Lavinia strolls down the edge of the stream, turning her attention from the clatter of bones contaminating it and its surroundings to the opening, the cave ahead of her. This is it. This is where she was born.
Bones are scattered everywhere, past where she vaguely recalls waking up for the last time as a wilding demon. Where the GroveStaff stabbed the earth and shackled her ankle once upon a time— it upset her that she fails to return with it. The bones aren't unique past their smaller or larger sizes, each of them belonging to the same species— human. What could have happened here for so many of them to perish in such clusters?
Lavinia doesn’t let herself think too much about it as she crosses over and kicks aside the bones. She knows only one thing, one being capable of such thorough executions; Henry Vanavil. Their bones told not of how they died but only that they did, still, she suspects only a the [Soul Reaver] could have wreaked such death upon his own kind en masse.
A soft growl calls her attention. Beside the cave entrance— the one now lit up in bright thrumming red rather than the soothing blue lights from the moss and crystals sticking out its walls— are three Sniffers, or rather, [Source Guide] as she learned some time ago. Their three section mouths split and water as they posture against her approach. She scowls, bares her fangs and flares with Essence and the lot of them scamper away, frightened by Lavinia’s heights of power.
She scans the dried up, fractured and broken pieces of human remains once more, sparing the scurrying Sniffers a glance as they venture out into the dark abyss of the world she returns from, she wishes them luck, knowing where they’re headed to will not hesitate to hunt them down as she has. She ventures up into the cave, studying the forever unnerving manner the stream travels upwards, its body reflecting the pulsating red lights of the cave crystals as she reaches the first room.
She barely remembers being here. The stream pools into a shallow lake at the centre of the silent, cavernous room lit up by its luminescent crystals. Lucy and Ken must have carried her past here after they’d turned her into a familiar and subjugated her will.
Three unmarked paths lead out into the rest of the cave, or rather Dungeon as the humans so often called it. Here Lavinia grinds away at her teeth— how would she know what path Lucy and Ken took? The paths that led them to their camp and then to their unfortunate ends.
Lavinia slouches through the lake, summoning Essence to her eyes as she commands, “Inspect.”
The Perk doesn’t tell her any more than she already knows. Stones, lake, light crystal. However, it does colour the strange power Lucy and the Casters she met held in a blue wisping trail. Since investing in [INT] Lavinia’s become acutely aware of the various powers suffusing the air around her; Essence it seems isn’t the only prevalent force in this world and it goes doubly so within these dungeons as she Essence is scarce while Mana dominates.
Lavinia studies each trail of which there are many but all run through one of three of the paths presented to her. She wishes she could recognize Lucy’s mana trail if at all such a thing could be possible. But even if it were and these trails acted anything like scents, then it’s possible Lucy’s trail has long since diffused from the caves. Lavinia notes with interest that only a handful of trails ever come out from the paths and journey out the way she’s come, yet so many do the opposite. With some effort she discerns the path threaded the most, the middle path, and decides to take it as she steels herself for encounters with humans and their subjugating ilk.
Drained of her appetite Lavinia reminds herself to keep her distance where possible. Of all her encounters with humans, only one has been amicable. Jeriko. She recalls the charming chosen and his patient smile, wondering if any of the bones she’s passed by and crushed beneath her feet belonged to he and his team. It’s possible.
The middle path is wider than the path leading up to the lake room and so she’s grateful for the easier time traversing through it as it spits her out atop a balcony not too dissimilar to the one Lucy and Ken made camp on. Though she notes the uneaten pot of reptile soup Lucy is nowhere to be seen, instead the balcony overlooks the wider cavern and provides a short place for rest if the laid mats and scattered clothes are any indication.
The scents on the clothes are worn out, likely having been there for ages judging by how dust and dirt rained from atop the caverns ceiling have settled on them. Beyond the small space for rest all that’s left is a narrow and broken winding path that leads up and down the cavern walls where stony posts like the one hosting the clothes and mats stick out. Below it all, at the bottom is a field of obsidian, soaked flora budding luminescent bugs and flies in a maze of earth and crystal.
A podium stands at the end of the maze with a bright, ethereal light with no apparent source shining on the tall spire that from where she stands, looks like it held something. Something the humans clearly wanted because as Lavinia descends by the narrow path etched to the wall she defines more human remains scattered throughout the maze. These ones still held onto their weapons, armour, and even bags as they vied with their last breaths for whatever the podium holds.
The sight sends a chill through Lavinia as she recalls Henry’s last words, his declaration to conquer some unknown realm and the veneration the Berserker that killed Ken. They called themselves chosen. Chosen for what? Already the pit that swallowed her appetite begins to gnaw at her resolve to continue the journey.
Lavinia sends a small flare of Essence through her being, letting it invigorate her as she abandons the slow crawl of caution climbing down the shambling steep. She leaps out, clawing the wall and kicking off it to land atop the terrace below. She notes another path leading out behind her, its entrance surely different than the one she came in. She ignores it; whatever collects the paths and entrances to this room, this maze, it means there’s no way out but through.
She kicks off running again, clawing at the wall as she descends, putting the boots Seraph equipped her with through the time of its life as more of its substance wears away with drag. She ignores it as well, if it needs to be replaced there are many corpses to pick from below. She lands atop another terrace and continues her grind down, finding each terrace falls diagonally to the other until she’s at the last and closest to the maze. She leaps off without burdening her claws, stumbling into the maze, rolling with her fall as she surges Essence through her body to guard and protect from undue scraps and injury.
With a huff she stands and dusts herself off, checking her boot to secure her precious three Crimson Crystals before staring up at the heights she’s descended. No going back now.
Lavinia trudges onward, her ears perked for survivors— if any— and threats. Something killed all these humans. Not only are they still complete in their garbs and left with their weapons, most haven’t been disturbed in the manner Lavinia knows humans to kill themselves. So few have swords stabbing through their hearts or whips tied around their necks but a large majority are left with shattered skulls, blown out ribcages and split torsos. A monster did this.
Lavinia would know having destroyed a number of her enemies in similar fashion. She wields a dagger but so rarely does it claim the kills her claws and fangs dominate. She expands her senses outwards, growing cautious with the silence of the cavern only disturbed by the soft plops of water dripping from the ceiling on high, a ceiling she can barely see even in the luminous cavern. She takes a good, deep sniff of the air and cringes at a stench, a fermentation of sweat and flesh unbathed. Whatever killed these humans still prowls the maze. Still hunts.
As though the monster senses her sense it, a guttural bellowing fills the cavern as it roars, challenging her to come, to find it before it finds her. Lavinia licks her lips and fishes out her dagger, “I’m getting hungry anyway.”
