End of a Line

The three adventurers walked deeper into the cave, guided by the map that they got from Soxart. The rooms were all unlabeled on the map, but the layout was very linear, so it wasn't easy to get lost. However, this also meant there wouldn't be anywhere to hide if they were pursued. Still, they traveled further until they reached the next large room.

It was the remnants of a battleground. Bullet holes dotted the room, all around the floors and walls. Scorch marks left behind on the rocks contrasted the earthen stone. Bits and pieces of other robots were scattered around the room, all of which seemed to have been riddled with holes. Splashes and sprays of blood were streaked across the ground, most of which lead out into the next hallway.

"What happened here?" Garrett asked, looking around at the carnage.

"It would appear that a heavy battle occurred here," Plex said, scanning around the room. "I am detecting a decent amount of blood around here, but no sign of Cerezie's body nor the fire robot that pursued her."

"She must have kept going on," Vanessa said, noticing the blood trail. "Oh, but this battle scene is so picturesque!" She reached into her apron and pulled out a small sketchbook, drawing in it with her paintbrush. "Just imagine the fight! The action! The struggles! All hallmarks of a wonderful scene just begging to be captured forever!"

"Well we can hear the whole thing from the horse's mouth when we find Cerezie," Garrett said, approaching the next tunnel entrance. "She might be dying and need us."

"Certainly," Plex said, but then tilted its head, "But, Cerezie is an elf. What is a horse?"

"Wait, what?" Garrett said, getting the sudden reminder that Asuria wasn't exactly Earth. "Oh, uh, nevermind. It's an Illiman figure of speech."

"Ah, I see," Plex said. "Then let us continue on to finding Cerezie. There are only two more rooms left on the map. She has to be in one of them."

"Alright, come on, Vanessa," Garrett said, pulling Vanessa by her apron.

"But the scene! She begs to be recorded!" Vanessa protested but reluctantly went along. "Fine, I guess I can wait until we meet Cerezie, but I am recording down the scene. It is too picturesque to not be saved."

The trio of adventurers continued down, the scars of the battle increasing in frequency along the sides of the wall. The blood became less and less clear, evaporated and scorched from flames. They hurried along until the light of the next room came into view.

There, slumped against a minecart, was a female elf. By her side was a large sniper rifle and a small dried pool of blood. Her body was burnt in patches, the miltary-like uniform showing clear signs of battle. Her eyes were closed and her face was covered with ash and soot. As they got closer, they could see that her breath was labored, but it was there.

"Cerezie!" Garrett rushed over to her side, checking for her pulse. She winced slightly as he put his fingers against her. "Sorry."

"She is still alive," Plex said, scanning her body. "However, she has sustained substantial wounds. We must get her medical treatment."

"Vanessa, can you make some kind of healing potion or something?" Garrett asked, thinking back to her bombs.

"I'll see what I can do," Vanessa said, pulling her brush out of her apron. She ripped a page out of her sketchbook and began to paint onto it. She folded it up and stuck it inside of Cerezie's mouth. "On 3, you force her to swallow. Okay?"

Garrett nodded. "Okay, this might hurt a little, Cerezie."

"1... 2... 3!"

As she said that, Garrett felt his arm weaken again, but he powered through it. He forced Cerezie's mouth closed and guided her throat to swallow the paper. After a bit, he opened her mouth and saw the paper gone. Cerezie's body began to glow green and her wounds started to heal slightly. Her breathing became more natural and life began to flow through her skin again. She coughed slightly as she began to come back to reality.

"Cerezie! You're alive," Garrett said with a smile.

"Garrett, you savior me," Cerezie said, still weak in her voice.

"Hey, don't thank me. Vanessa here is the one who really saved you," Garrett said with a chuckle.

"Oh, now we ally with daemon? Sure, I guessing," Cerezie said, rolling her head to look at Vanessa. She sighed and laid her head back, closing her eyes to rest. Garrett could see that Vanessa was clearly holding back a scowl. "Pursuiting robot take caring. Over there."

Garrett looked over the minecart and saw the remains of the other half of the Flame-Gunner. It was riddled with bullet holes and damaged beyond repair. Bits and pieces of circuitry and metal were scattered around the corpse. However, it wasn't the robot that attracted Garrett's attention.

Behind the robot was a large stone wall. Embedded into it was a massive circular stone with engravings on it. He didn't recognize any symbols on it, but it was clear that it was old. He left Cerezie in Plex's care while he and Vanessa walked over to the stone wall. It was a large circle with what appeared to be letters within it. Garrett didn't recognize them as Dwarven, Elven, or even Illiman. Despite not understanding it, he could feel powerful energy emanating from behind the wall.

"I can feel it," Vanessa said, pressing her hand against the wall. "The treasure of Amer-Turul. It's behind this wall."

"Seriously? We found it?" Garrett asked, looking at Vanessa, and then over the wall. The main goal down here in the Darge was just within their reach. "Okay, how do we get to the treasure then?"

"Well, these symbols are written in Orkish," Vanessa said, brushing her hand against the engravings. "So, I have no idea what they say." She tapped her hand against the wall and put her ear against it. "And this wall seems pretty solid."

Garrett pushed with all his might, but the stone refused to move. "Strange, the map says that there's supposed to be another room behind here," Garrett said, pulling out the map. Sure enough, there was a second room beyond where they were right now.

"Maybe Soxart gave us an old map? It looks worn," Vanessa said, peering behind Garrett's shoulder.

"Or maybe you're not supposed to be here."