Title: Rogue Developments

>It's spring.
>Birds are chirping, bees are buzzing, the orc won't stop moaning about his missing organs as he lies in the meadow dying.
>Yeah, just another day.
>Traveling back to the guild, your group keeps a good distance from you.
>Adventurers come in all shapes and sizes, and you came in the "Happy Meal with an Igor" size and face.
>Granted, you do your job well.
>Like, really well.
>A lot of the other adventurers take you for a goblin, but that's what happens when you drunkenly hit on a mage in a last ditch attempt to get laid.
>You've mostly ignored it by now, but it gets to you every now and then.
>Kind of like right now.
>Upon arriving to the city gates, the paladin in the group yells for at the watchman in the tower.
>They raise the gates and your party walks through, in eager anticipation of your payment.
>Arriving at the guild, the group laughs and talks with everyone else, while you simply go for a small glass of water.
>Yeah, drinking always brings flashbacks of having your face turned into putty then getting bitchslapped so hard you look like a picasso painting.
>Sipping through a lopsided mouth, you search through the rambunctious audio of the bar, listening for anything interesting.
>One group is going to go kill some frost giants.
>Pass.
>Another group is heading out to save a princess in another kingdom.
>Pass.
>A group of mages are-
>Definitely fucking pass.
>A small trio are talking about treasure hunting.
>This could be interesting.

>Turning your head to the source of your curiosity, you lay your eyes upon a long line of what look like to be rogues.
>They're all lined up at a small table, with an unusual contraption you can't make out at the distance.
>Quietly observing, you witness each and every rogue fuck up and burn their hands, cut something, or set the trap off in some strange way.
>You put down the empty glass, crack your fingers, and walk over.
>The dwarf sitting behind the table quickly pipes up "No goblins allowed, we've dealt with your kind before."
>Without breaking a sweat, you simply show your ears, smooth and rounded.
>The dwarfs eyebrows raise as he attempts to get a word out, only to be blocked by yours.
>"Pissed off a mage, I really don't want to talk about it. But if what I'm seeing is correct-"
>"-Anyone who can solve this trap, and whatever else in it, will get to go on your little treasure hunt?"
>The elf sitting across tapping a fountain pen simply nods her head.
>The female barbarian behind her says something, but you're too deep in the trap to notice what she says.
>You examine and observe the entirety of the mechanism. It's not simple, but at the same time, it's not too complicated.
>Whoever made this obviously had dealt with normal rogues, but you've got years of experience of sitting in a cabin tinkering with this shit.
>After all, who else would go outside when they looked like an abstract painting brought to life? It took you a good 3 years before you left, and another 2 before you started interacting with people.
>With that in mind, you set out, pulling out your bag o' tricks.
>It's really more or less a gigantic custom toolset you built up over the half-decade of reclusiveness.
>Moving like smooth silk against skin, disabling and holding out mechanisms, you slowly but consistently begin to disarm and breakdown the multitudes of traps.

>Each tool has it's role and you quickly fulfill it without hesitation.
>Some of the mechanisms need to be studied, so you pull out your notebook of recorded machines, mechanisms, traps, etc.
>All of it stuffed in autistically documented book.

>Time passes as you continue on your studious journey, and by the time you're done, you've got each and every piece laid out on the table, documented, noted, and disarmed for future reference.
>It is only then that you notice the weight of the entire bar staring at you as if you had just shat out a piece of gold or something.
>"Wait, how long did that take me?"
>The elf, her face completely covered in a stupefied expression weakly replies, "about an hour."
>Shrugging, you ask her if you're up for the job.
>The barbarian shoots you a glare that would make a Lich tremble.
>"Of-fucking-course! Didn't we tell you that if you solved it...Shit, you weren't even supposed to solve the entire thing, just one part would've done!"
>Her face is somewhat red, and the cloak she wears shifts a bit as she roars at you.
>Do everything right, and you still fuck up on the job.
>Shrugging once more, you pack up your shit and quietly ask "So, when do we leave?"
>The dwarf, with a shit-eating grin on his face, replies with a quick, gruff, yet joyous, "NOW!"

>It's been a couple days, and you've gotten a good look at your crew.
>Starting off, the dwarf is a spellsword, about 3 and a half feet in height, dressed in some kind of mock royal garb and armor. His face is covered in scars on one side and blemishless on the other. Magic accident, you guess.
>The elf is also spellsword, but unlike the dwarf, she's more magic oriented, choosing the use the rapier as a wand more than a blade.
>Standing at a good 7 feet, she towers over the entire group like a lithe guardian. Her body moves like silk waving in the air, no missteps, no stumbling.
>The purple "blouse" adorned with some gold here and there, is also concealing an elven breastplate along with armor on the rest of her body. Stuff is good to cast magic in.
>She nearly lacks any junk in the trunk or the engine. A small, modest swell in her bosom and her back is all that's keeping you from being stuck in limbo trying to figure out if she might've been male or female.
>The barbarian-found this out 3 days later, prepare for this surprise- Is a mage, or rather a druid.
>Mages, druid, same thing- But it's more or less focused on healing magics, amplifying friendly attacks, and some minor "alchemy", if you can call it as such-more like home remedy when you really get down to the gist of it.
>Standing at a good 6'3, she towers AND outbulks your frame like a bad joke. Muscle ripples all over her limbs, her chest sticks out a good amount from her, but it's mostly absorbed by the insane body of hers.

>Her ass is nonexistent, face is a mix of angles and softness that would put some men on edge.
>But all in all, she's not really a "Beat-em-Up Barbarian," more like a druid discovering the joys of getting shredded then proceeding to wreck shit all the time.
>As for yourself, a nondescript brownish/green outfit adorns your average-skinnyish frame(you've found this outfit to be incredibly useful, mimicking the way some creatures blend in with their environment).
>Your toolbag is custom made, after you realized that making shit yourself was cheaper than buying it when you needed a bag that could be carried around easily.
>Slung on your back, it's hidden under the top part of your outfit, something like a cloak covering your body(think mexican gunslinger), and your boots dashing the ground beneath with each stride.
>You feel for the dagger hidden inside your top, the hilt solid, dependable, trustworthy-unlike a lot of the world you've come to discover.
>The group stops for the day, and you go back to autisitcally analyzing the traps you solved two-weeks ago, which happened to have come from the ruins they were searching in. Shame what happened-whatever it might've been-to their previous rogue too.

>Another week passes by before you reach your destination.
>The land is barren, few trees standing here and their, devoid of leaves or fruit, gnarled like a witches finger hovering over a crystal ball.
>Several plants sprout from the ground, strangely enough, but their fruit is...well, you guess correctly it's deadly, but unable to collect is as the Magebarian drags you away, screaming something about "Corrupted Nature."
>You simply observe, content with not having the rest of your limbs getting picasso'd.
>As your party continues along the path, the flora becomes increasingly more and more vile.
>Fluid drips from the cracks of trees, almost making it look soft and moist to the touch.
>Plants pulsate with an uncanny rhythm, wrapping and twisting around bones.
>Flowers open and close, almost inviting whatever prey they eat to come inside...but you haven't seen any fauna whatsoever.
>"This is...strange."
>"What the hell happened to this place, and why aren't we being affected by it? I mean, there's no other animals around here but us, and the amount of desiccated corpses and skeletons I'm seeing here are astronomical."
>Your words echo out in the fleshy forest, where wood is no longer constrained to standing still in one place.
>The elf and barbarian turn to you with tired looks on their faces, but it's clear that they're straining to answer you.
>But before either of them can say a word, the dwarf gruffly replies.
>"Deeze lands...old leggens say dat summin' like a witch was ezzecuted here."

>He scratches his head, trying to remember the rest of the tale.
>"Yes, a witch was executed here long ago. If I recall correctly, she was practising forbbidden magics in seclusion."
>"When the council caught wind, they sent guards to investigate. Rumors say that the guards were merely corrupted by looking at her, other say it was her fragrance."
>The barbarian speaks up with a droning voice, as if a professor was bored out of his mind lecturing students.
>"Actually, it wasn't forbidden FORBIDDEN magics. It was a separate subsection of magics that were more focused on aspects of the body that were frowned upon."
>"The only real reason she was killed is if that her knowledge got out, it could potentially shut down the war-machine countries around here within a month or so."
>The elf glares at the barbarian, before launching into a tirade of arguments as to why she was wrong.
>The two ladies continue to go at it, and the dwarf beckons you around them.
>"Lissen, ignah doze two, da reason we ain't dead yet is 'cause the elf and barbarian-druid lady havva ward on us. We'll be foine as long as weuh with them."
>He smiles through his thick beard, and you simply smile back, to the best you can.

>Finally, you've reached the ruins.
>Pillars of greyed stone splattered with bits of ancient dried blood and bone dot the entrance- a large staircase leading to the below.
>Your group rearms themselves, checks everything, and gets ready to set out.
>"Uh...before we go in, assuming we come out alive- I never did hear any of your names."
>The dwarf looks at you, points his finger dramatically, and excitedly responds "Imma Pyros, da bess damn spehsinger out dah!"
>The elf simply readies her "blade" in her hands and quietly responds "Esdna" 
>Looking at the barbarian, she simply grunts an unintelligible name, something of a foreign language. "'Life of the Oaken Sapling' is what it means, but you can call me Lifa."
>You simply pull out your sheathed dagger from it's hiding place, and ready the other hidden daggers on your person, speaking without breaking a beat, "I'm Anon. Lets get this over with."
>Everyone nods in agreement, but before you start your descent, something pops up in your head.
>"Wait, I never did figure out what happened to that last rogue of yours?"
>"Listen...Just-Don't. Touch. The. Bells."
>Your stomach drops as the Barbarian shakily warns you. It's clear something happened that was far out of their control, and you only make a mental note of it.
>The dwarf leads point with the elf second, and the barbarian in front of you.
>Moving through the first part of the dungeon proves to be easy, around ancient murals and broken down walls, it's like someone buried a castle under here.

>Eventually, it starts to get heated as creatures start showing up. Grotesque creatures.
>A beast with 4 legs and 3 arms launches itself only to get splattered by a force-spell from the dwarve's lips.
>The elf is no exception in the fight, her wand/rapier hybrid casting and slicing at the same time, doing devastating damage to the fleshbeasts within the area.
>The barbarian moves with exceptional speed, enhancing everyone's attacks and her own, bashing, grappling, crushing and demolishing any and all creatures that come across her.
>As for you, you're barely trying to stay alive.
>The dagger in your hand moves with inhuman speed as you stab and cut your way to survive this Cronenberg party.
>Finally, the last monster drops dead as the stench of rotting flesh and gods-know-what-else wafts up your nose.
>Losing your lunch after the fight ends, you wheeze leaning against the wall wiping slime off your cutlery and your mouth.
>"Geddup laddeh, weah not done here!"
>The dwarf heaves you back up with the bottom hilt of his sword off the wall, as you groan at the lost gainz.
>Eventually, you reach the main room where everything went wrong.
>Several hindered bells float within the room, suspended by nothing.
>Immediately, you begin to realize that this place is worse than you thought it would be.

>It's been 3 hours, and you've been navigating the crowded area without any help.
>Turns out there's traps everywhere on the walls, and the bells...well you don't entirely understand it.
>But from some trial and error, you find out quickly that depending on what panels on the wall you press, the bells move with varying speed and distance.
>Strangely, they don't ring when moved though, still as ice.
>As you snake and bend your way around the area, disarming traps as you go, the rest of your party watches with looks of fascination and curiosity, amazed that you're even able to do what you do.
>And no magic in it to boot.
>Finally, the bells are arranged in a way that the rest of your group can walk in, and you can continue to look for additional triggers.
>"Gods, you're less of a rogue and more of one of those insane tinkerers in the capital! I've never seen anyone do what you did in such a short time."
>You simply nod at Esdna's astonished face, before switching off the last trap.
>Finally, you silently wave your hand, the signal for all green.
>Moving to the other side of the room, the party opens the next stone door, expecting to go through it without a problem-
>-only for a small portion of the door to move, revealing pulsating, beating, meat underneath.
>And a single. Human. Eye. Bloodshot and shaking.
>The dwarf quickly shuts it back with a surprising burst of strength, and he starts to mutter under his breath maddeningly, repeating "nonononono..."

>The elf is even more pale than she was before, like a ghost painting itself white.
>The barbarian's face is steeled, all angles and no soft.
>"What the FUCK was that?"
>"Our last rogue."
>By now, you would've shit yourself had you not vomited earlier.
>You step back, and quickly whirl yourself at Lifa.
>"Okay, okay, hold up. What the fuck do you mean that was the last rogue? What the hell is in here that you guys are so damn determined to get?"
>Lifa closes her eyes and breathes in, then out, and finally looks at you.
>"Our party was in the same magic class at the institution. We were looking to spice things up for a party several months back and we had heard of a place with some unusual magics."
>"What we weren't aware of, is what those unusual magics were being produced by, or rather-controlled by."
>"Our rogue, Vella...she...I don't know how to put it."
>Her face is twisted in a grimace of pain and desperation as she continues.
>"It...we unleashed something we couldn't control. It took control of Vella and fully corrupted her. It MERGED with her."
>"...and as a result, this place changed. The traps here, they don't kill you."
>"They change you, make you..."
>Before she can get it out, Pyros interrupts- "Dey make yeh into summah kind o'...lahst-drivehn baest!"
>You're earlier assumptions and studies of the various syringes and coatings on the traps is shattered as you start towards Esdna.
>"How many?"
>"W-what?"

>"How many fucking people before me, how many did you use-"
>Esdna's cold caricature breaks down before, as she abruptly replies "3. All females. The rogue males, they couldn't enter, got sick or something. But you...you were too much of a chance to pass up. So we gambled and we won. I don't know how you're standing here."
>"Pyros, we...I don't know what's up with him. He's not affected by it either."
>The stout dwarf simply shifts around, he's clearly nervous from the whole thing.
>"Gods, this is fucked beyond all recognition. Why didn't you fools call the church abou...fuck, you would've been arrested, right?"
>Esdna simply nods.
>Suddenly, the room shakes.
>Hard.
>The walls distend inwards, sections popping out but not exploding, as if they were glued on something.
>Cracking and rumbling can be heard underfoot, and a loud, gut-wrenching laugh can be heard throughout.
>The laugh splits into three more different laughs, and it eventually turns into moaning.
>Realizing that it's not best to stick around, Pyros guns it out of the ruins.
>Esdna whips out her blade, and casts seals around the now bulging, fleshy door, various limbs and organs potruding from the cracks.
>The barbarian is nearly melting down, her fists charged with mana.
>As for you, you slowly calm yourself down, reasoning that if you die, you might as well go out in style.
>The shaking subsides, the moaning disappears, but the nightmare has just begun.
>It last for a couple seconds, before subsiding to a small rumble.
>A loud, feminine scream can be heard down the hall from where Pyros had run to.
>The door bows outward, stretching the seals and grabbing Esdna's arm.
>Lifa is furiously grappling her body as it starts to warp, completely unaware of the tentacle snaking and pulsating up her leg into her battledress.

>You're nowhere to be seen, except parkouring your way through the now-fleshy walls of the dungeon.
>Fear is your fuel, this whole situation is your fire, and your need to live is your desire.
>The air fills with putrid scents of all sorts of bodily fluids. Words of old not meant for human ears are spoken, you can feel the blood running out of your eyes as you run over eyes peering back at you.
>Corridors twist and cave in and out, you've lost track of where you were supposed to go, the exit or is it that wonderful singing?
>Finally, out of breath, you realize nothing is chasing you, and the dungeon has yet to eat you.
>Thus begins your strange journey.