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Melody’s hand brushed carefully against the feeble wooden door; minding the splinters that crumbled off of it… If she was being honest with herself, the entire floor seemed to be on its last legs. Probably decaying with age…
Whatever was behind that door was probably far more powerful than anything she’d faced so far. That seemed to be the running trend with each floor she descended. It was rare that beasts had whole floors to themselves, though typically that meant the ones that did towered over everything else. Probably too big- too destructive- to put in a normal room…
The thought didn’t settle her nerves any.
Melody flipped her dagger in her hands once, twice… It had gotten her past everything else thus far.
True, she wasn’t the most well versed when it came to wielding a weapon of any sort, and the length of the blade was suboptimal when it came to striking more powerful creatures. But it was better than nothing.
Occasionally, she’d stumble across some other weapon, or some odd trinkets scattered in her path… She hadn’t dared to pick any up. The damned lute resided in this crypt. If there was an object of similar sort down there, she’d rather not throw that into the mess on top of everything else.
And besides, even if the weapons weren’t cursed, they most assuredly belonged to other people who ventured here before her. Others who must not have been able to make it out alive.
(The more she thought about that, the more she found herself examining a couple of weapons and items in her way... It was only a trick of the light. Nothing Dorian owned was abandoned down here, surely).
She had lasted for quite a while with only the small blade, anyways. Despite her usual talents as a bard, all it took was a little bit of practice to get the hand of… somewhat successfully wielding the dagger.
… For a brief moment, she hesitated (though, if you were to have asked her, Melody would have told you she was merely collecting herself), removing her hand from the door, grip tightening on the weapon.
There couldn’t have been too many floors left. Any second now, she’d stumble across him, figure out what was holding him up down there so long, and then drag him out of that damned place by the ear, if she had to.
The door moaned terribly as she pushed it open, and Melody quickly dashed inside, putting all of her focus into identifying and dispatching whatever was planning on killing her first. The walls that originally framed the door pushed shut, trapping her within the room. She barely noticed.
The peak of her concern was the odd figure which stood across the room from her, whom she could only assume was the beast she’d need to defeat if she wanted to continue.
There had been odd sights down in the crypt. Some of them rather fascinating, Melody hated to admit.
She wasn’t sure if she’d consider this creature ‘fascinating’.
Humanoid. Her opponent was humanoid, which both pleased and upset her to a degree. It was always nice to see something familiar in a place where the closest you could get to a human was its decayed or boney remnants. Though, at the same time, it wasn’t as though Melody was used to killing human-shaped… things, even if they weren’t truly human underneath their appearance.
The brute only appeared human up until its shoulders, in which- instead of a head- a large bell was placed, handle and all. Through a crack in the thick brass (or what she at least presumed to be brass), one eye could only faintly be seen, an odd, otherworldly blue in color.
In one hand, it clutched to a powerful looking hammer, a little shorter than itself- meaning the weapon must have been her size or taller. It didn’t look nearly as heavy as the armor the figure had on (or even just the bell alone), but Melody didn’t need to see it in action to understand it’d definitely pack a punch.
The one visible eye briefly flickered over her. A couple of skeletons behind it paused to examine her as well, ‘staring’ with empty, chipped sockets.
… The laugh that reverberated from the figure- bouncing off the walls in a seemingly continuous echo- could have turned blood ice cold. Melody had fought quite a few monsters in her time down in this unforgiving crypt, but not many of them took such… thrill in finding someone to pound to dust.
The skeletons rattled hollowly in an attempt to mimic the one in command, who- without further warning- tilted its hammer downwards in a similar fashion to how one would use a spear, and charged.
It caught Melody by surprise, but she still found the time to throw herself out of the way, watching as the figure kept its momentum- much like the minotaurs she’d observed prior.
And, much like a minotaur, it didn’t cease until it hit the wall, bouncing off of it with a CLANK of its (his? Melody wasn’t quite aware what to refer to the thing as) hammer. It grunted as it recoiled, whipping around (again, surprisingly swiftly in armor so heavy) to eye its target with scorn.
Dashing forward, reliable blade extended, Melody struck at the figure with a rather powerful swing of her arm. Unfortunately- aside from bouncing off her attacker’s armor with an almost painfully loud F’TING - nothing happened…
Despite the fact that, in hindsight, she probably should have figured that out before running in to land a hit, she stood there for a moment, struck dumb. A feeling of dread sunk from her chest to her feet.
… How was she supposed to fight something too powerful for her weapon to mark?
Her opponent took advantage of the beat of hesitation, quickly fixing its grip on its hammer, delivering a powerful whack to her side, the blunt force enough to knock the air right out of her. She should have fe;t lucky it only hit her stomach, and not her head- which would have certainly knocked her out then and there- but she was too busy attempting to keep herself grounded to count her blessings. She managed to collect her senses quickly enough to skid to the side of the hammer yet again, the brass beast pounding it into the ground right where her body used to be, chunks of tiled floor scattering in the shockwave of its power.
Over the sound of metal meeting stone, Melody could barely hear the grunt of exertion the figure gave. She didn’t think much of it until her aggressor grunted again, lifting its weapon from the newly made dent in the ground, clearly enraged at the way she weaved and dodged around him.
… Its voice didn’t match its figure quite so much. The brute was powerful, dangerous, and based on its behaviors, practically an animal.
Its voice was… very human in comparison. Energetic, confident, clear- even through the sheet of brass which blocked it.
Familiar.
And Melody didn’t quite like that at all.
It was why the laugh was so chilling, wasn’t it? It wasn’t a laugh that belonged to any monstrous inhabitant of the crypt... It didn’t belong to a monster at all.
It was his voice.
“... Dorian…”
It wasn’t something she really meant to say aloud- the thought somehow finding itself drawn to the breath on her lips, too quiet to be overheard.
With another swing of the great hammer, Melody was forced to take yet another step back, fighting the urge to dash back instinctively for another attack. Instead, she redirected the blow at a skeleton a little too close for comfort.
“ Dorian!”
It was louder this time, at least- the word bouncing off the walls the same way the terrible laugh had… And judging by the way her assautant’s hammer faltered and paused in the middle of another swing, it- he- had most certainly heard her.
Through the crack in the bell, Melody watched his pupil shrink. He blinked, and if Melody had strained her ear, she might have been able to hear the faint echoes of his breaths from within.
… The respite didn’t last very long.
Suddenly rekindling his previous aggression, he finished the hammer’s swing, cutting it through the space which Melody had been only moment’s prior. The breeze from missed strike gusted through a couple strands of her hair.
Seemed that alone wasn’t gonna do it, then.
Hastily, she took a few steps backward- one after another, reproaching the threat at hand. An odd sort of huff resounded from Dorian’s… ‘helm’ as he charged like before, an attack easy enough to avoid.
She watched as he eventually wheeled around, preparing himself to barrel towards her yet again. This wasn’t going anywhere… Briefly, with mounting dread, she pondered if she could get anywhere… It wasn’t as though killing him was an option; it’d defeat the entire purpose of venturing through the crypt in the first place.
Not to mention she could never bring herself to do something like that.
Knocking a shield out of the arms of a skeleton in one swing, and lopping its head off with another, Melody drifted to the side as Dorian gave yet another mindless charge. His hammer bounced him off the wall, knocking him right back into the fray with little downtime.
… Surely, if she continued to dance around his blows, he’d exhaust himself eventually, right? Other things down here never growing tired was understandable- most of them were undead. Reanimated. They had no breath to run out of.
But Dorian was human. In such heavy armour, with such a heavy weapon, surely he’d begin to slow…. And maybe then she’d be able to knock some sense between the crack of that bell of his.
Though he didn’t show much sign of stopping. In fact, instead of slowing, he only seemed to get faster- his obstinacy and rage seemingly feeding directly into his stamina. With every charge she dodged, Melody could only really feel her own endurance slip away- which was something else she probably should have thought about beforehand.
All it really took was one little misstep, really. A second of hesitation was more than enough time for the hammer strike against Melody’s side. She managed to keep her footing, but the force sent her stumbling backward, boots scraping for purchase against the tile floor.
The hand that wasn’t clutching tightly to her dagger flew up to her shoulder, gripping at the skin that was certainly going to bruise. It left her vulnerable to yet another blow, the momentum of the hammer’s head pushing her backward until her back slammed against the wall, the wind knocked clean out of her.
She was against the wall, and-
And… Dorian didn’t stop.
Dorian didn’t stop, forcing the pressure of his weapon further still, as if he was planning on keeping her there until he could hear every last bone in her body snap under the weight of his weapon.
She squirmed helplessly, caught in an ever tightening vice, dagger long since discarded somewhere too far for her to reach… Not that it would be effective anyways. Even if she wasn’t being crushed.
Leaning in, her attacker studied her, writhing under his weight like a worm caught in the sun. Aside from his heavy pants, he was dead silent, peering coldly at her through the fracture in the bell.
It wasn’t very effective to panic in such a situation, Melody noticed. Scrambling and gasping for breath did barely any good. Her ribs would break eventually, wouldn’t they? Under the pressure? She wasn’t quite sure- not that she could think at all, anyways, even if she did know.
Though, even in that blank-minded state of panic, the feeling of one kicking boot finding a notch in some specific plate of Dorian’s armor caught her by surprise… She didn’t marinate long on the discovery, letting her other foot find a resting place. Her footing left her suspended, the hammer pinning her to the wall the only thing preventing her from falling to the ground.
Considering that there was nowhere else for her to go, the force she put into the kick was stronger than even she expected it to be. Strong enough to force the figure keeping her there to stagger backward, the top-heaviness of everything he wore helping to keep the momentum going.
With the only thing keeping her upright gone- considering her legs weren’t currently any help- she collapsed to the ground. She twisted, allowing her uninjured side to take the brunt of the impact, simply to spare the other the pain.
Though it was a miracle she could focus on anything at all, what with the almost deafening crashing sound which echoed violently around the room. As if someone smashed a plate against the ground, but amplified about tenfold.
Large, thick splinters of brass littered the floor, like shattered chunks of ice... It was all that was left of the bell, now- apparently, its sharp descent to the floor must have been stronger than it knew how to handle.
Turns out, as unpleasant as it was to have your head stuck in a bell, it was about ten times worse for it to smash with your head still inside.
Sprawled across the floor like a puppet without strings, Dorian lied motionless against the cold tile floor. Alive- his rising and falling chest made that quite clear, thank god- but not even twitching.
… It was not one’s first thought to move while experiencing a sensory overload.
His head hurt. That was the prominent thought in his mind. His head hurt. A lot. Not only was there an awful ringing in his skull (to which he didn’t wonder why), but the sudden shift from darkness to light- even just torchlight- was practically staggering.
He couldn’t quite feel Melody’s stare from down there- as blinded and disorientated as he was. But he certainly was… something to stare at.
True, she was confident in the fact that Dorian was under there… But she didn’t expect him to look so… dead.
If he wasn’t breathing, she would have assumed she had killed him. Plain and simple. His skin was pale, and sickly- almost green to a degree- covered in unsightly blemishes and scars that she hadn’t quite remembered from before. A few drops of blood dripped from somewhere around the back of his head, red streaks tailing behind them as they slipped gently down his neck. Some loose shrapnel must have cut into him, then.
Carefully, she crouched to pick up her dropped dagger- which so far had done nothing useful for the entirety of this room- holding it loosely, but not putting it away quite yet. Settled a little ways away, she watched him, waiting for… something. Admittedly, she wasn’t quite sure.
After a little too long of him lying on the ground like a corpse, Dorian must have found some sense within himself. He shoved himself from off the ground (something he immediately regretted, as it only made the terrible ache worse), head swiveling frantically about his surroundings,
“Melody?!”
His voice gave a hitch of pain, but he quickly swallowed it, scanning aimlessly until his gaze finally fell on her. It was with almost delirious bewilderment that he came to the realization she was okay… In comparison to himself, she was better than okay, even.
He breathed a shaking sigh of relief, struggling to pick himself off the ground,
“Melody, thank god. You’re alright, aren’t you? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
Sheathing the dagger, Melody approached. Whatever manic, bell-obsessed demon had possessed Dorian’s consciousness could never replicate him as accurately as that.
“I’m alright, Dorian…” She answered, which had been accurate for the most part. Regardless, it hadn’t stopped his frantic rambling.
“I had no control over myself- I didn’t want to hurt you, I swear-! You shouldn’t be here- what-” He swallowed, taking perhaps half a second to catch his breath, “... What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you. What are you doing here?”
He opened his mouth to respond, left it hanging for a second or two, and then promptly shut it. It wasn’t a question that needed to be answered.
“It doesn’t matter.” She finalized, gaze flickering over him yet again, as if confirming he was just as sickly as the last time she scrutinized him. She would have figured she would have been more annoyed as soon as she found him again… After all the warnings she gave him, and everything she had been through to fish him out of this wretched crypt.
But she didn’t quite feel anything at all, save an ever present sense of exhaustion,
“... You look like you’re about to drop dead. We both need to go home. Now.”
Typically, when a floor had been swept clean of any monsters, a passage would always present itself. An exit of some sort. One which she looked around for.
And one which, strangely enough, she couldn’t find.
Dorian trailed her gaze, allowing her futile search to continue for a moment, before offering, voice rather meek- an unusual trait for him,
“I’m… not sure we can just… leave… Not yet…”
Melody casted him a glance, both confused and simultaneously irritated. If he was going to continue to insist on finding that damned lute after everything she had been through, she might as well leave him here and let him knock himself out. Maybe literally.
Though, when she looked, his expression was tense. Too serious to have been concerned with the lute alone.
In the span of a second or two, her blood ran cold again... A sensation pierced through her flesh, clutching to her tightly… It felt as though a drum was pounding a fiendish rhythm through her body instead of a heart. It was violent, loud. And judging by the shuddering hitch of Dorian’s breath, it was clear he felt the same sensation, too.
“Leaving so soon? I guess you don’t have the heart to face me.”