“Go to East wall!” Erwin declared.
“Are you sure?” Finn cocked his head.
“Mhmm. Erwin thinks Charlie should check there, since Rodrigo not in main processing center.”
“That room is the one that might have an unstable floor.” Finn pointed out. “Are you completely ready?”
Erwin paused, tapping his scaly chin with a claw, then glanced over at the pile of dead Charlies in the corner. He hadn’t done well in the combat, having been forced to roll for attacks by Finn. While fighting the golems, Charlie had died 7 different times, along with the numerous times he’d died in traps and such.
“Erwin feel bad about getting Charlie killed.” Erwin said pensively.
“Is there anywhere else you want to go or anything you want to do?” Finn pressed.
“Hmmm…”
“If you aren’t sure yet, you can always choose another option.” Finn replied.
(If you haven’t checked out the other options, GO BACK and try those, otherwise…)
“No, Erwin sure.” Erwin said.
“As you wish.” Finn sighed.
He snapped his claws.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Time Resumed.
Charlie hurried over to the East door.
He padded carefully around the robots, trying to stay out of their line of sight. He might be invisible, but who knew what kind of magic was in those visors? They might be able to spot him or the magic aura around him.
Thankfully, none of them noticed as he snuck through the menagerie and made his way over to the door. Like the other entrance, the passage of time was evident here too – the stones making up the door’s frame had partially collapsed inward, leaving the door stuck ajar. But unlike the other entrance, this door was wedged open just enough for a person to fit through.
Charlie stepped forward cautiously, testing the floor as he padded softly over the rubble, skulking out into a room stacked from floor to ceiling with the same coffins as the last room, though in this one, there were stacked on top of each other to maximize the number that could fit in any given space. Inside each was a townsperson trapped in suspended animation.
Looking to the side, Charlie saw a large metal machine jutting out from the wall. It almost looked as though it was designed to have one of the coffins inserted inside.
As Charlie looked around the room, he noticed that most of the coffin dwellers were either female or in a poor state of physical fitness. Did that mean that the machine was designed to process those deemed unworthy of conversion into a more useful form?
Charlie wanted to examine the machine in more detail, but as he took a step forward, he felt the floor begin to sink below him. Looking down, he was faced with a multitude of cracked stones, each of which was roughly pressed up against its neighbors without any masonry to join them. And when he looked into the gaps between the stones, Charlie could just barely make out the rotten planks underneath.
From the poor state of the room to the dilapidated floor, it didn’t take a genius to realize that there was another room underneath this one, and the floor he was now standing on was being held up by a that room’s failing wooden ceiling.
As to why the planks were rotting, that too wasn’t hard to tell either. Looking up, Charlie saw dozens of small spouts of water dripping down from cracks in the ceiling above. Some of it was pooling by the far door, but most was just seeping down into room below, soaking into the wood holding this room up in the process.
Peering across the room towards the other door, Charlie realized that it was the blocked door from earlier. Not that he would have been able to go through it anyways – since the section of floor in front of it had completely collapsed, rendering it even more inaccessible from this side.
Then there was the moss growing up the bottom half of the door, as well as surrounding the hole in front of it. A casual observer would think that there was nothing special about it, but Charlie’s trained eyes could pick up the faintest hint of a red glow emanating from within. That meant it was poisonous, or magical, or just something he didn’t want to touch in general given that it was almost certainly a trap of sorts.
He carefully hopped to a section that looked to be better supported and scanned the glass coffins for any signs of Rodrigo’s fat form.
Charlie thought he could hear the sound of dice rolling but passed it off as his imagination. Then he caught sight of a coffin far in the back, up near the top of the room. Inside was the unmistakable sight of the mayor’s fat, familiar form.
It was, of course, also right near that big hole near the far wall.
Charlie sighed. Fucking Finn was making him work for his survival. And he wasn’t even sure if that threat had been real, either. What if he’d died, like, a thousand times in this dungeon and didn’t know it because Finn kept rewinding time until he got it right?
He shuddered, not wanting to think about the existential implications.
Taking some chalk from his bag, he thoroughly coated his paws. There'd be a lot of climbing and he didn’t want to slip because of sweaty pads. After this, he needed to jump across the crumbling tiles and grab onto the slippery glass coffins, somehow make those skill checks, and then get to Rodrigo.
And there was the other problem. How the fuck was he supposed to get that fat fuck down? Rodrigo considered him an enemy, he’d likely be disoriented, and he wasn’t exactly fit either. One wrong move on his or Charlie’s part and the entire town of Diamond Hollow would end up with broken necks and bashed skulls.
Honestly, at this point, Charlie was almost willing to just let that happen, considering half of Diamond Hollow were pitbull servitors of some evil Soul Magic user.
Actually, he thought, that was a card he could play if things got desperate. One dead Rodrigo and the army the pitbull was building died with him. Yeah! Fuck them, and Oswin too. If this fatass of a mayor becomes a liability, Charlie could just go nuclear on this entire quest area by slitting the mayor’s throat.
But then there was Veles. Would he die too? Charlie didn’t want that to happen. Plus, he would be failing the quest, and there was the question of how Finn would react to that. And that was assuming that Finn was even calling himself Finn anymore. When they’d talked, it felt like Finn was in the same situation that Gregory had been – trapped in a body whose personality was overtaking him.
Would the dragon that Finn had become view failing as quest as a loss equivalent to death? Or perhaps he’d just become enraged that Charlie had screwed up his narrative arc and decide to punish him for that?
And despite all of that, there was something else too. Charlie despised failure. He’d come to this world knowing full well what might happen. He’d made that choice because he had wanted to win, and so far he’d been doing a pretty good job of exactly that. No reason to break his streak now.
Taking a running leap, he sailed over the sagging tiles and landed on the side of a coffin, setting it swinging on the meat hook.
He desperately scrabbled for a handhold on the side and managed to hold himself in place through muscle contraction alone.
Taking deep breaths through his nose, he braced himself and leapt up, catching the next coffin.
Then the next and the next.
His arms were growing tired when he finally grabbed the top coffin and rolled on top of it.
Charlie lay there in the cool dark and panted. His arms burned from the exertion of just getting here, and this body might as well be an Olympic athlete. There was no way Rodrigo would be able to do this kind of stuff to get down.
Taking stock of his supplies, he noticed that he had a coil of rope, so he could probably… yes, he could tie it off on the meat-hooks the coffins dangled from. Then he would lower the fat shit to a stable section of floor and descend after him.
Now, knowing Rodrigo was an evil snake, he had to take into account the immediate betrayal he’d likely suffer.
Oh! He’d just knot the rope around Rodrigo’s waist and not tell him how to undo it until Charlie was already safely down. Rodrigo probably only had a knife on him, so Charlie would relieve him of that before he hoisted him out of the coffin.
Or… could he lower the coffin itself down?
No, they felt heavy, and Rodrigo was a hefty boy already. Maybe if he had a few other people in here, they could figure out a way to do this. But, honestly, he just wanted Rodrigo back with the party now. Then they could take a rest, let Veles recharge his spells, and face the Soul Magic user on equal-ish footing.
His breathing finally calmed, Charlie squirmed across the coffins over to Rodrigo’s.
There he was, slumbering away. Taking out his knife, Charlie pried the lid off the same way he’d seen the golems do. As Rodrigo slumped forward, Charlie caught him and quickly tied a rope around him. Then he pulled him up-
The meat-hook on the coffin creaked ominously.
Charlie looked up and could only watch in horror as the metal began to bend. There wasn’t enough time, he couldn’t MOVE-
A bolt *pinged* from the meat-hook and the coffin juddered.
Thinking quickly, Charlie swung himself into the coffin, shoving Rodrigo to one side, and slammed the lid, trapping them both together.
With a loud, metallic twang, the meat-hook snapped. The coffin hit the one below it, knocking it loose. Charlie slammed around the coffin as it knocked more and more townspeople down into the chasm below. And then they were free-falling.
Charlie braced himself against the walls and cradled Rodrigo tight to his chest as the coffin whistled into the darkness below.
He saw the rocks far below rush up to meet them and prayed it wouldn’t hurt too much.
Then everything went dark.