Ch94: Collecting Crystals
“Ugh!” Thea loudly groans, crossing her arms in an almost exaggeratedly pouty way. “You are just jumping on any excuse to not finish our bedroom.”
“Look, I’ll get to it soon. But we need some more quartz first. Bigger chunks of the stuff.” Krvavy replies with a sigh, absentmindedly packing some dried food into a pouch.
“Oh, yes,” the silver-blonde brat rolls her beautiful soft-blue eyes, “because we so desperately need more of those stupid crystals right away.”
“We do.” The Drakling dryly states, shooting a glance back at the bratty girl. “Unless you’d prefer to rely on the one single lantern we have to light up every new room I build.”
“And just how many new rooms have you built so far? That is right. None!” Thea heatedly huffs, her face scrunched up with an adorable amount of anger that honestly makes it hard to take her seriously. “My walk-in wardrobe turned bathroom is still standing empty! Right there! It is not even out of sight, but you haven’t done anything with it in weeks!”
“That is because we were learning what to do down in the bathroom near the hot springs.” Krvavy tiredly repeats herself for the... who knows how many times she has said all of this before...? “Do you have any idea how often that toilet flooded before we got it fully working? Sure it was just water, but I doubt you’d want that happening right next to where we sleep.”
“Ugh! Just be honest!” Thea petulantly whines, lightly stomping a foot onto the bare stone floor. She has enough presence of mind to not use too much force. The girl learned that lesson the hard way. Quite a few times, actually. “You just want to see that wild beast of yours in action! Collecting more pieces of quartz is simply an excuse for you to watch her fight something!”
Krvavy clicks her tongue at the increasingly annoying girl. “You’ve got it the wrong way around. Seeing how well Khalia can fight is the bonus, not the main goal. Otherwise we’d find something a bit more interesting to send her up against. Or I’d just spar with her myself.”
“Oh, sure, sure.” This sarcastic brat quite clearly does not believe that. “But then, if that truly is the case, why are you heading out now? There is no pressing need for these crystals at this exact moment.”
“There is, actually.” Krvavy tilts her head back and looks up at the ceiling, taking a very deep breath. “We need to properly light up the bathroom down near the hot spring, remember?”
“Ugh, you simply want to play with your new toy! Just admit it already!”
The barbarian turns and stares rather blankly at her brat. “Are you done with this?”
“No!” Thea angrily returns. “I am tired of sleeping on a pile of furs strewn over some moss growing on the rocky floor! Just make our damned bed already!”
“You do know that our new ‘bed’ will be almost exactly the same as it is right now, just raised up a little bit? Right? That’s why I haven’t bothered with it yet.”
“UGH!” The bratty noble girl groans in utter exasperation, raising her hands above her head as she falls backwards onto what currently serves as their bedding. “It is simply frustrating that you keep putting this off...!”
“Are ya two ‘aving the ‘bed argument’ again~?” Beryl playfully asks as she enters the room, wearing her tiny leather shorts and the rest of her adventuring gear. Hopefully the bits of bark armour strapped over her now bare shins don’t chafe...
A rather rude gesture serves as Thea’s answer to that rhetorical question.
As she so often does, the tanned Elf completely ignores that brat’s attitude. “Khalia is all dressed and ready ta go, my dearest love.” Her smile grows a bit more stern as she glances back over her shoulder. “Come ‘ere girl! Come on, let’s not waste the day away! Get over ‘ere!”
“Rrrhhhhhhn...” The Were-Beast woman’s upper lip is twisted into a snarl as she steps into view. Pure and utter hate fills her amber-gold eyes as she glares down at what Beryl has made her wear.
The ‘old’ deerskin loincloth that Krvavy only just replaced is hanging onto her hips, dangling down over her inner thighs and almost completely covering up those two expanses of toned, green-skinned flesh. Another pelt covers her chest, secured so snugly by some straps that stretch over her shoulders and the width of her back, thoroughly binding her large breasts in place.
Khalia’s hands awkwardly paw at that pelt top, clearly feeling a bit uncomfortable with how tightly it is clinging to the underside of her tits. But there isn’t anything she can really do about that besides taking it off. “Why wear this?” She gruffly asks the barbarian, looking rather annoyed.
Realistically, the Orc doesn’t really need to wear anything on this little outing. Those pelts won’t do much to stop a slime. But if Khalia is going to be fighting in close quarters, tearing things apart with her bare hands, then she will need to wear armour. Maybe not today, but eventually. And that future armour will cover up a lot more than what she has on right now. So she’d best get used to this.
Krvavy doesn’t want to see her precious puppy get run through with a sword.
Also, keeping Khalia’s breasts bound down means that the barbarian is less likely to get distracted by her. It just feels like a good idea to not have eye candy like that bouncing and jiggling around in the middle of a fight, especially when that fight is against enemies who won’t get distracted by such a wonderful sight. Is that a bit hypocritical of her? Almost certainly.
“Because I want you to.” Krvavy plainly tells her Orc. “Do you need more of a reason than that?”
“Rrrgh...” The Were-Beast woman grunts, awkwardly crossing her furred arms beneath her bound breasts. She isn’t happy about it, but Khalia is a good girl. So if her Mate wants her to wear this stuff...
“Alright,” Beryl claps her hands together, “are we ready ta go?”
“You have the lantern? And did you get what we needed from Inanna?” Krvavy asks, getting two quick nods in response. “Okay, we’ll be back in the evening.” She tells her silver-blonde brat, leaning over to give Thea a quick kiss before rising to her feet.
“Ugh...” Thea just rolls her eyes as Beryl, barbarian, and Were-Beast all head off.
The ruin feels both the same and completely different now that they have proper lighting. The shadows aren’t as deep and... it honestly doesn’t seem nearly as ominous now that it isn’t painted a hellish red.
A gentle glow emanates from the quartz crystals hanging like heavy amulets from each of their necks. That extra bit of light isn’t all that much, especially not when compared to the bright lantern that Beryl is holding high, but it does still help with making it so much easier to see as they descend towards the buried prison.
Beryl nervously nibbles on her bottom lip, fingers tightly wrapped around the shaft of her new, and rather experimental, weapon. Though calling it a weapon is a bit of an optimistic exaggeration. The wooden thing resembles an oar, or one of those long-handled paddles that are used to take pizzas out of ovens, more than anything else. Still, it will be more effective than her bow or a dagger. Especially since it is covered in Dwarven runes.
“Alright.” Krvavy breaks the silence as the rusted metal door, in all of its warped and bent glory, looms out of the darkness ahead of them. “Khalia, stay close. Don’t go running off. Don’t chase after anything. Don’t get too close to the edge. Listen to everything Beryl and I say. Got it?”
“Yes Mate.” The Orc nods her head, looking rather serious as they pass through the doorway, properly entering this buried dungeon.
Darkness surrounds the three of them... though not as closely as last time.
Beryl steps forwards, cautiously approaching the worn railings that separate the giant pit ahead from where they currently stand. The light of her lantern spills down into the depths below. “Ah still can’t see the bottom, my dearest love.”
“No, but there is something out there.” Krvavy points past the Elf at a shape looming out of the darkness. At the very edge of their light is a pillar, a tower, stretching all the way up to the ceiling. They can only just make out what appears to be windows and balconies on it, but no more details than that.
“Ach.” The Wood Elf clicks her tongue unhappily, retreating from the edge. “This is a... a {panopticon}.” She resorts to using a word from her more musical Elvish language. “A prison in which all o’ the cells can be watched from one point. Tha’ tower.”
“Oh?” The barbarian makes a curious noise, as Beryl seems rather convinced of that.
“It... isn’t a design we Wood Elves make use o’, but we aren’t... unfamiliar wit’ the concept.” She seems content to leave it there, but sighs upon noticing Krvavy’s inquisitive stare. “Now is not the time fer a history lesson, my dearest love. Just know tha’ my people were once persecuted fer stickin’ ta our traditions and tossed inta prisons like this.”
Krvavy’s expression softens. “And you are worried that we’re here to harvest quartz from what might have once been some Wood Elves?”
“Aye.” Beryl nods her head. “It isn’t the most likely though. Nothin’ about this architecture seems overtly Elvish ta me, especially since it is buried so deep beneath the ground. But... Ah still find it unsettlin’ ta be in such a grim and unnatural place... Ta think o’ the poor souls tha’ would’a died down ‘ere, trapped in darkness so far from the sun and the moons...”
Silence hangs over Krvavy and her two girls.
Without a word, Beryl turns and heads to the left, going in the same direction they went before. Since this is, presumably, a large circle... that doesn’t really matter. It should all loop around anyway.
The barbarian soon takes the lead from her Elf, letting Khalia cover their rear.
The only sound in the stale air is that of their footsteps, the soft padding of the Wood Elf’s sandals and the faint clicking of both the Drakling and Were-Beast’s claws on the stone.
Beryl frowns slightly as they approach the cell with the mass of quartz that may or may not have once been one of her people. She breathes out in relief as they continue past it. Most of the crystals left in there are rather milky looking, and Inanna wanted more of the clearer ones, so no point in picking away at that potential corpse.
The three of them pass by cell after cell, each one empty behind the rusted metal bars.
Krvavy didn’t really think about it last time, but not a single one of these cells seems to have a door. Just three walls of stone and a line of thick metal bars. So how did the prisoners get into their cells? The answer is probably magic, to be honest...
The light of the lantern shines through the bars of yet another cell, but this one isn’t empty. Much like the first, a mass of sparkling white crystals is growing out of the stone cot carved into the wall, though unlike before this one isn’t even vaguely in the shape of a person. The entire alcove is covered in crystals, looking almost like a geode as large chunks of quartz hang above what was probably once a bed.
“Still think that these are growing out of bodies?” The barbarian playfully asks her Elf, getting only a sigh in response.
Krvavy carefully looks over the thick metal bars, trying to find which ones will be the easiest to break. They haven’t seen a single slime yet, but that will almost certainly change once they start making a lot of noise.
“Khalia, break these bars off.” Krvavy orders her Orc, as Khalia is stronger than her. “Try to be quiet though.”
The Were-Beast woman simply nods as her large paw-like hands grab onto the rusted metal, snapping them apart with ease. It still makes a fair bit of noise, but that is rather sharp and quick, not lingering around. And Khalia is smart enough to gently place the broken bars down, off to the side and out of the way, only making slight thunking noises in the process.
Stepping through the gap and into the cell, Krvavy approaches the quartz while slinging the backpack off of her shoulders. Her axe manifests in her hand, the spearhead reaching out and poking at the mass of crystals. Predictably, there is no response to her prodding.
“Hey, Beryl, you want to help me with this?” The barbarian quietly asks her Elf. “It’ll be quicker with another pair of hands.”
“Alright, my dearest love...” Beryl sighs out, giving the lantern to Khalia before stepping into the cell and leaning her wooden paddle against the wall.
“I’ll break the crystals off, you just have to put them into the bag. Make sure to wrap the bigger ones in those sheets so they don’t break on the way back.” Krvavy tells the tanned Wood Elf, before turning to look at her Orc. “And Khalia, you keep watch. Quietly let us know if you see any slimes. Don’t forget to check the ceiling as well.”
With that the Drakling shifts her attention to the almost geode-like mass of quartz. There are a lot of really good looking crystals here, most of which are nice and clear. The only milky looking crystals are growing on the bottom of the alcove, where a body would have laid down to sleep on this stone cot.
Beryl is visibly relieved that Krvavy is ignoring those particularly crystals.
The barbarian focuses on the larger, more prominent chunks of quartz, particularly those hanging down above the rest. She uses both the spear and hammer portions of her Soulbound weapon, tapping at the bases of these crystals and breaking them free. The constant chiselling of metal on quartz rings out through the ancient ruin, sounding almost deafening compared to the silence surrounding them. But that can’t be helped.
Bit by bit the backpack fills up, the chunks of quartz kept secure by sheets wrapped around them. Krvavy hands one last crystal to her Elf as she decides that this is enough. More than enough, to be honest. They won’t need to come back here for quite some time, which is probably for the best...
“Mate.” Khalia suddenly grunts out. “Slime.”
Beryl securely closes the backpack and steps away, grabbing up her wooden paddle and quickly exiting the cell. Once out, she takes the lantern back from Khalia and looks off to the side, making a slightly unhappy noise as she does so.
Krvavy picks up the crystal filled bag and slips through the broken bars, sliding it back on once she is free from the cell. Looking to where Khalia has gestured, she sees a single slime slowly shuffling towards them.
The slime is not particularly large, its round shape only really reaching up to Beryl’s knee, but with the clear light of the lantern they can finally see its colour. It is brown. A gross muddy shade of brown, at that. Going by what Inanna told them about slimes, that means this one will consume pretty much any biological matter. And that it is rather weak.
Kind of disappointing, to be honest.
Fighting what is essentially a living puddle of mud feels a lot less impressive than a mass of magical goo.
“Khalia, do you want to have a go at it?” The barbarian asks, getting an excited grin as a response. “Alright, but do try to be quiet. So no howling or barking. Or laughing. And remember what I told you about fighting these things.”
Khalia rolls her shoulders as she steps towards the slowly approaching slime, ignoring Beryl as the Elf walks to the side to better light up the impending fight.
Abruptly and without warning, the Orc lunges forwards and swings a hand down at the slime, her paw-like limb slamming into it with a wet splat. Brown goo goes flying through the air as Khalia tears the slime in half, before bringing her other clawed hand down upon the remains.
In just a few seconds is reduced to little more than specks of muddy liquid scattered all over the place, which gradually begin to dissolve into nothing.
Krvavy is not sure what she expected, but she guesses it was that? Her Orc pretty much just wildly slapped a puddle to death. Not really the most exciting fight.
Khalia seems equally disappointed, and even slightly annoyed as she scrapes globs of brown goo out of her fur. “That all?”
Well, the Orc seemed to handle herself fairly well, so... “Let’s explore this place a little more. I’m sure more slimes will show up at some point.”
“My dearest love, are ya sure?” Beryl asks, clearly not the most eager to stay in this old prison. “Wha’ if the crystals break while ya fight?”
“Then I just won’t fight unless I have to.” Krvavy replies, taking the lantern from her Elf. “My axe isn’t the most useful against these things anyway. I’m sure you’ll do better with your, uh, paddle.”
The tanned Wood Elf places a single hand on her hip and cocks her head to the side. “Really now? Ah ‘ave never used a... weapon... like this before. Ah’ll basically just be improvisin’ wit’ it.”
“I’m sure you’ll do just fine, graceful and beautiful as you are~.” The barbarian flirtatiously reassures, already continuing along the path while followed closely by her Orc.
“Tha’...” Beryl shakes her head and sighs, hurrying after those two.