Hel
"Come on, Hels!" Elijah called out, his voice echoing through the stone corridor as he quickened his pace.
"Stop rushing," Hel hissed back, half-jogging to keep up with him. "You're going to get us both hurt." Despite her protests, she matched his pace, her eyes darting nervously between the dark stone walls. The flickering torchlight cast eerie shadows, and every corner felt like it could be hiding a trap or something much worse.
Elijah chuckled, an excitement in his voice that bordered on reckless. "No, we have to be faster than the rest of these parties. That’s how you find the good loot! It’s all about getting there first."
He wasn’t entirely wrong. The dungeon had just opened, and although it wasn’t packed yet, the number of adventurers entering was steadily increasing. By midday, the corridors would be crowded with people searching every corner for anything remotely valuable. As the day went on, the best loot would be picked clean, and only scraps would remain for the slower or less fortunate parties.
But rushing blindly through the maze-like corridors of a dungeon was an invitation for disaster.
The two of them moved down a dark, narrow hallway, the walls damp and cold, lined with rough stone bricks that looked ancient, weathered, and foreboding. It was exactly what Hel had imagined a dungeon to be—a maze of twisting stone passages, random alcoves, and shadowy inlets that concealed gods knew what kind of horrors. This place could easily lead to treasure… or to death.
She took a steadying breath, trying to calm her nerves. She’d barely been an adventurer for a few weeks now, and Elijah, the self-proclaimed "seasoned" dungeon crawler she’d met at the Guild Hall, wasn’t much more experienced than she was. They were both rookies, fresh out of training and eager for their first taste of real treasure. But even she, a newcomer, knew better than to charge into an unknown dungeon without caution.
"Elijah," she said firmly, trying to rein him in. "I get that you’re in a hurry to find good loot. I want to find good loot too. But I also want to find our way out afterward. And if we rush, we’re going to get lost… or worse."
There were plenty of things worse than getting lost in a dungeon. Getting dead was at the top of that list. Adventuring was already a high-risk profession—she’d heard horror stories of careless rookies who went sprinting toward treasure only to fall into traps, be swarmed by monsters, or, if they were really unlucky, both.
She shot a sideways glance at Elijah, trying to gauge his reaction. His face was set in determination, his eyes glinting with greed and confidence—a dangerous mix, she realized with a sinking feeling. This man is going to get us both killed, she thought grimly.
It didn’t help that they had never been to this dungeon before. It was brand new, just formed the day before, and had only stabilized earlier this morning. That meant no maps, no prior knowledge, no reliable reports about the traps and creatures within. All they knew was that it was relatively low-level compared to older dungeons, which made it the perfect target for inexperienced adventurers like themselves.
The government had opened the dungeon to the public as soon as it stabilized, allowing adventurers to enter and try their luck. They’d even organized a line outside the portal, monitoring who went in and out to avoid overcrowding. Hel and Elijah had been among the first in line when the portal opened, securing their spot before the crowds grew unmanageable.
“Look, if we’re not careful, we could get caught in here when it’s near reset time,” Hel warned, trying to appeal to whatever sense of self-preservation Elijah might have left. “You know what happens when the reset hits.”
Elijah shrugged dismissively, but she could see a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. He knew the risks, just as she did. When a dungeon neared its reset period—24 hours after it opened—the monsters grew increasingly aggressive, as if sensing the dwindling loot they were meant to guard. Traps reset more erratically, catching people off guard, and sometimes, powerful creatures from upper floors would even descend to the lower levels, hungry for any adventurers who’d lingered too long.
It was a death trap for those who weren’t prepared, a brutal reminder of why adventuring wasn’t for the faint-hearted.
Hel suppressed a shiver, mentally reassuring herself. They’d only been in here for a short time, and they were still on the first floor. The dungeon had just opened; they had plenty of time before reset. But all the same, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, of something lurking just beyond the flickering shadows.
The dungeon itself was weak, brand new, and supposedly the perfect place for first-time adventurers to cut their teeth. It wasn’t like the older, more developed dungeons with creatures powerful enough to tear rookies apart in seconds. This one was supposed to be safe… relatively speaking. That’s why she and Elijah had chosen it—low risk, low stakes, and hopefully just enough treasure to make it worth the trip.
She stole a glance at Elijah, taking in his appearance as they moved through the corridor. Pale, with short-cropped black hair and intense brown eyes, he was wiry and had an almost manic energy about him. He looked ready to sprint at any moment, like he could hardly contain his excitement. She mentally reviewed his abilities, reminding herself of why she’d chosen to partner with him.
Despite his lack of caution, Elijah did have some useful skills. He was able to cast a unique blinding spell, capable of creating flashes of light that temporarily disoriented any creature within range. It wasn’t the strongest attack, but it was effective against monsters with weak vision or creatures lurking in the shadows. Paired with her own abilities—a small repertoire of support spells, mainly healing and minor defensive wards—they actually made a decent team, at least in theory.
‘In theory,’ she thought dryly, watching as Elijah picked up his pace again, pushing forward like a dog chasing a bone. His eagerness was borderline reckless, but Hel had to admit, his blinding spell could be a lifesaver. If they managed to avoid too many encounters, they might even get in and out without suffering too much damage.
Theoretically, she added in her mind, the word dripping with doubt.
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“Elijah!” she called, trying one last time to slow him down. “Can you please be a little more careful? This place is a maze, and if we get separated, your fancy light spell isn’t going to save us!”
He turned and flashed her a grin over his shoulder. "Relax, Hels! I've got this. We’ll be fine as long as we’re quick and smart about it."
She wanted to scream at him that rushing headlong through a dungeon wasn’t smart at all, but held her tongue, watching as he turned the corner up ahead. She followed, her grip tightening on the small dagger she held, her heart pounding a little faster with each step.
This is a bad idea, she thought, but the glimmer of excitement in Elijah’s eyes kept her moving. She didn’t want to look like a coward, and besides, maybe he was right. They were among the first to enter this dungeon today, and the rewards would be untouched. If they were fast enough, they could get out with a decent haul before the place got too crowded.
But as they moved deeper, the shadows thickened, and the faint sounds of other adventurers behind them grew muffled. Hel could feel her nerves tightening, her instincts screaming at her to slow down, to be careful, to watch every step. She didn’t want to admit it, but part of her had always been wary of dungeons, of the stories she’d heard—the traps, the creatures, the adventurers who went in and never came back out.
Elijah’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "Come on, let’s find that loot! With your support magic and my blinding spell, we’ll breeze right through any monsters in our way."
‘If we survive your terrible decision-making,’ she thought but didn’t say aloud. She nodded, pushing down her anxiety. Maybe he was right. They had complementary abilities. If they kept their heads, they might actually come out of this richer and stronger.
Still, she couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding that clung to her. This dungeon was new, unpredictable, and while it might be “weak” by experienced adventurers' standards, there was still an underlying danger here. The stone walls felt like they were pressing in, the flickering torchlight casting strange shapes along the floor. Every step seemed to echo too loudly, as if something was listening, waiting.
Hel forced herself to focus, drawing closer to Elijah, her senses heightened as they navigated the dark corridors. Somewhere up ahead, the promise of treasure awaited. And somewhere, lurking just out of sight, were the monsters and traps that would test every ounce of their skill and caution—or lack thereof.
"Alright, Elijah," she whispered, gripping her dagger tightly. "Lead the way. But if we die, it’s on you."
It wasn’t long before they encountered their first dungeon dweller. Hel had barely registered the faint scuffling sound from a shadowed alcove when, with a snarling growl, a goblin launched itself out of the darkness. The creature was small but vicious, its beady eyes glinting with malice as it swung a rusty, jagged blade directly at Elijah’s exposed side.
"Elijah, watch out!" Hel shouted, her hands flying up instinctively.
Without thinking, she cast a quick shielding spell, her fingers tracing a practiced pattern in the air as a shimmering barrier materialized between Elijah and the oncoming goblin. The creature’s blade struck the shield with a metallic clang, the rusty edge sliding harmlessly off the impenetrable surface of the spell. Hel’s shield absorbed the impact, sending a faint ripple through the air before dissipating.
“God damn it, Elijah! Be careful!” she snapped, her voice tight with frustration. She hadn’t even had a chance to check the area, and here he was, barreling ahead like nothing could touch him.
Elijah, to his credit, looked startled but quickly recovered. He grinned, clearly unfazed, and finally drew his own weapon—a short, unremarkable blade that he’d barely bothered to unsheath until now. He held it loosely in one hand, the other raised and glowing with a faint, pulsing light.
“Relax, Hels,” he muttered, his tone lighthearted despite the goblin in front of him. A bead of white light gathered in his palm, growing brighter and brighter until it cast a harsh glow across the dark corridor.
The goblin let out a strangled hiss, squinting as the light hit its eyes. Disoriented, it stumbled backward, clawing at its face as it tried to shield itself from the blinding glow. Elijah didn’t waste a second. With a quick, practiced movement, he stepped forward and swung his blade in a clean, decisive arc, slicing into the goblin’s neck. The creature made a garbled, choking sound as it crumpled to the ground, its greenish blood pooling across the stone floor.
Hel grimaced, feeling a faint wave of nausea. The goblin looked so pitiful in its final moments, scrabbling at its face like a child trying to ward off a nightmare. Watching it die felt… uncomfortable, somehow. Almost like putting down a wounded animal. But she knew better than to let herself feel sympathy.
These creatures were born from the dungeon’s malice, bred to be merciless killers. Even at their lowest level, they’d gladly tear apart any human they encountered. There were stories of the stronger ones—those on higher floors with sharper minds and crueler instincts—staging ambushes, plotting out attacks to pick off adventurers one by one.
She shook herself. This isn’t a child, she reminded herself, steeling her expression. It’s a monster.
Fortunately for them, this goblin had been alone and low-leveled. It had rushed at them with no plan, no sense of self-preservation—just the single-minded urge to kill the first human it saw. In the grand scheme of things, it was a pitiful threat, a minor inconvenience. But even so, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Elijah’s recklessness had nearly cost them.
While Hel was busy catching her breath, Elijah bent down, rifling through the goblin’s small, grimy hands. With a triumphant laugh, he held up a single bronze coin, slick with the creature’s blood.
“Haha! A bronze coin!” he exclaimed, brandishing it like a prized trophy. “Our first loot as a party!”
He waved the coin around in celebration, grinning from ear to ear as if he’d just struck gold. Hel could only watch, her expression a mixture of disbelief and exasperation. He was actually celebrating this? A single bronze coin, barely worth anything, pulled from the cold fingers of a goblin he’d only killed because she’d saved him from being skewered?
‘This dude is going to get us killed’, she thought, staring at him, incredulous.
“Elijah, seriously?” she said, crossing her arms and giving him a hard look. “That thing nearly took your arm off, and you’re celebrating a single coin?”
“Oh, come on, don’t be such a downer, Hels!” Elijah replied, flashing her that carefree grin of his. “It’s our first loot together! You’ve got to appreciate the little victories, right?”
She opened her mouth to argue, then closed it, sighing instead. Maybe he was right—maybe she was being too cautious, too negative. But Hel knew from her limited training and her observations at the Guild Hall that careless adventurers rarely made it far. Elijah’s casual attitude, his reckless confidence, it all struck her as dangerous. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could handle his complete lack of caution.
As if reading her thoughts, Elijah winked at her. “Don’t worry so much, Hels. We’ve got this. With your shields and my blinding spell, we’re unstoppable!”
She sighed, reluctantly letting his optimism wash over her.
‘Maybe I’m overthinking it’, she thought. They were still on the first floor of a brand-new dungeon. Nothing here was supposed to be too dangerous. And besides, Elijah’s blinding spell had worked, hadn’t it? They’d handled the goblin easily enough.
“All right,” she said finally, her tone softening a bit. “But please, just… be careful. I’d rather we didn’t have any ‘close calls’ over a bronze coin.”
“Message received,” he replied, giving her a mock salute. But she could see the glint of mischief in his eyes, and she doubted he’d learned his lesson.
As they continued down the corridor, Hel kept her senses sharp, wary of any movement in the shadows. She knew that this wouldn’t be their last encounter—if anything, it had only been a taste of what the dungeon had in store. And if Elijah’s recklessness didn’t get them both killed, maybe—just maybe—they’d make it out with more than a single bloodstained coin.
But that was a big maybe.
“Okay… lets continue. We also need to start mapping the dungeon so we can find the portal to the next floor for when we’re ready.”