want to get going.
Still, there is one last thing to check. With a reluctant sigh, I blow the bodies lining the walls into a mound in the center; sure enough, another passageway is revealed, three feet wide and six feet tall, at ground level too – if not for the roughness of the rock, I may almost think it man made.
[Well, I guess I'd better check that. I am still a little bit curious after all, and a few minute delay that allows me to set aside my curiosity probably shouldn't have too great an impact on the time I may be free of my name… hopefully.]
I start down the tunnel, which is just as filled with the dead as the former ones. No dying, I notice; every creature I have encountered thus far has been fully dead, it is almost as though the escape from these caves was a 'flee or die' scenario; either those in the cave escaped, or they died trying. I guess that does reignite my curiosity, if only a bit.
I haven't taken even a couple dozen steps down the cave when I heave a big sigh. [It seems that my curiosity may yet be rewarded, at the expense of my time…] I think, as that guiding sensation which fills me with such dread and yet such curiosity grows perceptibly stronger.
A hundred steps, then two hundred, and I notice that the cave is sloping down. A handful of passages branch off, but none has the same feeling as the one of my interest, so I continue on straight forward.
Three hundred steps, and I emerge into another cavern. Immediately, I detect signs of movement; half buried under a pile of rubble across the room, a single arm and the head of a hideous beast flail madly about.
The monster has no eyes for me; it only frantically tries to drag itself from under the pile. Its fingers scrape incessantly against the rough surface of the cave floor, where lines of blood are left behind. A quick glance shows its fingers to be worn to the bone, and perhaps even beyond, a bloody mess of fleshy scraps and the dust of his ground away bones.
Yet the monster ignores this, its attempts to claw itself free of the mound pressing onto its back unhindered by the pain they bring.
Perhaps unsurprising, considering that even a glance into its eyes would tell of its madness. They hold within their depths a wild, frenzied look, as if the creature has been driven insane by its need to flee.
And this monster is hardly weak either; it gives off a strong B-rank aura, something that I could beat in a fair fight, but certainly not weak.
[To drive such a creature to attempt to flee with such maddening intensity, that it would be incapable of rational thought at all; truly I must ask, what is this mysterious force, the force of my dread and the insane fear of these creatures?]
With one spell, I kill the humanoid creature, severing its head from its body with a single blade of compressed wind. Even as its death approaches, it had no eyes for me, driven only by its desire to physically distance itself from this threat which even I feel so clearly.
With another spell, I clear the rubble which had pinned it in life and veiled it in death, revealing a badly damaged corpse lying in front of a natural archway of stone.
Walking directly on top of the body, being sure to take not only its life but its dignity as well, I directly enter into this arch. After all, this current room has no other exits to it, the arch is the only way forwards. Besides, it's not like I'm going to turn back after coming so far.
The archway leads into another natural tunnel that, quite reminiscent of the first, winds to and fro like a serpent while yet not having any branching pathways. Back and forth, and ever downward, I follow the path. The sense of dread becomes almost palpable as it presses down upon me; if I were to drop dead at this very moment, I would not be at all surprised – such an occurrence would seem completely natural when such feelings are taken into account.
It is at this time that I definitely decide to stop and turn around, to prioritize the advancement of my first goal as I should. Yet, as if carried forth by madness, I am compelled to continue, to identify the source of this wretched power which floods over me and has thus driven these other creatures to a state similar to my own… though, of course, their drive is to escape while mine is to encounter. We are not the same.
The caves wind, and the dread condenses, until I have exited the cave.
And it is not just the section of the cave that I have exited, that winding bit; no, I am, it would seem, no longer able to claim my location as a cave at all. The room I am in is a perfect cube, thirty feet along each axis. Tiled in marble, with a ceiling held up by four narrow pillars of the same – a ceiling painted in a horrifically detailed mural depicting slaughter. While the walls are bare white expanses, the ceiling is anything but.
A close attention to the ceiling is all that is required to observe the details which it depicts. Two armies clash, one of white and green, with regular accents of red and gold, and one of purple and black.
From my position thirty feet below, the ears of the participants are quite clear; a first impression would indicate this to be a fight between two elven forces, an even of the likes could never occur in the modern age, when the total number of elves in the world is hardly enough to populate a small town.
Yet, closer examination would quickly prove these assumptions wrong. While the force of white and green has primarily golden hair, light skin, and eyes of varied natural colors, the one of purple and black is… off. While the hair and skin are still light, the hair is depicted more as a white than as a gold and the skin is completely colorless, as though bleached of light. Their eyes are a subtle red, and small fangs seem to be occasionally present.
If it is not yet obvious, the painting is extremely impressive, detailed beyond belief while still maintaining a stylistic identity.
Beyond the forces, a rather mundane environment is depicted, bland fields and plain plains, with some mountains blurred in the distance; clearly, the focus is intended to be upon the battle itself.
Outside the battle, there is only one detail that is apparent to me; a miniature sun hovers above the green force, while the purple armies move underneath a dark miasmic cloud. Of course, this may simply be a stylistic choice; a certain engraving by Paul Revere comes to mind, though the symbolism is hardly unique to him alone.
Other than the entrance through which I passed is another door, a door which is engraved in glyphs of many varieties; thankfully, one set is recognizable to me.
After ensuring that I have not missed any details of note in the room, I approach and read the door.
"Be warned, visitor, that great danger lies beyond this way. While the world will not be forced to endure this danger in any case, your life is likely to be forfeit if you enter. Enter with caution." I read aloud.
[Well, that does sound a bit menacing, though thankfully not the type of ridiculous messaging often associated with worlds defined by fantasies. It simply says that danger lies beyond and that I am likely to die if I enter; yet, measures have been set in place that, whatever my fate, the danger shall not escape. No nonsense about the world ending should the way be unveiled, just personal death. Noted.]
Again, I decide to leave this place once and for all, to report this finding to the guild and continue on with my sensible quest of being free of the name so graciously gifted to me by Lector. Yet, my body, driven by what can only be my awful madness skill, moves to open the door.
Yes, madness. It's definitely not my own curiosity, or a reckless nature shining through. After all, I have no reckless nature! Recklessness is the way of fools, and, as I am no fool, I also cannot be reckless. Simple logic, just like the way my actions are governed when I am not ruled by madness!
And so, with no permission on my part, my hand rests on the door for a moment; then, with great hesitation and yet also anticipation, pushes inward on the door.