After leading the traumatized elf back to the inn she and her party were staying at, Dutch stuck around to have a few mugs of ale and to allow the Dungeon to do whatever it needed to do. Based on the evidence he’d seen so far, it was pretty obvious that there was a very strong Death-Alignment at use, but the presence of the clearly Life-Aligned creatures near the front was confusing.
While Dungeons, in his experience, could use nearly all of the basic monsters that appeared on the first levels of most, that rule only applied to the ones with common Alignments. Fire, Earth, Water, Air, those alignments all tended to feature a rather basic cadre of enemies: goblins, kobolds, enlarged insects, slimes, worms, and other basic creature types.
Even the more unique Dungeons more often than not started with that type and moved into a more specific Alignment due to their actions or events that happened. Well, he supposed, it wasn’t exactly a normal Dungeon in the first place.
Intelligent enough to write readable words in the first week of its birth, roughly, and capable of rational, intelligent decision-making for just as long. He had no doubt the first room, the ‘Orchard’, was as simple and easy as it was for a reason. Its halls of the undead were, on the surface, simple, but from the old warrior's perspective it spoke of canny and well-thought placements.
Ghosts, while easy enough to kill, always were in a position to strike from a blind spot, or at a time when it was least expected. That too, spoke of a higher, guiding intelligence, telling the monsters the best times to strike. It was truly a test of Dutch’s reaction time and instincts the first time he’d cleared those particular ambushes. Once he knew to expect them, it was far easier, but once again the Dungeon showed its smarts in the large room that was reminiscent of a battlefield.
Drive adventurers to distraction, press them hard, and strike when they are most invested on the frontlines of their current battle.
On the surface, it was a simple strategy, but for a young Dungeon? He was once again blown away. Elysium was an entirely other matter as well. Growing crops and trees inside of a Dungeon? By the Dungeon’s choice?
Simply absurd.
The oldest Dungeons might do such a thing out of sheer boredom - they were often hundreds if not thousands of years old, and had nothing but time on their hands. What purpose the crops were for, Dutch had yet to determine, but he had a solid mix of excitement and wariness bubbling within him. He had, in a moment of weakness and exhaustion, told the Dungeon it was their village’s only hope. Despite the movement of Iruvel, that fact remained unchanged. They had all left the confines of the Kingdom for a reason, after all. If the kingdom elected to use their village as its starting point for expansion, the village’s wants would be considered secondary, at best.
Trusting a Dungeon was folly, but they would also need it to maintain a semblance of independence. Of course, there were also the adventurer teams that would undoubtedly be showing up in greater and greater numbers as time went on, attempting to curtail or restrain the Dungeon for the bounty he had no doubt was going to be placed on it soon.
So many problems with no obvious solution. Any chance the village would have been ignored and allowed to remain semi-independent was removed by the Dungeon’s existence. Not that he blamed it, since he doubted it even knew how it came to be, but it threw a solid sword straight into their wagon spokes.
With a start, Dutch realized he really should be reporting the loss of three quarters of the adventurer team to Kurell, and grumpily threw down the coppers to pay for his ale.
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“So what you mean to tell me, is that our new little friend in the graveyard only killed the three folks who were absolutely set on controlling it, and returned the last member, unharmed, because they were against that idea?” Kurell’s disbelief was evident on both his face and in his tone.
“I’ve told you before, Kurell, this Dungeon is something different. The damned thing has a kitchen, by the gods. I’ve seen them butchering deer before, which also implies that it has hunters that leave the Dungeon to get the deer.” Dutch’s arms were crossed, his face set into a stubborn grimace.
The elder could only pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh.
“Well, I don’t think I can withhold the fact a Dungeon has sprouted up in our lovely village any longer. When the next courier arrives, I’ll tell them that it appeared shortly before the last time we returned a message, and it simply hadn’t been discovered. The Silver team only discovered it by chance, and so we can honestly say they discovered it on their own, and attempted to plant the restraining mana-shackles on the core, but when they attempted to make the final delve, they perished.”
Dutch nodded, his face softening ever so slightly. “The only survivor is likely to be a wreck for a while, but she should pull through. I’ll visit her after I’m done inspecting the Dungeon again tomorrow to see what changes there might be.”
Kurell could only shake his head in amazement. “And you really aren’t scared going in there every single day? From what you’ve described the place seems like an absolute deathtrap just waiting to slam its jaws shut over you when you least suspect it…”
The Iron Knight simply snorted. “Normally I would agree, but those Rules it has are a literal lifesaver. I double check they’re the same every time I go in, but so far the only addition it's ever made to them was when it added a second door as a practice room, and it was just to include it in the last Rule. While I’m curious as to what I’ll find tomorrow, and my guard will always be up, the Dungeon has set up a nigh-perfect way for adventurers to safely gain experience.”
“Do you think that was on purpose?” Kurell couldn’t help but ask.
He waved his hand in a so-so gesture. “I would’ve said it was purely a defensive measure on its part until that third practice room was added. That room has a rule that allows its difficulty to be increased, and is really only fit for complete novices to train against weak foes. There is no purpose to the room other than teaching youngsters how to fight against basic Dungeon enemies. The next room, the Orchard, has a chest and some additional difficulties, but it too seems to be just a mere trial before someone moves onto the main entrance.”
Dutch leaned forward in his seat, his arms placed on his knees, a fervent gleam in his eye. “Despite the fact that the mainline defense and floors it has make me think its someday going to be the single scariest Dungeon I’ll ever have the displeasure of facing, it always tries its best to challenge whoever it's fighting, and push them to their limits without endangering them. The very first time I fought in the room, only a couple skeletons actually came to face me, while the others remained wandering around the room. After it saw me dispatch them with ease, every room after that triggered every single monster each time.”
He eased back slightly. “I didn’t think anything of it until John went into the actual main room for the first time. I was nervous for him, despite the Rule in place, but… He only faced the amount of foes he could safely defeat, and occasionally an extra one to challenge him. Even when I was there, it knew I wasn’t participating, and judged John’s capabilities only.”
The village elder let out a long breath, slowly breathing back in to try and understand exactly what Dutch was saying. Despite his more managerial role in the village, his levels in Oracle hadn’t been simply given to him - he’d had to venture in Dungeons and fight for them just like everyone else.
“So other Dungeons don’t adopt this rule because they just want to kill adventurers and get whatever resources they gain from it?”
Dutch shrugged. “I don’t think so. I can’t verify this, but if another Dungeon was to take that exact same Rule and apply it, I would honestly expect every single monster in the room to rush us every time - because the goal would be to ‘win’ as fast as possible. This sort of… measured level of force isn’t something a young Dungeon should be capable of. I believe the particular anomaly it has is its near-human level of intelligence - it's shown on multiple occasions that it is capable of thought far beyond every other I’ve been in.”
Scratching his chin in thought, he continued. “I’ve never been into the truly oldest Dungeons, but from the few aged ones I have seen it surpasses even them. Or, perhaps, its thinking is just understandable and more clear to me than the others were. Dungeons sometimes make truly odd decisions and floors, but nothing about this one has seemed… illogical to me. Or, perhaps, the only thing that doesn’t make sense about the Dungeon is how much sense it makes.”
“And how exactly does it make sense to you?” Kurell asked.
Dutch thought for a minute before finally answering. “For starters, yes, it's technically helping us by training our younger folk and giving them experience. If I thought this Dungeon was normal - if it hadn’t proved it could write and ‘speak’ as it were, from the beginning? I would assume it was a trap, a bait to make sure we left it to live long enough to grow and become more of a threat. But its decisions to date, its ability to write, and its recent actions against the Silver-Tier team all lean towards the fact its goal seems to be coexistence. I told you about the farm it planted, right? It's growing trees and crops that are capable of growing during any season.”
They sat together in silence for a few minutes, thinking on the oddity that had popped up into their graveyard. That is, until Dutch decided to drop another bomb on Kurell’s lap.
“Oh, and you know that Katrina girl? The one I found in the Dungeon?”
Kurell nodded.
“I’m fairly confident the person Anya saw and received the warning from is Ms. Desdemona.”
Dutch narrowed his eyes, leaning forward. “You know, I’d always thought the Gargarens were a little fishy, but after I delivered her to them I got this rather terrible feeling and went back later to check on her. They claimed she was asleep and couldn’t answer right away, but I have the faint suspicion she got away somehow and returned to the graveyard. While I can’t confirm it, it would easily explain the need for the kitchen, the hunters, the meat, and the crops. What it doesn’t explain, however, is why the Dungeon is doing all that for, near as I can tell, one person.”
The nascent headache that had begun forming earlier in the day, when Kurell was attempting to plot out the village’s future and the best course of action for them to take in light of recent events, bloomed and let its presence be known.
“So besides the Dungeon’s smarts, its planning, and its oddities, it’s also adopted a teenage girl? And is now caring for and providing for her?”
Dutch shrugged. “That's my best guess. Nobody else is missing from the village that matches the description Anya was able to provide. I want to verify that if only because it is an incredible piece of evidence proving some of my theories about the Dungeon. In fact, it actually indicates that it is even more benign, in a sense, than I originally thought. Despite its fierce defense, it has proven time and time again it doesn’t want to kill us. Caring and providing for a random human would be… above and beyond even my lofty expectations.”
Kurell could only nod his head while trying to figure out what this meant for the future of Home. Even with his clairvoyant abilities, it was no easy task. Iruvel would be sending more adventurers soon, and despite the Silver-Tier’s death he doubted they would think much of it. People died in Dungeons all the time, and this particular team was really only meant to be a scouting party.
Home wasn’t technically in danger - not yet, anyway. Iruvel moving forward wouldn’t truly impact them for another year or two yet, as they needed to get the lay of the land and determine where they could establish farms or a better supply route through the mountains.
The villagers’ lives weren’t even really at risk. But despite that, he knew how his people would react to the strong presence of Iruvel once again - and it wasn’t positive. Darran’s wife, who helped him around the smithy and with his complex leatherworking jobs, had most of her family hung for reasons the pair never disclosed. They were good people, however, and Kurell suspected Iruvel’s heavy-handed style had been the culprit yet again.
The Gargarens were a bit of a sore point, but they too had moved to escape from the heavy taxation the kingdom levied against them. Or so they claimed, Kurell thought it odd that making money and paying taxes would be considered worse than making no money and not paying taxes, but what did he know.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
The stories would go on and on - the adventurers' guild failing to protect a prospective adventurer well enough, leading to their easily preventable death. That same heavy-handedness Darran’s family experienced easily incited outrage and unrest among the common folk. Though it hadn’t affected him, Kurell had heard other’s tales of the oppressive taxes the wealthy had to deal with.
It wasn’t all bad, but there was enough wrong that Kurell and the other villagers felt compelled to get as far away as possible and live a simpler existence.
“Then I want you to go in there tomorrow, as you undoubtedly already planned on, and ask to see the girl. If you get proof, and can learn more, that will remove any doubts I have in my mind that this Dungeon is something worth fighting for. If it can provide assistance beyond simply training up our youngsters to help increase our independence, then even better. I’m worried though… If the Iruvelian investigators or adventurers learn that we were ‘cooperating’ with the Dungeon, we’ll have hell to pay once we’re fully annexed back into the kingdom. The future has many paths, but none are clear as to what holds the best choice, so we’ll simply roll the dice and see what unfolds.”
Dutch nodded in acquiescence. “Of course.”
With that, they had nothing left to talk about, so Dutch departed his office, and Kurell was left to contemplate just how things had gotten so complicated.
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The next morning came all too soon, and Dutch found himself outside the rather inauspicious entrance to the Dungeon. They really should name the damn thing, continuously calling it ‘The Dungeon’ was… not weird, but most of the Dungeons he knew of all had names. That was a problem for another day, however.
He descended the steps that had recently become quite familiar, and entered the well-lit first room. The first thing that stood out as immediately obvious was the three raised stone coffins, resting to the right hand side of the room and out of the immediate way, but still noticeable.
Engraved atop each lid was a depiction that Dutch was able to easily recognize - each one displayed one of the three deceased adventurers that had tried their luck against the undead hordes. He examined them for a few moments before attempting to lift one of the lids, and found it to be quite light, easily parting from the lower section that contained the corpse he found within.
Despite knowing the odd nature of the Dungeon, he half expected the adventurer’s bodies to be ravaged by the undead forces they had fought against. Instead it seemed they hadn’t managed to make it past Biyaban, the crazy ghoul that defended the entrance to the second floor.
The precise wounds had been made by something razor sharp, and formed slashes and stabs he could tell were made by claws, rather than the iron and steel weaponry the skeletons wielded.
This indicated that on Rule 1, the Silver-Tier team failed to pass even the first floor boss, when they had reported winning with some effort against the second boss in past attempts. They had believed they could make it to the core, but failed to realize just how much the Dungeon had prepared for them - further proof that it was holding back both its tactics and numbers to ensure those who entered with the safe Rules were challenged, yet still able to succeed.
After all, the monsters of the second floor were much more numerous and tough than those of the first, so managing to complete the second floor originally, and not passing Biyaban was a drastic difference.
A couple of hours later, he’d left the adventurer’s bodies in Kurell’s care so they could be safely stowed until a decision was made on what to do with them, and returned to find John waiting outside the entrance, an excited gleam in his eye that quickly vanished as he noticed Dutch’s somber mood.
“You know this place just killed those three adventurers that were arguably stronger than you are, John?” Despite his growing confidence and understanding of the Dungeon, the number one rule of delving into Dungeons was to expect death around every bend, no matter how safe you felt. It was difficult to hammer that home in someone who’d never returned from a Dungeon delve with a gruesome scene etched into their eyes and an empty space where their friend once stood.
“I check the Rules every day, just like you said too, and I’ll be safe as long as I follow them as they’re stated right now! I’m very careful Dutch, but c’mon. You know this place isn’t like any of the others you’ve seen. I’ve listened to all your stories growing up, and none of them sound like this place at all!”
Dutch practically growled. “Just because it's different now doesn’t mean it won’t turn on you the second it feels that is more beneficial for it! Being excited is one thing, but remember why you’re doing this.” His grimace softened slightly. “Yes, this place is different, but Dungeons are dangerous for more than the monsters inside of them. If you fall and crack your head open, what’s the Dungeon going to do to help you? Sure, it could drag you back to the village, but what if it's too late? Just like any environment that has potential hazards, just merely standing in it presents a danger.”
John hung his head, but firmed himself a few moments later and nodded. “I won’t let you down Dutch! With the help of this Dungeon, and me being extra careful, I’ll catch up to you as fast as possible so I can help protect the village!”
The Iron Knight held in a snort at his look of determination. Was this what he was like when he was younger? He surely hoped not. “Sure, sure kid. Let’s get to work before too much time passes. Don’t want to stay here after dark.”
If Dutch was more touchy-feely he would have ruffled the kids' hair for good measure, but that just wasn’t him.
They descended together into the rather ominous hole in the graveyard floor, and began to do their standard check for any changes to the Dungeon, its Rules, or anything else of interest.
They collectively noticed the new fourth Rule immediately, and though they didn’t choose it they did opt to check out Elysium to see what had changed there. After slipping through the narrow tunnel entrance they were greeted by the beautiful view of cropland stretching out under an idyllic, false sky.
“It always astounds me knowing that we’re inside a Dungeon and yet seeing a view like this.” John commented, a wistful look on his face.
Dutch let him appreciate it for a second or two, but they had things to do and there would be time enough later to admire the Dungeon and its eccentricities. The first and most obvious change was the appearance of a staircase leading down into the farmland, though thanks to the height it had to descend it was rather steep.
Opposite the first step was what looked like a platform attached to a length of rope that was lifted and lowered by a pair of skeletons. They were visible behind a waist-high wall of rock, to keep them separated or possibly to section them off from overzealous adventurers. It wasn’t designed to actually stop them from being interfered with, but simply stated they weren’t there to be fought.
Most adventurers would be smart enough to understand that, but Dutch was all too aware of several people who could, at best, be politely described as complete idiots. How they survived past a Copper ranking was beyond him, but they continued to exist despite his doubts.
“We’ll take the stairs down. I doubt this lift system is in place for folk like us.”
John merely nodded in agreement and followed him down the steps.
Although it would have been feasible for Dutch to jump down and investigate the crops before a way down was added, it simply wasn’t worth it. He would have had to bring rock climbing equipment with him to scale the cliff to get back up, and that was simply too much effort for a room that was otherwise completely inaccessible.
But now they stood amidst a field of wheat and other various crops that gently waved back and forth in an impossible breeze, in an underground chamber that was merely a small part of an entire living organism, effectively. What a world they lived in.
“Don’t touch the crops, despite our access we can’t be sure that they’re all the same things we’re used to dealing with. Mana, especially Aligned mana, can cause severe alterations to the nature of plant life.”
John nodded. “Got it. Before we get started though, what’s that?” He pointed a little farther down the field to where Dutch was absolutely positive nothing had been before. Now, a massive white fox sat, licking one of its paws while idly watching them.
“I’d have to assume it's the guardian of the fields, John. Dungeons that have ‘non-combat’ areas like this often have protectors to ensure that the peace isn’t disrupted. Though these areas aren’t common until you reach lower floors, they do appear sometimes at random, though I doubt this particular one is random at all.”
His young charge nodded in understanding. “I bet you're right, this Dungeon is really cool! It totally wants to give its chefs more things to work with. Hey, if these things grow all year round, does that mean it could help us out during our winter shortages? Maybe we wouldn’t have to go on a ration system this year!”
Dutch laughed at his apprentice. “My boy, if you let the Dungeon control you through your stomach then we’re all doomed. We’ll have to see. Before we do anything else we need to check out these crops for any potential mana alterations that might be dangerous. If there is a consistent way to get the safe crops out, and the Dungeon permits it, then there’s a chance we can supplement our stores from here. You have to be careful though, I’ve seen a man burn from the inside out because he accidentally ate a Fire-Aligned fruit before. I’d hate to see what an undead Dungeon does to you.”
John shivered, and seemed to thoroughly heed his warning. “As long as you’ve got your gloves on, they should be okay to touch. I know your Observe skill only really gives you impressions right now, but it should tell you whether something is contaminated or not.”
They began walking down the rows of crops, separated by one row, while Dutch kept an eye on the large fox who continued to observe them. Though the Iron Knight liked to pretend he wasn’t impressed by much, the amount of life on display here was truly astounding. The crops were growing so fast he could literally tell a slight difference between when they first entered the room to now.
His own [Observe] skill was high enough level to return actual information to him, and he was able to glean the title of most crops, and was thoroughly impressed when they turned out to be High-Quality variants. [Farmer] was a class, and actually a fairly common one in Home, but growing a High-Quality crop was more a matter of luck than anything else - they weren’t incredibly rare, but they were hardly common.
From what he’d seen so far, every single crop in the room was High-Quality.
His musings were interrupted when he reached his next plant, and he suddenly found the massive white fox next to him. His heart began pumping furiously from the sudden start, and his hand went to his sword, though the creature was still just watching him with an almost bored air about it. A quick [Observe] returned its name as Inari, and its race as a kami, specifically the kami of agriculture and prosperity. He had no idea what a kami was, and it gave him no time to contemplate it when it waved its paw through the air, and the crop he was about to look at carefully extricated itself from the soil and began floating away.
He managed to tag it with an [Observe] as well, and got the news he was fearing from the start - a crop corrupted by the inherent mana flowing through the air and earth surrounding them. But, of course, he couldn’t disregard that the very first one he’d found was being taken away by the guardian monster.
It displayed a rather high level of intelligence for such a young Dungeon, much like Biyaban, the first floor boss. Even the second floor boss, while incapable of speech, showed a frightening level of adaptation and trickery.
So he decided to take a different approach. “Excuse me, Inari, can I speak with you?” Dutch observed the beast carefully, and at his words it turned its head towards him in curiosity, and made a ‘go on’ sort of gesture. It was hard to tell with the fox paws and all the fluttering tails, but that was the impression he got none the less.
“If we were to request a selection of uncorrupted crops, would you be able to provide them to us? If you have any requests in exchange, I will happily barter for a deal.” John was watching them curiously from the side, pausing in his gathering and inspection, something Dutch was glad for. Wouldn’t do for him to lose a hand by accidentally touching a rotting crop, now would it? Especially since they looked identical to the High-Quality ones…
The fox's only response was to use one of its many tails to point back towards the entrance once before promptly floating towards the sky, its many limbs dancing and weaving on the breeze. It let out a piercing screech, and a small selection of each individual crop began to disgorge itself from the earth, floating towards the entrance and forming a neat pile on the top of the cliffside.
Dutch sketched a polite bow towards the still floating figure of Inari. “Thank you very much. Though it is undecided, would it be possible for our local farmers to occasionally come by and pick some of the crops that you don’t need, if there are any? I will instruct them to listen to your guidance.”
The massive white fox descended to the ground, and after landing gave him a nod. “Will you also keep them from touching the corrupted plants?” He got another nod. “Thank you very much.”
He looked over to John. “That’s enough for right now, John. Lets head back up. Inari, the fox, pointed towards the entrance and if I’m understanding it correctly, there’s probably a sign up there with some sort of request. Let’s go check it out.”
John agreed and marched back up the stairs with him to the primary entrance that led to the scary parts of the Dungeon.
Right by the offering bowl, they found the request sign. “It wants to investigate a single enchanted item, huh? I’ll see what I can do.” Noticing the specific verbiage of the request he realized it was explicitly stating it only wanted to borrow it, not keep it.
That both concerned and interested Dutch greatly, because the only reason the Dungeon would need to ‘borrow’ an enchanted item and not keep it for one of its monsters was to learn how it worked, or to see if it could replicate the effect somehow. Either way, the intelligence lurking behind the cavernous walls and halls of the undead was quite keen.
Speaking of which, he couldn’t forget Kurell’s instruction to him in regards to the human resident of the Dungeon. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “John, why don’t you go get started. Clear out the Orchard and then start on the main path, but don’t go past the second room if you can clear that.”
His charge took on a serious demeanor, gave him a quick salute that made Dutch snort at his poor attempt, and then took off to do as instructed. Once he was sure the boy was gone, he turned to the offering bowl, though he knew the Dungeon would hear him from wherever he was.
“Dungeon… I would like to speak to the human who you’re protecting, that I believe is Katrina. I do not wish her harm or to take her from this place… Just to talk.”
Then, he waited patiently. John finished clearing the Orchard and made his way into the main entrance to start working on clearing that out as best he could.
The minutes ticked by, and Dutch only worried slightly that his request hadn’t been heard or ignored. Right as he was beginning to feel foolish for standing there for so much time for nothing, the same door John had disappeared through opened up again, except it wasn’t John that stepped through the entrance.