Ferrisdae and I followed the lumbering rat to the kitchen where the stairs to the cellar were. Despite my stony demeanor, Ferrisdae could not contain her laughter. That stopped the moment she stepped on the stairs.

I felt it too, once I started descending. A familiar, unwelcome feeling tickled the back of my mind. That was a staple of dungeon magic that we called the DTER: the Dungeon Threshold Emotional Response. It affected everyone differently, but it functioned as a built-in warning that the place they were entering was dangerous and kept those intruding alert.

Back when I first started delving into dungeons I had hated the feeling of it, like dread wrapped in anxiety. Now it just felt natural. Ferrisdae had to shake her head to brush off the feeling, then fixed her hair again.

Sighing, I reached inside my jacket. Stitched into the lining was a Dimensional Pocket, and from it I pulled a simple black hair tie.

"Here," I said. Ferrisdae turned around and looked surprised at the offering. Her eyes flicked from the hair tie to the short brown hair atop my head. Her eyes damn near twinkled. I already knew what she was going to ask, and I nipped it. "Do you want it or not?"

The Elf snatched it from my hand, grinning, and immediately started putting her hair in a ponytail. "Aww," she said. "You're a big softy, aren't you?"

I leveled my best scowl at her. "Do you know what happens to hair when it gets caught in a trap or hazardous mechanism?" She opened her mouth, but I spoke over whatever she was going to say. "You lose the scalp the hair is attached to. Ripped clean off. Your hair doesn't grow back even after a healer gets to you. I'd rather not report back to the chief with a hairless rookie. You're welcome."

Ferrisdae seemed sufficiently chastised. "Thank you, sir," she said. Based on the way she took the rest of the stairs two at a time with light steps, I didn't think my scowl had the effect I wanted.

I reached the bottom of the creaky wooden stairs and joined Ferrisdae in scrutinizing the room. This one was exactly what you would expect from a tavern's cellar. Bottles lined the shelves hanging on the stone wall over stacked casks. A cold box sat against the wall opposite that, no doubt filled with meat for the kitchen. If Krad had malevolent intentions, this could have been much worse for Frescan.

"Come on out, my loyal subjects!" Krad called from the middle of the room. At his command, rats started popping their heads out from behind the tallest stack of casks. A few at first, then a dozen. The rats kept pouring out until the room was half full of them. Two exceedingly large rats, definitely dire rats, came plodding out last, climbing and resting atop the casks. None of them moved to attack, but waited calmly. "These are those dungeon guys I was telling you about."

The rats started talking amongst themselves at that. Not in our language, of course, but it was obvious the dungeon was imparting some kind of intelligence to them. Some dungeon rituals would do that, but it was incredibly rare for a spontaneous dungeon to grant its denizens some form of higher intelligence.

"I'm thinking… two large swarms," Ferrisdae said after having taken a rough estimate of the sheer number of rats before us.

"Swarm size categories are hard to eyeball starting off," I told her. "I'd say one large, then either a medium or two small sized. Big, but not considered large."

Ferrisdae's swept over the rats one more time, and gave me a nod. "Hello, everyone," she said, stepping forward. "Please let me be the first to congratulate you all on the making of this dungeon. This will be a big first step for everyone here." The rats cheered.

"Now, we're not here to step on anyone's toes," Ferrisdae continued. "We're just here to help his majesty the Rat King set up this dungeon to everyone's standard. We'll help with the initial layout with suggestions, your king will have some time to set things up, and once a representative comes back for final checks we should be able to open your dungeon to the public. You're going to be a lot of people's first dungeon, so you have a lot to be proud of."

A cacophony of squeaks erupted at her words as the rats cheered again. After a few moments, Krad lifted his hands and the crowd settled down. "Thank you, wise official. Do you want to give your suggestions first? Or can I tell you what I have planned?" he asked. The rat was trembling with excitement.

"We'd love to hear your thoughts, your majesty," Ferrisdae said with a small curtsy. She showed more respect to Krad now that we were in front of his subjects.

"Yes!" Krad yelled. He scurried up one of the casks to be with the dire rats. "Alright, so imagine, you open up the cellar and come down the stairs. You know there's rats, and you descend slowly, keeping an eye out. You hit the stone floor, and that's the cue for Sasha," he gestured to the larger of the two dire rats beside him. "To climb onto the cold box. Make it look like she was trying to get in.

"You and Sasha lock eyes, and she bellows a war cry. The two of you start fighting. That signals Rat Pack 1 to come out of the crawlspace behind these casks and join the fight. With me so far?" Krad asked.

Ferrisdae nodded. "A dire rat and a swarm is a classic encounter. You also leave a hint on where to go after the fight with the Rat Pack's entrance. Approved."

Another round of cheerful squeaks. "Excellent, then let's go deeper. You'll have to move the casks here in the corner." Krad jumped down behind the stack.

Ferrisdae looked at me, but I just gestured onwards. We started moving towards the casks, the rats parting to avoid our feet. I watched as the rookie moved the casks and set them down beside her. They didn't seem heavy. One fell to the floor and rang hollow. That was considerate; there was no chance of accidentally destroying Frescan's stock.

The crawlspace was revealed. It was roughly two and a half feet both tall and wide. I could crouch, one of the many benefits of being a Halfling, but Ferrisdae was going to have to crawl through. She knelt down to get a better view of the small tunnel.

It looked like a dirt tunnel, the inside dark, but there was light at the end of the tunnel, perhaps 30 feet away. The floor was riddled with parchment scraps, empty bottles, and what appeared to be chicken and pig bones. Hidden amongst the trash was a tripwire. I followed it with my eyes to the shelf above the hole. It was meant to drop full bottles onto whoever was careless enough not to check.

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Ferrisdae hummed, tapping her chin. "Hmm…" She started, staring at the tripwire. "That's a bit difficult to see for a first dungeon, let alone right at the beginning. A rogue or ranger has a decent shot of finding it, but not everyone would be so lucky." I nodded along.

“What do those mean?” Krad asked. “Rogue or ranger?”

“For adventurers, they typically fall into broad categories that we call classes,” Ferrisdae explained. “This helps keep things that are usually chaotic stay ordered. A rogue is someone who specializes in stealth and dexterous expertise, like disabling traps. A ranger is someone who gets along well in the wilderness, and learns abilities to help bolster that.

“Barbarians, fighters, and paladins are some of the other martial classes. Instead of spells, like that wizard who left the spellbook or a druid, they have access to powerful techniques called Martial Arts. Like spells, they have varied effects like devastating attacks, reinforcing their armor or bodies, or special movement options. Too many to list, really.

“I am a sorceress,” Ferrisdae said as she started winding down. “I use magic that I naturally know. I can’t learn spells like a wizard can, but I also don’t have to consult a spellbook whenever I want to prepare magic for the day. This explanation does throw a very wide net. There are specializations inside of each class, and there are more class categorizations, too. I can go into more details, if you like.”

“Oh, no, I think I’ve got it,” Krad said unconvincingly. He lowered his head in thought for a few moments, then looked back at Ferrisdae. "For the trap, what do you recommend?"

The rat was humble in matters he wasn't sure of. That was a nice change of pace for a self-proclaimed king.

"Two things come to mind," Ferrisdae responded. "You can either remove some of the trash here, make it easier to see, or you can remove or empty some of the bottles meant to fall so it does less damage. Dungeons are meant to be challenging, but fair."

Krad nodded. "I understand. We'll get that fixed after the tour. The second room is halfway through." He turned and disappeared down the tunnel.

Ferrisdae hesitated, but only for a moment. She got onto her hands and knees and began crawling. I hunched over and followed her. The trash was graciously pushed aside for me by the rookie, giving me a clear path.

In the middle of the tunnel was a small dome. I could stand up straight, but Ferrisdae could only crouch. Four holes led to small alcoves. "This is where Rat Pack 2 will be stationed," Krad explained. "Once they get to the Nest here, they can check the holes if they want to, we have coins in some of them so it's worth sticking an arm through. Rat Pack 2 will come out regardless, fight for a few rounds, then escape under the cellar stairs."

"It's too short," Ferrisdae said, indicating the ceiling. "I do like the setup, but rooms like this have to be at least a standard 4 feet tall."

"Why?" Krad asked.

"Because swarms are notoriously difficult to take on with melee weapons," she explained. "We try to give the medium size adventurers a little more room to swing while still keeping it difficult. I do appreciate that the Rat Pack only spends a short time as a danger before fleeing, though. And the treasure, of course. Feel free to let them fight longer against small sized adventurers."

Stroking his chin, Krad looked thoughtful. "Okay," he said. "Understood. Fix the bottle trap and expand this room. Any other notes?"

"No more for this room."

"Then let me show you my throne!" Krad yelled. His excitement had officially reached its crescendo. Unfortunately for me, Ferrisdae fed off of that. She, too, let out a cheer as she resumed the crawl.

The final room was lit by natural light. I glanced up, seeing the darkening sky above through planks of wood. It looked like we were underneath some kind of open air structure.

"You're not worried about adventurers sneaking in from above?" Ferrisdae asked.

Krad looked up. "Nope. Frescan said there was a gazebo up there; a monument to the kingdom of Thatcher. Anyone breaking it would be severely punished."

We both nodded and continued our sweep. A large pile of empty bottles and refuse sat in one of the corners opposite the tunnel, but I could see a few glints of metal and gold inside. It would take some digging but, as far as treasure hoards went, I had seen worse.

Cushions and cloth scraps littered the floor. It was easy to tell that this was where they slept. Despite the ventilation, the smell of rats hung heavy in the surprisingly large throne room.

The throne itself sat to the wall left of the tunnel opening, as if to watch over both the treasure and the tunnel. It was a rocking chair. Well made, but the fat rat was having some trouble climbing on it due to his potbelly. He finished his scramble before we finished investigating.

"Behold!" Krad said. He spread his arms out wide. "My throne."

We beheld at his behest. He was practically sinking into the cushion. Ferrisdae gave a small clap. "Let me guess, you'll be here on the throne, the other dire rat will be… on these cushions here, and Rat Pack 3 will be dispersed until they enter. The smell will cause some form of distraction or sickening." She looked at the king. "Did I get it?"

Krad nodded. "Most of it. Some of the Rat Pack will be scouting the tunnel to see what the commotion is about, then come back. I'm not sure what you mean by smell, though. Smells normal to me."

Ferrisdae opened her mouth to speak against the assertion, but I knocked a hand on her leg, shaking my head slightly. The smell was light enough that it probably wouldn't sway an encounter. Probably.

The elf stared at me like she wanted to argue, but let it go. I'd explain it to her later. She turned her attention back to Krad. "Similar to the first room, but with a boss battle. So what about you, your majesty? What's your most powerful attack?"

"Thanks to the wizard I ate, I've gained magic powers!"

"Oh, that's simply wonderful!" Ferrisdae said. She pulled her wand from where it was hanging on her hip. It detached easily. "As I said before, I’m a sorceress, myself. Please, cast your highest level spell at me."

"Are… are you sure?" Krad asked nervously. All of the bravado had left his voice. "I don't want to hurt you or anything."

Ferrisdae smiled at the suddenly bashful rat king. It was kind of cute, I guess. "Please, I insist. I have plenty of potions in case I get hurt."

"Okay… If you're sure…" Krad stood up on his hind legs. His hands waved, fingers wiggling, and he squeaked loudly. Two shimmering orbs of force unerringly flew from his hands towards Ferrisdae. Magic Missile.

The elf didn't miss a beat, she intercepted the missiles with her wand, dissolving them as their magic was undone and leaving her completely unharmed. "Very nice, your majesty," she praised. "Low level caster, dire rat, and a swarm. Tough, but not unbalanced."

I nodded along, noting that she didn’t bring up the smell this time. The warning that there was one last swarm sealed it to me. Three swarms was rough, but that could be hinted at so smart adventurers could prepare.

"So it's approved?" Krad asked hopefully.

"Very close to it. Once those changes are made and you're given clearance after a final check, certainly." Ferrisdae gave Krad a thumbs up. "You'll have a couple weeks to do the alterations."

"Huzzah!" Krad yelled. He started scrambling off his chair and made a beeline towards his loyal subjects in the first room. "We got it! We got it!"

Ferrisdae and I were left in the throne room. She looked at the ceiling. "You know, this smell will really suck for anyone trying to enjoy the gazebo."

I looked up at the ceiling as well, then nodded. "Yup."