The Dark Elf Quarry was a good hour’s walk outside of the city of Athir, and I found myself enjoying the tranquility of the forest. It was easy to tell that only adventurers came this way. The roads were cracked and old, and the forest on either side grew however it pleased.
This piece of the country was wild. Untamed. Even with a dungeon nearby, the sound of nature sang with the wind.
Before I became used to the bustle of life in New Frausta, this environment had been the kind that I grew up in. Long treks like this one were great for the mind and soul.
Such peace never lasted, though, and the forest opened up to show a huge, ancient mining site.
Despite the sun high in the sky, the quarry was unnaturally dark and gloomy. A wide pit at least as large as a village spread from treeline to treeline. It had been cut in tiers, giving it the shape of a downward spiral all the way to the bottom. Standing at the edge, I couldn’t see that far.
There was an item for that. Reaching into my Dimensional Pocket, I retrieved a pair of goggles with dark lenses. They were made to fit me, and rested comfortably on my face when I put them on. In an instant, the gloomy atmosphere disappeared from the pit, seemingly jumping out to surround it.
The Darklight Goggles were a magnificent piece of magical equipment. Light became dark and dark became light, inverting them at a level that the wearer would be comfortable with. Next, I pulled out my DoD badge and Dungeon Doorknocker and started descending.
Things were a little slippery, and I had to constantly avoid traps. The Dark Elves were just as bad as Kobolds in some regards, and these ones were especially vindictive when it came to the Forest Elves. Trip wires on slopes, pressure plates on already cracked and uneven surfaces, and more. Even to my experienced eye, there were a couple of tricky ones to spot.
Halfway down, I felt the tingle of the DTER and immediately stopped to take a step back. While it was customary to have the dungeon start at an actual entrance, such as a door or gate, it wasn’t necessary. The Dark Elves had requested it to be around the halfway mark specifically. According to the records, it was to protect their home.
Off the records, it was so that they could safely snipe any of the Forest Elves who decided to resume mining operations. No one could say they weren’t petty.
Knowing that the denizens of the Dark Elf Quarry were likely already aware of my presence, I still followed protocol and swung the Dungeon Doorknocker at the slope just inside the entrance. A ripple of force descended into the pit, and I frowned. That shouldn’t have been noticeable to anyone who wasn’t attuned to this location specifically.
Before I had a chance to mull it over, a Dark Elf in a regal white gown emerged from a tunnel at the bottom of the pit. Even at a distance, she was immediately recognizable from the descriptions in the dungeon’s files as Matriarch Akshashka. From her mature beauty to how she held herself to the golden jewelry adorning her short, bone-white hair, everything about her screamed nobility.
I waited patiently for her to ascend to my level, expertly avoiding the traps on her path. A less experienced Dungeon Inspector would have gone to meet her half way. Kaelmourn, I was sure, would have walked in without a care for protocol. This was the proper way to do things, however, and that meant waiting even when the other party certainly seemed to be taking their time.
Once she reached me, Akshashka bowed, her gown revealing more of herself than I cared to see. “Dungeon Inspector Badger,” she greeted. Her accent was light and slow, giving a seemingly carefree measure to her voice. Her ruby eyes gave off a wholly different impression. “I have been awaiting your visit for days now, though I had hoped you wouldn’t be so callous as to come while everyone was asleep.”
“Surprise inspections are supposed to be just that, Matriarch: a surprise,” I replied, bowing with her. I straightened only when she did, returning my badge and knocker to my Pocket. “How did you know I was coming?”
A coy smile tugged at one side of her mouth. “You must think poorly of me if you believe I don’t have eyes and ears in the city my most hated enemy calls their home,” she said. “I have caught wind of your presence, and a certain adventurer has been quite loud about his friendship with a pair of Inspectors. Your tale has spread wide.”
That made me roll my eyes. “Cojisto,” I guessed with a sigh.
“The very one who came to test out my dungeon,” she confirmed. “It was strange, having such a pair come to challenge us. Usually, it’s adventurers from closer to home, but I won’t rile myself with such talk. Instead, I will thank you for not bringing your apprentice. I assure you that we would have remained civil, though it would have been in poor taste. Please, come in. I imagine you must have a lot to discuss. Shall I lead you through the traps?”
Akshashka eyed the path behind me, but would have noticed that I hadn’t set any off. Regardless, she offered me her arm. I had to reach up due to the difference in height, but I took it. Not out of protocol, but etiquette. I really didn’t want any part of this to go badly.
“How is dear Kaelmourn?” she asked conversationally, leading me around the traps. “I hope nothing happened to him, seeing as you’re here in his place.”
“I haven’t spoken to him in months, but he was well enough to take an entirely new route on the other side of New Frausta. I assume he’s well,” I answered.
“That’s good,” she said, patting my hand with her own. “I was so proud of him when I heard he had become a Dungeon Inspector some time ago. He may only be a distant nephew of mine, but he’s family.”
“There’s not much more important than family,” I said as we reached the bottom. The tunnel wasn’t far.
“Good day,” one of the Dark Elf guards in black leather armor greeted while his cohort simply waved. They were both standing at attention, likely because of the presence of the Matriarch, and I nodded at them.
What surprised most surface dwellers about Dark Elf culture was that they were a very social people. As a society that evolved underground, they all grew up in close quarters with each other. Some of their cities were more spread out, of course, but for the most part they were friendly with each other and the people they traded with.
Despite the rumors of demonic worship, cannibalistic tendencies, and slavery — most of which were started by the Forest Elves — they were just another race of people at the end of the day. They had their oddballs and rotten apples, sure, but who didn’t?
The tunnel was even brighter than outside thanks to the Darklight Goggles, but only to the point where it appeared to be naturally illuminated. Every denizen of this place could see in these conditions perfectly fine. The reason I used the goggles instead of some source of light was for their benefit.
As we walked through the maze, our small talk fell to silence. That was fine by me. There were still guards greeting us as we walked. Many of them appeared to have just gotten out of bed, their hair out of place or sleep in their eyes. Undoubtedly, they were ready for combat but heard the visitor was a single Dungeon Inspector.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
At least they were polite. Many of them disabled traps in your way or moved curtains of spider webs out of our way. Their equipment had to have been coated with something special, because not a single one of them got entangled.
Our walk ended after we went through a secret door. I found myself in front of a beautifully built stone mansion. It looked out of place in the cave, but I knew this was the part of the dungeon that most adventurers would never see. Behind the building, which was the last line of defense, were the homes of those who weren’t denizens but lived here to be closer to their loved ones.
Sure enough, a few steps towards the mansion and I felt the DTER disappear. That would make things far more peaceful for the inhabitants.
Akshashka led me into a well-tended fungus garden to a gazebo built out of the cavern’s stone. There was a table with two chairs and a tea set, attended to by three men. Butlers, if I were to guess by their attire. I led the Matriarch to her seat before taking my own.
“You are all dismissed,” she ordered. The three Dark Elves bowed in unison before walking off towards the mansion. “Would you like some tea, Inspector?”
“Perhaps just one cup,” I said. While the answer was no, it would have been considered rude. She had conceded the power dynamic to me by leaving her dungeon of her own free will, becoming vulnerable in the process, and I wanted to treat that consideration with respect. “Matriarch, since you already knew I was coming, what else do you know about my mission?”
“Fairly little, I begrudgingly admit,” she said as she began pouring the tea. “You and your underling, Ferrisdae Anne Runelara, are working with that adventurer and his spellcasting pet, an odd duo, and they have been busy. That is, unfortunately, the most of what we had gleaned from the city rumors.”
I nodded. That really wasn’t much at all. At least Cojisto had managed to keep his mouth shut about the details, at least.
“My junior and I are in Athir to investigate the rising mortality rates in various dungeons,” I said.
“Oh my, how marvelous,” Akshashka said, a sadistic smile blooming on her lips. “I must say, that is not what I had expected to hear you say, but it’s like music to my ears. The Forest Elves are falling like leaves in autumn, then?”
“It’s a small uptick, but one that’s noticeable,” I answered, ignoring her obvious pleasure at the facts.
“And you came to talk to me about it, so we must have made the list as well. I had thought there were a few more celebrations recently than normal.” She set one of the teacups in front of me. “This mushroom tea may be too much for your palette, Inspector, but we have milk and sugar should you need it.”
I brought the cup to my face and smelled it. Based on that alone, it was utterly unpotable. Akshashka didn’t seem to mind, and she took a sip while watching me. I did the same and a bitter, earthy taste filled my mouth. Quickly swallowing it down, I set the teacup on the table and raised my hand.
“No, thank you. It’s quite lovely,” I lied, much to her amusement. We both knew I wasn’t going to touch it again. “And, yes. This dungeon was one of the ones on the list to be checked.”
“Well, it’s not the answer I was hoping for, but it is a delightful one nonetheless,” she said, setting her own cup down. Folding her hands on the table, she leaned forward. “I was hoping you were here to see my daughter.”
“Your daughter?” I asked.
“Yes. Though, you’re here because more of those traitors are dying, so I suppose you are, in a way.”
“Traitors,” I repeated gently.
For a moment, a dangerous look filled with rage and pride passed across Matriarch Akshashka’s eyes. It was almost immediately replaced by her patient smile. If I hadn’t known any better, I may not have believed I had seen it.
“I apologize for speaking out of turn,” she said diplomatically, sitting back up. “I did say that I wouldn’t rile myself up, and I’ve already spoken ill of our tree dwelling… neighbors. Please forgive me, Inspector.”
“There’s nothing to forgive. Sometimes, things are worth getting angry for,” I replied before shifting in my seat. “However, you mentioned your daughter.”
“I did,” she said, nodding. “A delightful little thing of only a hundred and fifty years. She takes after me. I’m really quite proud of her, but over the past six months or so she has been going above and beyond on her duties. Why, it’s rare that I even need to make an appearance as a boss. Aside from your adventuring team, of course.”
“I’m going to need to write this down,” I said before reaching into my Pocket for paper and something to write with. “What exactly changed six months ago?”
“Would you like to speak to Dalsarel, the First Daughter?” she asked. "She can tell you the story in greater detail than I."
“I would,” I said.
Akshashka nodded before bringing her hand, palm up, to her lips. Her fingers squirmed as she started casting a spell. Ashen gray bark grew over her skin as she did. “Come to me in the garden,” she said in her native tongue. Elven script appeared above her hand, taking physical form before she literally blew it away. The words flew off, heading towards the dungeon, and her skin returned to normal.
“Thank you.”
“Anything you need, dear Inspector,” Akshashka responded with a smile. “But the changing factor happened, as I said, six months ago. Is it right of me to assume that, given your... traveling companion, you are familiar with how a sorceress’ bloodline works?”
I nodded. “You may.”
“My family lineage is one where the eldest daughter inherits the power of our ancestors,” she continued. “This is the way things have been for as many generations back as we track. The First Daughter, however, didn’t seem to gain the same magical spark I did.”
“Until now,” I guessed.
“You have the right of it,” Akshashka confirmed. “Dalsarel learned the ways of the martials, upset that she had no magical aptitude but choosing to push past it so that she can contribute to the dungeon in meaningful ways. She became an invaluable part of my personal retinue, fighting at my side in my boss room, after only a few decades of experience.”
“It’s easy to see why you’re proud of her.”
“I am. Six months ago, Dalsarel came into her own power. It was weak, at first, and didn’t manifest in a way that was usual for our family.” To make her point, she cast a small spell that created the illusion of a mushroom in the air. Her skin transformed from soft obsidian to ashen gray bark again, which she showed off before ending the spell. “A deviation in a bloodline is strange, but not unheard of. What mattered was that, in this short amount of time, she’s become powerful enough to nearly rival me.”
“A spellcaster with power to your own with that much martial experience would certainly be a deadly combination, Matriarch.” Thinking about it, I frowned. “Do you think she’s too powerful for this dungeon in particular? That would certainly explain the increased mortality rate.”
“I do like my men cunning, Inspector, and you’ve cut right to the heart of the matter,” she said, nodding. “I was hoping that she was what you were here for. I’d like to open a new dungeon for her. Perhaps a little deeper into the forest. Certainly far enough away for your rules and regulations for it to be deemed safe for those who dwell on the surface.”
“That would solve the problem fairly handily,” I admitted, finding myself nodding along. “But I’ll need to speak with her first.”
Something caught Akshashka’s attention, and her smile widened as she stood up. “And here is the First Daughter herself,” she announced. “My dear Dalsarel, please meet Dungeon Inspector Badger. He’s here because we’ve been killing… doing so well with the errant adventurers finding their way into our home.”
I stood up and turned to greet the newcomer. She was a natural beauty just like her mother, bearing a striking resemblance to the Matriarch. She wore the same black armor as the guards, though hers came with a color-shifting cloak that blended in with whatever was behind her.
“It’s an honor to meet you, First Daughter,” I greeted, bowing.
“A pleasure,” Dalsarel replied before nervously tousling her short hair. “I wasn’t expecting my chance at my own dungeon to come so soon, so I apologize if I seem a little nervous.”
“It’s fine,” I said, becoming distracted as I watched her hand move against her white hair. Her skin was dark, which wasn't out of the ordinary, but the shade was just a little bit brighter in color from her face and the texture seemed different. “From one warrior to another, may I shake your hand?”
Dalsarel looked surprised for a moment before nodding and offering me a handshake. I took it, feeling her firm grip and, perhaps more importantly, the texture of her skin.
I confirmed it immediately: her hand was made of black wood. It was a far cry from her mother’s ashen bark.
“Dalsarel, I think we have a lot to discuss.”