CWD: GA ~ Twenty-Five

Near the end of his watch, the drumming had started again, and Nacho realized why the rhythm had sounded familiar: it was reminiscent of an electronic music festival. “I guess we'll get to find out what kind of messed-up rave is going on down there.”

Morning came all too quickly, and despite the thirty-seven credits The Dinner Party still had between them, they went with the cheaper option for breakfast. Anything purchased from the Store would be just as disappointing, so they pulled open the backpacks Nacho had prepared. Soon instant oatmeal oozed down all three of their unhappy throats as quickly as they could force the goop inward.

They still had two days’ worth of food supplies remaining, but they were quickly realizing that Earth food was even more precious than they had originally thought. Nacho felt better after getting nearly a full night of unbroken sleep. Reuben was already rubbing at bleary eyes, and the cook felt for him. Middle watch was brutal. Patting his large friend on the shoulder to show solidarity, Nacho ate his breakfast without speaking—in fact unable to speak around the sludge.

Brie had been correct about sleep and the need for his abilities, and Nacho had to laugh that it was the maple and brown sugar flavored oatmeal that finally convinced him that they needed to invest in his Satiation class. As he well knew, even though Store meals were cheap, they weren’t free. They needed every credit possible to advance their Skills, and if he waited until they needed good food, they wouldn’t be able to spend the credits on advancing him.

Eventually, he would even be able to sell his food—six credits would purchase a meal for three people? That was a full one-third cheaper than the Store, and likely three times more delicious… maybe. Once he got some practice.

After tidying up their campsite and banking the fire, they left Reuben’s and Brie’s packs leaning against the entrance wall. Both of them armored up with whatever gear they had available, while Nacho filled his backpack with some of the food from their packs.

“Everyone ready to risk it all today so we can start the day with eggs tomorrow? No? Too early to talk?” They groggily descended the steps to the T-junction, and Nacho found himself bouncing with nervous excitement. “Remember that communication is key! We have our Berserker leveled up, so now she just needs something to berserk at.”

“Did you guess what the drummer pun is going to be?” Reuben finally broke the monologue that Nacho was starting up. “Going by the bird theme, I feel like I already know what the monsters are called. It’s brilliant.”

“Even if I can see the humor in them, unlike Brie, I try not to think in puns or memes.” Nacho lifted the lantern, sending light scattering along the tunnel.

“Excuse you.” Brie glared at him, her bloodshot eyes reminding Nacho that their front-liner hadn’t had coffee in a full day. “I will be up at the front. Move it.”

He hurriedly changed both his position and the subject. “Before we go seek out the drummers, let’s check out the Caw Paw lair? We can wipe out any we missed, and maybe we’ll find some treasure?”

“I’m up for that.” Reuben inhaled sharply and tapped his gauntleted fingertips together with a grin. “I love the smell of treasure in the morning!”

They followed the trail of guano down a corridor to the cavern where the Caw Paws had clustered, which ended in a mess of feathers and droppings. They spotted some gold coins encrusted to the floor, but nothing of any value. It was ironic to the cook that gold coins weren’t worth the effort of bending over to gather. They already had seventy-six coins of dubious value, and weighing themselves down wasn’t a great plan.

Having determined that there was nothing to loot, they inched back down the hallway in the same marching order. They turned to the left as the hall ended, finding a new set of steps leading downward, spiraling around, and likely leading deep under the ground. “I want to explain to you both that the deeper we go, the more Putrid Mana saturates everything, meaning the monsters become more powerful. Abyss, even the walls become harder to chip. Also, these creatures of the deep don’t need to eat to level up; the poison leaks into their bodies automatically. At least, that’s the leading theory.”

“The longer we go without killing them, the more likely something way too powerful comes out?” Reuben’s query reminded Nacho of the not-distant-enough Calamity, but he merely nodded in agreement as they continued onward. The helical stone staircase ended at a vast abyss, where a narrow ledge cut into the side of the bedrock allowed them to ease along the edge of the pit. A handful of lights were visible deep below, flickering as they were occasionally blocked by figures moving and glowing strangely. The drumming sounded louder here, seeming to come from the bottom of the crevice.

Brie looked a little pale, though Nacho couldn’t be too sure: the lantern wasn’t helping anyone’s complexion. “I can’t stop thinking about how glad I am that I leveled my combat abilities. I have no idea how you’re so calm about going into this as a Basic Chef.”

“He’s a Common Cook. Specific words matter.” Reuben grinned at the double eye roll he earned. “Look, I’m only here to give you some Positive Vibes, maybe a hug or two.”

“Sounds good right now,” Brie admitted as she gripped her maul tightly, “but me and Milley are gonna focus on making the monsters hug the wall with their blood.”

“Eh… I’d give that one a four out of ten.” The Healer grinned at the fact that his bride didn’t look back at him. “I knew it! You are trying to figure out a catchphrase.”

An increase in the drumming below hushed them. The syncopated beat went boom, boom, boom, the same deep bassline of every EDM song Nacho had ever heard.

The ledge offered them a choice: keep going straight—over a narrow bridge—or descend a ladder. Something about that bridge felt like a trap, but why would a nice, convenient ladder be here? Nacho wracked his brain to remember what Myron might’ve said about the MurderSong Dungeon way back when. Likely nothing that would be useful to any of them, seeing as he’d forgotten to include anything about croaking. More probable, the Assassin had intentionally misled people with his stories.

“Down the ladder?” Brie motioned to the iron rungs hammered into the rock. It looked fairly new, not a spot of rust, but… something about this situation…?

“Down the ladder,” Nacho very reluctantly agreed.

Brie’s Splatter Mallet—now apparently named ‘Milley’—vanished into her Storage Slot, and she started down with Reuben right above her. The Healer wasn’t about to let his fiancée descend without being there to hold her together if something got in a lucky attack. One major benefit of his gauntlets was that he could climb with his weapons ready.

Nacho slung the bow and quiver over his shoulder, along with his backpack. He climbed down with the lantern clenched in his teeth, wishing momentarily that they had headlamps like the miners from movies. He pushed the thought away; there was an option for an oil-based light that attached to your head, but he’d once seen a guy get hit and wind up with his face on fire. As he started down, he whispered under his breath, “No~o thank you.”

They ever-so-slowly descended a good five hundred feet from the ledge, all the way down to a smaller crevice in the rock face, where a tunnel led off into the darkness. They could take it… or they could continue to make their way down to what appeared to be the lowest floor of this missile silo of a hole. Then they’d know who—or what—was drumming. Something told Nacho that the MurderSong Blades wouldn’t be found that deep. Myron had gotten them early on, when he’d been weak and clueless. Even then, he must’ve gotten lucky; something powerful would guard such valuable artifacts. Currently, his team was so deep that there was a good chance they’d face at least one Tier one monster, and they’d need to run.

With that concern in mind, Nacho nearly called off the operation. They wouldn’t be able to even damage a Tier one. Fighting across level gaps was already hard; fighting across Tier gaps was impossible without the skills and gear to even things out. as they were.

At the bottom of the ladder, where the crack continued descending to the floor, Nacho gathered his friends around him while the air thrummed with the drumbeat. “Listen… this is getting too risky. I didn’t realize how far down this was. As long as we're facing Tier zero monsters, we should be fine as a team. But. If we encounter something that’s Tier one, you physically will not be able to pierce its skin. I think we should leave before that becomes an issue.”

Brie waved his concern away with a harsh, “Wait, we won’t be able to do anything to them? You probably should’ve told me this back in the first cave before I started running ahead. It’s fine, I get that you aren’t perfect, but I need to know… do I need to pierce its skin to kill it? I have a hammer. Brie smash monster with hammer.”

“You’ve never been more beautiful to me than you are at this moment,” Reuben whispered without allowing his eyes to leave her face.

“Technically… no, you don’t need to cut it.” Nacho went through the logistics of inter-Tier combat quickly. “At Tier one, Putrid Mana reinforces the skin of the monsters with their mana, giving them supernatural armor. The only way around that armor is to inflict just crazy numbers in damage with a single strike. As far as research shows, you generally have to do at least a tenth of the thing’s total Health Points, or the attack just bounces off. We’ve been able to kill beasts pretty quickly, but they were all pretty low level, not to mention within our own Tier. I’d imagine that whatever is guarding the MurderSong Blades is going to be quite a bit tougher: they are amazing knives. Most artifacts lose their potency once you hit Tier one, but not these. I know for a fact that you can buy upgrades for them at the Store.”

“Do you mean that Brie-Hulk is going to have to give up her Splatter Mallet?” Reuben questioned with a concerned glance at his clearly hammer-obsessed bride-to-be. “Brie-Hulk… Bulk? Can I call her ‘Bulk’ and get away with it?”

“Give up Milley? Say it ain’t so,” Brie breathed with misty eyes, which hardened as she realized what Reuben had said out loud. “You can get away with calling me ‘Bulk’ once. That’s right now, and never again.”

“You’ll probably have to get a new one.” Nacho tried to rip the bandage off as gently as possible, patting the hammer as Brie clutched it close. “If it’s any consolation, it’s fairly likely that we can find you another maul that does horrific things to monsters. Back to the point of all this: I’m pausing our little strike team to tell you, if you can’t hurt a monster, we run. We beat feet as fast as we can out of this place, and hope that whatever we’re facing can’t fly.”

“Oh. Oh no.” Reuben looked a bit taken aback as realization dawned that they might be in over their heads. “Ladders and fighting don’t really go together, Nacho.”

“No, they do not.” Nacho enunciated each word grudgingly. He hated that he was so driven to get the knives. They could’ve stayed up top, killed random wildlife, and leveled up safely. His major issue was that once he fixated on a plan, it was incredibly difficult for him to deviate from it. It was a failing he had never found the time to address, but he knew the root cause: growing up in chaos, he clung to order as soon as he felt that he had found it.

With the lantern’s light mostly blocked, Nacho noticed a myriad of strange, multicolored light issuing from the floor itself. He also noticed polished footholds in the rock that would allow them to reach the floor below without much trouble. They picked their way down the stone wall until they could clearly see the floor and the bizarre creatures.

Once again, the monsters on their battle menu were crow-themed, but these things were man-shaped and wearing leather armor, cat-pelt stoles, and feathery cloaks fashioned from the Caw Paws, or that’s what their garb looked like. No wonder the Caw Paws had retreated when they heard the drumming; they didn’t want to become some other monster’s accessory.

The man-shaped bird-men had the heads of giant crows, with those same unblinking stygian eyes. The same sharp, curved beaks. They likewise brandished weapons of obsidian, the sharpened wedges of rock strapped to wooden handles with leather thongs. Constantly in motion, the crow-men clutched the axes and spears with thin fingers at the end of their feathery arms.

There were five of the man-shaped creatures that they could see: four were dancing, and one kept rhythmically slamming a drumstick on a single huge drum sitting on the floor. That drum was like a timpani on steroids. Every time the drummer struck the skin, the impact echoed off the walls, sounding exactly like an electric drum. It was almost… mesmerizing. Nacho could easily see himself enjoying this music, falling into a flow state as he worked. But unfortunately, these beasts needed to die so that he could get a few extra credits, and that was all that mattered.

Five crow-men. One drumming, four dancing, but then things became strange. The crow-men wore glowing anklets, bracelets, and necklaces shining with a mixture of pink and green. The big timpani drum was also painted with the neon-colors, but blue and yellow had been added to the pink and green.

“Do you get the pun yet?” Reuben whispered directly into Nacho’s ear, his eyes sparkling.

“Sadly… yes.” Nacho closed his eyes and answered with a defeated sigh. “They’re ‘Rave-ings’, aren’t they?”

Reuben had to wheeze to hold in his laughter. “I knew it. I called it. I should’ve told you up top, but you never would’ve believed I hadn’t snuck down here to get the answer ahead of time.”

Nacho eyed his friend suspiciously, but the Healer merely continued to look innocent and a touch naive. Stifling a disbelieving snort, the cook used the System View to zoom in on one of the crow-men.

Rave-ings

Effective Tier/Level: ?

HP: ?

That single question mark next to the Effective Tier/Level put him at ease for about three seconds, until he recalled the name of the dungeon. He said the last word out loud as he applied the puns he had been intentionally ignoring suddenly bloomed into realization. “That sign didn’t say The MurderSong of the Croaking. It was the Crow King. These things have a leader, and I’ll bet you anything he’ll be right at the edge of Tier one… if he’s not there already.”

The five Rave-ins were getting their groove on when another five came running up. These were clearly not part of the same group, as the intruders’ jewelry glowed yellow and blue. The Dinner Party watched in stunned silence as the interlopers used the blunt ends of their weapons to bash the original crow-men to the floor. Once the last of the pink and green Rave-ings crumpled to the ground, the yellow and blue ones stole the drum and rolled it off into the darkness waiting at the bottom of the pit.

The pink-greenies got to their feet, stood motionless for a moment as if stunned, then chased after the yellow and blue interlopers, squawking harshly. Reuben watched the bird-men as they ran, nodding sagely as he observed the skirmish from their hidden position. “That explains why the drumming starts and stops. They have rival DJs. DJ competition can be fierce. There might be a dance fight, and we need to go see it.”

“No, we need to strategize. There were at least ten of the Rave-ings, and probably a leader. Like with the Caw Paws, we need to divide and conquer. Wait here, and be ready,” Nacho whispered, scurrying out long before Brie or Reuben could stop him. He didn’t want to get mired down in a long discussion when they needed the lay of the land. There were a few things that didn’t rely on Assassin skills, and he’d been training himself to move swiftly and silently for months, in addition to his previous years of experience.

The walls were full of cracks and alcoves, and he immediately found a fissure to dash into. His eyes glittered in the darkness as he tracked the colorful glowing drum into the resulting hiding place. It had been rolled to the north end of the floor—at least, Nacho thought it was north—and had been positioned directly next to a throne, as well as a collection of sticks and sparkly things.

On that throne sat what had to be the Crow King.

He was a giant beast, seven feet tall at least, and his Caw Paw pelts were far more ornate than the others. They gleamed with gold, jewels, bits and bobs, as well as random shiny objects that a humanoid crow might collect and weave into cloth he’d made out of other crow creatures. The Crow King unabashedly sported neon warpaint in the colors of both sets of Rave-ings, as he was their king. In the end, he was a savage specimen of monster crow madness.

A yellow and blue drummer thrummed on the giant drum with his timpani mallet and the other four yellow and blue crow-men danced, while the pink-and-greenies stood on the outskirts, cawing, croaking, and brandishing their weapons. Every time one of the five pink-and-greens tried to steal the drum back, the others let out raucous shrieks and swiped at them with blades that had been hidden only moments prior. In the face of such a zealous defense, the pink-and-greenies were forced back.

When the Crow King saw their plight, he croaked out twisted laughter.

The System View didn’t work at long range, so Nacho couldn’t get a read on the Crow King, but he would’ve bet anything that the monster on the throne was a too high level for them to fight. Even so, the cook had an idea, and he swiftly slipped through the shadows and back up the footholds to where Brie and Reuben were waiting.

“Not. Cool. Nacho.” Brie’s lips were pressed together so tightly that she could barely get the words out.

“Sorry. I’m used to doing this alone, and I wasn’t thinking. I’ll try not to let it happen again. Listen… I ran some recon.” He quickly detailed what he had seen… and then outlined his plan.

“I like it a lot.” Reuben grinned in the lantern’s dim glow. “An old-school ambush, just like Grandma used to make.”