Yenstar walked alongside the travelling caravan headed from Tornmer to Esland, the capital of Horamear. Moving with the trade caravan was slow and mind numbing but he was far too old to try crossing the Wastes on his own.
The Wastes were a wide desert full of death. Over 100 years ago adventurers, heroes and champions from every guild, parthenon and deity came and killed the rogue dungeon that sucked the life out of the Wastes. What they had been before is anyone's guess. Now they were filled with twisted trees that feed on blood instead of sunlight. Twisted creatures that only a mad dungeon could mash together. How they still lived after the thing was gone… who knew. But they would eat anything, each other included.
Sadly it was the simplest way to the capital. Not that he really needed to go there. It was just another stop on his endless journey.
He’d been happy and contient to live out the rest of his life in Grovet, a nice village in the heart of a lush forest. Right on the border of the Elvish kingdom Linoen. He’d been the dungeon keeper there for 47 years. Then someone with more money than sense paid to have their son take the position. The kid was barely even B rank, how he was going to handle an A rank dungeon and the A-SS rank people that trained there…. Well it wasn’t his problem now. He thought bitterly
Yenstar felt as much as heard the little tigerling at his heels. Why the little girl had attached herself to a rumpled, dusty, old man with a terrible scowl he couldn’t figure out. But ever since the night they left Tornmer she had been his shadow.
He couldn’t help but smirk at the girl. Her head was tilted back, eyes wide as she stared at the grand sight they were walking past. She’d ran into him a few times today doing the same thing.
“I knew it was big, but it’s soooo big.” She said for the 15th time. Not that he had counted.
“Mount Peleter is like nothing else in the whole of the world. Standing here on the Eastern edge of Hen’zti’s Belt.” One of the nearby merchants said.
He had to admit it was impressive. The mountain stood alone on the eastern side of the gap they were using. Yenstar had heard many argue that it wasn’t part of the belt. That the tapering of the belt into the foothills they were crossing meant the mountain was alone. The fact it stood 5 times the height of the tallest mountain in the chain, was also brought into the argument. Not that he much cared either way. Hen’zti’s Belt, with or without Peleter, was the edge of the Hen’zti coast. Peleter’s knees, as these foothills were called, was one of only 2 passable gaps in the mountains. Well unless you wanted to climb over the snow capped peaks and risk the wrath of the beasts that called it home. Hen’zti meant caution in dwarvish for a reason. The belt and the bay were not to be crossed lightly. Which is why Tornmer was the only port on the Hen’zti Bay.
Well there was Adortin, but few would travel the Lost Forest. Those that had mana training felt weak and slow there. Magic was unpredictable and nearly every plant had some kind of toxin. There was a legend that the gods had once razed the forest to ash but he wasn’t sure if he believed that.
Giving his head a shake Yenstar focused back on the road and on his mare. He’d bought her in Tornmer when he’d arrived by ship a month back. It was much easier to have her carry the supplies and him, when his old injuries acted up.
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4 days passed in the shadow of Peleter. Yenstar could smell the end of the mountain before he saw it. The smell of mold and old rot was soft and almost sweet right now. As they neared the Dead Swamp it would get stronger. Thankfully it wouldn’t take long for the road to turn away from that bog and head due West.
They had turned from the swamp but many still complained about the smell as they set up camp for the night. Not being as bothered by the scent Yenstar laid his bedroll to the east of the group. Hoping to get some quiet.
The sky was turning colors as the sun left the sky when he felt something. A wave rushed over him. It felt like a shot of hot coffee, warm and invigorating. It had been years since he’d felt a dungeon sigh. As many called that first wave of mana when a new dungeon opened.
Yenstar had trouble sleeping that night. But he knew better than to set off into the wilds at night.
Le’Ly, the tigerling, refused to stay with the caravan. As she was an orphan being sent to a new orphanage in Lexon he decided to let her join him. Better a life traveling with a jaded grump than living in an orphanage until she was of age.
With a shake of his head and a final wave to the group they headed toward the swamp and the new dungeon.
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Olive was rushing through the trees of her home laughing with wild abandon. Tuck was jogging through the undergrowth doing a good job of keeping up with his twin in the trees.
“You know we are supposed to be patrolling.” His voice dull from saying the same line everyday since they turned 13.
“I AM patrolling.” She replied with a giggle. “What beast would come for a wild girl like me.”
Tuck sighed. “I don’t know but they would bring you back by daybreak.” Tuck didn’t understand his sister. She had always been wild. Running about, putting everything in her mouth and terrorizing anyone that would sit still long enough with her endless questions. He was the exact opposite. He liked sitting on the dock catching fish and watching the sun set over the bay.
Every teen in Adortin from age 13-19 had to do 1 patrol a week. Most were in pairs or 3’s. It was part of their coming of age. No one could marry unless they had done their patrols. How well you did out in the wild could open up new chances for the future. Like their mother. Father was the blacksmith’s son but mother was an orphan. She’d raised her status in the city by learning so much about the plants of the forest. Now she was the second best healer and potions maker.
Tuck wanted to build his own fishing boat and spend his life on the water. As for Olive… he had no idea. And wasn’t sure she knew what she wanted to do either. But he doubted it involved marrying the village boys that cast their eyes on her.
The forest was growing dark and they were close to the end of their patrol when something prickled along Tuck’s skin. Then an odd breeze blew by them.
Years of watching out for his twin is the only reason he caught her as she fell.
Once she was on the ground Olive turned toward the wind with wide eyes. “What was that?” She asked her brother, reaching back and taking his hand for comfort.
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“I don’t know but we need to tell the elders.”
Olive nodded and they started to run as fast as their legs would carry them. Olive couldn’t help but look back several times. She didn’t know what that was but she WAS going to be on the team that found out.
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Ashanna had been the leader of the swamp for 10 years. Balancing the Murloc and Bullywug populations was never easy. Her being a Swamp Hag helped as neither could claim she was favoring her own kind. Her home, Jahesteri, is considered the capital of the Dead Swamp. Not that it was it’s own country, just that none of the Horamear bureaucrats wanted to come into the swamp.
She chuckled at the thought. Each year a disgusted and disgruntled tax collector would meet her in Aglooe, the eastern most village in the swap, to collect taxes and hear grievances. The people of the swamp enjoyed making this take as long as possible.
Her good mood couldn’t last though. Not with her restlessness the past nights. She had a feeling of something coming but wasn’t sure if it was a good omen or bad. She had increased patrols and spoke with the heads of the 3 other villages. Even though Peo wasn’t part of the swamp, the only access road to the goblin village under Peleter ran through her domain and they had good relations. A Murloc runner from Hoggle was sent to the forest city of Riverside and she knew they would alert Adortin.
Ashanna hoped that she was just being paranoid but her foresight and strong magic was why she has been chosen as leader. Not that her magic was reliable with the tainted mana from the forest.
3 days after she sent word to the others the air seemed thick with anticipation. There were whispers in the street from those that were sensitive to mana and magic. Evening was setting in when a burst of the purest mana she had ever felt flowed through Jahesteri. Ashanna took a deep breath feeling the change in the air.
The mana seemed thicker around her. She stumbled back, one of the guards helping her to a seat as a vision took over.
“Send the runners!” Ashanna exclaimed, once the vision ended. “A dungeon has appeared in the forest!”
As the news moved through the town many emotions surged. Fear of the unknown and invasion by the outsiders, joy at this new discovery. But mostly interest and curiosity at how this would change their future.
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Leading a small mixed race village would shock and horrify Orym’s parents. That was one of the reasons he loved his job. Coming to the Lost Forest as a youngling had been an act of defiance against his demanding parents. They expected him to marry an advantageous elvish maid and raise the clans status even higher. What started as rebellion turned into love. There was something about the air under these trees that made his blood sing.
Riverside had become his home. All the blended races and families that lived in the small city was unheard of elsewhere. Bullywugs and Murlocs living side by side. Orcs and goblins working with humans and hags. There were even some beast-kind. Mostly tigerlings and bearlings, a few lycans also called the city home. Though he remained the only elf.
Orym had been considered an odd elf. He loved laughter and playing games. And not just the strategy and political games his race favored. Though Kaz sometimes got onto him for not doing his paperwork or skipping duties to play with the town's children. His dear husband couldn’t stay mad at him long though.
They were lounging in his office. Kaz worked the knots out of Orym’s long hazel hair as he did his paperwork. It was one of those precious days that he could feel the love flowing off his mate. Their bliss was interrupted by a Murloc runner rushing into the office.
Orym stood quickly when he spied Ashanna’s symbol on the scroll he was carrying. “What has happened?” He ordered taking the scroll and moving to his desk. Kaz’s much bulkier form stood behind him looking at the note as well.
“Ashanna has been having jeonity again.” The murloc told him.
“The dreaming.” Orym translated. There was little in the note other than her worry that something potentially devastating was coming. “I’ll send word to Geon in Adortin right away. Thank you for your haste.” He offered the runner a tip and a token that would get him a free room for the night at one of the town’s inns.
The murloc just nodded before leaving at a much slower pace.
“What do you think it is?” Kaz asked. He knew that even though Orym could be childish he was well educated and knew more about the world than anyone else in the forest.
“I don’t know but if it is a power disturbance large enough to cause prophetic dreams then it can be dangerous. I’ll send a letter to some friends. Iridem also has dreams, she could tell us if it is happening elsewhere too or just here in the forest.”
“Why not invite her to stay for a few days? Her mate was an adventurer and so are their 2 children. If there is something dangerous, having more experienced help will be good.”
Orym nodded, taking Kaz’s hand. There was worry in his face. “I will start practicing my archery again. It’s been nearly a decade since I last held a bow.”
“And I will put in more hours at the forge. We will be as ready as we can if something happens.”
“Plan for the worst and it will pass.” Orym said looking up at his mate with a smile. “Isn’t that the Orcish phrase your mother always used for us?”
Kaz laughed. “Yes it was.” There was only a hint of sadness in his eyes at the thought of his dead mother. She had loved him more than life. Unfortunately his human father had passed when he was still a boy, his memories of the man were few and fuzzy.
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2 days later Orym noticed the whispers and disquiet as he practiced his shots. His arms and fingers had all but forgotten the once instinctual motions of archery. He was still better than most human archers but was nowhere near as good as he had been.
Several of the townsfolk seemed on edge as he stowed the weapon on his back and began wandering the streets to find what was wrong. Some seemed to not notice anything odd but others were looking around like someone was watching them. His brow furrowed as he tried to understand why some were affected and not others. As Orym headed to the weastern edge of the town, where Kaz and the forge were, he started to feel a tingle. Like there was something tickling his senses, but on the very edge where he couldn’t pin down what it was.
“Kaz,” He called out over the hammer falls, “Have you noticed anything odd?”
Kaz came to the front of the forge where sales were done. Orym was distracted by the lines of sweat cut in the soot that covered his mates greenish skin. “My eyes are up here.” Kaz joked coming over and tilting Orym’s head up for a soft kiss. “And yes I have noticed that people are a bit jumpy today.”
“I think whatever Ashanna sensed will be here by nightfall.” He told his husband. Though there was still love shining in his eyes, his face was hard. More like the cautious scout he’d been so long ago.
“Let me finish this and I’ll join you on the wall.” Orym just nodded as Kazz headed to the back again.
The walls around Riverside were 20ft high but thinner on this side. The side that faced the river had to be thicker to withstand any flooding that might happen during the rainy season. Orym headed to the guard station at the doors to the forest. He ordered for shifts to be changed early and for the guards to go onto 8 hour shifts instead of the usual 12.
“Plan for the worst and it will pass.” Kaz stated as he joined Orym at the bottom of the wall.
Orym took his mates hand and they headed up the wall. He was glad he still had his bow strapped to his back. Kaz also had a large crossbow in his other hand. If something attacked they would do their best to stop it.
The sun had sunk below the treetops leaving the sky painted beautiful reds and oranges, when there was a wave of power that washed over them. The guards tightened their grip on their weapons.
Once the wave passed Orym laughed.
“What was that?” Kaz asked. He didn’t know the feeling but something in the air now seemed familiar.
“That was a dungeon opening its doors.” He replied happily. “Guards keep the 8 hour shifts for tonight then switch back to 12s at noon. The beasts of the forest might be restless tonight.” That said he turned and they left the wall.
“A dungeon. Are you sure?” Kaz questioned as he followed his husband home.
“Yes I have been near one that opened before. It’s a feeling you don’t forget. We’ll send word to Hoggle and Adorntin. Then letters to Esland, Jodar, and Linoen. All 3 capitals and the countries they represent will want to know about this. Unfortunately with a dungeon here our quiet life will be getting much more hectic and tedious.” He explained as they left the wall and headed home.
Kaz shook his head. It had been 25 years since he last saw a dungeon. He hoped this one was tamer than some stories from the adventuring guild.
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It was after daybreak before a small disturbance was felt in Tornmer. An alchemist was studying one of the odd beasts that called the Bay of Hen’zti home when one of his delicate instruments shattered. Looking at several others he then left the small room he’s rented near the docks and headed toward the mayor's office.
“What do I owe this pleasure?” Mayor Roberts asked. It was obvious that he didn’t like the old man and that he didn’t put much faith in his work.
“Some of my instruments have shown a spike in mana.” The old man was used to that reaction. Few remembered all the things he had invented in his life. They focused on the explosions and failures instead. “I believe a dungeon has opened. Either very small and young or many miles away.”
Roberts perked up. He didn’t care about research into creatures that threatened his shipping trade but a dungeon was a cash cow. Hen’zti’s Throne was a thriving dwarvish and gnome city only due to the 2 dungeons nearby. There was no access to them without passing through the city. Just as it was the only mountain crossing without traveling miles and miles to the south east to Peleter’s shoulders.
Dismissing the alchemist he summoned a runner and the falconer. A letter to Hen’zti’s Throne was not an option, but he sent the slowest runner in the city. Meanwhile the much faster falcon was sent to the Adventurer's guild at Esland. Being the first to alert them of the dungeon was worth a nice reward. And all the increased traffic would increase his profits. Roberts couldn’t wait till the guild representative arrived.