Touch of Fate 73 Descent into Danger

"Looks like the Crimson Disaster not only defeated your distraction, but found the ritual site as well." The shark-toothed woman commented as she watch the wave of destruction through the window. Even out in the harbor, the strength of Andromeda's strike caused the ship to rock back and forth.

She watched the events until a massive worm shaped creature plunged back into the ground with the Guildmaster in its mouth.

Turning from the window to regard the other two occupants, she continued, "I don't think I need to remind you, but if Huzan's ritual is disrupted, this entire enterprise will all be for naught."

"Fear not," Smiler broke in, "The most faithful of my followers stand ready to lay down their lives in defense of the ritual."

The woman nodded diplomatically, "That helps, but I don't think there are many forces in our arsenal that can withstand the full fury of the Crimson Disaster. Our best hope is to continue to distract her until the ritual can be successfully completed."

The priest scoffed, "She may struggle as much as she wants, but this is destined. My lord will break free from the shackles of his confinement and unleash his terrible wrath on this plane."

He stood and regarded the pair. "However, since this is a sensitive time, I will personally go oversee the completion of the ritual."

With that, he strode out the door, moving with a confidence and surety that belongs solely to the fanatical.

The shark-toothed woman gave an enigmatic smile as soon as he was gone. "Fool. I wonder what if must feel like to be that blind."

She turned to look out the window once more, idly watching as the ruptured corpse of the Leviathan Tartarus Wurm travelled hundreds of meters through the air before crashing back onto the ground.

"You know, Garl, even should this particular scheme fail, it will merely delay our plans. We'll succeed eventually, it's just a matter of time."

She glanced back at him with her pitch black eyes, "We have an eternity, after all."

Garl growled in frustration, "You say that, but it is not you that has to answer to the leader. It is not you that will have to reclaim our distributed resources, nor oversee that pull back of our forces in the face of the inevitable investigation. It is not you that has to wake in this twisted wreckage of a body every single day!"

Silence descended in the room, as the shark-toothed woman returned to staring out of the window. Trying to find the right words, she was about to speak when Garl suddenly exclaimed angrily.

She glanced over at the map in time to see a trio of green dots and a purple one disappear next to the entrance to the ritual site.

"Huh, they used their strongest asset as a distraction to allow another team to disrupt the ritual. An interesting strategy, but with an Oracle in tow, it must have been the best available to them."

Garl stood, now deep in the grip of a cold fury, "Even if I have to pull his soul back from the Abyss, I will make Nash regret ever failing me!"

He was so infuriated by the failure of his squad of Chosen, that he completely missed it when the next two dots, one red and one green, disappeared in the same location, one after the other.

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The adventurers descended in darkness until Mike summoned a small ball of fire to illuminate their path. Its light reflected off of the moisture-slickened walls of the passage.

The air was cold, clammy, and thick with the cloying scent of rot and decay. Only the sounds of their footsteps, muffled by the humidity, broke the silence. Descending down the passageway felt a great deal like entering some ancient crypt.

Before long the group reached the bottom of the staircase, and walked into a long corridor ending in a simple archway. Beyond it, there was only darkness.

Now they could hear the screeching, scrabbling noises that seemed to constantly surround the hordes of lesser demons, but distantly, as if they were behind some barrier or wall.

Cautiously, they approached the archway, Mike leading. As they got closer, the sounds of the demons grew louder.

Finally, Mike rounded the corner, and found himself in a large circular room with a high, vaulted ceiling. Judging from the worn and crumbling nature of the stonework this chamber had been here a long time.

He initially figured that it must have been part of some old sewer system, but then recalled that there didn't appear to be any such thing in this world.

The near universal availability of Lifestyle Magic meant that there was little need for the kind of complex sanitation systems Mike was used to. There were a number of interesting social ramifications that he felt would be worth exploring when he had the time, but in this case he had more important things to worry about.

A large set of wooden double doors blocked the only other exit from the chamber, and judging from the sounds of it, the demonic horde would soon be crashing through it. Glancing around, there didn't appear to be any place to hide, and running back the way they came would take too much time.

"Alright everyone, get ready. We're going to have to fight our way through this one. I'll attack first and try to cut their numbers down."

The adventurers fell into two loose ranks with Mike and Brenden in front of Tal and Sera.

Summoning his mana, Mike began the chant for Fireball, but was interrupted by Tal.

"Need control. Too much mana. Collapse ceiling." She said in her typical emotionless voice, although he thought he detected a hint of panic in it.

"Right." He agreed while straining the limits of his concentration to channel the thinnest trickle of mana into his chant. It proved difficult to control fully, since the spell seemed to require a minimum supply of energy to be completed, but he finally summoned a tiny flicker of flame.

It floated a few centimeters from the palm of his hand, straining to be let free. When the doors creaked open, he released it.

The tiny speck of fire flew over the heads of a crowd of lesser demons that was pushing into the room. With a subdued 'thud' it detonated somewhere further down the hallway, filling the passage with a deadly wash of heat and light.

While the majority of the horde had been dealt with, a few dozen had pushed far enough into the room to escape the worst of the blast. Although they were slightly stunned by the explosion, the demons remained a lethal threat. Or at least they would have been for 'normal' low ranking adventurers.

Brenden tore into the leading elements, sword blurring in broad eviscerating strokes that shattered their rudimentary ranks. Tal unleashed a hail of wind blades to decimate the remaining demons.

Only one of their enemies, a demon that looked a bit like a furry crab, succeeded in escaping the initial onslaught, but a swift kick from Mike flung it against the far wall with a splat.

Not for the first time, Sera found herself wondering at the destructive power of this particular trio. It was strange to think that they had only started adventuring recently.

Once it was clear, Mike motioned the group forward, once again taking the lead. With the door open, they could hear the sounds of rhythmic chanting in the distance.

Judging from the lack of response, it seemed that the ritual casters either didn't hear the brief combat, or where in some way unable to respond to it. Both cases boded well for the adventurers, as they continued as stealthily as possible.

The tunnel seemed to slant even further underground, and the air began to grow uncomfortably warm. Combined with the ambient humidity, it was a few steps away from being unbearable to the majority of the group. Mike, thanks to his Salamander's Cloak, didn't even notice the difference.

After a few minutes of walking the passageway opened up into another large chamber, this time it was clear that human hands had not shaped it.

They found themselves in a vast cavern which spanned hundreds of meters in every direction. Illuminated by flickering lights of varied colors and littered with stalactites and stalagmites, the room was filled with dancing shadows that bent and twisted in an almost hypnotic fashion.

Near the center of the cavern a haphazard pyramid of piled stones formed a crude altar. Dozens of humanoid figures repeatedly prostrated themselves before it, chanting an ominous hymn that Mike couldn't quite make out.

In front of the altar, a man dressed in ragged black robes was worshipping an idol of sorts, just looking at it made Mike uncomfortable. As if he were starting into some vast abyss.

Two, glowing portals sat on either side of the altar. Vertical slashes in the fabric of reality, from which a continuous flood of demons poured forth.

Sera gasped, and pointed towards a group of robed figures near one of the portals. Specifically, at one of the figures who was wearing a white robe embroidered with golden lettering.

"That's the ritual caster. If we can defeat him, the city will be saved." She whispered to the group.