The pulsating light of the portal cast an eerie glow on the gathered raid party as they stood at the entrance to Vanaheim, the dungeon of endless frost and whispers. The air was thick with tension, the group silently preparing themselves for the challenge ahead. Velkharion tightened his grip on Crimson Fang, his piercing gaze fixed on the faint outline of jagged ruins visible through the swirling mist beyond the portal.
The raid leader, the burly and loud guild master Stonefist, grunted as he stepped forward. His heavy plate armor clinked with each movement, the massive war axe on his back gleaming with enchantments. "Alright, listen up!" Stonefist barked, his voice carrying over the murmurs of the group. "This isn't your casual dungeon run. Vanaheim doesn't forgive mistakes. You slip up, you're done. Got it?"
A murmur of assent rippled through the group. Velkharion exchanged a glance with Kingsalamander, his draconic ally smirking confidently. "Guess we're finally here," Kingsalamander said, tapping the shaft of his glaive against the ground. "You ready, Velkharion?"
Velkharion chuckled softly. "Ready as I'll ever be."
The raid party stepped through the portal, entering the Frostlit Catacombs, the first section of Vanaheim. The chamber was vast, its icy walls glittering like diamonds under the faint glow of magical sconces. The cold was palpable, biting even through their enchanted armor. In the distance, the faint sound of shuffling feet and guttural growls echoed through the cavern.
Isharion, the Vice Guild Master, stepped forward, his elven form elegant and composed. "The mobs here are Frostbound Shades," he said, his voice calm but commanding. "They rely on ambushes and can phase through walls. Stick together, and don't lose focus."
As the group moved deeper into the catacombs, the first wave of Frostbound Shades emerged, their ethereal forms gliding through the icy walls. Their glowing eyes locked onto the raid party, and their raspy growls signaled the start of the battle.
Velkharion stepped forward, his towering form cutting an imposing figure as he activated Verdant Sovereignty. The Dryad Guardians he summoned immediately engaged the shades, their AoE spells creating openings for the rest of the party to attack.
Damage Dealt with Verdant Sovereignty: 120 Magic ATK per target.
The Frostbound Shades retaliated, their claws slashing through the air as they attempted to overwhelm the front line. Kingsalamander intercepted one with a sweeping strike of his glaive, the force of the attack sending the shade hurtling back into the wall.
"Keep them off the healers!" Stonefist roared, his massive war axe cleaving through a shade that had strayed too close to the backline.
Velkharion activated Mystic Jab, his rapid strike obliterating a shade mid-lunge. He followed up with Flame Surge, the torrent of fire forcing a cluster of shades to retreat.
Damage Dealt with Mystic Jab: 90 Physical ATK + 20 Magic ATK.
Damage Dealt with Flame Surge: 110 Magic ATK per target.
Despite the shades' ability to phase through walls, the raid party's coordination kept them from gaining the upper hand. Isharion's precise magical strikes combined with Stonefist's brute force ensured that the group maintained control of the battlefield.
After a grueling skirmish, the Frostbound Shades were defeated, their spectral forms dissipating into the icy air. The group paused to catch their breath, their vaporous exhalations mingling with the frost-laden atmosphere.
"Not bad," Kingsalamander said, resting his glaive on his shoulder. "This group might actually stand a chance."
Velkharion smirked, inspecting the loot from the battle. Among the scattered treasures was a Runed Frost Gauntlet, an item that granted increased resistance to ice-based attacks. He slipped it into his inventory, knowing it would come in handy later.
As the party advanced toward the next section of the dungeon—the ominously named Chamber of Whispers—the sense of foreboding grew stronger. The icy walls seemed to close in, the air growing colder with each step. Velkharion could feel the weight of the dungeon's magic pressing down on him, but it only fueled his determination.
"This is just the beginning," he muttered, gripping Crimson Fang tightly.
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