Garath felt great. He'd had a rough start to the day, but he felt good about what the day had in store. And hey, he even learned something new: never fall asleep as a bird. Noted. He’d never been the type to see the silver lining, but it felt good to look at things that way. Garath decided to try to do that more often, but knew he’d probably forget.
In ones and twos the hopefuls arrived, greeted by the Necrologist with an energetic ‘good morning’ and a cup of his Crystillium-Infused Coffee. The sweet brown liquid was appreciated by each of the eight guests on Garath’s clifftop, if their unintelligible mumbles of thanks were anything to go by. After half a minute, the stimulant began to work its magic, and everyone was wide awake. Garath took that time to relay the plan for the day and help each of them unlock their own Osprey form.
Not twenty minutes after meeting on the cliff top overlooking the ocean north of the Guild Hall, nine people in their new Osprey forms took flight, heading east toward their destination, The Rolling Deep. The journey was uneventful, but Garath caught a glimpse of two additional Vy’thishrak Emissaries moving over the landscape, just as slowly as Rum’bah. They were transforming the land of what, thanks to some reading in the Harbinger’s Assembly forums, Garath knew to be the Vy’thishrak territory. Garath wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but considering the already numerous alterations to the planet he wasn’t even sure if he had an opinion at all.
They landed near what had to be the dungeon’s entrance, a shimmering plateau of ice above and between the two larger Ice Caves. Garath wondered if he’d be able to keep his head in the game if he used his natural form to complete the dungeon runs. He was fairly certain he could keep a handle on himself. Besides, the new, stronger presence he felt as a white light near the base of his skull gave him the confidence he needed to try it. He could always shift into his Crow or Osprey forms if he started to feel himself losing control.
His natural form wasn’t nearly as soiled by the taint as his House Cat form was, after all. While assuming the form of the diminutive white cat, the Necrologist nearly took on a completely different persona. It was still his favorite combat form though, and provided a 30% reduction in Mana costs to all Skills. He wouldn’t shy away from using it in a pinch, but today Garath would try to remain in his human form, and avoid casting any additional spells with the extra cost of a tainted soul.
They shifted forms and had a short conversation, leaving Athios, Steve-oooooh, Sharon, and NickCarter to wait nearby while Garath, Raust, Fergus, Curly, and Andrea took a step through the shimmering portal. Garath shivered when his rematerialization was complete, now inside The Rolling Deep. He took in his new surroundings. Fitting name.
The Necrologist and his Party were in a landing area, not unlike the circular cavern he’d started in for the Aquawood Depths dungeon at the ruined mall a few days before. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all made up of the same ice formations that held the portal to the dungeon on the plateau outside. There was a single exit, a door-sized hole carved into a wall of white ice on the far side of the cavern.
The walls of the cave were translucent, distorted like a bathroom window. Garath had to squint to make out what was beyond the cave wall behind them, opposite the single exit. The cave was underwater, that much was certain. Inhabited water. On the other side of the ice to his right, a massive, dark shape swam by, its tail pronged with enormous spikes. It paid them no mind, apparently uninterested in the five people standing in the cavern only a few feet away.
His demons awaiting orders by his side, Garath waved Raust forward and into the dungeon proper. The Party’s tank nodded and moved to the doorway with his shield raised and the rest of the Party following behind. Garath had given a basic explanation of five-man Party dynamics during their commute and made sure everyone was reasonably confident in their respective roles. Because the Necrologist had one demon that was a melee fighter and one that was a caster, he instructed the Party to use them as positioning guides if they were ever in doubt of where they should be standing. Bill and Fergus followed just behind Raust. Andrea and Curly stayed by Garath’s side, a few feet behind the swollen mace-wielder with Handsome hovering casually to the Necrologist’s other side. Beyond the landing zone was a world of white.
Garath shivered when he entered the room, his breath visible with each exhalation. The temperature felt close to zero degrees Fahrenheit. He had to squint to protect his eyes from the sheer brightness of all the white surrounding him. The square room had low ceilings, only a foot or two above the heads of the Party, held up by columns placed sporadically throughout. It was a large room, perhaps the size of four city blocks. All of it a brightly glowing, eye-stabbing white.
He spotted four irregularities in the blinding room. In each corner, a light-blue platform hovered a few inches off the ground. There weren’t any doors or passageways that Garath could make out, so he assumed these platforms would be the key to moving on to the next part of the dungeon. After a few seconds of taking in their new surroundings, the Party noticed movement here and there between the white columns. The inhabitants, whether by coincidence or design, were camouflaged perfectly.
The white forms were nearly indistinguishable from their surroundings, only becoming apparent
