The Fishmonger

The training with Ezekiel had born fruit. Mark had some small level of confidence with his abilities now, checking the skill later to see how it had progressed. Mark agreed with his scar-strewn mentor on the idea that shortswords were likely to be a more effective weapon for his skill set and, after conveying that to Ezekiel, they had begun training in that. They spent a few hours training intensely, even exchanging blows once Mark had built up a fundamental understanding. The levels came quickly the entire time, the training getting more and more advanced as Mark improved at considerable speed. Ezekiel had called him a natural talent. Mark felt bad letting him think that.

The air was heavy with the scents of salty spray, the bells and horns of work ships coming back to port filled Mark's ears. Maybe a few hundred yards up the beach, on a run in a chill, late fall night, Mark had met Imara only a few days past. Some sliver in the back of his mind felt like exploring the port and seeing the ships but he had a job to do. A cart sat nearby, meant to transport any large pieces they might encounter. He'd heard tell they were usually for the hearts of dragons. The Wardens had a habit of speaking loudly to boast so Mark heard many things. The scouts for the incursion had already returned, people with stealth related skills. They had reported a culling, as they called it. The smaller creatures that first show up had been devoured by a stronger one. That made it both more and less dangerous at the same time. The scouts didn't have any estimate, there wasn't a diviner among them. Mark supposed those were people who could use scrycraft, like Imara had said. In a way, Mark was a diviner but he was an oddity.

Inside the Gravezone around the marina was only a small number of Lurkers, one big one and his minions. Everyone would enter in waves to draw less suspicion, those best at defense going first, along with the ones who could heal. After that, the damage dealers would trickle in. Lastly were the porters, safely behind the lines of combat. It was an effective system to be sure, minimizing exposure to the dangers of combat as well as a large group of people suddenly disappearing. The powers of Gaia are strong but people apparently consider it a good idea to not risk her ire by disappearing into Gravezones en masse.

So Mark waited. The ones who could likely hurt whatever this thing was were trickling in at this point, the crowd seeming to slowly disperse. It was almost his time to go. It nagged at him how close he and Imara had been to stumbling into this place on their own. There's always an inherent risk with opening a Gravezone in a new place, of finding yourself in a layer of hell you weren't prepared to encounter. Shadows dwelling at the fringes contemplated the number of people who disappeared from the world, screaming as some beast tore them asunder.

Mark shook off the dark thoughts and looked around. Most of the people had gone in by this point, likely his turn around now. As he rose, intending to enter the zone, something clicked within his spirit and he felt the breeze die, scents fading to nothing as a grey haze took some of the color from the world. 'I thought you had to be experienced to do that... probably just Gaia fucking with me again,' he thought as he looked around. No response came but there was the sounds of battle. It was more or less what he expected. Chanting quietly pervaded as ranged casters focused on their tasks, knights in various kinds of armor standing at the front. The whistle of arrows and the screams of monsters. Mark couldn't help but remember the Battle of Helm's Deep, the level of fantasy be damned. The tall humanoid fish with a large guthooked cleaver, however, felt more evocative of Bloodborne.

The front line had somewhat broken down into a melee, Insmouth-esque fish monsters blending in as the edges blurred and attacks were traded. On the assault side, Mark found a surprising number of people who once seemed human before entering, now seeing them as a great number of things. That curiosity that had infected him regarding all of this was urging him to inspect all the new physiologies while he was ticked safely in the rear of the formation.

A shorter figure in plate was the first to catch his eye, gleaming in the half light of the Gravezone. Standing somewhere around four feet tall, a long auburn beard hung down from an open faced helm. They swung a warhammer with a head as large as the creature's torso, the shaft making it a few inches taller than they stood. It was unclear if the dwarf-like individual was male or female.

Trying to build his instincts without potentially giving himself away, Mark targeted one of the small fish people, as well as the large, boss-looking one.

Gutrot
A sub-aquatic species of roughly humanoid fish with similar appearances to trout and salmon.
Level 7
HP: 25
MP: 5

The Fishmonger
An otherworldly butcher of fish. I call it cannibalism even if others don't.
Level: 74
HP: 2300
MP: 90

Frigid waves of fear shot through Mark's body at the level of this monstrous creature, dwarfed in power in addition to stature. Mark was content to leave the big guy to the professionals.

Near to the dwarf was a tall, ethereal beauty with a bow, lobbing arrow after arrow into the amassed crowd of fish monsters. Their form and features were androgynous, a svelte anatomy betrayed by a clear display of power in the drawing of such a large bow. Waves of minions felled by wooden shafts whistling through the air, only to meet flesh with a sickeningly wet sound. The creature fell from sight, blocked by the press of bodies in the brawl.

Between the tanks, the supports, the DPS, and the porters, there were maybe one hundred and fifty people, all able to do different things. Gouts of flame and columns of ice could be seen being thrown around, along with more esoteric and idiosyncratic forms of magic. Bubbles that burned whoever they popped on with acid, someone dancing in a very formal and flowing manner as ice trailed behind them, even someone in a suit seeming to command several summoned elementals. The sheer array of abilities on display was awe inspiring and tickled that awakened curiosity Mark felt.

The fodder enemies fell as the team of Wardens and freelancers worked through them in an organized mess of dazzling spectacle as another group kept the big boss occupied. With it distracted like that, Mark wondered if he'd get even a small share of the XP from it if he did some damage to it. Mark drew the knife from his inventory and was about to throw his chipped blade when he noticed a group of the smaller fish-men had circled around, closing in on the back lines. He moved from the sled to make space and called out in warning, "coming from the rear!"

Mark didn't wait for others to understand what was happening, he had to slow them down to give time for someone to come sweep them up. He threw the mental toggle to activate Elemental Tap and ran for it. He was more confident in his skills with a knife but his blade was damaged. Hit and run tactics would serve him better to distract. As he approached the first of the Gutrots, planning to cut to the side and maybe try slashing at the thing's side, vines sprouted from the ground and blossomed forth, wrapping up Mark and pulling him back while also grabbing, and subsequently crushing, the Gutrots. Fishy chunks lay on the ground as Mark was gently placed back on his feet.

Looking back, Mark spotted only one person looking his direction. A green dress marked with brown accents covered her thin frame, auburn hair that veered towards brown rolling just past her shoulders with loose curls that just barely twisted the strands. One hand was outstretched towards him, green skin almost the same shade as her dress. The other was in a pouch at her side. Vines sprouted from her feet and burrowed into the ground in Mark's direction, coming up at several places in a wide area, most covered in fish guts.

"I, uhh... thank- Thank you." Mark couldn't stop himself from stammering, the power displayed from someone notably cute and diminutive making for a flustering contradiction. All she did was nod in response 'She's short enough to blow me standing but killed those things like it was nothing... Let's try not to get on her bad side.'

Ooo, goblin! You should go say hello. They're so cute when their feet dangle, held up by nothing but cock.

Mark worked to ignore the horniness of Gaia's remark while acknowledging what she wanted. She was god, after all. Or a god at least, he still wasn't sure about that. Regardless, he heeded the will of god and awkwardly walked closer to the short, feminine goblin. "Thanks for the save. You're strong for someone hanging out with the healers... Uhh... Name's Mark." He started to scratch at the back of his head awkwardly but pulled his hand away, working on breaking that particular habit. "You do a lot of these raids?"

Her voice was calm and held some note of distinction, like a girl who grew up thinking she was rich because she was slightly above middle class. "If there is one nearby, I attend. It is one of the safer places to be. I am strong because I must be." There was a deliberate pause before she added, almost as an afterthought, "your kind know me as Autumn. I will ask you avoid running in like that again. I would prefer not to have to fix your injuries."

Mark simply nodded, feeling bad for needing the reminder. It amazed him how quickly his sense of self preservation was altered in light of his new abilities. He kept his guard up, carefully slipping the knife back into his inventory as he watched for any more looking to come in from behind. None came as the boss was worked down, several different abilities being used, from lightning to floating rods moving at considerable speed used as spears. Watching with contained wonder, he idly voices his thoughts. "That sure is a lot of power being thrown around..."

"This is one of the stronger beasts we've encountered around here in recent years. I suspect they're throwing everything they have in reserve at the beast to kill it before anyone is hurt. It's a smart move, in my opinion." The green skinned girl was calm as she watched the unfolding chaos. Thirty or so people were busy dealing with the boss exclusively, with others taking care of the fodder and the rest being support or the small handful of porters.

'I'll be as strong as them one day if I keep going... I should do another dungeon, those were great for my XP.'

Mark looked at the secretive rewards curiously, eyeing them as the enormous Fishmonger was gradually brought low by the combined efforts of everyone the wardens recruited. A puzzle based dungeon was a bit of a surprise, what with all the monster killing in the previous one. Maybe it would be a puzzle boss instead of a pure test of his thinking.

While Mark was lost in thought, the beast was felled and the crash of its weight hitting the ground broke him free, quickly returning to his cart in preparation for doing the job he was hired to do.

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