Dungeon World: A Dungeon Core Experience

by Jonathan Brooks

  Farther down the current hallway, powerful jets of water were spraying out of the wall in a pattern that he had memorized long ago; wait two seconds – jump forward two feet – stop for three seconds – jump backwards one foot – immediately turn to the side – jump to the side four feet…and so on. It only took five minutes to make it through, but Fred was so impatient to get outside that he nearly got hit by the very last jet, missing blasting his face off by less than an inch. He could feel the spray from the jet still on his skin as he left the trap behind. I’ve got to calm down – freedom isn’t going anywhere.

  His father’s trap wasn’t designed to kill anyone straight-out like the fire trap he had bypassed; instead, the powerful jets of water would send whatever it hit flying into some spikes set up against the wall. That wasn’t to say that the water itself wouldn’t hurt, as the pressure behind the jets would take your skin off if you stood in front of it for too long – but that wasn’t its main purpose.

  Frozzles passed through the jets of water as if they weren’t there; the giant frog almost seemed to absorb the high-pressure liquid as it hit his body. As he was a water-based creature, the element could only enhance instead of hurting him – hence, the absorption. By the time he got through, the giant frog looked just a bit larger than he had when going into the trap. Fred knew the effect wouldn’t last long, as Frozzles’ mana-fueled body would reduce the amount of the water element inside of it over time, releasing it back into the dungeon for reuse by his father.

  As for Firbey, it was simple enough for her to shrink down and float over the jets, passing through a small channel cut into the ceiling above. The heat that the fire elemental gave off produced a bit of steam in her wake, but not enough to detrimentally affect her progress.

  Fred bypassed or expertly maneuvered through nearly a dozen more traps on his way to the dungeon entrance. Most of it was done through muscle-memory or just memorization, as he had made the trek to stare outside his home many a time over the years – which freed up his mind to think about the conversation he overheard between his parents.

  What are they so afraid of? Who are they hiding from? Why is it safer for me outside this dungeon? All these questions and more sifted through his mind, urgent enough that he almost turned back and demanded answers from his parents. His enthusiasm for finally being able to leave the dungeon overrode this thought, though he promised himself that nothing would stop him from demanding answers from the two dungeon cores once he got back. That didn’t mean he couldn’t speculate while he had the time.

  His parents were fairly hesitant to freely share details about their past and about their relationship, including how they met. Nor would they talk about why they were in hiding (though he hadn’t understood that they actually were until the last year or so), or if he had any other family. He could get over not having those details, but the one thing he wanted to know was why he was different and suffering from his…condition.

  It wasn’t long after he had learned how to talk when he asked his parents about his origins and why he was different from them. They were all too happy to explain the mating and procreation practices of dungeon cores. Approximately every 100 years, a dungeon core that identified itself as female (it was dependent on their personal feelings) was able to “mate” with another core that identified itself as a male. Since they didn’t have any reproductive organs, their identification was entirely of their own volition, though once they chose one – they stuck with it for the rest of their existence. Which could be centuries or millennia, as there wasn’t a limit on their lifespan.

  When they mated, they combined their mana signatures in a commingling of powerful forces; their “joining” usually took anywhere from days up to weeks or even months, depending on the innate power of those that joined together. Once the act was complete, a much smaller, weaker dungeon core was born. His parents were unique in the fact that they were both present in his life; newborn dungeon cores usually stayed with one or the other parent, learning how to construct a dungeon and manipulate the mana within, creating traps and forming defenders from their available resource pool.

  After the “baby” dungeon core had grown and learned enough – usually after half a century or so – it was released into the wild, to take control of a territory that was usually set aside for it before it was even born. And then, after it hit a century old, it could choose its “gender” and could procreate.

  “How many dungeon cores are there out there? Hundreds or thousands?” he remembered asking at the time.

  His father had laughed at his naivete. “Thousands? You’re thinking too small, son – think millions! Alone, the Water faction has over half a million itself, and we are one of the smallest—” He didn’t continue, shutting up abruptly as if he had said too much already. He refused to expand on his comment, stating that he didn’t want to talk about it.

  Regardless of his parents’ reluctance to talk about their past and about those “factions”, he had learned more over the years as they let things slip. The most important thing he learned (though suspected was probably more accurate) was that the mating between two opposite factions was not only unheard of and frowned upon, but also forbidden. He didn’t know why, especially when two dungeon cores were in as much love as his parents obviously were, but that seemed to be the case. That’s the only reason I can think of why they are hiding out here.

  It could also supply a valid explanation as to what happened with his birth. Instead of a tiny, gem-shaped dungeon core, Fred materialized in its place. Supposedly, he was shaped exactly like a human, which he never seen before – but they obviously had. After a thorough exploration of his body and internal biological systems, they determined that there was no dungeon core inside of him. They still had no idea why that was.

  Apparently, even brand-new dungeon cores were “born” with the ability to do everything they needed to in order to survive: absorb and manipulate mana, create their own dungeon, fill it with traps and defenders, and even communicate with other dungeon cores. Of course, as a newborn dungeon core, their ability to do all of that was at a very, very limited level; the dungeon that they could create at day one could encompass all of a couple of inches around the core, with the traps and defenders in proportion. And despite being able to actually do everything, they didn’t know what they needed to do.

  Therefore, while absorbing mana over time and growing larger both in terms of size and power, they learned how to properly defend themselves – which was why it usually took over fifty years for the new core to be able to survive on its own. Although the transfer of mana to another core was possible and was used frequently during its training, the growing process couldn’t be sped up; it took time to fully absorb and restructure the primal energy so that it could be incorporated inside the cores.

  All of this essentially meant that new offspring were born being able to take care of themselves, as they didn’t need to be fed, clothed, cleaned, and kept warm – but not Fred. Whereas cores only needed at least the smallest amount of ambient mana to survive, his parents had to learn how to feed and raise a small baby that they couldn’t communicate with right away from a different species altogether. The fact that they didn’t shy away from the challenge made Fred love them even more.

  While he learned all about the history and initial formation of a new dungeon core, they didn’t teach him specifics on dungeon management, trap formation, defender creation, or any of the other myriad things they would normally teach their offspring. He was sure that they would’ve taught him, but there was no way for him to learn.

  Although his parents were dungeon cores – he wasn’t.

  It wasn’t until he was older and could really understand the differences between them that he was also able to see the similarities. Being the spawn of two dungeon cores wasn’t for nothing; while he couldn’t build and run a dungeon, he did have access to a lot of the same benefits that they had. He couldn’t manipulate mana as they could, but he could see/sense i
t and – almost – touch it; it was always tauntingly out of reach, in his face and yet he couldn’t grasp it. He tried – many, many times – over the years, but there was obviously something missing.

  He had also learned how to sense the traps inside their dual-element dungeon, both through years of practice and by sensing the particular mana signature they contained. Just being able to sense them didn’t make him immune to their deadliness, but it definitely helped him navigate his way through them safely.

  The dungeon defenders were also something that he had information about; he could look at them and instinctively know what type of defender it was, their current “level” (he had learned that the higher their “level”, the more powerful they seemed), and some basic stats about them. These stats included values for their current health, how strong they were, how fast they were, what kind of defenses they had, etc. None of the dungeon defenders in his parents’ dungeon had a level higher than 5 (other than Firbey and Frozzles, who were both level 10); however, they really didn’t need anything more powerful than that because even the strongest wild beast he had seen venture inside was only level 4.

  But that was about all he could determine about the wild creatures that he had seen – their name and their level. Everything else was either hidden from him or was unknown.

  And, of course, he had the skill that allowed him to listen to his parents talk to each other. He didn’t try to communicate back to them – because he didn’t want to reveal to them that he could hear them – and because he had a feeling that it wouldn’t work. From what he understood of his ability, he needed to be able to manipulate mana in order for it to work; because he could at least sense and see it, he could hear the communication – but not talk back.

  But that was fine, because since Fred wasn’t a “core”, he now had the freedom to come and go as he pleased. While dungeon cores could move their entire dungeon, they could only do so at a rate of about 500 feet a year – and the space they needed to move to had to be currently unclaimed by another dungeon. Or, they could abandon their current dungeon and have one of their defenders carry them away from it to establish another one somewhere else.

  However, they needed to be desperate to do that because they would end up losing the concentrations of mana that they might’ve spent centuries building up inside their previous dungeon. He suspected that this was what happened to his parents, though they never told him that outright.

  And that freedom that he now would enjoy was at hand. He skirted by the water snakes near the entrance, careful not to step on their tails. They would never attack him – all of the defenders were instructed not to – but he didn’t want to push his luck. Plus, there was no reason to accidentally hurt them; they were just doing their job.

  He stopped just inside the entrance, looking out at the cold barren wasteland outside; day after day he remembered staring at the world out there, hoping and dreaming that one day he would be able to explore every inch of it just as he had explored every inch of his home. He was always forbidden from leaving the dungeon in no uncertain terms; despite his mischievousness and penchant for breaking the rules, this was one that he didn’t dare break. He wasn’t sure if it was some sort of innate instinct, but he always had the feeling that if he did disobey, it would be a monumental mistake.

  And so he had never stepped even one foot outside the dungeon, his home for over sixteen years.

  Until now.

  Chapter 3

  A blast of frigid air nearly knocked him over after he took his first few hesitant steps outside the entrance of the dungeon. It’s much colder out here than I thought it would be. Fortunately, he had taken his mother’s advice and bundled up, his layers of clothing keeping almost all of the wind away from his skin. It was a cloudy day, the sun that he had caught glimpses of now and then hidden somewhere behind the light-grey cover. He looked up in wonder at the sky; it was just so…big. He was used to being enclosed in small spaces and the sight of such openness excited and – admittedly – scared him.

  Turning back to what he was doing, he walked further out. Once he stepped far enough away from the opening to the dungeon, the gusts died off until it was only a gentle breeze. Still cold though.

  He turned around, getting a look at the outside of his home for the first time. Rising out of the ground stood a small hill made out of jagged rocks about 50 feet tall and twice that wide. The entrance to the dungeon was only a small arched portal just short of twice his height; it was cut into the rock face in smooth lines, the only evidence that it wasn’t a natural cavern inside. He knew that the bulk of the expertly crafted and designed tunnels and rooms that made up his parents’ place was located underground; nevertheless, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed at how…plain and boring it looked from the outside.

  There was so much life and color inside the dungeon that to Fred it was more of a fantastical wonderland than a dangerous defensive system. But looking at it from the outside, even with a view of the cave inside the entrance, he wouldn’t have believed that all of that could exist just below his feet. I guess that if you’re hiding out, you don’t want to advertise your location to the world.

  Looking at his “shadows”, he could see that the cold air was having an effect on Firbey; the fire elemental had shrunk in upon herself, creating a blast of heat that wasn’t unwelcome. Frozzles didn’t look like he had been affected, though sometimes it was hard to tell with the blank stare he usually sported.

  Freedom! From looking out the entrance all those years, all he could see was a simple view of a bare expanse that stretched out into the distance, where it ended in a wall of brown and green that his parents told him were trees. He had never seen one up close, as the dungeon didn’t have – nor had any need of – them, so he was excited to finally get the chance to see one.

  But surely there are other, more exciting sights to see out here! He always imagined that new, wonderful things were just out of the range of his view, hiding behind the entrance to the dungeon or off to the left or right. He turned his body away from the dungeon behind him and circled around, anticipation and excitement running through his head as he took in the full splendor of his new world.

  Disappointment flooded him as all he saw was the same…sameness…he had looked at forever. He knew from his lessons with his parents that the entrance faced south, the trees in the distance part of a northern “forest”. His father warned him that they were far to the north and that there wasn’t anything of note near them; he had heard him but didn’t really understand until now.

  To the north, as far as he could see behind the hill that held the topmost portion of his home, there was nothing except the flat expanse of gently rolling hills of semi-frozen dirt and patches of vegetation that somehow could survive the harsh temperatures. In the far, far distance, he could barely make out the tops of what appeared to be massive, white-topped mountains; they were so far away, in fact, that he couldn’t accurately tell that they were mountains, but that seemed like the only explanation he could come up with by their appearance.

  When he looked to the east, he could see that the forest to the south gently drifted north before gradually petering out; it extended much further than his current location, though it stopped almost parallel with the dungeon. After that…more barren expanse.

  It looked almost identical to the west, as if his home had carved out a sizable portion of the forest in their location, leaving it bare of any sort of vegetation. He knew his parents were powerful, but he didn’t know if they could do anything like that; the mana concentrations in the surrounding air and land were so miniscule that he doubted they had the available power to do it. His mother once told him that it had taken decades for them to acquire enough mana from their surroundings to form even the most basic of dungeons. Based upon what he was seeing, he thought it might’ve been more like a century or more to get to the power levels they were at currently.

  And that was all before Fred was born.

  No won
der there isn’t anything else out here; nothing could live in a place like this for long. It was actually astonishing to him that his parents had not only managed to survive but thrive, though even the slightest bit of ambient mana was enough to sustain them. Even so, the work and dedication involved in creating a dungeon of the size they now had was impressive. Love has no limits, apparently.

  Shoving down his disappointment with his surroundings, Fred looked around and tried to figure out what he wanted to do now. Without a reason to go another direction (as there was nothing of note anywhere else), he headed south toward the trees he had constantly envisioned being able to one day see, touch, feel, and smell.

  He wasn’t a good judge of distance, because what he thought was going to take no more than an hour, ended up being a six-hour journey across the barren wasteland. What had thrown him off was the sheer size of the trees when he finally got close enough to them to make out finer details; he was expecting them to be two or three times his height – but these were more than ten times that! They were so tall that he had trouble comprehending them at first – they were literally like nothing he had seen before.

  When he was close enough to the line of trees (which stopped/started abruptly, like they had been trimmed back like a knife), he could see they had small lines of green-tinged mana flowing through them leading into the ground below. It wasn’t a lot, but it was definitely more concentrated in them than he had seen so far outside of the dungeon.

  I wonder if they absorbed all the mana from the trees they could reach – killing them – and that’s why there isn’t any nearby. He thought that might explain how they were able to initially establish some sort of defenses without falling prey to the wild beasts nearby – he had always wondered about that. He had been told that the reason that they occasionally saw the creatures trying to get inside their home was because most of them were attracted to large concentrations of mana; dungeon cores were essentially big bundles of super-concentrated mana.