A Dungeon to Each Their Own
~Part I: Dungeons of Oestemoor~
~The Madam Bruixa~
No One's Perspective-
Flames licked along the stone bricks as the two women in the middle of the room stood, eyes not darting from the other. As the huntress stood up hesitantly - her height still not going over the other's - pale eyes flicked over the armor. They observed how scratched the one gauntlet, leg guards and chest plates were, the metals mismatched. A torn, white band wrapped around her left arm - the woman's right - with dried blood splotched along it.
Her eyes then rested on the spear that didn't quiver, though tilted slightly as the huntress' left arm halted in its movements, right around the back of her belt. In her eyes, the pale woman's stare allowed a chill to creep up her spine, watching helplessly as it surveyed her opponent. 'That is, if she's going to attack me,' her thoughts wavered anxiously, dark eyes narrowing in interest. She didn't look well equipped to fight in anyway, she reasoned, her own eyes flicking along the thin, black robe that without it the woman would be bare.
"Why have you come here?" a quiet husk switched Tori's attention to those eyes.
Digesting the words that were in the language she spoke - although a slight, strange accent was laced within it - the huntress exhaled slowly, choosing her own. "You answer the question that I have and I'll answer yours," she murmured quietly. "Who are you?"
The woman's jaw moved, eyebrows forming together seamlessly as she stared at the Bellator. "I asked first and you're intruding. So I'll ask this again, why have you come here with that blasted spear and sword?" the woman seethed, her incising eyes growing fierce. Tori swallowed, eyes quickly dashing over the strange woman's shoulder.
"I've been sent here by the people to rid you for them," she answered after a few moments.
The woman sneered, white teeth flashing in the room's light. "So be it," she snarled. Tori was barely able to dodge the gauntlet's blades, baffled of the use of them - she's never seen any used as such before, besides those which had retired hundreds of years prior, all brittle. As the slick metal glinted in the torches' glare, she grew to believe that unlike the small discoveries in past abandoned dungeons, these were deadly.
Especially in the hands of the woman.
The more the spear was battered and chipped as they scuffled throughout the room, the Bellator realized quickly that her opponent was - in fact - a fair one. While it was rare for a person to even be able to back Tori into a wall, she'd always had the upper hand.
She grunted as she felt herself tumble to the ground, one half of the spear having shot against her shoulder whilst the other flown to the corner; Tori was grateful that the end of the weapon was the one that hit her. The Elken great-sword was quickly in her grasp, determination in her glare. The huntress felt herself subtly disconcerted once the woman only arched a brow at the long blade. With a sudden growl, Tori launched herself towards the woman, the great-sword hurtling down towards gauntlets. The woman's forearms came together in a cross, catching the blade. They shook with the force pushing against them; the woman had to admit, the warrior was strong, especially with the rather lean build.
However, even with the almost-admired strength, Tori's blade shrieked, its body slicing in two. The top clinked against the ground pitifully, leaving the huntress to stare at the hilt in her grasp. "My...my sword. How did you break it?"
The woman snorted at the question, backing away with ease; the gesture was more mocking than subdued. "An Elken blade?" Tori nodded slowly. "My god, I wonder how you've managed to live with that being by your belt," the woman taunted.
"It's the strongest blade in the century!" the Bellator retorted, tossing the handle away.
"The strongest my ass. The Elkish, though pristine in their works, used the worst metals that would better suit the topping of a bread." Flames began to swallow her arm once again, Tori staggering back. In a quick flash, she whipped out her small knife, mentally begging that the only blade she now acquired would be able to kill the woman, who she suspected was the beast. She dodged the ball of fire that was hurled towards her chest, scorching the wall behind her. "Now..." the woman scowled, "how about you stay still."
Tori thought of a different idea.
A completely different idea.
She scattered around the room vigorously, desperately finding herself in a corner. The exit was on the opposite side of the room. Closing her eyes, she whimpered quietly as a shadow continued to march forward. The woman gasped painfully, her steps scuffing back. Doe eyes peered hesitantly towards the other, blinking in surprise. The woman grunted, leaning to her knees as her hand gripped her right forearm uneasily. Red streamed along the gauntlet, pooling to the floor. Three, long scratches began to stitch themselves together, the woman hissing quietly.
Tori remained still, perplexed as the woman held up one finger. A small flame settled at the tip of it, pale eyes lingering over the gauntlet. The Bellator blinked in surprise; a red gem - which now glowed until the flame was extinguished - settled at the top of the right gauntlet. Five depressions were along the gauntlet, and Tori felt something click in the back of her mind - other gems had resided in those spot.
She jerked once a strange, white light snapped in the air, the woman grimacing as the long lines in smooth, pale skin was reformed. The bleeding ceased as it had before, leaving lightly-stained skin. The woman got up, searching the room closely. Tori watched her carefully, unsure as of what to do. Her hand glided along the wall, pale eyes inspecting her knuckles. The woman's hand was covered in dust, which was wiped with her other palm.
The two remained silent, watching one another. The woman furrowed her brows as the bounty huntress shuffled nervously. She noticed the armor that Tori wore, and how strangely crafted each was; none were detailed, stylized. They were half-done.
Realization had struck her, though, and the woman thought about the armor more. Perhaps, they were finished to the modern standards. Clearing her throat, she asked, "What year is this?"
The answer was slow and hesitant, a long blanket of stillness settling in between: "The Year of the Lamb."
The woman scoffed, rolling her eyes. She rephrased her question. "How many years has it been since the fifteenth Year of the Wolf?"
Tori furrowed her brows. The woman knew the Vorkshmite Calendar. At that point, it was the forty-fifth Year of Lamb: four hundred and forty-three years. The fifteen Year of Wolf was a hundred and forty-six years. "Is...is it the fifteenth Year of Wolf?" Tori asked quietly, a terrible idea dawning on her.
"Is it not?"
The Bellator gulped, mumbling, "It's the forty-fifth Year of Lamb." The woman whimpered, staggering back before she felt the wall against her shoulders. Slowly, she slid down to her knees. Nearly three centuries had past, and she couldn't believe it. A brick slammed into her chest, a fist clutched her throat tightly. Only weak, shuddering breaths escaped from between her teeth. Tori, as she gazed at the distraught woman, hesitantly stepped towards her.
Pale eyes swept towards her immediately. "Tell me why you are here, now."
Tori grimaced at the sickening tone, speaking softly. "The lord sent me to kill whatever has been slaughtering the innocent in the woods and dungeons for centuries. That's all I know. He told me of a tale of great, black entities that came out of the dungeon on Carnival, in the fifteen Year of Wolf..." she answered. Watching the hardened gaze on the woman's expression, Tori asked, "You haven't been tormenting the city or the forest, have you?"
"On that night, entities came into the dungeon... One was cursed, setting a spell over these walls. I could only see shadows, distorted visions of my downfall. They trapped me in that damned coffin," the woman grumbled, glancing towards the Bellator. "And then you got me out."
"Who...who are you?" Tori murmured her long awaited question.
The woman swallowed, an air of nobility surrounding her. "I am Madam Guardia-West of the Oestemoor Dungeons. Now who might you be?"
And the nobility wasn't ignored, or disregarded, either. Tori had heard of madams, a title given to very few, though brutally talented witches. Though, it was more that the Madam was well respected with the Dragon-Kin, and one which loyalty was definitely given.
She felt a hard lump at the base of her throat, which she swallowed: the Madam wasn't dead.
The Madam wasn't the beast, either, because there was none.
"I-I'm Tori Vega-Bellator...a bounty huntress." It was a true test of time for the Madam's reaction; no hint of remorse coated her gaze, nor did she glare at the sound of the profession. They were two from different times. Completely different times - the Bellator had only heard of tales as old as the fifteenth Year of Wolf, and only one or two were older.
She clambered to her feet before reaching to help the bruixa up. Madam West shook her head, reaching to her full height on her own. The woman looked down at her forearm, thumbing over the missing gems. "I need to find these gems before getting to the bottom of my dungeon's secrets. Vega..." she mumbled slowly, eyeing the huntress carefully, "how did it look, the stories above?"
"Er... The walls move, there's black entities crawling all around," Tori began her list, "there's rooms and hallways that completely made it impossible to come down here, and then there's holes in walls that make it easy to go into rooms."
"How did you get down here then?" Madam West questioned.
"Khaumbach led me to a small stairwell so I could make it. He said that the others were still attempting to move the rubble out of the way but the walls would move and prevent them."
The bruixa moved swiftly towards the sandy bricks that coated the walls, her palms against them. "In my memory, they never moved aside from very few on each level. Would all of them move?"
"Some would constantly move, and some by the hour, others by the day and many by the month," Tori answered, almost verbatim. The Madam growled, pressing her hands against the wall. She muttered strange words, which morphed into an oddly hypnotizing drone. As a reply, the dungeons creaked, moaning back through a soft wind. She turned around, arching a questioning brow over her shoulder at the startled Bellator.
"What's with you?" Madam West snapped.
Frowning, as she decided that the woman wasn't particularly nice, Tori answered gruffly, "Never has a dungeon answered before."
A sly smirk played the ancient woman's lips. "And what built those?"
"Depends... More so than not, soldiers from the war if they didn't find one."
"All dungeons built and managed by bruixa will live and hurt, heal, prosper. I've just brought back her immunity, and so she will be able to fight against the entities more effectively. First by not having the walls move."
"A...a bruixa?" Madam West nodded. "Oh, I just haven't met one before. They're really rare now. Especially with the war," Tori mumbled. "Do you...do you want to know about the war? Since it's long after your time?"
"My curiosity can be satisfied later." The bruixa appeared to have pondered on the idea longer, pale eyes watching the other woman closely. "Would you help me find them? Lead me along this world that I no longer know, and help me fight what I can't imagine?" Tori nodded, Madam West bobbing her head once. "Hold out your hand." The Bellator followed the order, grasping the bruixa's arm in turn. "Now answer verbally this time," came another command, the left gauntlet growing warm against tan skin. "Will you help me find the five gems that contains my soul?"
Tori swallowed, the importance of the gems settling on her shoulders. "Yes."
"Will you guide me along these lands, keeping track of the dangers I do not yet know?"
"Yes."
"Will you stay by my side, never to run away nor fight against me?"
Tori nodded, before quickly adding, "Yes." Sweat began prickling her skin, the gauntlet becoming white-hot.
"Until the promise is fulfilled, will you be bound to me, Tori Vega-Bellator?"
The question sat unsettled in her consciousness, the woman staring at her coldly. Though, she had promised, and she acknowledged the beckoned word. "Yes." Tori startled once the heat around her forearm shot along her body, gripping her right ankle tightly. The bruixa remained still, only briefly grimacing. And then there was nothing. The gauntlet chilled, and the clutch of one another's forearms was gone. However, the now lukewarm hold on her ankle wasn't gone, only numbing itself.
Madam West flexed her hand, sighing deeply. "Follow me if you want to replace that sword," she grumbled, striding towards the doors. Tori blinked for a moment, stumbling after the woman while cursing at the random brick smashed on the floor. The door creaked open from her grip - the bruixa slipped through the open crack - and the huntress found the other crouched besides the remains of the guard. "Herpinatious," she hummed quietly, her fingers dancing along the skeleton. Gravely, the woman stood, leaving a lingering glance towards the remains. "Poor bastard. He was one of the strongest," Madam West whispered quietly.
Flames nearly exploded from the lanterns in the hallway, the markings on the great door more exaggerated. The bruixa started forward, Tori jogging to her side. Torches along the walls came to life with each one of the woman's steps. At the intersection, the torches lit to each statue which stood at their own hall. Turning towards the rather smug statue of a cat, the bruixa led the huntress. Tori, while following the other, glanced over her shoulder at the other hall; the man in the crown looked too familiar.
"Open."
The command ripped the Bellator from her thoughts, the statue of the cat sliding against the wall. A door peered behind it. "Where does the other one lead to?"
"My sleeping quarters," Madam West answered, her brisk strides flooding through the doorway. The statue from behind closed, leaving the women in the dim torch light. The hallway was smaller, thinner; it was apparent that this was made for one occupant. It streamed into a larger room, sturdy shelves extending from the walls - some acting as barriers themselves - were brimmed with weapons, armor, tools and shields.
Ancient weapons, armor, tools and shields.
"Choose what you need and those you know how to wield. Some are enchanted," Madam West muttered airily, her strides flowing as if she'd only walked amongst the artillery the day before. Once the huntress turned, the other wasn't to be seen aside from a shivering shadow within a wriggling torch's light. The robe was discarded, and Tori set her thoughts on the intricate designs carved into the metals of each piece.
All looked appetizing to grab for herself. She studied the long blades, giving each several swings. They were light though unique in each way. One made quick slashes in the air, and would've easily been Tori's choice if not for the fact that the blade itself; it had been battered to the point it wobbled against the hilt. Another longsword was tested, and while it was heavier than her older sword - by some - the blade was in pristine condition. The markings were intricately carved as the wobbly sword was, though the indentations were not worn. The hilt bore a firm grip as it was lined with linens, then leather.
As the blade - which proved to withstand the test more than the other weapons - was thicker than the retired great-sword, another scabbard was found as a replacement, fitting between her shoulder blades.
Tori, with her choice of sword done with, glanced towards the armor. She merely replaced the worn gauntlet with two others, both well used though still intact. The leg-guards - which had been falling apart and required refastenings every other change - were replaced quickly. As for her chest-plate, Tori remained adamant to herself about keeping the nostalgic piece, even if the four that lined the walls were no doubt stronger.
However, with time to spare as the Madam was not yet ready, she found herself analyzing the other weapons she hadn't seen before. Some were curved knives in the shape of a hand, and others were small barrels filled to the brim with gunpowder. While very few kingdoms found the resources to use the powder, handfuls of the ammunition costing thousands of shillings, barrels and barrels of the stuff was squashed in the corner.
Steps sounded behind the huntress, turning her immediately. Madam West stood there and Tori knew she was a force to be reckoned with. Her dark, brunette hair was collected in a fine braid, gold beads placed meticulously throughout. A long, black coat covered a dark grey, carved chest-plate and belts which two daggers hung on each hip. The gauntlets with the black leather settled on her forearms, matching the leg-guards which reached to her knee.
"We best get to the surface before long," she muttered, walking towards the hallway. Tori followed without a word, twisting through the several halls before reaching the stairwell that had led her to the chambers. The Madam maneuvered quickly, eager to make her way out. Tori didn't blame her by any means.
. . .
Great flames ignited themselves from the torches around him, promptly startling the Dragon-Kin. Khaumbach whirled around, the fires dancing in his eyes. They hadn't reached the proud height for centuries. He was only able to light them with half of the height, which was a feat that Luana, Ludhiana, Fordicana and even Sikowitz acknowledged. The creature smiled greatly. "Madam..."
Quickly, he rushed through the halls, some of the walls sliding to the former place, resting as they had originally. Water still sloshed against his limbs, leaving his garbs drenched. Even so, he halted at the sight of two shadows making their way in the stairwell. Madam West stepped into the water with a scowl, followed by the huntress. "Madam West! You've returned!" he exclaimed with gratitude, immediately bowing to his knees in the murky water. Pale eyes swam towards him, a small smile playing her lips.
"I've heard you helped her find me, Khaumbach, where are the others?"
"At their levels. Luana and Fordicana are trapped in theirs... What about Herpinatious?" he asked. At the shake of her head, he sighed at the closed fate. "He died fighting, I presume." He glanced at the sound walls, mumbling as he got to his feet, "Did you settle the dungeons?"
"She shouldn't move any longer," Madam West nodded. "Now, find a way to get the damn water out of the way and have the other levels open. We must have the dungeons protected once again."
"Yes, Madam," he bowed before skirting off, eager to fulfill an order by his majesty. The bruixa strode quickly through the waters, sneering at it throughout the way. They moved through the level quickly, soon finding the entrance to the second floor. Ludhiana, waiting by the stairs, quickly bowed at the sight of her.
"Madam West... How long we have missed you," he husked.
She smiled before beckoning, "Get to your feet, Ludhiana, and help your twin drain his floor and free Luana and Fordicana for god's sakes." He chuckled humorously before jogging down, quickly morphing into a scaled, slithering water creature. "Perhaps he should've been in charge of the third floor...his brother isn't to fond of swimming," she muttered quietly. Moving along the floor - which had a confusing floor space when the walls weren't insane - the two soon found their way to the last, and highest, chamber. Sikowitz was found at his chair, gazing into the fires of the torches.
"I've always admired your flames, Madam," he commented once the Guardia stepped into the room. He quirked a smile before bowing to his knees, giving his respect.
"As always Sikowitz," she smirked. "I will come back tomorrow, it appears that Vega has business with the lord."
"Naturally," his glowing eyes set between the two women. "Now what questions would you need by tomorrow? I sense your troubles."
"My soul gems were stolen. Only this one was left." The gauntlet was presented, Sikowitz giving a small huff.
He nodded, murmuring, "I had suspected that. I often see paintings that the townsfolk have kept in remembrance of the Carnival. Each one of the beasts have each of the colors... They also took your sword, Madam West, the Raven's Blade."
"For fuck's sake," Madam West spat. Sikowitz appeared humored by the crude language.
"Now, on a side note, did you bind the poor girl to you?" he chuckled, his eyes to their ankles. "I've heard of trust issues, Madam, though I think you take the pie." The Madam didn't answer, only bidding the Dragon-Kin a good night. Tori followed the woman in brisk steps, leaving a lingering glance towards Sikowitz. He smiled, highly amused.
For long, quiet moments, the Guardia stood, looking out into the landscape. Much had changed while she was imprisoned. "We best move along," she whispered to herself as Tori became fixed with the view. The Bellator hadn't noticed that the Madam had left, until a low, harsh whistle sounded. She twisted around to find Madam West down the steps, watching her with an arched brow. "Come on!" Tori grumbled to herself - she wasn't a hound.
Even so, she obeyed.
They began to stroll along the grassy field from the mountain, a distinct distance between one another. Tori furrowed her brows from what Sikowitz had said, looking to her side. Madam West walked with long strides, her scowl occasionally morphing into a wince. "Madam West?" The older woman blinked before glancing to her left. "I- Uh...what did Sikowitz mean by I'm bound to you?"
"Do you want to learn the plain way or the fun way?" the Guardia smirked. Tori gulped, unsure as of what to choose.
"Erm, the fun way?"
Immediately she regretted her decision once the Madam halted, standing firmly in place. "Run. As fast as you can, run." The huntress only blinked, her brows furrowed. "Go! Just do it, it'll be fun." Tori hesitated before taking a few strides. She stopped, watching as Madam West gestured her to move forward. Sighing, the Bellator briefly closed her eyes before charging forward with incredible speed. The wind kissed her cheeks as the grass waved her away, the sun rising against the towers in enjoyment.
However, her right ankle grew colder as she ran further on. Within moments, a brutal, chilling force snatched her ankle, sending her to the ground. Tori coughed heavily, spitting what dirt had been in her mouth. She felt pity on steeds and cattle. Tori glared at her ankle before gasping in surprise. There was a glowing chain around her ankle. She watched as it dimmed, the light becoming invisible. Anxiously, she lowered the cloth that had risen from her ankle, covering the inked numbers, 19151, from view.
Madam West came to view with a wide smile, eyes glinting sadistically. "You're heartless," Tori scowled.
"Oh? Then you must balance that out, do you?" Madam West snickered. She was highly amused by the stunt. "Now get up, guide me to this lord and then we'll continue forth." The huntress nodded, easing herself to her feet. She wobbled slightly, her eyes hardening on the Madam.
She wondered how long she'd deal with the bruixa, and if she'd enjoy any part of it.
If she would find herself amused, it wouldn't come soon.
Vorkshmite Calendar:
The Vorkshmite Calendar was created by the Vorkshmite, and ancient people. However, the calendar was abandoned as another was used. In time, though, the calendar was repurposed, and started a new era after the rise of a new Psyche Daemon. It is based on beginning and end, only restarting every decade. Each "Year of [Blank]" is 365 days. Every four years, there is a "Year of Celestial [Blank]" which is 366 days.
Year of Dusk; Year of Dawn.
Year of Lamb; Year of Sheep.
Year of Cub; Year of Wolf.
Year of Fawn; Year of Deer.
Year of Foal; Year of Steed.
The years are often stated as "The 15th Year of Wolf." In order to understand, multiply fifteen by ten (150) then subtract four as the wolf is the sixth year. The 15th Year of Wolf is 146 years.