The Dungeon Without a System - Chapter 66

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The Guildmistress’s Office, The Guild Hall, Medea Island

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Layla Losat was making her final preparations for the evening ahead. She ran through the list, double-checking that they were ready. There was just one thing left to confirm.

“The animals?” She asked Felin. The man hefted the cages of fertile hedgehogs and grunted a ‘check.’ “Good, then that’s everything,” Layla stated before she turned to look out the window.

“With about… ten minutes to spare, I think. Despite the late hour, the beach is a little crowded still. The last of them should clear out soon enough.” Layla sat down at her desk and raised a hand to rub her temples. “Are we doing the right thing, Felin?”

The question was said rhetorically, but Felin answered anyway.

“It’s a hard choice, Layla,” he began. “Giving it animals to make into monsters strengthens it, when we don’t know how many floors or monsters it has. But it’s giving us information in return. We have been careless with our questions before; there’s no doubt about that.”

Layla grimaced at that. It was true. They’d asked good questions that helped inform their strategies, but they hadn’t asked the right questions.

“We’ll ask the right ones this time.” She stated, confident. “We’ve been eliminating loopholes, tightening the wording, and clearing up potentially vague answers for weeks. There’s no wriggle room for anything but the whole truth.” She sighed and stood from her chair. She walked to the window and looked at the last few stragglers leaving their impromptu beach party.

“I just… I felt like a fool last time.” Layla admitted quietly. “We didn’t get anything out of the dungeon. Three questions and we didn’t get a single answer we wanted.” Felin walked up and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She reached up and put her own on top of his.

They stood there in comfortable silence for a time.

More than an hour after the sun had finally dipped below the horizon, the beach was clear, and the two made their way out the guild’s back door. With the dungeon only a short walk away, they soon reached the first cavern. They moved to the negotiation room with confidence in their strides and faces set.

The first sign that something was different was when, unlike the last time, the brick wall did not part for them.

Layla blinked in shock. The doorway was meant to open when they got close, as it had before. Perhaps… the dungeon didn’t know they were there? Layla mentally ran through the list of parties who’d delved today in her head and found herself even more confused. None of the platinum groups had even stepped into the guild hall today, much less entered the dungeon.

All were on the surface. Layla remembered they’d emerged from these dank halls late yesterday evening. Why had it yet to greet them if it wasn’t occupied monitoring a high-level delve?

Just as she was about to call out, the bricks shifted. Slowly, haltingly, the doorway was jerked open by the clawed hands of a Kobold. The same one who had acted as the dungeon’s voice last time. After a final grunt of exertion, the kobold pulled the door back entirely. Huffing, she turned to face them.

“Welcome, Guildmistress and companion,” the kobold greeted, looking… embarrassed? “My apologies for the wait, but The Creator neglected to enchant this door to be opened by any other than Himself. Please, come in.” Layla glanced at Felin as the kobold moved aside.

“That seems like quite the oversight.” She said, moving through the doorway.

“The current situation was… unforeseen. I’ll bring this oversight to The Creator’s attention when I can.” Layla found herself intrigued. What was going on in this dungeon?

They arranged themselves around the table, and Layla brought out the animals.

“A fertile breeding pair of hedgehogs.” She stated as she put the cage down. “If the dungeon is unable to answer my questions… Will you do it? If you cannot, I’ll just have to return at a later date.” The kobold sat silently for a minute, her eyes flicking between Layla and the animals. She let out a deep sigh.

“I will honor The Creator’s deal with you. Three questions answered in exchange for a breeding pair of animals.” The kobold lifted the cage and placed it on her side of the table.

“Ask.” The kobold prompted. Layla took a breath.

“Exactly how many floors exist in the dungeon at this moment, including unfinished, inactive, or otherwise unused floors,” Layla asked. The first time she’d asked about the number of floors, the answer had been…. nebulous. But, with a monster answering instead of the dungeon itself…

“There are a total of eleven floors in the dungeon.” She answered after a second of thought. Layla was slightly disappointed. She’d hoped the kobold would have been more verbose, but it must have picked up something of how the dungeon answered questions. But still, it was an answer. Just eleven, huh? It seemed like a small number, but with each floor getting larger and more extensive than the last… She moved on to the next question. There would be time to contemplate later.

“What is the general topography of each of the dungeon’s floors that we guilders have yet to reach.” The kobold looked mutinous at that question, and Layla wondered if she would refuse to answer. After a minute of this staring contest, a defeated look overtook the kobold’s face.

“The Seventh is a tunnel system. The Eighth is mountainous. The Ninth is a desert with a single canyon. The Tenth is forested. The Eleventh is largely coastal.” Well. She managed to answer the question with the minimum amount of information possible. While annoyed, Layla couldn’t find it in her to be angry at the monster. She was trying her best to defend her home while being forced to answer questions about its defenses.

“My final question…” Layla trailed off. She could ask her final prepared question about the dungeon’s Guardians. However, she was too curious about this situation not to at least try to figure out what was going on. She glanced at Felin, who shrugged. And so, she asked.

“For what reason is the Dungeon unable to meet with me personally, and how long will it be until I can meet it?” The kobold slumped, and her face scrunched up in what looked like reluctance. That look warred with one of grudging acceptance until, after a few seconds, the acceptance won out.

“The Creator is… undergoing some kind of metamorphosis.” It looked like it physically pained her to admit that fact. “It came upon Him suddenly, and I don’t know how long it will take.”

Layla found herself at a loss once again. Metamorphosis? Layla could recall no book mentioning any other dungeon undergoing such an event. Either way, the questions were answered, and the kobold escorted them out of the room. She pushed the door closed behind them, leaving Layla and Felin to make their way out of the dungeon.

Layla was lost in thought, her mind racing with possibilities and places she could find books to start her research. She was brought out of her head when Felin took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. Her head whipped around, and she could feel her cheeks reddening. They’d known each other for a long time, and he’d never…

Instead of returning to the guild, they took the path up to the overlook. For the next few hours, they decided they would forget about the dungeon and the guild.

That would be tomorrow’s problem.

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The Sixth Floor, The Dungeon, Medea Island

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Igna nodded in satisfaction, observing the assembled host. At the head of the group were the five spirits joining her on their migration. The three Potentium Spirits; Agni, Hellat, and Ashar. Logi, the unbound spirit. Titan, the Continental Golem. Though none had risen to spirit level since them, Igna could identify more than a dozen sprites close to their own transformations among the crowd.

The remaining spirit was off to the side, surrounded by his retinue, having gathered to send the migrating sprites and spirits off. Igna let her attention sweep the group once more, confirming their readiness and that they’d all gathered their possessions.

Spirits weren’t materialistic by nature. What use had they for trinkets? They fed directly on mana and required little- if any- rest. In their time on the Sixth Floor, however, many had found an item or two they’d gathered. Often it was shards of obsidian, which could be melted and shaped however the being in question wished.

“Peers and Subjects of the Fire Court. Today is a momentous occasion.” Her mental voice projected, grabbing the attention of all in range. “It is a day of celebration and a day of mourning. We celebrate our travel to a new home and mourn our parting with those remaining behind. Though we mourn, remember that one day, they might join us on Isla Feugo.”

Igna motioned Totanam forward, and the floating ball of melting metal hovered before her.

“Totanam. You have elected to remain behind and safeguard this floor as its Guardian. Unfortunately, the dungeon is indisposed and unable to supply a new body if you are defeated,” she said gravely. “Yesterday, I negotiated with the Drake-Kin Mushu and secured a replacement whenever you require one. In addition, the Fire Shamans of the Seventh Floor Drake-Kin will summon a new batch of sprites for you every three days.”

Totanam extended molten tentacles to the sides and dipped downwards, imitating a bow.

“Your efforts are more than welcome, Igna. On behalf of my court, I thank you for your forethought and consideration. You were correct in that this parting of ways is not forever. I intend to limit the size of my court to a strength no larger than our combined forces were a week ago. When we reach this number, a cadre of the strongest sprites will descend to join you on Isla Fuego.” The spirit paused here for a second.

“In time, I will raise a successor and descend myself, to join all of you on the island.” He stated grandly. “Until then, however, this is farewell.”

Totanam gave one final bow and moved back to his court.

There was a good deal more cheer and happiness among the crowd as their final goodbyes were given.

Eventually, though, the time came.

Igna led the procession through the exit door, emerging in the cramped mines of the Seventh. When it was Titan’s turn to enter, Igna watched with amusement. He was far too big to fit through the door and, with some grumbling, let the rock composing his body flow into the ground. He stopped the moment he was small enough to fit and was obviously uncomfortable without the extra mass.

They were met with a squad of Drake-kin, each monster well-adorned with armor and weapons.

“We’ve been assigned to lead you through the mines,” one spoke. A male. “We’ll take the shortest route; it should only take an hour or so.” Igna nodded to the monsters in thanks. The next hour was quiet as they were led through the winding tunnels. Igna had never been inside a mine before and was interested in what one looked like.

The tunnels were roughly carved, bearing marks from pickaxes along the walls and wooden support beams every few yards. Igna was sure the beams were unnecessary but must contribute to the ‘look’ of the floor. They briefly passed through a larger cavern and observed a large group of Drake-kin at work.

Igna had assumed the floor was carved out by the dungeon itself, but the monsters carrying pickaxes and pushing loaded minecarts down tracks proved the thought wrong. They were filthy, stone dust covering them from horn to claw. Igna heard them joking and ribbing each other, specifically the smallest of the group.

Said Drake-kin stamped its foot and pushed past the group, setting off another round of laughter.

Within ten minutes of that encounter, they were out. Igna stepped through the exit, her body melting the snow that had drifted through the doorway instantly. Directly outside the door was a small ledge, only large enough for three or four people to stand on comfortably. There was no rail preventing one from falling off.

The view was… Igna lacked the words to describe it.

To her left, a series of three peaks rose in sequence. She could see the wind stirring flurries of snow all about them and could barely make out a swaying bridge suspended over what looked like a gaping chasm. To her right, the sky seemed to go on forever. She knew it did not, that it was merely enchantments to make it seem so.

“This is where we leave you,” A male Drake-kin called from the doorway, standing to the side to let the procession of fire sprites and spirits pass. “Follow the path for a time, and you’ll be met with a group of Snowbolds. They will guide you over the Peaks.”

“I once again thank you for your guidance, noble Drake-kin.” Igna declared. “The Fire Court will remember your aid and be sure to repay it in the future.” The drake-kin waved her off.

“We only fulfilled our side of the agreement,” he insisted. “But we appreciate the thanks. Good luck on the rest of your trip!”

Igna waved as he turned and passed back through the door, then retook her place at the head of the migration.

The path the Drake-kin had mentioned was little more than a winding line clear of snow, but it was enough for her.

They continued, tireless, on the journey to reach their new home.

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The Snowbold Village, The Eighth Floor, The Dungeon

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Wave watched the group of manabeings huddled in the center of the village. They’d had some unfortunate timing, getting to the Eighth just as night was about to fall. With nightfall came a blizzard that would hang around the entire next day. By now, every snowbold could easily navigate the mountains, even in a white-out, but the manabeings couldn’t say the same.

The large group, composed entirely of fire sprites and spirits, had found the howling wind and snow… uncomfortable and actively detrimental in some aspects. Their guide led them here, and the chief welcomed them.

Wave turned from the window and looked around the stone dwelling. On his return, he’d mentioned the height problem to Blizzard and had been given a larger home with an apology. His new home, carved into the cavern’s wall, was part of what they called the ‘upper district.’ It was a portion of the cavern where the stone floor sat a good few yards above the rest and where the most powerful and important snowbolds resided.

He walked across the room and lay down on the blue tiger fur bedding. The bed itself wasn’t quite long enough, and he let his lower legs hang over the edge with a sigh.

He could mention it to Blizzard, and Wave was sure the snowbold chief would have an earth shaman in here to lengthen the stone slab within an hour. He could. But he had decided not to.

It would remind him that for all that the snowbolds had once been his people… he wasn’t one anymore. He’d been thinking and had made up his mind. He’d join the fire spirits on this migration of theirs.

He didn’t belong on the Eighth anymore. He didn’t… fit. He dreamt of the Eleventh every night since that day and woke with a deep longing inside.

The waves called to him.

Wave rose from the bed and was through the door in seconds. As he strode through the upper district, groups of whispering snowbolds recognized him and moved out of his way with bows. Their behavior only reinforced his decision.

The guard outside Blizzard’s dwelling nodded at him with respect as he approached. “Wave. Business with the chief? It might be best to wait till the Fire Court has moved on. Their leader is in there with the chief right now.” Wave smiled at the guard, remembering their antics when they were training. As much as things changed, some stayed the same. ‘Drift was still looking out for him.

“Thanks, ‘Drift. My business involves the manabeings, actually. Their leader being here is what I hoped for.” Snowdrift blinked and raised a brow. He was obviously curious but refrained from asking the question on his tongue.

“Good luck to you, then.” Wave gave the snowbold a small smile as he pushed the curtain aside and entered the building.

It was larger than his, and he knew it had five rooms. Wave quickly noticed the flickering orange light from the library and knocked on the wall when he reached the doorway. “Blizzard? I have something to ask you. Something important.”

“Wave? Come in, come in.” Wave stepped into the room, his eyes settling on the snowbold behind the desk and the fire spirit floating in the middle of the room. “Ah, Igna, let me introduce you. This is my apprentice, Wave. Wave, this is Igna, the head of the Fire Court we’re currently hosting.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Wave greeted with a slight bow. Igna gave a respectful nod, and he heard the feminine voice in his head as it responded.

“The pleasure is mine. I heard your conversation with the guard outside. What business do you have with the Fire Court?” Well. The spirit certainly got to the heart of the matter quickly. Wave looked at Blizzard and spoke.

“Chieftain, I have decided to leave the Eighth floor,” he declared. The snowbold was obviously shocked at his pronouncement, and Wave continued before he could speak. “I don’t belong here. I’m treated differently and feel excluded. Not in a bad way, but… I was once like the rest of you. My body may be changed, but I am the same person I was before. The respect the villagers now give me feels… undeserved.” He took a deep breath.

“I would ask if I could be permitted to join your migration to the Eleventh, Igna.” He said, turning to the spirit. “The ocean calls to me. Ever since my transformation, I have dreamt of nothing else but returning there. I have little with which to pay you, but I am willing to assist with your final crossing to your Island. The water should be deep enough by now that you will have some trouble getting there without The Creator’s assistance.”

The spirit gave him a considering look as Blizzard recovered from his shock and stood, moving around the desk to stand before him. “My apprentice, you are sure of this? It is not a decision you should make lightly.”

“I am sure. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I must leave.” The snowbold chief studied Wave’s face for a second before relenting and giving him a sad smile.

“Then you have my blessing. Go. Find your place in The Creator’s plan.” Wave knelt and hugged the snowbold, who returned it as hard as he could. When they separated, Igna spoke to them once more.

“In exchange for your assistance reaching Isla Fuego, you may join us. You will have to bring your own food, as we need none. Any possessions you bring, you will carry yourself. We will not be your pack animals.”

Wave nodded. “I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

Wave spent the next day organizing himself. He said farewell to his old friends and packed away enough food to last him a decent length of time. When he ran out, he could purchase more from the Minotaurs. When the day dawned, the sun bright, and the sky clear, Wave left with the procession of spirits.

He knew not what his future would hold, but he wouldn’t regret this decision.

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