The Darklake region of the Underdark, most of the time, is a tranquil and uneventful place—but once in a while, something bizarre or dangerous happens. And if you don't handle it right, it can end with a capsized boat and no survivors!
Nymeria pouted, clearly still annoyed. "If you don't believe me, come take a look yourself."
With that, she boldly grabbed Charles's hand and dragged him toward the bow of the ship. "There, see over there? Does that look like a big empty boat to you?"
She pointed, and by the light of Theresa's spell shining from the top deck, Charles's vision pierced the darkness to reveal a distant scene.
It was a cargo vessel, far larger than theirs—at least three times as long, sitting deep in the water and standing nearly twice as tall. Judging by size, it could carry not only a hefty load, but probably a hundred crew members or more.
More than that, three heavy ballistae were mounted on each side: this ship was clearly well-armed, ready for sudden battle.
Standing at the bow with Nymeria, Charles listened as she explained, "We were just enjoying our roast ripple-fungi when suddenly that empty boat crept up. At first we didn't care, figured we'd pull ahead, but then we realized our boat had stopped moving. That's when we started looking for you two, worried something had happened. Anyway, now what do we do—run for it or go check that boat out?"
The silent, ominous ship floated like a ghost story's phantom vessel—Charles's gut told him they had trouble. His face turned grim.
"Hanni," he called, "You know Underdark ships—is that… a Duergar vessel?"
Duergar—a subrace of dwarves. They're sensitive to sunlight and forced to live underground, mining the deeps for ore.
Of course, traditional dwarves already lived much of their lives in caves and mines, banishing daylight as a matter of preference. The underground-dwelling Duergar looked much like their surface kin, aside from their dark skin—and, well, a much more evil reputation.
Living in the brutal Underdark bred them into plunderers, slavers, and traffickers—very common, actually, for ships like this "cargo" boat to bristle with weapons. When they met a weaker vessel from another race, the Duergar would flip the switch from traders to pirates—looting everything and turning survivors into slaves.
If this ship really belonged to Duergar…
Every Underdark race had unique ship designs. Charles wasn't familiar enough to be sure, so he asked Hanni, a native.
If she could confirm it, he'd know exactly what to expect.
Hanni walked up, craning her neck for a better look—then shook her head. "Uhh… can't say for sure. I mean, it's my first time out on a mission! They don't even teach ship recognition in school…"
She babbled excuses, obviously embarrassed. Charles just teased her: "Useless elf!"
Hanni looked ready to punch him. Charles ignored her, turning to Nymeria. "Call Lotuen over. I bet he can recognize if it's a Duergar ship."
Nymeria hurried below deck and woke the beholder, who, though grumpy at first, changed instantly when he drifted up and got a look. "That's a Duergar ship, all right. Heads up, I think they've targeted us."
Charles nodded; he'd guessed as much. Maybe he didn't know the local styles, but as an old player, he knew monster tactics like the back of his hand—especially Duergar's signature traits.
First, Duergar had innate resistance to mind-affecting magic, due to their historic enslavement by Mind Flayers.
Second, every Duergar could cast "Enlarge/Reduce"—but only the Enlarge part—to buff their combat strength.
Third and most importantly, they could go invisible at will!
That last ability was huge—it allowed all sorts of military tricks.
Like now: they could collectively go invisible and pretend the ship was deserted. The best hunters lure prey, and when curiosity or greed brought foes aboard, the Duergar could ambush with deadly force!
And if their prey didn't "bite," the Duergar might just jump aboard invisibly and launch a sneak attack.
Charles watched the empty deck, eyes narrowing. Others might not know these tricks—but as a veteran gamer, he was more than familiar.
Trying to fool me? Not happening.
He instantly thought through a counter-strategy.
"Hattie," he called quietly, "Get Theresa, Sophia, and Shapiro up here. This could get complicated."
Hattie nodded, didn't bother moving—just silently chanted and messaged each crewmember, telling them to assemble topside.
In truth, she felt a weird pressure of overflowing magic inside her and wanted to use up some energy anyway—so she didn't mind going a bit overboard.
Back in the cabin, Theresa, Sophia, and Shapiro rushed up. Shapiro already had his enormous scythe in hand and couldn't hide his anticipation: "Where's the enemy?"
He'd wanted a good fight for ages—now was his chance to show off his strength!
Noticing Shapiro's eagerness, Charles mused.
"They're on that ship—Duergar. They're invisible. We can't see them, which makes things tricky. Shapiro, got any bright ideas?"
Shapiro grunted, head high. "This is child's play!"
Charles nodded, fighting down a sly grin. He turned to Theresa: "Theresa, that ship's just for you."
Duergar may have lots of built-in strengths—resistances, invisibility, sudden size-changing—but like their dark elf cousins, they shared one massive weakness:
Sunlight.
Real sunlight blinded them, making them nearly useless—ten times less dangerous.
As it happened, Theresa could cast "Dawn" at will, a 5th-level spell that conjured true sunlight. With just this one spell, she could neutralize most of the Underdark along their journey.
Without hesitation, Theresa raised her hand and chanted "Dawn." A glowing golden sun burst in her palm, flooding the ghost ship with searing radiance.
Screams echoed out: "Aaah—!"
"Damn, we've been spotted!"
"Screw it, time to show these surface folk what we're made of!"
"Take them alive—sell them for slaves!"
Now caught, the Duergar pilot adjusted the helm, oarsmen belowdecks scrambling to accelerate the vessel.
Strangely, they didn't charge toward Charles's boat, but instead began to pull away—while the crew on the ballistae loaded bolts, intending to launch a ranged attack from safety.
Not a surprise—Charles had seen this coming.
"We're not equipped for a ranged fight; that'll go badly. Hattie, cast! Speed us up; we're gonna board them!"
Hattie got the message: she chanted swiftly, parting the lake water, and the two boats surged toward each other.
Adele looked nervous, but Nymeria was all excitement. She'd left her family precisely for this—adventure, freedom, new enemies! She couldn't wait to clash blades with Duergar pirates.
With both boats out of control and closing fast, shouts erupted on the cargo ship: "The current's gone nuts!"
"Useless, you aren't rowing hard enough!"
"We can't row at all—the current, the current!"
Used to the calm of Darklake, Duergar had zero experience handling rough water, so chaos reigned.
The ballistae, loaded and ready, couldn't be aimed—the boat heaved so badly, they couldn't get a shot off.
"Don't rush—wait for my signal!" Charles bellowed. "When we're within five meters and it's safe, then we leap!"
Shapiro kept his sour face, but he was pumped listening to the Duergar's panicked cries.
Impatient, Shapiro scoffed, "No need to wait that long. They're already dead!"
With that, before the boats even touched, with ten meters to go, he leapt overboard. Scarlet magic flashed, transforming him into a bolt of crimson lightning that crashed down on the Duergar deck.
He'd been itching for a fight, for a chance to outshine Charles and demonstrate his ruthless power.
And now, his patience snapped—he had to prove himself!
"Hey—!" Charles sighed, reached out—clearly not expecting Shapiro to listen—but the corners of his lips curled just slightly, like everything was going according to plan.
He knew Shapiro chafed under his leadership, and this was a good way to curb his arrogance—a bit of tough love, using the Duergar as test dummies.
Duergar's invisibility only lasted until they attacked or cast another spell—the first ambush was always the deadliest. Back in the game, Charles had learned that lesson the hard way.
But once the initial assault was survived, with Theresa's sunlight blazing, the Duergar were finished!
"Sigh. He never listens." Charles shook his head but wasn't actually worried. "Don't jump yet. Wait for the boats to close!"
He kept stacking defensive spells on himself as the boats drew closer.
Meanwhile, chaos erupted on the Duergar ship. Shapiro, scythe in hand and senses sharp, instantly swept his blade sideways. He guessed correctly that invisible attackers would rush him, trying for a sneak attack.
His keen edge sliced through an invisible Duergar's armor—blood sprayed, and a scream of agony ripped through the air.
Shapiro grunted in satisfaction. But he couldn't cover all sides. The thunder of heavy feet approached, then the rush of iron flew his way!
His trained ears caught the attack—he barely intercepted with his scythe. Pain shot through his arms as two-meter-tall Duergar, swollen with enlarge spells, materialized before him, a mountain of muscle!
Now, every Duergar on board had already hit themselves with Enlarge, muscles bulging, power multiplied—every swing deadly, nearly impossible to block.
Shapiro gritted his teeth, staggered back, and tried to reset the tempo—but the Duergar showed no mercy. One withdrew, and the others, still invisible, struck at once—massive hammers raining down.
He couldn't hold them off alone; his arms went numb, and finally, outnumbered, he was struck hard, sent flying off the bow—crashing into the Darklake with a tremendous splash.
"...Sigh."
Charles released a heavy sigh—though this was exactly what he'd predicted. Despite everything, now was not the time to laugh.
With less than five meters between boats, and Shapiro lost in the lake, Charles stepped back and shouted, "Prepare to board—now!"
He rushed forward, vaulted across the gap, and landed gracefully on deck.
As he soared, his twin-bladed polearm, Montport, flashed into his hands, and as he touched down, he'd already cast "Elemental Weapon"—wreathing the blade in roaring flames, illuminating everything around him.
Theresa, right on cue, angled the "Dawn" spell so that sunlight flooded Charles alone—the ultimate spotlight, making his every move gleam like a star on stage.
The Duergar, now revealed and blinded, couldn't see or mount a defense—they retreated, dropping their weapons, unable to mount any threat at all.
Dwarven legs were never swift, and "Enlarge" did nothing for agility. They were slow even compared to Shapiro; invisible attacks were their only true edge.
Now exposed, Charles—hastened by "Longstrider"—could easily run them down, slicing through their armor like butter and leaving lethal wounds!
Behind him, as the boats closed, Willo and Adele unleashed magic—tangling the deck with living, powerful vines. The vines avoided Charles's path, but snared Duergar by the legs, tripping and trapping them instantly.
Even the invisible ones were caught—after all, if you couldn't fly and stepped on those vines or leaves, you'd be snared, exposed, and instantly cut down.
After Charles charged through the forward ranks, Nymeria leapt on deck as well, her serpentine sword hacking down any remaining Duergar who could still fight.
Some tried to swing their mighty hammers back, but so blinded and clumsy, they couldn't hit anything; Charles dodged easily, and even if touched, his layers of protection kept him safe—while "Armor of Agathys" froze them nearly to death with retaliatory frost.
Hattie, Sophia, and Theresa hadn't even unleashed their full power. Yet, just the few of them demolished foes that outnumbered them ten to one.
Watching the Duergar pirates get destroyed, Charles felt the satisfaction of sweet revenge. He remembered the countless times these bastards had wiped him out as a newbie, learning the hard way during questlines like "The Adamantine Forge"—now it was their turn to suffer.
With Theresa's sunlight backing him, Charles felt invincible.
Before long, veteran Duergar cut their losses, scrambling for lifeboats or, if they were good swimmers, peeling off their clothes and diving into the lake to escape.
Their escape was well-practiced; each went in a different direction, making it impossible for outnumbered Charles's party to give chase. Clearly, this wasn't their first failed robbery.
Of course, not everyone got away—less experienced, slower-witted, or poor swimmers were left behind.
Those stranded had no options left. They raised their hands in surrender.
And with that, the battle was over.
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