The Dungeon Without a System - Chapter 59
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The Fifth Floor, The Dungeon, Medea Island
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Jerrad felt relief when they’d finally fought their way past the hordes of monsters to reach the pedestal, thinking their ordeal would soon be over.
That relief turned to confusion when they found the key missing and glowing red writing on a metal plate.
“Four Fifths? What is that supposed to mean?” Flasa, who had been the first to reach the pedestal, asked in confusion. “What’s mathematics got to do with the key?” Her party member, Bertram, rolled his eyes at her. After using them to fire beams of light at a swathe of rushing monsters, he spoke up.
“It’s Four of Five, Flasa. I assume there are another four keys somewhere in the forest. Haythem, didn’t you say there were other clearings like this one?” He said, raising his voice over the din of screeching monsters.
“Aye, I did!” Haythem shouted back at him, cleaving a monster in twain as he did. “The other two I saw were about the same distance from this one.”
“We’ll retreat to the Castle then.” Isid declared. With a twirling leap, she beheaded two likewise leaping monsters, then bisected another lengthways. Jerrad was suddenly struck by the thought that these fungal creatures didn’t bleed when cut; the pieces just fell to the ground, unmoving.
They quickly left the forest, having had plenty of practice in fighting retreats over recent weeks. They made their way back to the castle and, after reaching what Isid judged a fifth of the way around the outer walls, walked out to the forest again.
As with previous delves, they encountered only one or two monsters, to begin with. It turned out they didn’t quite judge the distance correctly but managed to find the key before reaching the point of retreat. Duncan snatched the key, prompting the green numbers to turn red and the leftmost number to tick down.
“Hah! I was right. Five keys… I wonder what’ll happen when we’ve used them all?” Bertram mused. A brief light-beam glare cut down three fungal monsters before the man grimaced and pulled out a potion.
“Back to the castle, then!” Jerrad called out between slashes. “We’ve got a Guardian to defeat!”
Their spirits were running high as they made their way through the castle, and they only had to deal with the odd Shadow Monster ambush. They were familiar with the castle’s layout and knew the fastest route to the Guardian’s tower. As they climbed the staircase, the mood shifted from eager and excited to completely serious.
While excited and eager to get another shot at the Guardian, Jerrad knew it would have been resurrected by now. He also knew it would remember them. The dungeon may have compensated for its weakness since their last battle.
They approached the locked door with its rhyming puzzle and inserted the rod of fungus into the appropriate hole. The doors gave a satisfying click and swung open on their own. They rushed in, ready for another battle.
The fight itself was… strangely disappointing. It had taken barely five minutes for them to overwhelm and break its core, even with its new, unexpected beam attack.
“That wasn’t the same monster,” Isid stated as they stared at the broken lens and cracked core. “It was far weaker, had no knowledge of our tactics, and most damningly, its mana signature was different.” She let out an aggrieved sigh. “It doesn’t make sense. Why make the other Guardians immortal but not this one.” She let the question hang in the air, a thoughtful frown curling her lip.
“But the Guardian, and the Shadow Monsters for that matter, are not like the others at all,” Haythem stated. “Normal monsters are flesh and blood, raised from normal animals to their current forms. Strange levels of intelligence aside, the monsters of this dungeon are the same. The Guardian and Shadow Monsters, however… You said they’re made of metal?” Isid nodded.
“They are.” She replied. “The same metal, though it seems to exhibit different properties. The Shadow monsters can go intangible at will, while the Guardian cannot. If the cause of their abilities is not the metal itself, but something else…”
The group was quiet for a time.
“Well, we should get a move on.” Jerrad piped up. “The sixth floor won’t explore itself. Does everyone have their cowls and cloaks?” He received nods all around. Haythem’s party pulled out golden cloaks, edged in an off-white meant to resemble platinum. Pataer’s in a deep blue, while Jerrad and Isid’s own were forest green.
Each member of their raid group had been given enchanted cloaks made by the same Enchanter that had attempted to replicate that key. Since they were the vanguard of this dungeon, the ones exploring the unexplored, they were given the cloaks pro-bono, the guild itself shouldering the cost. All those made afterward would need to be purchased from the man himself.
The cloaks themselves were wonders. The details went a bit over his head. Still, Jerrad had caught enough of the explanation to know they would protect the wearer from extreme heat and were almost entirely fireproof. The cloaks ran off ambient mana when they could, supplementing that with mana from the wearer in low-mana areas. Not that that would be a problem in the dungeon.
The cowls did likewise but focused on making the air entering the hood breathable and cool. It wouldn’t do to save them from heatstroke, only to die because the air they were breathing was too dry.
Beyond that, the cloaks were made of resilient fabric and enchanted specifically for durability and toughness.
Once their cloaks were fastened, the group moved through the exit and down the long hallway.
A vision of the Fourth Hell on the mortal plane… They would need all the advantages they could get.
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The Dungeon, Medea Island, Kalenic Sea
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Those cloaks were fascinating. They had an almost magnetic draw on the free-floating mana around them, and I could see the temperature immediately around each guilder drop to tolerable levels.
Well, they’d dealt with that hazard relatively quickly. I don’t know how they’d hold up to the higher temperatures near the lava lakes, nor how easily they could be damaged. Perhaps if I damage the cloaks enough, the enchantment will break?
I watched as the raid group of Isid’s, Haythem’s, and the Cliche’s parties navigated the thin track from the entrance down to the Scorched Plains. There were a couple of points where the path fell out from beneath them, but they were deft in their avoidance of them.
A quick check showed that Igna and most of her court were in their cavern while a few weaker golems patrolled outside. The demon goats were hanging out in their cliff-side village, which reminded me very much of ancient South American societies. All stone domiciles half-dug into the cliff, with barely-there paths only they would be able to navigate easily.
Looking back at the raid group, they were currently exploring the plains. The ground here was covered in at least an inch of ash, and the man from Isid’s party, Duncan, was studying the tracks they stumbled upon. “A large group headed to the east, recently. It was most likely the Elemental and its court.” He informed them.
“We’ll go west then,” Isid decided. “When it comes to Elementals, you avoid them and fight only as a last resort.”
“How much experience do you have with them?” Haythem inquired, piquing my own interest.
“We’ve encountered a few before,” Jerrad answered for his wife. “They’re almost always more powerful than an experienced platinum and far harder to damage than you would think. Being made of their element gives them both advantages and disadvantages; A fire Elemental, like the one here, is literally made of fire. It has no core you could damage, nor would a normal sword harm it in any way. What could a sword do against fire, anyway?” He asked that last question as if it was rhetorical,
“If you wanted to hurt an elemental, you need its opposite or a weapon enchanted with its opposite. In this case, water. Ice and darkness would do fine, in a pinch, but not as well as pure water.” And none of these guilders wielded those magics. Lucky for me.
“Soo… We avoid this one until we have an answer for it?” Mage asked, with electricity arcing down her hair in what I assumed was a nervous tick of some sort.
“Exactly right,” Isid answered with a nod. With that, they moved west towards the Demon Goat’s village. I alerted the goats of the incoming guilders and directed the mages among them to prepare a large-scale shield spell. I had yet to think to add such enchantment to their village, but I probably would after this.
It wasn’t long before the guilders noticed the village. Their eyesight was fantastic at this level. I was sure they could pick out individual monsters moving between the buildings.
“What’s that? Over there, halfway up what looks like a vertical cliff face.” “It looks like a village to me.” “Inhabited too. Monsters with… black and red skin?” “Looks like fur or wool to me.” “Why would they have Fur in a place like this?” “Who knows why the dungeon does anything.”
By the time they reached the base of the cliff, which was about an eighty-degree angle, the villagers were ready. The non-combatants had retreated to the cavern behind the village. Those connected to basic respawn crystals had taken up arms and armor. Mages were prepared for long-range defense and bombardment. The highly agile warriors were ready to close in and knock the guilders back down the cliff.
In defiance of my expectations, the group all looked to Isid, who stepped forwards and used some kind of spell that amplified her voice. “Hello there! Is there one amongst you who could come down here and represent your village?”
What. Just… What? They’re… actually considering speaking to the goats? Diplomacy, rather than just killing everything they come across?
Why now? What’s different? Is it.. the village? This… is the first time they’ve found a village of monsters, regardless of if the majority of the village is beyond the cavern’s wall.
I waited as the Demon Goats elected the strongest amongst them to descend the cliff. This particular specimen was male, and half-again the size of the others. Not in a ridiculous way, but he was proportionally larger. The next few minutes were tense as the goat traversed the almost sheer cliff on the tips of his hooves.
When he reached the ground, he stood with a straight back and a challenging glint in his eye.
“I am Ba-a-a-a-hument.” The goat stated with a bleat. “Wha-a-a-t is your angle, here? Do you not wish to slaughter us a-a-a-all?” I almost burst into laughter! It must be some kind of mental tick. The only question is… Do I attempt to fix it, or just leave it be?
Who am I kidding; of course, I’ll leave it be.
“Do you speak for the dungeon, Bahumet?” Isid asked politely.
“I speak for my village. I would not Da-a-a-a-re presume to speak for the Creator.” He stated with an almost indignant look about him.
Isid glanced back at her fellow guilders and then again at the monster.
“I apologize,” she replied. “This is the first time we have encountered a village in this place. We would… prefer not to slaughter civilized beings like yourselves.”
“Why change now?” The goat challenged. “You have ‘sla-a-a-aughtered’ many Kobolds since you began invading our home. Just because you have not seen their villages does not mean they don’t ha-a-a-a-ave them.”
The Guilders began looking distinctly uncomfortable.
“We are… aware that the monsters of this dungeon are more intelligent than we first thought,” Isid stated. “To be honest, no other monster, nor even a group of monsters, has reached the level of self-awareness the monsters here have.” To my surprise, the goat nodded solemnly.
“The Creator cares greatly for His creations,” the goat preached. “All those raised to sapience are given spaces to live their lives outside of defending our home.” That statement, more than anything, seemed to rock the group.
“Well… be that as it may, perhaps we can come to some sort of agreement.” Isid broached. “Is there anything you could trade or find yourself deficient in?” Bahumet frowned.
“We ha-a-a-a-ave an abundance of our wool, which is insulating. But we do not see why giving you guilders our resources would a-a-a-a-aid the Creator. We already have everything we need.” Isid frowned and looked up at the village.
“I am sure there is something we could provide that would be worth your wool. Next time we delve, I will bring a list of items with descriptions, and we can come to an agreement that would satisfy all involved.”
“We sha-a-a-a-al see.”
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The Sixth Floor, The Dungeon, Medea Island
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Flasa watched the bipedal sheep monster bound up the cliff with a hawk-like gaze. Its hooves found purchase in the smallest cracks and outcroppings, displaying incredible balance and strength in the way it would push itself to the next tiny crack.
It soon reached the village; a series of stone dwellings resting within a concave section of the wall. That section contained quite a few of the dwellings, each having a leather sheet as a door. Did they carve their homes from the rock, or did the dungeon make them for the monsters?
“That went… well?” She said, a little unsure.
“It was certainly something,” Bertram answered sardonically. “The first civil conversation between guilders and intelligent dungeon monsters.” He stated wistfully.
“Not the first,” Isid said, getting confused looks from the two parties of newly-advanced Platinums. “But certainly significant, nonetheless.” Come on, we still have plenty of exploring to do. Duncan, the timekeeper?”
Duncan pulled a brass cylinder from a pouch. The cylinder had twenty-four notches along a spiraling line and bore a red dot enchanted to follow the line. Duncan studied the device for a second before returning it to his pouch. “It’s an hour until sundown. We entered this morning, and it still took us all day to get down here.” He sounded a bit exasperated,
Jerrad nodded with a frown. “We’ll have to make camp somewhere. Not here, of course. Who knows when the Elemental will turn up again. No, there has to be a safer place somewhere.”
“Why not just go through the night?” The bowman of Paetor’s party asked. Flasa wracked her brain, but she just couldn’t remember his name. Haythem barked out a short laugh.
“You do remember the Third and Fifth, right?” He asked, the question obviously rhetorical. Everyone knew the stories. “This dungeon becomes far more dangerous after the sun goes down. Whether we make camp or not. At least by making camp we can somewhat fortify a space and defend ourselves.” Isid nodded.
“That.” She said. “Also, while we can go a few days without sleep, that doesn’t mean you don’t get tired. Trust me, you don’t want to be at less than full awareness in this dungeon.” The bowman took the chastisement for what it was and nodded silently.
As the group searched for an appropriate spot to make camp, Flasa scouted ahead of the group with Duncan. It took most of the hour until ‘sundown’ to find something that looked both defendable and hidden.
Beyond the large central cavern and the lake of lava on the far side of it, there were smaller side caverns. Larger than an ordinary cave, and the rock here wasn’t hot to the touch or covered in ash. The cavern they’d chosen had an entrance on the smaller side and a half-crumbled wall and pillar in the center. Harald was immediately taken with the ruins and the writing carved into the bricks.
“Though it’s similar in design to the ruins on the Third, with some subtle differences. The pillar here is carved differently, and the bricks are smaller. The pattern in which the bricks are stacked in is slightly different. A different time period, perhaps?” The man murmured fervently to himself as he wrote his observations in a scroll.
Rolling their eyes, the group prepared an area next to the wall. Shifts were arranged, and dinner was eaten. Just in time, too. Though there was still an orange glow from the copious amounts of lava, the mana-sun’s brighter light in the ceiling dimmed to nothing.
Outside the cavern, the sounds they heard made them glad they’d found it. Great shrieks and cries, the beating of wings…
Well. Flasa wouldn’t want to face them alone. She caught a glimpse of one during her shift.
She snuck up to the entrance and peeked outside. The light from the lava was just enough to highlight the flying animals. Large wings suspending a large torso, with two short legs sporting three-toed claws… These were actual monsters. They were no mere mana mutants; they resembled no animal she had ever seen before.
Upon returning to her bedroll at the end of her shift, she was haunted by their roars. What awesome creatures…
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