Worthy Core

"Still can't believe they got Catapault Carrie."

Tiffany groans as she eyes Grenwald, almost spilling some of the breakfast off of her plate as she does so. "Ugh, it's too early in the morning for this. Probably. Doesn't feel like I got nearly enough sleep, anyhow." She examines the cavern the expedition camped out in, but it's the same dimly-lit space it was when she went to bed the night before. Yesterday had been a grueling endurance trek for the Domain forces - climbing up a mountain, descending down into it, then hours of walking through dark tunnels with brief moments of excitement and death. After the force had pushed their way through the newly-made Floor Twelve the commanders had declared a halt for the day, and Tiffany had been glad to take it despite not engaging in any major battles herself.

"I'm just saying, that lady was like a roach. Crawled out of a dozen fights that I thought killed her for sure! I mean, you saw that thing up on Floor Six and she walked away from that one laughing!" Grenwald shakes his head before refocusing on his own plate. "I mean, not saying I blame the two others that left her behind. Gods know I've wanted to do that once or twice."

The arcane demon rolls her eyes at the kobold. "What, was she an ex-girlfriend or something?"

"Ex-sister-in-law. She was married to one of my brothers for like, two months. Got divorced after both of them spent enough time sober to realize what a mistake that was."

Tiffany blinks. "Ah. I'm...sorry for your loss?"

"Ahh, my only loss is that she ain't here to provide fire support any more. She might've been a pain in the tail but she was twice as bad for whoever you aimed her at." The man's musing is interrupted as Pretty Thing returns to their small fire within the camp. "Oh hey, it's the big guy. Any news from the morning briefing with the high-and-shinies?"

The incubus clasps a palm to his chest. "If the officer's briefing was meant for everyone to hear, they would have done an announcement of it!" He gives Grenwald an affronted look for a moment before shrugging. "Or at least, that's probably what I would say if I were an actual military officer."

The Warp Mistress chuckles. "Hurray for the life of a mercenary. So what can you tell us, then?"

"More tunnels this morning, followed by re-entering the dungeon this afternoon. It's not quite certain where we'll be breaking in at, and we may need to make a few attempts if our first is too far off from the dungeon's core chamber, but even with the defenses put up the tunnels here are unlikely to keep us tied up for another full day. Which is to say, expect more skirmishes in the morning, followed by battles to the death once we reach the dungeon's true defenses."

Grenwald points a thumb back in the direction of Floor Twelve. "There was a shortcut portal back there, right? Like, a dungeon has to have a route through all of its floors, and it can't be that blocked off. Why aren't we giving that a try?"

Pretty shakes his head. "If I were the dungeon I would link that shortcut portal to Floor Seven. Meaning that even if we take it, we'd be right back where we would have been if we hadn't done any of this wandering around at all. Regardless of where it leads though, the mortal defenders have far fewer restrictions on them than the dungeon itself, and I would be shocked if there were not a kill zone set up to eliminate any scouts that pass through. We're keeping our guard up on this end to prevent attacks on our rear, but otherwise we're ignoring it."

After he says that, the man frowns before continuing. "Although speaking of attacks on our rear, apparently messages to and from our rearguard stopped coming in early this morning. It's only one or two missed checks right now, but we'd be fools to assume it's not enemy action."

The Stone Stalwart considers that and then responds with a shrug. "Not shocked they'd go after easier targets. Not like it matters that much. With our bags and all that we've got weeks of supplies down here, and if we don't have an easier way out of here in a couple of days then something's gone real wrong." The man furrows his brow as a thought occurs to him. "Although if we do crack Worthy, won't it be kind of hard to actually get back up?"

Pretty smirks. "What, without shortcut portals or that moving platform on Floor Two? It'll be a bit more difficult, yes. The dungeon won't collapse, of course - as you can see, this all around us was a dungeon centuries ago, and although it's seen better days it's still quite safe for a casual hike. But worse case scenario, we may need a few days just to transport everyone back up to the surface."

"Enough of the far future, though." Tiffany grimaces as she digs into her army rations. "There's a chance a lot of us won't even make it to the end of today. So what's our role for today?"

The incubus's grin turns toothy. "Well, with the unfortunate demise of Catapault Carrie, it seems there's an empty slot open for rapid-response squads..."

Grenwald groans. "Dammit, why'd you have to go and get crushed, Carrie..."

The next few hours are a difficult time for the dungeon's defenders. The first skirmish of the day is a unit of the Dungeon Legion walking into an ambush prepared by Alizz and her team, and largely manned by the elementals. Unfortunately, many of the traps which had been set up by Ruckus, Renter, and the others had been made with humanoid opponents in mind. With some of the monsters skittering across the ceiling, leaping large distances, or simply flying, most of the traps weren't triggered and many of those which were missed rather badly. Several elementals were shattered by their dungeon-born opponents, and Renter lost his beloved leather hat to a glob of acid spit by a reptilian monster.

Not that they didn't claim a few kills of their own, but when Pretty Thing and his squad showed up to support, Taly and Trush arrived to cover the retreat with their lives. For an hour or so, at least.

Just before lunch the expedition came across the first connection to a dungeon floor, which was awkwardly positioned at the ceiling of one of the larger chambers. It was broken open, just to see where it might lead, and found that it connected to one of the earlier portions of Floor Nine. That was progress - they'd bypassed floors Seven and Eight entirely - but it still wasn't enough to justify a return to the proper dungeon bounds. There was at least Floor Ten still to find, and the Dragonlord stated an expectation that Xenia had likely added unknown floors since the siege had begun.

That expectation was confirmed when the next defensive position was sabotaged by a pair of Domain agents - a dwarvish couple who had spent years Challenging in the Domain. The amount of damage they were able to do was somewhat limited, but more importantly, they were able to use the confusion to rejoin the Domain's forces. The two had spent over a month unable to send out any of their reports, but now that they were back in friendly company they were able to give the officers a wealth of information and updates.

It would have been more useful a day or two before, granted. The expedition was far too deep and committed to pause for a planning session now, with every hour of rest adding to the risk that the defenders might find ways to flank them, or even to collapse entire tunnel sections upon them. The existance of Floor Eleven was confirmed, and the soldiers marched on.

Finally, early that afternoon they reached a juicier target. After breaking through a wall the Domain's earth mages found themselves looking at the mid-section of Floor Ten, the exhibition arena once championed by the Miserables, and it was declared that this would be where they would make their entrance. With only a floor and a half to go it's unlikely they could have found a better shortcut without spending another day or two searching in the tunnels, and that would likely cost them more losses than skipping half a floor would avoid.

There's only one disadvantage with this particular entry point. It's large, it's open, and unlike Floor Four it has netting, suspended platforms, and viewing stations placed all around the arena which make it a fully three-dimensional battle space. It's not as large as the forest above, at least, but there's no doubt that the dungeon will be focusing as much firepower on this position as it possibly can.

Thena, the Thriae from the Cavern of Webs, stands next to Pretty as the final preparations are made for the assault. Even at a relatively safe distance from the cracked-open wall it's apparent that the dungeon is making it's own preparations, with walls shifting and Challengers rushing about, and even Pretty has to admit to himself that he's feeling just slightly nervous.

For her part the wasp-woman seems amused. "It seems your sections and mine will be leading the charge, mrm? As I expected, I suppose."

"Oh?" The incubus raises an eyebrow in her direction. "We've barely worked together so far, I'm not sure I'd say that we make natural partners. Although your performance has been impressive thus far."

"Thank you." The monster slightly bows her head. "But it's not because we work well together. We are the most expendable. We monsters shall live again, and you...are just Challengers." She waves a dismissive hand in the air, and Pretty rolls his eyes.

"Is this anti-Challenger dungeon prejudice? Well, I never. And to be more precise, we are currently operating as mercenaries, not Challengers, thank you very much. But I suppose that does rank us slightly higher on the expendable scale than the Dragonlord's elite guards, I'll give you that."

Thena nods before glancing back at the soldiers forming up. "The troops have a few Master officers, but most are Expert or below. Does the army have no Supremes of its own?"

Pretty chuckles, finding himself somewhat eager to have a distracting thought at this particular moment. "Well, that's difficult. You don't earn much rank just sitting around in some fort, you need to go out and fight - which is hard to do as a soldier during peacetime, which is what largely describes the last century or so. The Domain does do some dungeon-based training, but not nearly as much as Challengers, and very few soldiers stay in the service long enough to earn Supreme rank during their term. We're talking decades of active, physical missions and training here, after all. Only the most fanatical tend to do that for army pay."

He gestures towards a vague area in the far rear, where the Dragonlord is positioned. "Which is how you end up with the Scale Wardens, more or less."

"Ah." The insectoid seems a bit surprised. "They are Supreme-tier, then? I've seen little from them thus far."

"Almost no one has, so it's hard to say." The Sensationalist chuckles. "Some say the Dragonlord has them go through mystical training of their own design. Some say their Challenger or army records, if they have any, are wiped clean to prevent espionage from finding weaknesses in our lord's guards." Having said that, he shrugs. "But I would say that I would be shocked if any of them were less than a Master, and Captain Yelene must surely be a Supreme-tier herself."

"A pity I will likely not live to see her in action then."

Pretty's teneous good mood quickly deflates. "...Yes, a pity, that. Speaking of our imminent demises, shall we discuss strategy for this coming assault? I expect the first five minutes to be the most lethal - if we can survive that, our odds get much stronger."

Thena nods. "May our talons be drenched with mortal blood before our forms give out. Tell me, demon, of how you kill..."

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