Dungeon World
A Dungeon Core Experience
Dungeon World Series
Written By: Jonathan Brooks
Cover Design: Yvonne Less, Art 4 Artists
Edited By: Celestian Rince
Copyright ©2019 Jonathan Brooks
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
The following is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, businesses, corporations, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to any actual persons, places, or events is purely coincidental.
Cover Design Copyright ©2019 Yvonne Less, Art 4 Artists
Dedication
To my wife, Melody, who encourages me to write better every day. And, for my daughter – who is always coming up with weird combinations of creatures in her head.
Thanks always to my beta-readers! Without your input, my stories wouldn’t be nearly as good!
Grant Harrell
Douglas Geyer
Aaron Wiley
Maryam Winters
Sean Hall
Tnega Terces
Table of Contents
Dedication
I – Newborn
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
II – Humans
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Part III – The Dungeon Adventurer Syndicate
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Part IV – Gatecross
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Part V – Core Power
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Author’s Note
Books by Jonathan Brooks
I – Newborn
Chapter 1
“Do you seriously believe they gave up looking for us?” a light, feminine voice tinged with a bit of heat invaded his mind.
“No, but it’s been a long time since we’ve seen any sign of them,” a deeper, calmer voice responded.
“That doesn’t mean anything – you know that.”
“True, but what’s the alternative? Move somewhere else? This is the backend of nowhere – there isn’t anywhere else to go.”
“I’m just worried about the safety of our son.”
“There’s no safe place anywhere, Pyra. Especially with…his condition.”
Fredwynklemossering, otherwise known as Fred to his friends (or, at least he’d like to think that if he had any), listened to his parents talking in what they thought was a super-secret mode of communication. It had been years since it had been secret, though; as soon as he turned eight years old, he had gained some sort of ability which allowed him to eavesdrop on their conversations pretty much from anywhere. He had been slightly confused at first at what he had started hearing, but being a mischievous (though reserved) child when he was younger, it didn’t take long for him to figure it out. And, of course, he never told them he could hear them talking; he’d learned a whole lot more than he would’ve otherwise.
But that was half a lifetime ago; he had just turned sixteen last week and was looking forward to their promise that he could finally explore outside. He would, of course, have an escort of sorts, though he was so used to being chaperoned by his bodyguards that he rarely noticed their presence anymore. Not that they were necessarily needed at home, but his parents could be a bit…ok, very…overprotective of their only offspring. It was rare that he was ever truly alone, not even when he slept; there was also a silent guardian or two watching over him when he had to relieve himself.
In fact, the only times he had felt truly free was when he had managed to slip away when their attention was distracted and hid somewhere for a couple of minutes or (less likely) hours. His parents, especially his mother, always reprimanded him whenever he was caught – but it was worth it for even the illusion of privacy. And, even though he would still have some supervision, the promise of finally “leaving the nest” – as they liked to call it – far outweighed the extra witnesses to his freedom.
Don’t get him wrong – he loved his parents. It was only that they could be stifling at times, warning him off from exploring the more dangerous parts of his home; not that that stopped him – he knew every inch of his residence like the back of his hand. He could even navigate the “dangerous” parts with ease, aided by a few of his skills he had picked up over the years. His bodyguards either didn’t care that he was taking risks, or they knew he could take care of himself; either way, he could essentially explore his place with impunity – at least from his “shadows”.
Right now he was heading toward his own place, a basic shelter made from scavenged materials; it wasn’t large or pretty – with just enough room for a small mat made of reeds he had gathered from around a nearby pond – but it was his. After Fred had finally left the “nursery” he had spent more than half of his life in, he wanted his own place made with his two hands and without help from his parents. He knew they could help immensely in making whatever he wanted (and they had offered to help); however, it wouldn’t be the same as doing it himself. Even at a young age, he had learned how to fend and provide for himself – this was just another aspect of his illusion of independence.
Grabbing his hand-made bag from the peg it was hanging off of, he proceeded to stuff it full of supplies: extra food (mana-formed and tasteless, but it was all he had ever known), a small coil of rope, a few concentrated Fire Stones his mother had created for him to help build fires, a waterskin containing a Water Stone that would provide fresh water for longer than he would be gone, and a few other odds and ends he thought he might need. And, of course, he grabbed his two most precious possessions – two steel knives that were wickedly sharp and could cut through almost anything with ease. Or, at least, everything that he had come across in his explorations.
Quickly slinging the now-full bag on his back and attaching his two knives to his belt sheaths, he raced toward where he knew he would find his parents. It was early, but he was eager to get the day started; it was his first time venturing out from their home and he didn’t want to waste a minute of it. Not that the time of day seemed to mean anything to his folks – they were always awake and alert for danger whenever he saw them. He didn’t know if they ever relaxed; they were constantly on the lookout for…something.
They never told him or mentioned exactly what they were afraid or nervous about, nor did they reveal anything in their “secret” communications; they obviously both knew what they were referring to and didn’t need to restate it. There were many times when he wanted to ask them directly what they were so paranoid about, but then he’d have to reveal his skill in listening to their hidden conve
rsations. It had been so long that he had kept his own secret that he worried disclosing his ability would create an awkwardness between them he didn’t want.
One day I’ll ask about it – but not today! Today was all for him; he didn’t want to spoil it by souring the mood, which he was sure would happen if he broached the subject. Another day, he promised himself.
It didn’t take him too long to get to where his parents were located; although he had permission to live off by himself, they only allowed him to do so if he were still “near”. Near meant within 200 yards of their own abode – just out of sight, though easy enough to contact if necessary, in an emergency. Not that they’d ever had an emergency (as far as he could remember), but Fred agreed to the stipulation to appease them.
He had to carry his bag as he walked through a hidden opening at the far end of the cavern wall, which was cleverly obscured in between the shadowed rock formations. He squeezed through the crack, rubbing his body through the familiar (and slightly worn) entrance. If this had been his first time there, he would’ve been hard-pressed to find it; fortunately, he had traveled through it so many times he could find the spot with his eyes closed if he needed to.
He barely fit through the last few feet – have I really grown that much over the last week? – but he eventually tumbled out into a small circular cave that was largely devoid of any ornamentation. Floating in the middle of the room were two brightly glowing spherical-shaped gems the size of his head: one blue and one red.
“This isn’t right, Aquel, I just can’t let him go – can’t we just keep him here for another century or two?”
“We’ve talked about this; he’s not safe here and…with his condition…I don’t think he would last that long. Remember, this isn’t goodbye – he’s just leaving for a couple of days and then he’ll be back. He’s got to learn the ways of the wider world; we can’t keep him cooped up here forever. Eventually, he’ll end up leaving, but it will be up to him. You know just as well as I do that he doesn’t belong here – this is for his own good.”
“I know that, but it doesn’t seem fair. Why couldn’t he have been born normally…”
I don’t belong here? What’s he talking about? Fred had heard them talk about him behind his back for years, always referencing how different he was – he was used to it by then. But the talk of him leaving permanently was new; all he wanted was a little freedom to explore outside of their dwelling – not to leave forever. And why would it be for my own good to leave behind the only home I’ve ever known, not to mention those that I love?
The confusion on his face must not have been evident, as his father spoke to him. “Son, there you are! I see you’re packed and ready to go, early and eager, huh?” If he hadn’t heard the inaudible conversation only moments ago, he probably wouldn’t have noticed the slight hitch in his voice. “Let’s see, do you have enough supplies for your ‘adventure’?”
“Oh, yes – let me make you some more food; don’t want you going hungry now, do we?” his mother interjected, and before Fred could say a word, a pile of small, white, and (he knew from personal experience) tasteless orbs appeared at his feet.
“Uh…no, I’m good – I’ve got everything I need right here,” Fred responded absently as he patted his bag. He was still trying to make sense of what he had overheard and missed some of what his father was saying.
“—and just wanted to tell you how proud of you I am,” he said, before continuing. “I know we’ve been a little overprotective of you over the years—” you could say that— “but I promise you – it was for your own safety. You’ve seen how dangerous it can be in here if you’re not careful; the world out there can be even worse. I want you to be careful over the next couple of days and don’t do anything foolish – I know firsthand how much you like to explore and poke your nose into things that you have no business messing with. And I’m not just talking about the incident two weeks ago…”
Fred felt himself blush at his father saying how proud he was of him; he had rarely known him to express his feelings so…plainly before. His father, Aquelsterico (or Aquel for short), was usually quite reserved – to hear him open up so much was a pleasant experience. His embarrassment at the mentioning of his “oops” moment a few weeks ago only made his blush deepen even further.
“I want you to have a good time, though like your father said, try to be careful. Just remember that we love you and you’ll always have a home with us here.”
Finally, a way to ask about what they were talking about. “I love you both too, but what did you mean by that? Are you kicking me out?”
They both seemed flustered by his question. “Uh, no – nothing like that. Just, you know, who knows what the future may hold. Besides, have you thought about what you want to do when you get a little older? I don’t expect you’ll want to hang around this place forever, do you?” his father asked, recovering his composure.
Nice job, Dad, turning it back on me. “N-no, not necessarily. Maybe when I’ve explored a little bit outside, I’ll have a better idea.”
“Well, then, we’ll talk more about what the future has in store for you when you get back. I love you, son – now give your mother a hug before you go.”
Why does this feel like a final goodbye for some reason? With small tears threatening to cloud his eyes, he walked up to the floating, red-glowing gem and placed his arms around it, hugging it to his chest. He could feel the warmth increase against his threadbare shirt as his mother “hugged” him back.
He left after a few more farewells and promises to be careful, squeezing through the entrance/exit crevice again, dragging his bag behind him. Before he left completely, he looked back at his parents floating next to each other, their love obvious in the way they hovered close to each other – their glow fading in and out together in perfect harmony, just like his own heartbeat.
The last thing he caught a glimpse of before he left was the small mound of extra food his mother had created melting into the ground, the mana used in its creation being reabsorbed into the dungeon.
Chapter 2
Fred picked up his two bodyguards, or shadows as he liked to call them. They hadn’t had to actually protect him from anything in a long, long time; they were more like his flickering shadow he saw reflected upon the dungeon walls as he passed a few torches steadily and inexhaustibly burning throughout the hallways – present, but not really serving much purpose. They weren’t originally given names or any type of personality, though he did end up naming them in his head and giving them their own genders.
Always behind his left side, Firbey was a small fire elemental that bobbed along the air behind him, a condensed ball of flame no larger than his own head at her core. He had seen her become larger, though, as she expanded her flame to create whatever form she wanted to; however, her power would be dispersed through her new form as well, diluting the heat of the flames she created as she grew larger. Essentially, she could grow large enough to fill a large cavern, but instead of being able to burn anything, she would end up just making the place slightly warm.
Which was great on those nights during the supposed “winter” (which he had never actually seen, as it was only evident outside the dungeon) when the nights grew much colder; he had learned that his bodyguards could follow simple requests – including growing larger and warming up his shelter – as long as it didn’t endanger him.
The reverse was also true; she could condense even more and become much, much hotter. When he was really young, he had even seen Firbey become so small and hot that she was able to crack and liquefy small sections of the cavern wall. The action scared him at first, but she had only been doing that to kill an invading wild beast that had ventured into the dungeon. He couldn’t remember exactly what the beast looked like – other than having fangs nearly the size of his head – but he did remember its screams and howls as it was burned alive. Not exactly the best dream material for a four-year-old.
On his right side and behind hi
m, a giant mottled-green frog that came up to his waist hopped along, his vacant stare belying the attention he focused on the dungeon they passed through. Frozzles (he came up with their names when he was very young) didn’t look very threatening, but Fred had seen him snatch a hostile bug out of the air nearly 20 feet away with his tongue – which was uncomprehendingly sticky. In addition, the massive amphibian could squirt an acidic poison from his back, which could and did cover anything that came within five feet.
Strangely enough, the acidic poison also acted as an accelerant; he had seen a few creatures covered in the gooey substance screaming out in pain, only to scream louder when Firbey lit it up with an accelerated boost of flames. Things like that didn’t happen all the time inside the dungeon, but they happened frequently enough over the years that it didn’t faze him anymore. Ah, the memories.
Firbey and Frozzles were two of the strongest defenders his parents’ dungeon held, though they didn’t really need much; the only threats that really existed were from wild beasts who sometimes ventured into the joint-element dungeon. The traps and lesser creatures defending it were more than enough to hold back anything he had seen before – which, he had to admit, hadn’t been a lot. Being located in the “backend of nowhere” (as his father called it) didn’t lead to many other threats around those parts, evidently.
He jumped over a small thin line of fire placed along the ground, barely visible but placed where you could see it if you knew to look for it. He did it automatically with hardly a glance at it, however; he had traveled so many times through the tunnels that he didn’t have to pay it too much attention. If he had stepped on it, though, it would’ve caused a curtain of super-hot flames to cover the entire hallway – which would burn him terribly if not kill him outright. He had seen it demonstrated once when his mother, a Fire Element dungeon core, instructed Firbey to trigger it. The fire elemental was unharmed of course, but the heat Fred remembered feeling from the trap was enough of a warning.
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