Dungeons. So what are they? There are many theories. The first being that they were made by the gods to test the mettle of mortals and to either give them huge rewards if worthy, or death if unworthy. Frankly, i think that's a steaming load of bullshit.
The second theory, is that dungeons are vengeful spirits coming back from the dead to torment the living, but only being able to haunt a certain area where they died, forming a dungeon core to tether themselves to the mortal realm, hell - bent on death and destruction of all and any around them. I also think this is bullshit.
The third, and final theory is that dungeons are sentient or sapient creatures, and that they level up, have traits and skills as well. This I would say is much more believable, simply because it doesn't show any hint of evil. Just like every other creature in the world, a dungeon might just be scared of the people constantly trying to hurt it. I personally prefer this theory myself. Doesn't make me look like some half brained superstitious idiot. And it almost gives off a lonely vibe, as if dungeons are simply children without parents.
Excerpt from: where do dungeons come from and why do they become deathtraps?
Pov: Alpha.
I saw the dungeon was getting closer. I could even see it without my drone. Soon enough, I was at the entrance. I decided to make myself known as I let loose with my mgs, now arguably more powerful than my main gun, as a few dozen tiny sun's incinerated the door, but somehow left the grass right next to it intact. Crazy physics in this world seems to be a mainstay. Can't complain too much though. Blowing myself into atoms is not a reccomended activity believe it or not. And not OSHA compliant either. (Getting turned into radioactive gloop is not reccomended by 9/10 Americans!) Then I went into the dungeon. Suddenly, the light darkened around me, amplified by a flickering light source and void- dark walls.
I would be scared. If I were not a tank with mini nuke machine guns. I picked up 30 signatures surrounding me. They had me outnumbered and surrounded. Those poor bastards. I opened fire with my mini sun creator, as the signatures turned into irradiated dust. I got a few kill notifications. It seemed that they were dead. No fucking shit Sherlock. Oh? The newly atomized victims (skeletons apperently) are dead? Oh that never occurred to me. I thought as I looked at the dead skeletons with disapproval. They didn't drink enough milk. And they gave the same amount of exp as you would expect for stepping on roadkill. Next to none.
As I moved onto the next room, the lights turned a flashing white, and the walls did the same. But my tactic didn't include line of sight.
As I looked around at the new piles of dust on the ground, I couldn't help but think what a triple s could do. I continued rampaging through the dungeon, thinking philosophical things. Like how much rain a reindeer could rain if a reindeer could rain deer?
Pov: Charmand.
Apart from the not do subtle explosions coming in the general direction in which the champion went. I really dodged a bullet there. (No, you fired it) As we neared the elven outpost, I got out of the cart. Sure, it was blazing hot in the middle of the day and my class was focused on darkness, but I had to report what happened. I walked to the commanders office. "You again. What do you want?" The man said with a sigh. He was obviously not happy.
I recounted everything that I had seen.
"Then why the fuck did you give it an ss token? At least it doesn't kill without being provoked... what have you gotten us into?" The elven outpost commander sighed. "I'll file this to leadership. Now please get out of my office, and reprimand anyone that thought attacking a champion was a good idea."
I quickly left the office and called my bodyguards detail. "Everyone that tried to attack the champion is getting 40 less silvers for their pay. Do not protest. You all would've gotten killed if you tried to resist further. That was extreme recklessness on your part. Did yall even see what it did to the orcs? Or was everyone here too busy having their head stuck up their ass?" I shouted, no doubt the groans coming from the bodyguards' general direction being protests. Sometimes I do wonder how my people managed to survive so long with the amount of arrogance we have. This is going to be a long fucking day isn't it?
Pov: Alpha.
The boss, or at least that's what the system insisted on calling it, was something not unlike a lion that had been horribly mutated by radiation. Ugly. Doesn't matter. It'll look like its' minions soon. Atoms. I willed my nuclear minigun to open fire. It clicked. Fuck. I was out of ammo! I had to use my cannon or the napalm grenades? It stalked closer to me, then I shot it with an incendiary high explosive round, and its' body burst into flames.
I would probably have made a comment on the stench of burnt flesh, but I didn't have a sense of smell. It pounced, trying to attack me, and leapt onto my body. Wait a sec, I can't shoot it while it's on me, and napalm might damage me. Oh well. My code writers didn't write no bitch code in me. I shot all the napalm grenades. All of them. They exploded on contact with the boss, it screeching as its very flesh melted from its body, dripping off from the body, flesh, bone, everything, making it more look like plastic when introduced to a fire then an organic creature. My armour wasn't doing too much better, but better it was doing.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
My armour creaked and groaned as the force of 6 napalm grenades hit me, armour slightly melting and dripping to the ground. If I could feel pain I probably would've screamed, but I couldn't. A chime sounded as words crammed themselves into my circuits. I didn't care.
I quickly teleported the fuck away and into logustus' lair, hoping the little gremlins he has as workers would fix me. The top of my armour caved in and dripped onto the engine block as my core went into emergency mode, and ejected itself. I then felt calm. But I couldn't see anything but my chasis burning, before a final explosion ended it once and for all. I felt relived I got out in time. Though 6 grenades was a bit overkill... I then decided to read my alerts.
Achievement unlocked: Commit Genocide, stage one. Kill 500 or more of one species. Reward: common poison token. I have to give it to you. Running out of nukes in a dungeon then shooting yourself with grenades is probably one of the stupidest, albeit funniest things I have ever seen in centuries.
Achievment unlocked: God damned show off, beat a dungeon.on.your own with one try. Rewards: rare customization token. Bravo. That's what I would say if it shocked me. It didn't. Does it surprise you when I say I've gotten used to your bullshitery?
Achievement unlocked. Knife eared tomfoolery. Get reported to elven high command. Surviving is a seperate achievement. Reward: rare tracker token. That shit with the elves really goes on display to show how stupid they are. So high on their horses it may as well be a drug. I hope you survive. You're a good source of entertainment for a bored god. I hope you get the next Genocide achievement, but the elf specific one. That's how much I hate the fuckers.
Acheivment unlocked. The bane of elves. Kill 10 or more elves and have the rest of the party either stop attacking or run away without subduing you. Reward: Uncommon divine blessing token (God of achievments) You're fucking welcome for that. If you consume it you become immortal for a minute, doubling with each jump in rarity for a maximum of 32 minutes, or mythic rarity. Sorry for the delay, but i was waiting till you got the names for the elf ones. Thought you might like the names.
Damn. I might actually be starting to warm up to this guy. We might have gotten off to a little... ahhh... rough start.
Achievment unlocked: Now you see me, now you don't. Solo a dungeon boss higher level than you and kill it. Award: Mythic armour piercing token. Nice to see you finally warming up. Anyway, if there's a wall you don't like, or a monster in your way that you don't want to turn to dust, activate the token, shoot their head, and boom. I hope you do many more interesting things with my tokens, they're for my benefit just as much they are for you. Now get out there and kill some monsters! Or elves.
Quest complete: explore Ravensbourne dungeon. Rewards:
Yeah I know I know.
Enemies killed: 86 skeletons
Yup. Skip to level up, hopefully I can get an evolution?
Levels gained: Level 50. Cannot level further. Please evolve to progress. Current evolution stage. (World war one.) Next evolutionary stage: (post ww1 period.)
Fuck yeah, it's not like I'm going to be using my previous body anyway. I glanced back at the slightly exploded remains of the mark 5 tank. Yup, I need a new one alright.
Okay how do I do this? Maybe...
Evolution...
Evolution stage post world war one. Please select a nation.
Great Britain.
France.
Germany.
Soviet Union.
United States.
I select... United States. It would be fun riding around in a Stewart. Sure I'm a brit at heart, but we lacked quite a lot in developing tanks, that much I know. And I'm not selling my soul to get a French tank, only tank with 1 gear forward, 4 gears back. (Even the ai did not escape the fued between the two countries) Soviet union tanks, guaranteed to explode under small arms fire. And like fuck am I getting a panzer 2. Though I might check for a panzer 3. Decisions decisions.
What... what happened to you? Did a drake drag you up a hill 8 directions at once? And what is that black sphere thing on the ground?
It seems the speaking was telepathic. So I willed my words to go to the (slightly) confused god. "I may or may not have blown my shell to smithereens. Don't worry though! I have an evolution available! I hope that means my body comes back." I sheepishly told the discombobulated soul.
What... how the fuck? OK. You can stay here while you evolve, it's a very dangerous thing to do unguarded.
The god replied, oblivious to the fact my core couldn't grow legs and skedadle without a chasis. "Thank you for your offer of sanctuary. I accept." I sighed mentally. What to pick what to pick?
Pov: George Whistler.
After getting picked as a soldier for one of the lieutenants, Matthew sharp, I initialized step two of my plan: bootlick until I rise the ranks further, all the while suggesting some less bloodthirsty plans to the brass.
"Hey, listen up everyone! We're raiding this location here. Apparently it will have clues to what happened to our previous expedition to the village with 5 other battle groups, as well an an a ranker. We move out in one day. Gear up, train. Remember, we do this not only for the boss, but the friends, and perhaps family we have lost." Matthew shouted, trying at the most lackluster attempt for an inspirational speech I had ever heard. I shook my head. This would end three ways. We find nothing. We commit Genocide. We all die.
Such is the life and subsequent death of a bandit mook. Lucky I'm not a mook then huh?