“Master, the adventurers have entered the dungeon.”
“Yes, I’m aware. Well then, let’s see how they perform. [Logs].”
Instantly, a recording of events in the dungeon appears, scrolling as new details get added to the bottom. It reads:
Party of Four adventurers entered Floor 1.
Party of Four adventurers encountered a Pack of Goblins.
==Combat initiated==
Order was determined to be Adventurer #2, Goblin #1, Goblin #2, Goblin #3, Goblin #4, Goblin #5, Adventurer #1, Adventurer #3, Adventurer #4.
==Round 1 began==
Adventurer #2 fired a crossbow bolt at Goblin #1. Attack was a hit, piercing through Goblin #1’s armor and chest. Goblin #1 took 8 piercing damage (0/7).
Goblin #1 was slain.
Goblin #2 slashed at Adventurer #1 with a scimitar. Attack was deflected by Adventurer #1’s chainmail armor. Adventurer #1 took 0 damage (28/28).
Goblin #3 slashed at Adventurer #1 with a scimitar. Attack was deflected by Adventurer #1’s chainmail armor. Adventurer #1 took 0 damage (28/28).
Goblin #4 slashed at Adventurer #1 with a scimitar. Attack managed to slash through an area unprotected by chainmail armor. Adventurer #1 took 6 slashing damage (22/28).
Goblin #5 slashed at Adventurer #4 with a scimitar. Adventurer #4 nimbly dodged the attack. Adventurer #4 took 0 damage (13/13).
Adventurer #1 swung a longsword at Goblin #2. Attack missed wide. Goblin #2 took 0 damage (7/7).
Adventurer #3 casted Frost Cone, blasting a forward area with biting cold ice. Goblin #2 was unaffected, taking 0 damage (7/7). Goblin #3 was frozen to the bone, taking 13 frost damage (0/7). Goblin #4 was unaffected, taking 0 damage (7/7). Goblin #5 was frozen to the bone, taking 11 frost damage (0/7).
Goblin #3 was slain.
Goblin #5 was slain.
Adventurer #4 swung a longsword at Goblin #4. Attack was deflected by Goblin #4’s shield. Goblin #4 took no damage (7/7).
==Round 2 began==
Adventurer #2 fired a crossbow bolt at Goblin #2. Attack was a hit, piercing through Goblin #2’s armor and chest. Goblin #2 took 14 piecing damage (0/7).
Goblin #2 was slain.
Goblin #4 slashed at Adventurer #4 with a scimitar. Attack was deflected by Adventurer #4’s leather armor. Adventurer #4 took 0 damage (13/13).
Adventurer #1 swung a longsword at Goblin #4. Attack managed to cut through a vulnerable area in the armor. Goblin #4 took 5 slashing damage (2/7).
Adventurer #3 targeted Goblin #4 with Embers. Goblin #4 was consumed by flames, taking 5 burn damage (0/7).
Goblin #4 was slain.
==Combat concluded==
250 experience points were distributed to the party of Four adventurers.
The logs continue similarly for the second floor of the dungeon, wherein the adventurers face off against the lone hippogriff. Again, the party comes away successful, a bit more bruised than before, but clearing the level nonetheless.
“Now,” Kalfig grunts, “Time for the final encounter.”
****
Wendell wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead, careful not to disturb his leather helm. At present, the party is taking a short rest between floors. He uses the quick reprieve to inspect his offhand, removing the leather bracer from his left arm. This reveals a rather nasty set of scratches underneath, courtesy of the hippogriff, angry red lines that run across his otherwise smooth skin. The bracer has caught the worst of the damage, but as he touches the wound gingerly with a finger, he still winces slightly from the sting. Almost by reflex, he calls upon his own Stats, finding the spot that reads:
Status
Alive, Injured
Combat Level
2
Combat Experience
70 / 500
Health
11 / 13
Suddenly, a voice speaking to him causes him to snap his head up. It asks, “Potion?” To his surprise, Wendell finds that it’s Hector, the Ranger of their party. This is surprising because, until that very moment, he had yet to hear the man utter a single syllable. But now, the man is standing before him, offering a small glass vial with an outstretched hand.
Not wanting to seem a burden in any way whatsoever, Wendell quickly shakes his head, insisting, “No, no, I’m fine! Really! Look, it doesn’t hurt at all! So don’t waste it on me! My arm’ll heal after we exit the dungeon anyways!” He wonders if he has come across as a bit too forceful, a bit too desperate, but Hector’s inscrutable expression gives nothing to go on. Then Wendell sees the man offer a nod, tuck the potion back into a sash, and walk silently away.
Wendell breathes out a sigh of relief, feeling like he just dodged an arrow. That was...weird. Nice of him… but weird… Before he can think more on the subject, however, he hears Garrett calling for them, gesturing them to the stairs. Wendell follows the party’s lead, down to the next floor and into the adjoining corridor. This time, the hallway opens up into a vast desert, with stars twinkling in the otherwise black sky above. Due to the darkness, Wendell cannot determine the size of the space, but if previous floors are any indication, this current one is also around four hundred feet in all directions.
“Stay alert,” Garrett reminds as he peers out into the emptiness, “It could be-”
Before the man can finish, a tremor in the ground interrupts him, and a split second later, the earth about fifty feet ahead of them explodes, sending sand flying into the air. From amongst the debris, the final boss of the dungeon emerges- the King Scorpion. And certainly, the creature is a scorpion in form, but as the name alludes to, it is no ordinary arachnid. At eight feet long, weighing in over half a ton, the monster is the size of a horse, if horses are to have eight legs and segmented bodies, the latter of which is encased in a deep black shell, rendering the creature nearly invisible against the equally dark backdrop. In fact, the only indication Wendell has of the monster’s presence at all is the faint outline of its body, drawn from the glisten of occasional starlight. Well, that and the message that appears, hovering above the creature’s head, which reads,
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
You have discovered King Scorpion. Creature entry has been added to your bestiary.
It quickly fades, replaced by:
Type
Scorpion
Subtype
King
Description
King Scorpions are burrow creatures found in dry environments, most commonly deserts. They are predators, who attack with two large claw-like appendages called pedipalps. They can also attack with their stinger, which releases a deadly toxin into anything having the misfortune of being stung.
Owner
Wild
Level
3
Stats
Use Identify for details
Wendell does not have time at all to read the rather distracting notifications, for despite Garrett’s timely warning, the party is still surprised by the creature’s sudden emergence, giving the latter the initiative of first attack. The arachnid quickly scuttles over, its eight legs gliding easily over the sandy surface of the desert biome, to the nearest available target, which in this case is Garrett. Gap closed, the monster abruptly swings at the man with its thick, teardrop-shaped pedipalp.
Garrett just manages to put up his shield in time, deflecting the blow. The force of the strike, however, still knocks him backwards, sending the man flying off his feet. As he’s recovering, the scorpion raises its other pedipalp, preparing for a second attack, aimed directly for his skull. Before it can land the blow atop Garrett’s head, however, Wendell notices the creature suddenly stumble backwards, and it takes him a second to realize what has happened, for that is when he spots the crossbow bolt, lodged in one of the scorpion’s eight eyes. Hector has landed a bullseye, literally.
By reflex, Wendell finds himself turning, to give Hector a look, and as he does so, he also spots Roger, who appears in the midst of spellcasting. Though he himself has no idea about specific incantations or gesticulations, he recognizes the general form, the mumbling of words of power accompanied by motions of the body. A moment later, and he hears Roger call out, “[Embers]!”
Suddenly, Wendell sees fire spew forth from the man’s hands, an orangish red cone that illuminates the darkness as it soars towards the scorpion, encasing it in flames. The scorpion responds by raising both its pedipalps, to shield itself, as it is slowly being pushed back by the heat. Spotting this defensive posture, Wendell’s eyes suddenly grow wide, and something triggers his body to begin to move, the culmination of forces and pressures swirling around his consciousness, as a singular thought passing through his mind: Now’s my chance!
He dashes forward, sword angled for a thrust, targeting the soft space that lies between the arachnid’s hard chitin plating. His instinct is good, his aim true, and as he plans, he is deftly able to weave his blade into the narrow space, shoving it in. Where he fails, however, is in his innate lack of Power, for if he had been as strong as Garrett, or Roger even, his strike would have pierced upwards, all the way through to the creature’s heart, providing a fatal blow. Instead, his sword barely penetrates in, dealing little to no damage. Moreover, the unexpectedly weak result brings about a moment of hesitation in Wendell’s mind, the pause just long enough to give the monster a chance to counter.
“Behind you!” he hears a warning being yelled, but by the time he turns to react, it is already too late. A sudden burst of pain explodes through his back, as the monster’s stinger pierces straight through his leather armor, digging into his muscles and organs. Wendell finds himself stumbling, the sword dropping from his hand. Blood pours out of his mouth, and his vision begins to blur, as a series of notifications appear in rapid succession.
You have taken 8 piercing damage.
You have taken 1 poison damage.
You have taken 1 poison damage.
...
He blacks out.
*****
Wendell’s back at the guildhall, several hours having passed since he “died” in the dungeon, during which the remainder of his party had cleared the run and collected the loot, after which they too had returned to the hall. But after only a brief greeting from Garrett, Roger had pulled the three aside for a private conversation, and that is where his party is at present, sitting at a different table, engaged in what appears to be a rather heated discussion.
Wendell twiddles his thumbs nervously, looking from the tabletop behind which he sits, to the splintered wooden floor beneath his feet. That’s when a sudden commotion draws his attention away. He hears the slamming of a fist against a stool, knocking it over, and then Roger exclaiming, “Why the fuck are we giving him any share of the loot at all? We had to carry his dead weight the entire dungeon run!”
Wendell looks up, just in time to catch Garrett shushing Roger. He also spots Hector, but the man does not glance his way, appearing disengaged from the entire matter. And although the guildhall is mostly empty, Wendell can’t help but scrunch his body, trying to make himself as small as possible. He looks back down, staring long at the wooden floor, before finally, he hears footsteps approaching and the sound of Garrett’s voice.
“Wendell-”
Wendell keeps his gaze low, hands forming tight fists under the table, as he interrupts, “I’m sorry, Mister Garrett. Roger’s right. About the loot, I don’t need any-”
A hand on his shoulder causes him to stop. Surprised, he looks up, and finds Garrett giving him a gentle smile. “Don’t mind him, Wendell. Roger’s always been... a bit of a hothead. Here.” Wendell’s eyes open wide as he sees Garrett dropping a small cloth sack onto the table. He takes it with a shaky hand and, opening it, he finds a few copper coins within. “But I don’t deserve-” he begins to protest.
Garrett holds out a hand, stopping him. “Look, we did the run together. So what’s share is fair, right?”
“... Thank you,” Wendell says softly.
“No problem,” Garrett replies.
Wendell watches as the man turns, as if about to leave. Seeing this, a thought crosses his mind, I have to at least ask. With someone as nice as Garrett, maybe there’s a chance… “Uh, Mister Garrett?”
“Yes?”
“... About, about the-” Wendell gathers as much courage as he can muster, and finishes the thought, “About the next dungeon run, when-?”
Once more, he is interrupted by a hand on his shoulder, with Garrett giving him a wide grin. “You were pretty beat up, right? How about you take it easy for a while, champ, sit the next one out? I’ll contact you when there’s another opportunity.”
He knows his request was a tall ask to begin with, and Garrett has provided him with the most diplomatic of answers, but the response still doesn’t cut any less deep. Wendell forces a grin in turn, then says, “Right… Of course. Thank you again, Mister Garrett.”
****
Wendell makes his way back to his room at the local inn, not in the mood to speak to anyone. Up the stairs he goes, quickly shutting the door behind himself, before taking a brief pause. As he gazes blankly into the small space, a swirl of emotions overwhelms his mind, and his breathing quickens, like he cannot get enough air. Feeling suffocated, he starts to shed his leather armor, chucking it piece by piece against the wall. As the leather cap comes down, so too does his long, golden locks, which flow past his shoulders, and as he springs free of the chest piece, so too does his bosom spring free on his chest. He mumbles to himself, and as there is no longer a need to deepen his voice, it comes out light and feminine, which of course is natural, given “he” is really a “she”- Wendy, not Wendell.
“[Stats],” she commands.
Status
Alive, Injured
Combat Level
2
Combat Experience
0 / 500
Health
6 / 13
Seeing this information, Wendy leans back against the door, sliding down until her butt touches the ground. With two hands, she grips the back of her smooth thighs, her head resting buried in her knees, the fall of her hair hiding the pained expression on her face.
“Fuck.”
****
Unable to find another party to join, and unwilling to keep paying for the inn, Wendy decides to head back to Topia for the time being. The trip to her village is a five days affair, being about a hundred miles north of Bristle. Traveling by foot, she moves along the merchant routes, dirt roads formed by extensive use rather than any intentional construction, and she makes camp in the nearby woods to pass the nights.
All proceeds without incident until the morning of the fifth day, when she is just about to reach her destination. Stopping in the forest for a bathroom break, a sudden glimmering beyond the trees catches her attention. Curious, she makes her approach, and what she discovers causes her mouth to drop, the words, “No fucking way,” escaping her lips, for what she sees is the familiar violet of a dungeon portal.
“Is this for real?” she wonders aloud, “I know for a fact there’s not supposed to be a dungeon in this area.” That’s why she had gone all the way to Bristle, after all.
But… this has to be a dungeon portal, right? I mean, what else can it be? Still… why is it hidden all the way out here? Why is it not mentioned anywhere? I definitely didn’t see anything about this in the Adventurers’ Guild directories. Now that I think about it, I definitely didn’t see this last time I was home either. Does that mean it’s new? Are there such things as new dungeons?
Suddenly, a different line of thinking crosses her mind.
Wait, am I the only one that knows about this? If that’s the case, I’d have the dungeon all to myself. No restrictions on party size, frequency of usage, experience I can obtain…
The last of these lingers in her mind, and she stares at the portal for a long moment, as if deciding what to do. Briefly, the notion of danger crosses her mind, considerations of the dungeon being well beyond her level, but the allure of the potential casts these to the wayside, the thought of her own private dungeon, of a way to quickly advance ranks. She gathers her things, equipping herself.
She steps into the portal.