Mr. Glorious Buttocks has created a google doc for game ideas
When I finish this story, I will post something where everyone who's interested in working on the game can join in for a meet and greet.
No, Lady (Diana) is not Hannah. That got taken away, no longer canon. Yes, that was some semi-obvious foreshadowing, frankly because every story should have at least one obvious flag to cover up all the less obvious flags. Doc cannot control the Ooze because it is the forced evolution of an incomplete slime, so it has an incomplete core that cannot support his will. The most he can do with it is point it in a direction and let it eat. If left unchained, he would lose his traps, his plants, and worst of all, Claire's house. That would be bad.
Mary’s saber struck forward against the sword of a dread knight, knocking the skeleton off its horse. She growled as she was forced to dodge a cavalry charge from 5 more knights. As she rolled, her arm shot out and launched another saber blast that sent the 5 horses flying into the horde.
“This is getting bad.” She muttered as she used the moment of respite to observe the battle field. Ignoring her and the Father, everyone was having a hard time fighting back against this horde of undead. Before, the majority of the undead army was comprised by tier 1 and 2 monsters, something the majority of the town’s people were used to. Now, however, the tier 3 and tier 4 monsters were striking down adventurers and townsfolk left and right.
“Father Jonas, we need to make a quick retreat to the gate!” Mary called out.
Father Jonas, who was currently a dancing whirlwind of slaughter, called back to her, “I thought you were trying to buy time for your adventurers, no? Would that not defeat the purpose to retreat now?”
Mary gritted her teeth in anger, “If we fall here, the plan will be worthless even if they succeed.”
“Wonderful answer my dear!” Jonas’s face grinned hatefully as he stared the horde down, “Allow me to assist this plan!”
He put his hands together and chanted for a moment. When he finished, his wind armor swelled out and turned into a maelstrom, sending the entire horde tumbling back and creating a dead zone between the two armies.
Father Jonas, his face pale and sweating, cried out, “Everyone, retreat to the city walls! We’ll unleash fire on them with the protection of Duras!”
The adventurers and townsfolk retreated as the horde surged forward again, their moaning cries chasing the adventurers all the way back to the glowing dome of protection. The dome of light actually extended a little beyond the gate, so the army of life took their battle positions before the gate.
Friar Henry, who had healed from the back lines, teared up as he inspected the army, “So many lost, so many empty tents await the night.” He shook his head, “We lost too many in that attack.”
Father Jonas patted Henry on the shoulder, “They fought hard and died well brother. I am certain the gods await them in the heaven of glory or the heaven of joy. Shed no tears for those who gave their life for a worthy cost.”
“Shed tears for the living instead,” Mary piped up from in front of them, “We still have to deal with this mess.”
She turned and walked over to the elves who had joined the fight. They had shot blessed arrows into the undead army, but had yet to actually join in the fight.
“Are your preparations set?” She asked them quietly.
One of the elves, a male, nodded his head, “The priestess is with her attendants at the mother tree now. She awaits your call.”
Mary nodded her head, “And what of you elves? I see your quivers are nearly empty.”
The male nodded his head, a resolute look in his eye, “When we planted the mother tree, we swore to protect it with our last breath. If we run out of arrows, we will strike them with our sabers. If our sabers break, we will claw them apart. And if they break our arms, we will drag down as many as we can with our teeth. We are the protectors of the forest, and we will not run from fate.”
As one, the elves stored their bows and unsheathed their silver sabers; thins blades that caught the fading sunlight in a shimmer of beauty.
“That is all we can do.” Mary nodded to them as she left them and returned to the front. The army was marching at them, the undead having no need to rush with all the time in the world on their side.
Mary held up her blood red saber, “Now is the time, FEEL THE WRATH OF MOTHER NATURE!”
As the saber dropped and sent off a shockwave, the ground burst open as thousands of roots burst forth. They slammed into the undead, sending them flying, smashing them to dust, and piercing their skulls with rabid furor.
The adventures released a cheer as the frontline of the undead was shattered in a single blow.
However, as the roots continued forward, a hooded skeleton walked forward and raised its bony arms. An evil blackness descended on the roots, and took hold. At once, the roots rotted, and the rot began moving at a frightening pace back up the roots.
Mary cursed loudly, “IT’S A PLAGUE BRINGER! RELEASE THE ROOTS OR THE MOTHER TREE WILL FALL!”
The elves, pale and shocked, ran forward and began to cut the roots in front of the army. Mary joined in as she struggled to cur every root in front of her. The last root retreated as the rot reached the end, and the corrupted roots turned into dust right in front of them.
“A damn tier 4 plague bringer, blast and curses!” Mary punched the ground hard
Indeed, the fallen members of the undead army began to stir as they rose back up. Even the fallen defenders rose up at the call and began to shamble forward.
Father Jonas turned to look at Mary, “I do not know monsters like you do; what is a plague bringer?”
Mary gritted her teeth, “A plague bringer is a tier 4 undead and evolved form of a corrupter. It is a strong healer, but it’s healing powers can also bring back fallen undead as tier one puppets. That one, however, is a boss controlled by the dungeon. It’s likely the hidden leader of this army as well. As a boss, not only can it bring back any undead no matter the condition, it can also bring back our dead and turn them into weapons to be used against us.”
“So, this boss is a healer and necromancer put together.” Jonas mused, “As if we didn’t have enough trouble as it were. I’m guessing the word ‘plague’ has some meaning as well.”
Mary laughed darkly, “Oh, and it can bring pestilence among the living; can’t forget about that.” She stared out over the newly re-formed army, “Looks like we are going to need a bigger miracle.”
The invasion group collapsed to the floor in exhaustion. Even Falcon was bent over at the knee as everyone took a quick break. Having completed their mission, the slimes all left except a gelatinous slime, 2 healing slimes, and a grey slime. The healing slimes began to work their magic on the exhausted adventurers.
“Phew, these healing slimes are really convenient.” Fiora declared as she felt her fatigue slowly disappearing from her body.
Nat stretched out on the flow as a healing slime wander over her body, “Yeah, I wish we could take them outside the dungeon to use. It’s even faster than using a potion.”
“Hey, can I use the healing slime now?” Jonas asked from the floor.
Nat stuck her tongue out, “Get your own flour sack.”
“I’m never going to live that down.” Jonas moaned, placing his hands over his face. Everyone laughed, and Nat placed the healing slime on Jonas’s body.
Gran walked around the room, observing the carvings. “So, this is the original part of the tomb.” He murmured, tracing the grooves with his fingers, “I’m surprised you beat-men were even able to read ancient elf.”
They all blinked at him in surprise, “What are you talking about?” Anhel asked, “Those scribbles are obviously beast-man scratch.”
“They look like human to me.” Nat spoke up from the floor.
Falcon grinned, “It has been awhile since I’ve seen translational magic like this. The words in this room are enchanted to look like the language the reader is most familiar with it seems.”
“What’s it look like to you old man?” Jare asked.
“My handwriting of course.” He answered promptly, “No one else seems to be able to read it except me.”
After a moment of laughing, they got up and stood in front of the doors.
Jare pointed, “From left to right: passion, will, battle, resentment. I think 2 person teams will work, as too many would increase the difficulty.”
Falcon pointed, “Well that first one is obvious. Nat, Jonas, you two go through passion?”
Nat jumped, startled, “Why us?”
“Because you two are quite passionate I hear.” Falcon winked, causing the two of them to blush.
Fiora walked over to the door of battle, “I’ll go here with Jare since we’ve the strongest.”
Falcon rolled his eyes, “I think you and Anhel had better take resentment; you both know what I’m talking about.”
The two tensed up, but nodded their heads in acceptance.
“I’ll take the old coot and head into battle.” Jare spoke up, “Will, you and Gran go through will. . . ha ha what a good joke.”
William and Gran gave the black beast-man a dry look.
When they all stood in front of their respective door, Fiora called out, “Let’s go!”
They opened their doors together, and a moment later the doors close as silence returned to the tomb.
(Cliff Hanger, hanging from cliffffff. And that's why he's called Cliff Hanger)