Another Bloody Isekai IC: Team Heroes

[FearlessGnome]

It's a mild summer day in a little populated village in the kingdom of Eashen. An area the size of the tiny village itself has been fenced in and blocked off from civilian access. In the middle of that area is an old hill, a jagged hole having appeared along one side, leading deep underground, to danger, death and potentially riches. A dungeon has appeared.

Having spawned so close to a village it was immediately discovered, and heroes from the capital could be summoned before a single monster emerged. The heroes quickly explored the dungeon, and judged it stable and 'defensive' – unlikely to cause much damage to surrounding areas. It was found suitable to be a training and testing location for new heroes. And so, for the last few months adventurers from all over the country have come to the little village to explore the dungeon for themselves. Every few weeks there is a larger, international gathering of overseers and new summoned heroes who would prove themselves, and seek out a patron or make a name for themselves.

The day has come for another batch of potential heroes to be tested. For the experienced onlookers, however, there is something special in the air this time. The test overseers are provided by powerful political factions from every continent – often they send up and coming heroes, personal assistants or even largely retired senior members to oversee the tests... But today there are several people present whom most of the onlookers have never seen before, unless during some ceremony of state or at a far distance on a battle field. Their presence signals either rising political tensions, or – most likely, an unusually promising crop of new hero candidates.

Spoiler: Remiel, mercenary healer

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There is Remiel, a powerful healer, known for his terrifying experiments. Though he started out Human, he is now more amalgamation between angel and elemental than any mortal race and has an arm made entirely out of metal. His eyes glow with a searing white light that lacks any human warmth. Even so, he is one of the two most powerful healers in this world, and always sought after by those who need his expertise. At his side stands a terrible beast. A black horse with mane and hooves of crimson fire.

Remiel heads up an extensive network of lesser healers. Though well connected to most realms and many religious orders, it is ultimately a mercenary organisation that does not fight (Save against the undead), but which can greatly magnify the powers of those who do.

Spoiler: Death Fairy

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There is the creature known as Death Fairy, a tiny fey boy who glows and sparkles with all the colours of the rainbow. He is a Bard, and it is said his music can melt even the coldest of hearts. At his side stands Titan, a Goliath of great size, with metal spikes sticking out of her shoulders and back. A combat brute without equal. These two belong to no kingdom in particular, travelers and adventurers who have shut down many Dungeons on their own. They are here today as representatives of Tarbon, economic powerhouse and the largest centre of trade in all of Auricien. Though without its own official army, the various city states of the federation keep complex alliances and have contracts with mercenary forces, usually out containing or subduing dungeons, but always ready to return to their patron states.

Spoiler: Nightpain

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In the shadow of a wizened old tree stands a humanoid shape draped in black. He calls himself Nightpain. Almost human in appearance, his skin is pale and he wears large black goggles that hide his eyes from the sun and curious glances. A master of darkness is he, and he runs a school of shadow magic on the Plane of Shadow. Many suspect that he has some involvement with the School of Night, arcane thieves and assassins, though he denies the connection. He sighs a lot, and says nobody understands him. According to the other faction leaders he holds the record for most civilians killed by accident, though he refuses to talk about it.

Spoiler: Socrates

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An ugly toad creature stands near the headmaster, trying to engage him in conversation. Potbellied, unclean and smelling of fish, he is the only healer who can measure himself against Remiel. He is called Socrates, and it is not a compliment. An adviser to the great churches, he is an undisputed servant of the forces of Good, having sworn long since to live a life of poverty and integrity and in the service of civilization. A gentle light surrounds him at all times. However... Nobody really likes having him around. Whatever strange species he is, it seems to just smell bad. Even when cleaned to perfection with magic, it only takes minutes for the foul odor to return. He is also often sarcastic, and likes nothing better than to ask questions of promising young students until they fall into an existential crisis and question the road they have chosen. Though he often works with church leaders, he has been banned by every church, individually, from speaking to their lower level acolytes and worshipers. Never the less, for overseeing, judging and assigning new heroes, a great many churches that would never entrust the role to each other are quite content to trust his judgement.

Spoiler: Toohey

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Nearest the entrance stands an enormously overgrown, mutated gnome almost as large as a horse. This gnome is known as Toohey. He is the leader of a... It's not quite a religious cult, but it's something in that direction. In the last days before the fall of the Featherlands to one of the most destructive dungeons in history, the many desperate remnants of civilization on the continent turned to extreme ideologies and leaders to preserve a sliver of their old lives and homes. Toohey seized control over some ten thousand people and began a brutal regime, promising to defend what remained of their homes. As the malevolent energies of the dungeons were winning out in that land, nothing grew anymore. No crops, nor plants for cattle. So. With dwindling supplies Toohey adopted a policy of forced poverty and altruism through brainwashing, seeking to convert the whole population into saints and servants of the Common Good – using the vow of poverty to remove their need to eat.

Most of the citizens starved to death, but those who survived follow Toohey's teachings with a fervor rivaling that of any religious cult. Though no citizens in their land can have private property, they work hard to keep demons, undead and aberrations away, and have amassed enormous wealth for The People through trade of monster corpses and rare ingredients. Money that is spent on public works, diplomacy, mercenaries, walls and weapons. These days food is also imported at great expense to feed children, until on the cusp of adulthood they have to choose between a life of communal asceticism or exile.

Spoiler: Tathaln, king of Eashen

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On a wooden stage stands an iron throne. Tathaln, king of Eashen, half-elf and son of two great heroes greets each candidate personally as they arrive. Eashen has not been a powerful country historically, but the ruthless king has adopted a controversial policy of allowing many dungeons to stand, allowing his champions to close them down only when it grows clear that the malign energies they leak are becoming a danger to army and infrastructure. As a result the kingdom has gained greatly in artifacts, wealth and the power of its champions. Critics worry however that if the danger these dungeons pose has been underestimated or should quickly grow, the people will be the ones to pay the price while the king and his champions are able to retreat to safer lands.

Spoiler: Nesterin, high priest of the Holy Order of Dawn

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At the king's side stands the elf Nesterin, second high priest of the Holy Order of Dawn, the oldest continuous church in Auricien. Though the church holds little territory, it is widely believed to be the real power behind the thrones of every country in Abria – and indeed, those three countries have sent no representatives except the church leader.

Spoiler: Ilmadia, ruler of Teya

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To complete the trio, on the king's other side stands Ilmadia, elven ruler of Teya and master of its state school of arcane magic. Teya is poor in natural resources, but being the continent closest to the forbidden zone, magic is stronger there. Being the continent where new dungeons open up with the greatest frequency, it has adopted a hard policy of destroying every dungeon within its borders, as soon as they open. Because anyone may destroy a dungeon core without special permit it is very popular with roaming heroes and mercenary bands seeking riches and battle experience.

Spoiler: Delegates from Dragon's Jaw

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The delegation from Dragon's Jaw, capital of the Cracked Continent stands away from the rest. It is an unusual country they come from – a triple S dungeon as dangerous as the one that destroyed the Featherlands has poisoned most of the Eastern half of the continent, yet the deluge of malicious energies pouring from the gate has been mostly contained by an unholy alliance of ruthless spellcasters, cults and necromancers. Unable to take the dungeon itself, they fight and maneuver among themselves to secure as much as possible of the magic and monsters that spill out. Though the villains themselves have not been allowed to send representatives, it is widely believed that the rulers of the Western end of the continent are their puppets and tools, allowed to rule a sliver of the continent only to keep trade and smuggling routes open. The continent's main exports are magical artifacts, rare spell components and mercenaries.

The candidates introduced and allowed to mingle with the representatives, the details of the test are explained to them one final time. You may not leave this fenced in area except to enter the dungeon. You may retreat here to rest, or even request healing from the test overseers, but doing so will be factored into your assessment. You are to cooperate with the team you have been assigned. Your goal is to penetrate as deeply into the dungeon as you can. You may circumvent monsters and other obstacles in your path, but not if doing so would lead to anyone outside the dungeon being exposed to danger – though in this case of course the combined might of the overseers would be more than enough to subdue anything you could reasonably come across inside the dungeon. 'Dumping' dangers on the other parties inside the dungeon is frowned upon, but dungeons are inherently dangerous, and anyone who enters one should be prepared for the worst. You may not destroy the dungeon core, but if you can manage to reach it that will be seen as a very impressive feat. More likely however you will eventually come upon an obstacle you cannot surpass. That is not failure. That is life. Recognizing your limits is an important part of dungeon exploring. You will be assigned one overseer per team who will watch over your progress, and who will answer any general questions you may have. Specific questions about obstacles you encounter or the test itself will be ignored, of course. In the last extremity they may step in and save you if it becomes clear that a challenge is beyond you, but if they are forced to do so that will factor heavily against you in the assessment. Your overseer will also relay your progress to those on the surface, through scrying artifacts that allow sound and visual feeds to continually display for the remaining overseers and onlookers.

You are sorted into your teams, and given time for introductions, any last minute preparations and tactical discussions.

When you are ready, you approach the gash into the hillside, which leads down through a wide if low tunnel into what looks more like a roughly cut hall than a cavern. Lit by a number of torches along the walls, you see there is nothing obviously here except a chain link fence in a dark metal put down by the king's men. Through a door in the fence you are allowed into the hall proper, where you see... nothing, really.

Spoiler: For characters with Scent

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Though you cannot see anything to indicate recent fighting, there is a lingering odor of blood and goblin guts. You remember something they mentioned during the few lectures you received in preparation for this day. Anything slain within a dungeon is soon absorbed by it, gear and all, unless quickly removed.

At the end of the hall you see three corridors stretching out and down into darkness. Team Heroes is instructed to take the right hand path. Team Too Strong is instructed to take the middle path. And the final team is left to walk the left hand path.

[dragonsamurai77]

A large, imposing figure, human in shape but covered head to toe with large golden scales, walks towards the designated path. Taking a moment to sniff the air around him (Hunter's Stance), he pulls out a small stick, simple in design but brimming with magical energy, and attempts to call on the powers within.

(Attempt to UMD wand of Mage Armor: DC 20 to use it, nat 1 means I can't use it for 24 hours)

Spoiler: Rolls

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(1d20+13)[29]
(1d20+13)[21]
(1d20+13)[20]
(1d20+13)[32]
(1d20+13)[31]

Spoiler: Status

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HP 109/109
Spell slots:
0: 3
1: 4
2: 3

Bardic music: 6 uses

Maneuvers readied (* means expended):
Moment of Perfect Mind
Sudden Leap
Burning Blade
Shadow Jaunt
Insightful Strike
Soaring Raptor Strike

Stance:
Hunter's Stance

Temporary effects:
NONE

[dragonsamurai77]

A magical field of energy emerges from the wand, surrounding the draconic figure.

Spoiler: Status

Show

HP 109/109
Spell slots:
0: 3
1: 4
2: 3

Bardic music: 6 uses

Maneuvers readied (* means expended):
Moment of Perfect Mind
Sudden Leap
Burning Blade
Shadow Jaunt
Insightful Strike
Soaring Raptor Strike

Stance:
Hunter's Stance

Temporary effects:
AC +4

[kylelopezwms]

"so, lets be off then. Might as well just get this **** overwith." Bob sighs exasperatedly as he activates his globe of protection from evil. "Bloody bull**** is what this is. I could be working with magical gear, and experimenting with magic but here i am. Running into a bloody dungeon full of monsters." Bob mutters under his breath.

[dragonsamurai77]

I know not why we have been chosen for something of this magnitude, but now that we are here, we must do all we can to excel. I am Nabaru, humble servant of Bahamut, at your service. What is your name?

[kylelopezwms]

"names Bob. I'm probably going to craft your gear later to keep your sorry ass alive. Personally i would prefer we don't chat, as i think we are wasting too much oxygen. But dont mind me if you are wanting to keep jabbering." Bob looks annoyed, but speeks calmly in a somewhat soothing voice

[dragonsamurai77]

If that is what you wish, I will comply. But please, at the very least, accept this minor gift from me. Nabaru lifts a clawed hand towards Bob, and suddenly the environment feels slightly more pleasant.

(Using Endure Exposure, giving Bob an Endure Elements effect as well as immunity to my breath weapon for 24 hours.)

[kylelopezwms]

"Bah! Wasting your spells on me. Wasting magic......... Well thanks." *Hmph* Bob groans

[Unavenger]

Fey, giant gnomes, toad creatures, extraplanar assassins and actual goddamned angels do absolutely nothing to faze the perfectly average-looking human, decked out in plain clothes and with a variety of unusual but otherwise unremarkable tools. I flick through my shoulder-length, messy hair, and create a small negative-space light-show as emanating auras stop fractions of an inch from my person and my possessions. Even despite my pleasant demeanour - and if I do say so myself, quite pleasant-looking face - you can't focus on me too long, as though I'm not supposed to exist.

I look completely composed and uninterested, but in reality, even knowing that most of the assembled can't lay a metaphorical finger on me, I'm feeling more than a little uneasy. Wouldn't do to show it this early, though. I walk into the conversation in progress. "Just don't waste magic on me. I'm Micah, your resident perfectly ordinary human. Magic tends to give up and go home when I'm around, so feel free to throw whatever gribbly nasty things you have at enemies without worrying about hitting me. Oh, and if we're stuck in close combat, get on the other side of the enemy and I'll make them die."

I clear my throat slightly. "Now, shall we? I'm just about ready to start killing whatever jumped-up mutant animals they've got down there."

[Warmatt]

For his own part, Malog was mildly confused. This was not an uncommon state of affairs for him, though it was slowly fading back into a 'eh, what can you do about it' feeling. Still, he would nod, as he listened. Yeah, he didn't understand a lot of the more complex words, but that was fine. With a smile on his face, he would amble up to the pale guy in a suit. Was it like a set of cards? And was he spades, clubs, diamonds or hearts? Either way, those were interesting things to make clothes from.

Still, reaching out a finger, he would poke him. "You smart guy right?"

[Esprit15]

A hand clapped on Micah’s shoulder and a somewhat louder, more joyful tone drags the mood 180°. ”Another Earther! Awesome! I was worried I was going to be the only one from back home! And you actually look half-way normal! No offense to Nabaru, of course.” The girl is a bit above average height and, like Micah, in impeccable shape, with blonde hair tied back in a ponytail that gives her face the look of a student at a library, though the armor and weapons suggest that she belongs here at least as much as anyone else.

”So two gals, a grouchy angel, and a dragon. And somehow, we’re the least wild looking group. This should be... interesting.” While she had been somewhat scared and overwhelmed at first, Tara had made some level of peace and was eager to experience her second shot at life.

[kylelopezwms]

"Bah! Grouchy angel... Im not grouchy i just hate everyone. If i thought for a second that you could have made it though the dungeon without me i would have stayed behind! I have much more important things to do." Bob growls

[Unavenger]

"Heh, Earth seems like a distant memory. But it's good to meet someone else... well, normal-ish." I smile at her. "Ain't a gal, mind. Or a guy neither. But..."

My thoughts are interrupted by the yelling angel. I roll my eyes, and turn. "We'll be fine without you. If you're only here to make sure we don't die, well, go home. Do your important things. We won't miss you." I glare at him with a look that seems to hail from the void itself. "Plus, if you don't wanna be called grouchy, stop grouching. Being obnoxious at everyone and anyone isn't actually a good look. At the very least, grouch quietly, and say something useful, if you're able."

[Esprit15]

”Oh, sorry! They/them, then?” Tara says, blushing slightly. “And yeah, Micah’s got a point. You’re being tested here just like the rest of us, near as I can tell. I’d rather we got along at least long enough to get through our dungeon.”

[Unavenger]

"Got it in on... well, two, I guess, but who's counting? Don't answer that."

I take a moment to look at the girl. She's cute, especially when she's blushing. She doesn't look like an earthling, with her perfect figure, chiselled face, and borderline-fantastical armour, but then neither do I with my abyss-gazes-back eyes and aura of nothing in particular.

"So, uhm, you haven't actually told me your name yet. Or your shtick." A good Yiddish word, that, shtick. "Like, uh, what do you do, apart from prolly swing that sword around something fierce?"

[kylelopezwms]

"Bah, what do you all know. Im a bloody healer and an angel, you couldn't last a day without me to save your bloody lives. And when the adventure is done just WHO do you think'll be doing the repairs. Me. Only part of this bloody job i like. *Hmph*" Bob stares at the ground and grumbles to himself

[Unavenger]

"Ah, magic healing. Got it. So, completely pointless to the regenerating person who's literally a hole in all things magical, then? I don't need your healing, and if it did, it wouldn't work on me. Stick to saving your own sorry butt down there, angel-face." I wave him off dismissively; a few grand says he can't hurt me if he wanted to. "The rest of us will be, I dunno, actually co-operating."

[kylelopezwms]

"*hmph* dont like you one bit. Who cares about you anyways. i hope you die down there.... Well no, thats a bit harsh... I hope you get injured... Not too much, but enough to cause some pain! ...well hopefully not that much pain.... Still, i dont like you!" Bob starts rambling to himself

[Tyrann]

A slow-strutting rhythm of soft drumming quakes makes its way up the hill and stops near the podium to return king Tathaln's greetings. "Hello, pointy eared human king," comes a deep metallic baritone. "My name is Marambe. Is this your band?"

He looks over to at the other representatives and his eyes linger on Titan. "They look impressive. Especially that one. He looks strong. He would make a good gorilla, if he had more hair."

Then looks over at the other candidates. "Greetings, humans and other fleshy creatures with fleshy bits. I am Marambe. Why is that one" nodding at Bob "saying he does not like the other? It was my understanding we were supposed to smash things here together. Is the other not good at smashing?" Giving a confused look at Micah.

[kylelopezwms]

"i prefer fixing things to breaking them." Bob sighs

[Unavenger]

"Never mind the angel, he just hates everything," I say, before thinking a moment. Wait, a gorilla... named Marambe? That's a letter away... surely it's just a coincidence? Or maybe, given that it seems to be a robot, someone has a really sick sense of humour as well as being far too good at robotics. I decide against questioning it.

"I don't really do smashing so much as stabbing, but whatever. Doesn't mean I couldn't take most of you pompous lot." I flick my hair over my head. "Shouldn't you be with your group, making preparations, anyway?"

[Tyrann]

"That is an odd preference", the hulking gorilla bot looks at the deva that is now Bob, apparently completely oblivious to the meaning behind a sigh. "Are you here to fix the dungeon after we break it?"

Then turns to Micah. "I have a group? I was not aware. Apologies. I will go look for this group." And then wonders off.

After a few social mishaps, the gorilla notices Malog. "Hello. You look strong. Are you here to smash what's inside the dungeon, too? I am Marambe. I am looking for my group."

[Warmatt]

Malog himself would have fallen back into just waiting and looking after a few moments, seemingly entirely focused on the vampire lord... even if a casual glance of his mind would reveal that there was nothing going on at all, his mind entirely empty and blank. Yet, as Marambe spoke, Malog would take just a few moments to take in the shiny thing.

"People say Malog make friends if he smash in dungeon." He would be cheerful, a wide smile on his face as he faced the gorilla. "I in left path group!" All the while, he was wondering why the statue was speaking to him. He didn't have any of those special mushrooms that that funny guy said would make him smarter and he wasn't rutabaga.... or was that....

"You play Bongo in the Congo?" As he would speak, he would **** his head, eyes hidden under his helmet.

[Esprit15]

"Got it in on... well, two, I guess, but who's counting? Don't answer that."

I take a moment to look at the girl. She's cute, especially when she's blushing. She doesn't look like an earthling, with her perfect figure, chiselled face, and borderline-fantastical armour, but then neither do I with my abyss-gazes-back eyes and aura of nothing in particular.

"So, uhm, you haven't actually told me your name yet. Or your shtick." A good Yiddish word, that, shtick. "Like, uh, what do you do, apart from prolly swing that sword around something fierce?"

”Tara! Tara Wilton!” the girl says, extending a hand to the other human. ”I’m... a jack of all trades, I suppose would be the way to put it. Everything except magic, from hiding to punching, I’m a good hand at. It all just... kinda comes naturally to me. Guess I have my patron to thank for that.”

***

”Did Harambe just talk to us?”

[RelentlessImp]

"Who the heck names their realm after dirt?" comes a question from a brightly-attired creature with solid-colored eyes of a brilliant, neon green, second only in shade to her thick, nearly luminescent hair of pink-red-pink-red-pink in a fiery waterfall of constantly-shifting gradients. The fae is a riot of coloration, from the hair to the eyes to the iridescent dragon scales almost totally on display with her clothing - to say nothing of the bright, complementary colors of said clothing that somehow match with her almost insane coloration - including a bare midriff top-vest combo that leaves the patch around her navel exposed.

Shaking her head at the Earthlings, Cecie turns toward her own group. "Lessee," she says, tilting her head to the side as she studies her group. She points at Livia. "Protagonist, pure and good and probably more than a little naïve. And with hair like that, you've definitely lost the game of Who's The Protag." She eyes the Petal. "Hm. I'm thinking... tiny brute with a horrifyingly effective weapon. Nice to see someone who isn't... well, mortal." She smiles at Sundrop. And then her eyes fall on the kobold. "Foil, possibly? A bit of interparty conflict? Hey, just so you know, I'm totes down with the whole 'kill all enemies, show no mercy' schtick, so you'll at least have one person on your side when the inevitable arguments start."

[Unavenger]

"So it looks like we're pretty similar, apart from the bit about a patron to thank. What do you mean?" I vaguely wondered if it were something religion-based; I knew that this world had actual freaking deities who made themselves very obvious, but she just said that she didn't do magic. "And, well, the robot obviously isn't Harambe. It's Marambe," I said jovially, then more seriously, "Probably someone's idea of a dumb joke. Lord knows this entire world is."

I turn to the obscenely bright faerie girl. "Worlds are made of dirt. What do you want it to be named after, a dull bird of prey? A bunch of countries nobody can remember? An oxymoron of a star? A magical misfire machine? A spear with some connection to flying lizards? An attic full of crows? Honestly, dirt seems more sensible." I shrugged. "Ah, and I see you're the party's insufferable know-it-all who's probably doomed to the role of backup slapstick comic relief. Really, you should stop with your outdated genre stereotypes." I smiled at my own joke, and waited for her reaction.

[Ryton]

"—dugeon. Will contact when complete and my services are available again." As she finishes speaking, Livia tucks the small stone she'd been holding back into a pocket. She observes the others interacting for a short while with no real interest, until her attention sharpens as she catches a word spoken she had never expected to hear here, only to hear it repeated again.

She briefly takes flight, quickly closing most of the distance between her and the socialising group before landing gently a few feet away. "My apologies, my intent was not to eavesdrop, but did the two of you just say that you are, or perhaps were, also from Earth?"

Her eyes narrow slightly at Cecie's comment. "My hair was a perfectly serviceable brown before getting dragged here, thank you very much. I was human back then too.... And anyways, aren't protagonists usually sporting some legendary blade passed down through the generations? Or given by "the gods" or somesuch? No, I'm just here to patch you up so you can keep on doing all the stabby-stabby burny-burny stuff to get to the Core."

[RelentlessImp]

Cecie tilts her head back over her shoulder to the human-thing. "Hey, I haven't had coffee since I got dragged here. If my references are a bit stale, blame the lack of caffeine in this world. Bluh. What I wouldn't give for a local Faebucks."

She looks back to Livia, rolling her eyes. "Ugh. You mortals and your boring hair colors. All 'found-in-nature', and occasionally the color of something your biology produces when ill. At least now there's something interesting about the color, even if you are claiming kinship with these Earther things."


She looks towards the gash in the hill that is their dungeon for the day. "Speaking of stabby-stabby, burny-burny, can we get on with some of that? Not that chilling outside the fun part of the landscape isn't just making my day, but I was promised explosions. Okay, not promised, but getting to blow things up was definitely implied when I was called here."

[Esprit15]

”Yeah. Isn’t that what happened to you? Died back home, got yoinked here rather than passing onto whatever afterlife you were destined for?”

[Triskavanski]

While angels and dragons bickered and the like amongst themselves, there was a small calico cat sitting on top of a larger orange tabby. The calico wore an apron while carrying a frying pan and spatcula made of a shiny silver metal.

"Would you get a load of these guys Mao? How did we wind up here?"

"Meow."

"Albuquerque? No that's the rabbit kingdom.. No wonder we're not at the cat kingdom. Where did the map go?"

"Murreow"

"You ate it? "

"Mew"

"Of course it tasted bad! I the greatest chef of all time didn't cook it!"