Chapter Three Hundred and Eighty-Eight - Moth-er of All Adventures

The Beaver circled around Candlelight Glade a few times before we found a place to bring the airship down.

The village was hard to spot from above. There wasn’t a wide clearing for a bunch of little homes. Instead, the village was almost entirely entwined in the trees. Homes hung off and above thick branches, sometimes with multiple homes stuck to a singular tree.

Balconies ran all over, and there were several rope bridges linking the trees together as well as ladders and narrow steps that circled around the trees they were built into leading all the way to the ground.

It wasn’t as if nothing was built on ground level, of course. There were a few open patches where gardens were growing, and a few small fields nearby ringed by fences that kept rows of corn and wheat safe.

The dungeon itself was easy to spot from above. It was a big rocky outcropping rising above the flat land of the forest, with a vast glade before it and a gnarled tree clinging to it.

It looked as if the dungeon had just popped out of the ground one day, pushing that big tree up and almost unrooting it. But the tree had clung on, and eventually its trunk had bent up to better catch the sun, creating a green canopy above the dungeon’s entranceway.

The glade was where we decided to moor the Beaver Cleaver. We dropped anchor (slowly, in case someone was below) and when enough chain was down to keep us nice and steady, we lowered the ship down so that the deck was level with the treetops.

Then we tossed a rope ladder off the side. I poked my head out and looked out below to discover that we’d gained a few curious onlookers. They were all mothfolk, like Lepido and Wendy, with pitchforks and hoes and big straw hats protecting their heads from the warm sunlight.

“I’ll go down first,” Lepido said. “To make sure none of those pitchforks ends up somewhere inappropriate.”

“That seems like a good idea,” I agreed. “Besides, we need to gear up for adventuring. Will we need anything in the dungeon? Lights, ropes, ten-foot-poles?”

“Some light wouldn’t hurt, at least on some of the floors,” he said. “It can get dark down there, especially with those vines blocking out the light.” With that, he hopped off the sides, wings snapping as they caught the wind and then he gently glided down.

I watched him starting to talk to some of the farmers below, then I ran back below deck. It was time to get properly geared up for an adventure! That meant, of course, tossing off all of my more comfortable clothes and replacing it with my thick, padded dress, then slipping into my armour. I adjusted my breastplate, hooked my little pauldrons on, then slid on a belt around my hips.

I had greaves and this bit that covered my knees... I was pretty sure it wasn’t called a kneepad though. I frowned at it and fired off my Insight skill.

A Poleyn, Nearly New

That was a strange name, but I supposed it had to be right. With a shrug, I slipped mine on and fixed them in place so that they were snug but not too tight. Then the last part of my armour was a single fauld, which was this metal piece that hung off my right hip and that kind of made my whole armoured set asymmetrical.

I adjusted things here and there, tugging them into place, then I gave myself a good bounce or two to make sure everything was settled. “Perfect!” I said before grabbing my favourite turtle shell helmet. I slid my bigger ears through the holes in the helm and then settled it atop my head. I set Weedbane up against the doorway so I wouldn’t forget it.

The last thing I did was grab a small backpack that I emptied out on my bed and quickly repacked. I had some cloth to use as bandages--just in case--some potions that I had laying around, and whatever I thought might come in handy in a dungeon, which mostly meant rope and a camp knife and after a quick jaunt to the kitchen, a number of snacks.

I checked up on my friends once I was ready myself, and discovered that I was one of the slower ones. Caprica was on the deck, sitting on a rail with her wings spread wide to catch the sunlight and decked out in functional but elegant armour that we’d picked up in the Snowlands. Her biggest piece of gear was a shield almost as tall as she was, and heavier than her to boot. She could still move it around with ease, and I suspected that had more to do with skills from her Bastion class than anything.

Awen was in her long coat, hammer by her hip and crossbow slung over her back. She was picking her nails clean with a tiny glass knife she’d probably conjured up for the task. Calamity, meanwhile, was checking his new Snowlander bow’s little gears and wheels. He had a small heap of arrows stuffed into a quiver that hung by his hip and a long hunting knife tucked at the small of his back. No armour for him except for a nice leather coat.

And then Amaryllis stepped out from the lower decks behind me in her own fur-trimmed leather jacket. She looked properly spiffy and ready for adventure. “Well?” she asked. “Are we all going to sit around here and do nothing? Let’s see about this dungeon. We’re on a schedule, people!”

I grinned. “Yup, we’re ready, I think. I wish I still had Teamaking, I could make us something to help.”

“You still can,” Amaryllis said. “Buffs are buffs; they are derived from mana. Essentially, they are a spell. If you learn that spell, you'll be able to brew buffing tea without relying on the World to do all the work for you. You even have a head start because you used the Teamaking skill before and you should have some subconscious familiarity with the process.”

“Oh,” I said. I hadn’t considered that. That was a good point! But it was also a concern for later. “Anyway, should we head down?”

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

There was a general consensus that yes, we should head down, and so we did! I did pause to tell the Scallywags that they could visit the town if they wanted to, and that their turn at the dungeon would come after we’d cleared it of any roots. They didn’t seem to mind the wait.

Lepido was waiting by the ladder with a single mothfolk farmer next to him. Or at least, I assumed it was a farmer. He was a bit younger than Lepido--though guessing ages was hard when the person had fluffy all-white fur and looked a bit bug-like--and one of those straw hats on. He had a pitchfork too, though the tines were now poking into the grass underfoot.

“Ah, Captain,” Lepido said. “I wanted to introduce you to this fine young man. He’s the one who’s been taking care of beating back the vines for the last couple of weeks.”

“Just because harvest is done and I’ve nothing better to do,” the mothperson said. He extended a hand to me and I shook. “Pleased to meet ya. Lepido here says that you’re mighty good at dungeoneering?”

“Ah, we’re alright at it. And we’ve managed to fight off some Evil Roots in the past. But I can’t make promises.”

“That’s fair,” he said after a moment. “Is this the group that’ll be going down?”

“It is,” I said. I turned then made introductions to everyone. “This is Amaryllis, our mage, Calamity, our ranger, Awen, our mechanic and fixer-upper, and Caprica, our tank. And I’m Broccoli Bunch! I... uh, also definitely have a role in the team. I hope we can be friends, sir!”

Puffles G. Ward

Desired Quality: Someone forthright and kind

Dream: To see the light

“I’m Puffles,” he said with a serious look in his eyes that almost--almost--set me to giggling. “I’ll be guiding you down there, best I can, in any case.”

“I look forward to it,” I said. “Do we need to do anything special before going down? Or can we just... head on in right away?”

Puffles worked his shoulders, all four of them, and then shrugged before tugging his pitchfork out of the ground. “No harm in heading in now. Didn’t have any real plans for the evening except to sit back and smoke my pipe.”

“Perfect,” I said with a happy little clap. “So, what can you tell us about the dungeon’s first floor?”

“Floor, huh? Not much of a floor at all, really. More like a long passageway. You’ll see what I mean once we get there. You need a few buckets of sugar water to get past it. Or we did, before the dungeon went weird.”

“What’s the sugar water for?” I asked. “And where are you getting sugar from?”

“The ants. Leave it out and they used to leave you alone. Four or so buckets a trip, but you’d get some good quilts for it. The sugar’s from tree sap. It ain’t good for eating here, unfortunately, but it is sweet and the ants like it.” He tugged at his shirt, which I noticed was made of a thickly woven material. His overalls too, for that matter. It looked a bit too thick to be normal cotton.

“So we need sugar water,” I repeated. “And buckets.”

“Needed. Barely a point to it now. The dungeon used to let you by for free, but now with the vines in there, there’s no peace to be found. You lot ready for a fight?”

I glanced at my friends and got a bunch of nods. “I think we are, yeah.”

Puffles nodded. “Right, follow me, then.” He walked over to the dungeon’s entrance, a big round door fit right into the side of the stone jutting out of one end of the clearing. He tugged aside a latch, then gestured for us to back off. “Dangerous, this bit. Get ready.”

I didn’t have time to ask him what we should get ready for then he tugged a final latch aside, then flung the door open.

A huge ant flopped down, as if it had been clinging to the wall. It was as big as a dog and wrapped in black vines from the tip of its clawed feet to the end of its abdomen.

The ant shook itself, then looked up towards me and opened its mandibles wide. It only came up to about my knees (so more like a smaller dog, really) but it still looked incredibly creepy, especially when it started to scurry towards the nearest of us.

Unfortunately for the ant, that was Caprica.

She grunted and the sharp bottom end of her shield came crunching down atop the ant’s head, pinning it to the ground with a thump. She reached around the shield with a long knife and stabbed into the poor ant.

Then Calamity’s bow twanged and a jolt shot from Amaryllis’ wand, and the ant was suddenly fading away into magical motes.

“They’ve been crawling out of there for a while,” Puffles said. “Dangerous lot.”

Congratulations! Your party has exterminated a Quilted Ant (Level 5)! Due to combating as a team your reward is reduced!

“Could have used some warning,” Caprica said.

“Ah, that’s true,” Puffles said as he scratched behind his head. “Sorry ‘bout that. Ought to warn you now that I doubt that’ll be the only ant we see. There’s hundreds of them down there.”

“So we’ll have to conserve our mana and stick close, then,” I said.

At least that one ant didn’t seem all that tough in the end. Just level five, and slowed down by those roots clinging to it? That was manageable.

Then again, levels weren’t everything. A level four dragon could still likely gobble me up.

With a final nod, Puffles led us into the dungeon, one hand holding up a conjured ball of light while while his other three hands kept a firm grip on his pitchfork.

You are Entering the Golden Light Dungeon

Dungeon Level 4-8

Your entire party has entered the Dungeon

Seal Dungeon until exit?

Dungeon left Unsealed

Any Person can Enter Dungeon Instance

Any Person can Exit Dungeon Instance

***