by Dakota Krout
“I’m sorry, I’ve lived near here my whole life, where was this?” Dale pressed for a bit more information.
“Spotterton!” The man looked upset that Dale didn’t recognize the name. “The training town for all aspiring Spotters, located several hundred miles due south of here? The pride of the Phoenix kingdom?” The man searched Dale’s eyes, hoping for a spark of recognition. “It was destroyed, the people slaughtered in the streets and their homes like animals… and just left to rot.”
“It had to be necromancers!” The crying lady screamed, “Who else would hate us so much?”
The others seemed to agree, but Dale was only a bit confused. “Why would necromancers hate you?”
A dirty look was sent his way in an attempt to chase him off, but Dale didn’t budge. Ultimately, an owlish man deigned to offer an answer. “We — the Spotters guild — have been the source of almost all the new Runes for the last two centuries. If it weren't for us, this area would be crawling with the undead by now.”
“But,” This one word from Dale's mouth caused many fists in the group to clench simultaneously. “If it were Necromancers… why would they leave the dead?”
Anger turned to pondering, pondering turned to concern, and concern to fear. “But…” A small voice whispered, “Who else would dare?”
“The only people who could tell for sure are you.” Dale looked around the despondent group, “You are Spotters! The only people qualified to determine if this was magical in nature are you. I am so, so sorry for your loss, but you cannot let this hold you back. Even now, time passes and details are fading. You want to find out who killed your people? Me too! I am certain the Kingdoms want to know as well, but who else would be able to tell them?”
Faces around the group hardened, tears dried up. Several people nodded, and they set off to make preparations. Dale hurried back to the temple, making for his room. The night had quite a chill to it now.
~Cal~
“Why is that?” Dani was taking the day off from training, and had settled onto a pillar of stone I grew just for her. It had a pillow on it made from the pink fabric I had gotten for Dale’s discarded robe.
“Mmhm.” Dani seemed less than impressed with my visualization technique.
“I guess you should be more specific with Dale next time.” Dani chuckled at my grumbling.
I paused. I hadn’t considered that, Dale, you sneaky jerk! He is the bad carpenter that did the minimum amount of work to fulfill the order.
“Pretty much.” Dani laughed at my consternation.
Dani was now paying full attention, “Why do you say that?” She seemed to be holding back from saying something.
“Well…” She finally just spit out what she had been thinking, “It… there has been a theory for a long time that almost anything done with Mana could be done with Essence.”
“It has, but always unsuccessfully. People have worked together, tried to form things, spent decades doing research. The issue is basically that no one has fine control over all of the affinities, and even the people that are masters of one type have trouble meshing their Essence with others.” She considered her next words, “You though… hear me out. The biggest reason for getting into the B-rankings is so that you can simulate the effects of all the affinities.”
She took a deep breath, “I think that Mana users fill in the blanks of their creations with Mana, because they cannot control all of the Essences. You can. I think that you may be the only being I have ever heard of that could do it. As a matter of fact, you have already come fairly close with the abilities your Assimilators are using. Those are certainly outliers in terms of your pure power at the C-rankings.”
I felt a broad mental smile forming.
“Yes.”
“Never.” Dani whimpered, making me laugh.
The first step was to un-spaghetti the pattern. To clarify, there were loops and whorls in the pattern that had been erroneously placed. I assume they were included because the maker cannot see the aura of inanimate objects. I wonder how people feel comfortable creating Runes? Do they just force the pattern onto an object and hope for the best? That must be a terrifying experience. I digress. So, I worked at untangling the pattern, properly refitting it to itself and adding connections in places that should help to increase the stability of the dimensional warping.
Yes, dimensional warping. Someone had to have done this for the first time in the past. I don’t know who they were, but they must have had a pair on them bigger than my dungeon to be messing around with forces like these. Make no mistake, this stuff is dangerous, and this bag in particular was a disaster waiting to happen. How dangerous? Ask what remains of my test bunnies. I didn’t use Bashers for this, they were too intelligent for me to feel comfortable using them like that anymore.
I kept thinking that I had the pattern correct, but a surge along an Essence stream would collapse the whole thing randomly, with rather… unrelated? I think that is a good word choice? Unrelated effects. Like a patch of rock melting across the room, or my rabbit transforming into a bird. That last one was really disturbing, all the extra mass peeled away in what had to be a painful way.
Dani asked why I insisted on having rabbits in the room while I worked, and after an arm appeared and pulled a rabbit in, I explained over the squelching noises drifting through the portal.
“Fair enough, do all your testing on rabbits!” She shuddered again. “Maybe add a few more in there just for, ya know, peace of mind?”
The experimenting continued, but after two days I decided that it needed to wait while I added on the new mining area. The current third floor had been slowly descending over the course of a few days, and now was deep enough down that I could add in the new third floor.
I started with a simple layer of stone for the floor, compressing it t
o become exceedingly dense. I had become very proficient with the creation of cursed earth, and it was only the work of a few hours to add the needed Runes to the flooring. The walls of the labyrinth had taken weeks. I felt proud of myself. Next I — what the heck is that? Something is scratching at me. That is, at my dungeon. Not in the normal areas — for mining and such — but on the underside near the river I use to power my steam traps. I focused my awareness on the itchy area, and almost screamed a little as a pick suddenly burst through the stone where my attention was gathered.
“Where? Wait, what? Why would someone do that?” Dani laughed, trying to hide her nerves. “That is the same as writing a suicide note, right?”
I ran a quick calculation. Forty feet from the surface to the entrance, sixty feet down to the first-floor Boss, a spiral stair down to the second floor was roughly thirty feet. I had made the next descent into ramps, so ore could be carted upward easier, another thirty feet or so. Last, there was a long, slanted staircase to the new fourth floor, but a straight drop would mean we were…
“How did they break in?” Dani demanded, calling a Wither Cat into the area so she could go hunting. “Also, where?”
“I’m on my way.” She told me grimly, in the mind-speak way that she was only able to use when possessing a dungeon creature.
I refocused on the area where the pick had broken the stone. Why hadn’t I taken the time to reinforce the floor down here? I mean, I knew why. I didn’t think anything would be able to enter from below. The pick was still swinging, and another few were joining it. There were noises coming through as well, what could be conversation, but in a language that I had never heard before.
Dani had arrived, and was hiding out of sight in the pitch-black darkness. The hole was still growing, and was about half the size of a grown human when the ringing noise stopped. A head poked through cautiously, and wide eyes adapted to the darkness looked around. They focused on Dani, who was crouched and ready to pounce. The creature spoke almost recognizable words at that point. “Gdood Khitty. Nho fhood khhere.”
Dani growled a low, threatening tone that made the hair on the small creature stand on end as it slowly backed away, deeper into the hole.
“I do.” She growled again as another head poked into the hole. The terrified face vanished quickly after that. “These are the reason the elder races are so against intermingling of the bloodlines. A cross between Gnomes, Orcs, Elves, and Humans. The cross made a monster race that was enslaved by Orcs centuries ago. These are freaking Goblins.”
~Dale~
Dale was having a rough day. Several of his requested teachers had shown up at the same time last night, but they were demanding payment up front. Having spent all his coinage on his new dimensional bag, he had to inform them that they would need to wait to be paid. He was able to set them up for room and board, but not much else. If Dale didn’t earn enough money to pay them — and soon — they were going to leave. He was going through his normal morning warm-ups when the beautiful woman he had met recently walked up to him.
“Are you ignoring me intentionally, or did you simply forget I existed?” Her first words chilled Dale more than the morning mountain air. “Please let me know, so that I can decide how to respond appropriately.”
Dale settled his form into a different stretch. “Good morning. Minya, is it?” She nodded, crossing her arms. “I am exceedingly busy. Please don’t feel ignored. Every morning I start my day by preparing to enter the dungeon. I eat a small mountain of food, trying to regain my muscle mass. I had a small… sickness, let’s say.” Dying counted as a sickness, right?
“That doesn’t change-” She furiously tried to cut him off.
“Hold on.” He tried to remain amiable. “Then I enter the dungeon in an attempt to get stronger, as well as make enough money to replace the gear that was stolen from me when I was beaten, robbed, and left for dead in the dungeon. I also need money for my instructors.”
He changed position to stretch his back. “After the dungeon run — which takes usually two to three hours — I go train with my Essence instructor, trying to harness my affinities into a useful skillset. Now after that, I have lessons in administration, mathematics, politics, logic, debate, tactics, and a few other things I am sure I have forgotten. I’ll remember them in a nightmare, I’m sure.” He shifted into a sideways bend that Chandra had suggested. “Around ten in the evening, I finish those classes.”
Minya tried to speak again, but Dale cut her off. “Then my new training begins! Hand-to-hand combat. My instructor for that seems to hate me, he straps weights to me and forces me to run and dodge things — that he throws at me — while he beats me with a staff.” Dale paused, looking dreamily into the distance, “Soon I might actually get to throw a punch during training. At something other than a wooden post, that is. Well. That ends around three in the morning. I get three whole hours to sleep if I don’t want to bathe. Apparently I only need two hours of sleep now, but a lazy morning sounds oh so nice.”
Minya waited to see if anything else was forthcoming. “Is that why you are wearing that odd assortment of mismatched leather armor?”
Dale blushed a bit at the mention of his ill-fitted armor. “My team decided that going into the dungeon without any protection whatsoever was tantamount to suicide. They all got me something different as a present. No, they did not go shopping together, but it is the thought that counts. Is this really what you wanted to talk about? I am leaving in a moment.”
Minya remembered that she was angry at being ignored. “I understand that you are busy, but we need to see each other. Why didn’t you come to my wagon?”
“I…” Dale blushed, “Listen, you are certainly beautiful, but I have no time for romance. Not even a ‘romantic evening’, plus I simply have no coin to spare right now.”
“Coin?” Minya was confused for a bare moment before her temper flared even higher. “You think I am a prostitute?”
Dale stepped away slowly, “I am guessing by your reaction that I am wrong…”
“Damn right you are!” Minya growled, “If you were anyone else I’d scalp you! No, Dale, I am here to talk to you about our friend, Cal.”
Dale stopped moving, going totally still. “Where did you hear that name?” He whispered, hand unconsciously clenching into a fist.
“Where do you think?” She broke into a smug grin, “Looks like you aren’t the only Dungeon Born around here anymore.”
“What did you just call me?” Dale had never heard the term, though it sounded like it would make an amazing title for a book.
“It means that you are beholden to a dungeon for your life. It either created you, gave you back your life when it was lost, accepted an oath from you, or your parents were created by the dungeon. You don’t even know what you are? You didn’t bother to ask?”
“It’s his turn.” Dale muttered. He was looking down, deep in thought.
“What?”
“Nothing. Look, what do you want?” Dale demanded, angry that this skimpily dressed person was shoving things in his face that he’d rather avoid.
“I want you to make the dungeon strong. I want you to live, and keep this area safe for Cal and his Wisp.” Minya announced vehemently. “I want to advise you on the best course of action, should the need arise.” She smiled and reached out to him.
Dale waited for her to stop talking. “No.”
“No?! What do you mean no?” Her h
and was frozen in the air.
“Exactly what it sounds like. I don’t trust your judgement. The dungeon does its best to kill all of us every day, and I don’t need another person whispering in my ear that is only working for their own agenda. You are always free to talk to me, everyone is, but I will not guarantee that I will listen to you. Actually, knowing that you are working for the dungeon intentionally means that I will likely ignore your advice. But, you are free to give it. Good day.” Dale walked away, leaving a sputtering, furious Minya behind.
Dale walked toward the dungeon, his talk had put him behind, so he had to miss a hot breakfast and instead eat dried rations. He was munching on some hard bread when the rest of his team appeared. “Morning all.” Dale muttered around a mouthful of crumbs.
“Good morning Dale, we missed you at breakfast. Everything okay?” Adam was looking at Dale's pale skin and sunken eyes.
“Just swell.” Dale swallowed the rest of his food. “You all ready? Anyone grab something from the job board?”
Rose spoke up, “I took a request for herbs and assorted plants from the garden room. It pays a few silver, but is upgraded to gold if we can bring back an entire Glade Mob. Apparently, they are stuffed full of things that both the alchemist and apothecary want.”
“I’ve got one for healing potions.” Adam spoke up. “They are selling for a premium. Apparently, people are showing up all over the Kingdoms with mysterious wounds, and the healers can’t keep up with what is being demanded of them. The downside to this job is that if it turns out the potions are poisoned, they will only pay a few copper. The poison isn’t useful on weapons, apparently.”
Dale nodded happily, this was a good chance at some cash. “I have a request from Evan; that we look for a new area that may be appearing. Apparently, precious metals and minerals are becoming rarer, he thinks it is a sign that a new mining area will be appearing. If so, we may have steady work as escorts.” The others seemed happy enough with this knowledge, so Dale sighed in relief. He really wanted to help out his friend.
