RRRrrrrrrrrrRRRrrrr...

  Having dragged a trunk full of junk in front the door. I placed a looted helmet precariously on the top edge. Any attempt at entry, I should hear it.

  I found myself in a surgical or torture room a few levels down within the dungeon. I threw my cloak over the central table and start removing my gear for comfort and to better assess my wounds. I was careful to leave the escape rope on.

  From a thrift store I'd bought an extra large dark, almost black, green shirt which fit over my armour, reducing noise and shine. I rolled it up and bundled it into the hood of my cloak as a makeshift pillow.

  Armour off I dampened a rag and wiped blood away. Individually the undead warriors, vampires and wolfmen weren't a challenge. However the numbers, combined with a dungeon teeming with traps and obstacles which tested my high level skills, I was exhausted.

  I laid myself down in expectation of draining my mana, then healed myself. I'd already used a healing potion and despite looting one from a dead party, I figured I had to save the ones I had left.

  . . .

  I woke up with my body making multiple requests. After pissing in a corner, I drank some water and ate a light breakfast of dried meat, rye bread then relished a dried fruit. A nice sweet treat offered by an adventurer at our guild hall, I had two more to savour.

  I stretched and took a looked around, nothing worth looting, their scalpels were rusty. I had to be careful of my carry weight. The dead party had some interesting gear but I took very little, creating a bundle out of one of their cloaks and adding a counterbalance to the hobo stick.

  Geared up, I took a final swig of water then pushed the trunk aside.

  Rarr!

  "Good morning to you too."

  I hopped back into the room drawing my sword as the lv43 wolfman stopped himself from running past by slamming into the door frame. Snarling and foaming at the mouth it lunged at me.

  I rolled backward over the table then jumped up from behind, slashing the wolfman's clawed hands. It yelped, backed away before moving forward. It grabbed the edge of the table, hoisting it up, throwing it my way. The table hit the back wall with a mighty crash.

  The wolfman breathed heavily looking ahead, it sniffed the air. The beast realised too late I wasn't under the table. Its eyes widened as my sword went in one ear to then peek out the other.

  I moved behind the beast to drag my dark magic poison coated scalpel across its throat. I pulled out my sword as I backed away. These beasts are tough and magically recover. Thankfully, it had been enough, the wolfman fell forward dying and soon became a bright clear gem.

  My new sword was only holding up thanks to a dark magic assassin skill, DarkenSteel. At its first two levels it only worked to magically enhance dark steel, however at its final level it could enhance any metal weapon an assassin might have to use.

  I'd only had the skill maxxed for a year before my new life, it was high level, the skill had proved inordinately useful. It meant I could rely on using the weapons appropriate for any disguise. It wasn't as good as gear meant for the level you're at, but was good enough, at a fair mana cost.

  I had a repair potion just in case.

  . . .

  Crick!

  A shooting pain. The lv56 vampires were fast, while taking one down, another had landed a strike. My chest armour deformed at the punch. I kicked the blood sucker away.

  It avoided my slash, dashing back. Thinking quick, I threw a FirePunch as it was moving away. It screamed going up in flames, I donated more fire punches to the cause of it's demise. Completely immolated it charged me.

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  I waited for the vampire to lunge blindly past me, once beside me, I decapitated it.

  I had no sense of time in this dungeon, all I knew was that I was tired again. I was close, I knew I was. I forced myself onward, healing the fractured rib the vampire had managed to give me. My armour was on its last legs.

  I smiled ignoring the lv60 giant undead guard, the archway behind was signposted, it was the workshop, Ilmarinen would be inside.

  The undead guard charged me with its barn door sized tower shield. I dashed away. The sheild was trouble. This kind of undead was tough. To take it down I ideally needed the sheild gone.

  I desperately thought of the many skills I had... I had an ice versoin of FirePunch, but IcePunch woldn't freeze the entire sheild well enough for me to shatter it...

  I thought more as I avoided the guards' shield and mace. Not very respectful to the dead... but I had an idea of how to use BloodBurn.

  I retreated, for now, leaving my gear bundled by the entrance of the area.

  . . .

  I returned with two of the freshest dead adventurers I could find, stripped down to their underwear. Well beyond revival, I'd taken their adventurers cards to hand in later. A bit of experimentation with healing magic, I'd got their blood liquid.

  "Hey guard!" The undead giant awoke, in time to raise it's sheild against the body I'd thrown with enhanced strength.

  SPLAT!

  RARRRR!

  It almost seemed to be roaring at the indignation and in digust at what I'd done. We played chase for a while, I wanted the blood to soak into the wood.

  "BloodBurn!"

  The blood covered sheild ignited, I played cat and mouse letting the blood completely burn away before—

  SPLAT!

  Second body thrown. I mentally thanked the two fallen adventurers for their usefullness. The first had been a female neko, the second a human man. Blood allowed to soak in...

  "BloodBurn!"

  Once satisfied, I lured the guard to charge to the far side of the area, when it turned around I dashed and punched the shield using the same skill that breaks walls. The now burnt wood and weakened metal exploded. Left holding the metal parts, the undead guard's glowing eyes flickered as though it blinked. It decided to drop the junked sheild.

  I jumped back to assess. Without a shield it was going to be much easier to take this monster down.

  It had medium armour, an open face helmet revealed its blackened, extremely tight flesh. No lips, it's slimy, yellowish brown teeth were on show.

  Immune to poison, no blood, and endless stamina. As fun as my new sword was, I needed something stronger. I rolled over to my new hobo stick and slid off the pouches, quickly dashing away with the "stick". I'd looted a min lv54 polehammer. Poor sod had died on the final staircase.

  The sign, a carved slab of stone above the archway, was quite thick. I avoided a mace strike and ran up the wall then jumped to perch myself onto the less than 30cm ledge. I launched myself off, delivering a devastating hammer strike to the guards helmet.

  I landed, immediately swiveling round to throw the glowing polehammer like a javelin. The stunned undead guard did nothing to stop it, the spike on top pierced just below the nose. Magically enhanced, its tip manages to just about dent the back of the guard's helmet before stopping. I dashed forward, punching at the guards knees. It toppled forward, as it did I nudged the polehammer haft while jumping back. The end cap caught onto the dungeon's cobbled floor.

  The guard's head exploded. Its body continued to the floor without it.

  Panting I picked up the gem, possibly a diamond considering the level of the monster, then decided to back track. From the closest dead party I looted a one handed battle axe/ tomahawk with hammer side, plus a shield. A half full waterskin got topped up by a less full one, then I used Purify. I drank as I carried the loot back to in front of the workshop.

  There was a doorless storage area just off this hall. TrapAware didn't alert me to anything. It's empty except for some rotting timber and rusted pipes. I dragged some boards over to the doorway, leant them over it, got the axe jammed in, then balanced the helmet off the hook created.

  I didn't sleep, but did chug a healing potoin, before entering a restful meditative state I had better control of. I flipped a mini hourglass and allowed myself exactly an hour's rest. I'd been in this upsidedown tower of a dungeon for two days already, I wanted it over as soon as, now the finish line was in sight.

  . . .

  Toilet, eat, drink, I stretched and rolled my shoulders. Before entering, I read once more the notes Gwendoline had provided. Arch Blacksmith Ilmarinen had been famous even before the demon lord, despite the chaos of the demon lord's reign, enough records remained. He'd sent his family away and fought to ensure their escape was successful before his capture. I had the names of his wife and kids, his grandkids, great grandchildren, the family tree started getting patchy but I even had details of living descendants.

  I put the notes away, got the shield comfortable and, axe in hand, entered the workshop.