This Week On…. Dungeon Raiders!
Having chosen to explore the recently unearthed Krakamaxian Temple Of Jruquilodir this season, the Dungeon Raiders team managed to clear customs in the country of Halifirix, despite the violent civil war currently raging across the tiny nation.
Enduring a grueling three day journey through the war zone, they have spent the last four weeks diving deep into the ancient temple, in search of treasure. But, when party leader Liam Knotworth discovered a giant, sealed door emblazoned with the sigil of the Krakamaxian God of Horrific Death, the eighty three headed Jruquilodir, the team stopped to investigate.
Now, back to the show!
Intense rapid fire cut-scenes of monster battles and expensive looking prop treasure plays to intense music.
Liam paced the wide corridor, growing ever more agitated as he glanced at his watch, an expensive gold plated Hourman. It was from the limited edition run, with the back engraved to prove it. He had number three of 1,000. He’d always been slightly miffed he hadn’t gotten the very first one. That honor had gone to President Ghuan of the Allied Alliance.
He paced faster, wondering what made the President of the most powerful country in the world more important than a tv personality anyway. Every time Ghuan got on the tv, things only seemed to get worse for everyone. Liam didn’t know for certain if that was true, but it seemed that way. The ratings backed him up on that, too.
“Hey, keep the camera on me,” he snapped.
Liam Knotworth is the host of Dungeon Raiders, the aforementioned party leader. He has no actual skills beyond looking good on camera.
Ariel scowled. “Stop moving around so much.”
Ariel Glendale is one of the two camera-people for Dungeon Raiders. Her primary job is making sure to always capture Liam’s good side. After six seasons, she still doesn’t know which that is.
Liam stopped his pacing. “Your job is to keep the camera on me, no matter what. It’s in my contract. Don’t blame me if you can’t do your job.”
“Whatever,” she grumbled as he began pacing more earnestly.
“Just humor him as best you can,” Edith intoned from behind her as she checked her phone. “He’s right about his contract, and could fire you if we get more than six hours of footage without him in it.”
Edith Yhorn is the producer of Dungeon Riders. She wanted to film a documentary about the native Kobold tribes of the Fershwan river basin, and only took on Dungeon Raiders so she could finance that project.
The Elf spared a glance back at the Half Orc. “How’d he get a contract like that?”
“Probably slept with the boss,” Mike, the sound guy, snickered.
Mike Mertz is the main sound guy. He smokes a lot of pot. Other than that, he isn’t a very interesting character. He gets eaten by a dragon in the season finale. No one notices.
“Whoa, you think?” Ariel grinned.
Okay, Ariel notices, but only because Liam makes her carry Mike’s gear.
“Camera!” Liam barked.
“Sorry,” Ariel muttered, watching him pace the hall through the eyepiece.
“Reception sucks down here,” Edith sighed, tucking the phone away before adjusting her glasses. “And no, Liam didn’t sleep with the boss. I’m the boss, and I wouldn’t go there.”
“Do you people mind shutting the hell up?” Spryte snapped from the massive door. “A little quiet would be helpful!”
Spryte Treehugger is the party’s rogue. While extremely capable, she has a very short temper. Usually, though, she’s a very pleasant individual. Usually.
Liam stopped his pacing again. Ariel was somewhat thankful.
“We’ve been here for over an hour. Can you open that stupid door or not?” Liam whined.
Spryte paused, giving him a die bastard look, her pink and green twin ponytails bobbing in the cameras light. “I am trying to open a six thousand year old lock, designed by people with four arms. It’s gonna take a bit, so shut up, or I’ll rip your tongue out and sell it to Goblins as a delicacy!”
Liam recoiled from the tall, slender Elf as she turned back to her work. “I was just asking. No need to get all feminazi on me.”
“That’s it,” she shrieked, dropping her tools and shoving her goggles up. “I’m killin him!”
Sven heaved a weary sigh, reaching out to tug at the irate Elf’s sleeve. “Leave him be, Spryte.”
Sven Jarhold is the teams Cleric. He doesn’t speak very often, but only because he always sounds reasonable, so Liam had him contractually barred from talking too much. He tested too well with viewers.
Tossing the easy going Dwarf a glare that had been scientifically noted to frighten Trolls, she dropped back into a squat. “Keep his dumb ass away from me then. I’m workin here!”
Liam retreated a few feet down the hall to loiter near Dusty. “Damn Elves. High strung bunch.”
“Yup,” Dusty intoned, never lifting his cowboy hat to look at the other man.
Dusty Velvet is the teams Ranger. He isn’t contractually barred from talking, he just never does. He is a very good shot with his Hauserfield .30 caliber long range sniper rifle, though.
“Is that camera still on me?” Liam yipped.
“Yes,” Ariel groaned, then muttered quietly, “Could shove it up your ass and get a shot of your brains if you like.”
“Wanna trade off for a bit?” Mike asked, swinging his own camera rig up onto his shoulder.
Mike Tonard, or The Other Mike, is the other camera-person for the show. He has a crush on Ariel. He doesn’t get eaten by anything. Nor does he get Ariel. She’s a lesbian.
“God, yes,” she replied, managing to keep the note of exhilaration of her voice. “Thank you!”
Mike grinned. “No worries. I’ll tend his highness for a while. Get some rest while Spryte does her thing.”
In case you were wondering, Spryte is not a lesbian that anyone is aware. There is nothing going on between she and Ariel. If there was, The Other Mike would have gotten it on film by now.
“I’ve got forearms,” Liam said to Dusty, ignoring the others as he stuck his arms out. “See? Excellent forearms.”
“Yup,” Dusty drawled, not looking.
Edith rolled her eyes and tugged her phone back out, desperate for something to do besides listen to the party and film crew bicker. Beside her, Zeke played with his sword idly, trying to catch a glimpse of the phones screen.
Zeke Winger is the teams fighter. He’s been very worried about getting replaced on the show after he didn’t test as well with viewers as the previous fighter, Helga, did. She was eaten by giant boll weevil last season.
“Stop it,” Edith warned.
“Sorry,” Zeke muttered, balancing his sword on his open palm. “Just wondering how I was doing.”
“You’ve not gotten eaten, so your doing fine,” she told him, adjusting her glasses before getting annoyed with the poor reception in the dungeon. “Helga was popular with male viewers 18 to 30, but your testing well with our female viewers, so don’t worry about it.”
“Really?” he asked, brightening.
Edith gave him a dour look. “Yes. Really. Now go play with that thing somewhere else.”
Edith was rated the third most influential woman in a power suit by Tusks Weekly two years in a row. She’s very proud of the distinction.
“Okay,” Spryte said as she stood, stretching her back. “All I gotta do is spin this doohickey thing here, and the door should open.”
“Nice work,” Sven commented.
“Aw, thanks,” she replied with a cheerful smile.
“Liam, come over here,” Edith called. “I think it’d look good if you stood in front of the door and pushed on it. Make it look like you’re forcing it open.”
“My time to shine,” Liam said, giving his collar a snap.
“Yup,” Dusty replied without disturbing the two inch piece of ash that hung from his hand rolled cigarette.
Dusty enjoys rolling his own cigarettes, sitting by campfires with his hat pulled down, and shooting at things from a mile away. He’s single, in case you were wondering.
“Just be careful when you open the door,” Spryte said as Liam joined her, a wicked smile on her face. “I don’t think it’s booby trapped, but there’s always a chance you could get impaled by something huge and sharp.”
Liam stopped, staring at her in fear before turning to Edith. “I am not to get impaled! It’s in my contract! No impaling or my lawyers sue the crap out of everybody!”
“You aren’t going to get impaled, Liam,” Edith groaned. “Spryte will be right beside you, and wouldn’t let that happen. Right, Spryte?”
“No,” the Elf snorted. “I’d shove him into it.”
Spryte does not like Liam very much. She expresses her distaste in subtle ways, but if you look for them, they are there.
Liam stabbed a finger at Spryte. Edith buried her face in her hand, groaning again. Spryte rubbed her hands together and cackled.
“Spryte,” Sven said softly.
She scowled. “Fine. I won’t let him get impaled through the chest by a thousand steel spikes.”
“That was oddly specific,” The Other Mike said.
She shrugged. “I deal in specifics.”
“Can we get on with this, please?” Edith snapped.
Everyone settled down. Except sound guy Mike. He was high, and therefore, already settled down.
“Okay, Liam, in front of the door,” Edith barked. “Spryte, watch him. Sven, Zeke, get up here. Dusty, watch our backs. Ariel, Mike, and Mike, let’s film a Gods cursed show.”
“You want I should just push on it, then?” Liam asked as the team gathered around him, doing a last minute check of their gear.
Liam is, as Spryte has gently suggested, not the sharpest sword in the armory.
“I guess,” Edith shrugged. “Maybe say something profound or something first. I don’t care. Just open the damn door.”
Liam nodded, looking to see which camera was on his good side, then pointing at Ariel. “Zoom on me, okay?”
“Sure,” she said, not caring.
“Hunker down,” Liam hissed at Spryte. “You’re blocking my light.”
“I’ll block your face,” she grumbled as Edith motioned for her to get out of the camera shot.
Satisfied, Laim looked back at the camera, giving his second best smile. His very best smile he saved for his doting female fans and season finales. He had a third best smile, but that only got used during awards season, when he didn’t win anything.
“We are standing before what appears to be the central entrance to the temple of Jruquilodir, the eighty three headed God of Horrific Death, a central deity in the Krakamaxian belief system. We can’t know what lies beyond, possibly nothing, or possibly, as the local legends warn, a gateway to the elemental plain of horror itself.”
“Horror isn’t an element,” Spryte yelled. “It’s a genre, you idiot!”
Spryte writes Drake Malloy, Boy Wizard fan fiction in her free time. She’s very popular with the online community.
Liam frowned. “Can we edit that out later?”
“Yes, we can edit that out later,” Edith sighed.
“I’ll edit you out of your face,” Spryte muttered.
“As always,” Liam said to the camera. “Dungeon Raiders, and myself, know no fear, and will bravely push on, going where no living being has stepped in six thousand years, risking our very lives to further our own knowledge of the lost history of our world.”
“Open the stinking door,” Spryte grimaced.
Liam bite his tongue as he turned, pressing his palms against the great stone doorway and pushing. Spryte let him for a moment before activating the release, filling the hallway with the deep grinding sound of stone on stone as the temple was unsealed.
Beyond was darkness so deep, the lights from the cameras didn’t pierce it even slightly. A deep groan could be heard as stale air rushed out at them, and the temple trembled. Looking back to the camera, Liam smiled comfortingly.
“Let’s raid this dungeon, team,” he declared, stepping into the shadowed confines.
“Yup,” Dusty said as he finally stood, readying his rifle.
Liam screamed, high and loud. “Spider web! Spider web!”
“I can not wait until this is over,” Edith groaned.
“We can edit that out later, right?” Liam whimpered.
Next Week on… Dungeon Raiders!
Liam cowered behind Sven as the rest of the team and crew watched Spryte chase the Treant around the chamber, her chainsaw buzzing in her hand.
“DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE!”