The rest of the day and well into the night was spent carefully carving up the two slain shraal and preparing their remains for preservation. Every able hand in the village was involved, from seasoned hunters to curious onlookers eager to learn. The air was thick with the smell of blood and sweat, punctuated by the occasional crack of bone as the enormous creatures were dissected. Ulmenglanz had no relevant skill but much experience watching similar projects. She went from group to group, offering advice and helping where she could.
Although she didn’t eat meat, she did not mind others doing so. It was the way of life and part of nature. She’d instead have been annoyed if they’d let all the meat spoil. She even instructed them to carve out the heart of the male shraal whole since it would be a rare and expensive alchemical ingredient if they managed to preserve it in twice-distilled alcohol.
A flash of silver light right next to the heart caught her attention. She went nearer and examined the spot. The villagers made room for her but didn’t seem to notice anything themselves. The dryad leaned forward. The silver light flashed again. Right next to the heart, lodged deep into the body, she found a silver shard the size of her little finger. She pulled it out and went away to inspect her find. A curved tine with natural looking ridges and grooves running along its length, made of a silvery metal, warm to the touch. It was metal, but it didn’t cause her skin to itch. It felt like a piece of nature.
Antler. The thought flashed through her mind. The form could be part of many animal parts, but she knew, she just knew it was a piece from a silver deer antler. The holy symbol of Fliedabarr, her former god. The god that had vanished together with his last temple and the death of his druid high priest. What could it mean? She decided to keep her find secret until she had time to think about the implications.
When the young lad Rondwig appeared and shyly asked what he was supposed to do, she showed him the eggs. The leathery orbs were nearly ready to hatch. Their surfaces shimmered slightly in the dim torchlight, their inhabitants stirring now and again. She instructed him how to care for the eggs and advised him to sing for them often. They were already developed enough to listen and would recognize his voice after hatching. The most crucial part would be to be present, alone, when the shraal hatched, so they could imprint on him as their parental figure. Once imprinted, the shraal would be his to raise, and though dangerous, they would not see him as prey.
“They’ll need feeding for no more than two weeks,” she said, her voice calm and reassuring. “After that, their instincts will kick in, and they’ll start hunting for themselves. But until then, they’ll rely on you completely.”
Rondwig, with a determined nod, promised to take the beast tamer class as soon as it was offered to him. He was eager but aware of the risk. Choosing a class was a lifelong commitment and these weren’t pets, they were apex predators.
By late evening, all but a few villagers tasked with guarding the shraal remains against scavengers returned to Marshend. The village greeted the returning heroes with a great feast, at least great for the standards of the resource-strapped community and the short timeframe for preparation they had. They had even butchered a pig. The scent of roasting pork filled the air, mingling with the aroma of freshly baked bread and spiced vegetables. Laughter and music echoed across the village square as fires crackled in the cool night air.
Ulmenglanz was long past the days of being disturbed by meat-eating humans but preferred to eat somewhere a bit off to the side. She expected to make do with a basic salad, perhaps some roasted vegetables. But to her surprise, she was invited to a separate table, where an entire spread of vegetable dishes awaited her: roasted root vegetables, leafy greens tossed in herbs, and even a vegetable stew. Iron Ma’am had apparently told one of the families about her preferences, and they had gone out of their way to prepare something special.
The dryad smiled warmly, touched by the gesture. She thanked the villagers and enjoyed her meal in peace, observing the festivities from the side. She watched as the villagers danced and sang, celebrating their escape from the shraal’s wrath.
After finishing her meal, Ulmenglanz excused herself from the feast and wandered to the edge of the village to seek solitude. The village lights dimmed as she moved farther away until only the sounds of distant laughter and the soft rustling of leaves surrounded her. She found a quiet spot near a large oak. The night was cool and still, the sky above full of stars.
Here, away from the revelry, she opened her status page. After the battle with the shraal, she had earned enough experience to level up.
She had once been at level nine, so leveling back up to six did not grant her an attribute point since she still had retained her attributes from before. As he had lost both her levels and her class, she had lost most of her feats. She had retained only the three she had gained access to through her race instead of through her class. Verdant Renewal granted her the ability to take root and heal damage by absorbing nutrients from the soil, Ravaging Roots gave her the ability to inject roots into an object or enemy she touched, to destroy it from within, and the Nature Walk feat that extended her inborn dryad ability to walk through woods unhindered by natural obstacles to all kinds of natural environments.
On her return to level five, she had refrained from selecting the two feats she was entitled to. She’d decided to wait until she understood her role in the group better. Now, with a total of three unselected feats, she could reshape herself to fit the team’s needs more precisely. But what exactly was her role? She was the healer, of course, but was that all she was meant to be?
Ulmenglanz sat quietly for a long time, her mind wandering over the battles she had fought and the dangers she had faced in her already long life. She was a competent scout and tracker, especially in the wilderness, but in urban environments, she was of limited use. Her magic was powerful but specialized, more suited for healing and bolstering her allies than direct combat. Her connection to nature allowed her to see what others could not, to sense the life in the world around them.
She took her time to scroll through the long list of potential feats, reading each description carefully. Some were tempting. Feats that would allow her to manipulate the environment to hinder enemies or feats that granted her new healing options. But none of those felt quite right. As a healer, her spells would never directly harm anyone. She was a protector, not a destroyer. No feat would grant her the ability to throw fireballs or spears of ice. Her class had options to shield her allies from harm, but none that were directly offensive. Her spells, feats and magic meshed well together to fulfill her role as a healer. She just… didn’t like it.
The idea of remaining passive in the background, waiting for the others to finish fighting just to patch them up again, repelled her.
She could take feats to increase her combat abilities, but she would never be equal to a real warrior. Dryads could not wear metal armor. Well, technically, they could, but they found it extremely unpleasant. Sustained contact with refined metals caused allergic reactions in all sylvan races. Enchanted wood armor could only be created by the most powerful druids, and she knew none. Gambesons and leather armor were a good alternative on the lower levels, but going against an enemy in plate armor was suicide. Iron weapons were less likely to cause rashes as long as she didn’t touch the metal directly. Spears and bows were a common weapon among dryads for a reason.
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Ulmenglanz considered choosing feats to make her a better melee fighter anyway, but she had experienced leveling up to higher levels before. Specialization was getting ever more important to stay competitive. Skills had to synergize with feats that build up on each other.
She thought about it for a while, then concentrated on the feats that gave her abilities none of the other team members had. There she found something.
Summon Nature Spirits, from the dryad racial feat list, allowed her to summon a group of spirits of nature, manifested as tiny woodland creatures. Those spirits were known to be only of minor use since they were weak in offense, defense, and special abilities. Usually, one called for them as a distraction or as a natural decoration at a feast. To bolster their usefulness, she also chose the feat Elemental Infusion, which was a feat from another feat tree, one accessible only to healers, witches and mages. It allowed her to imbue bound or summoned entities with elemental power, making them more powerful and useful. Usually, it was intended to be used on a summoned familiar. After reading the description a few times, she was sure it would also work on nature spirits.
As her Journeyman tier feat, she chose Unyielding Conjurations, which made all creatures summoned by her much harder to hurt.
The festivities had long ended when she was finished. Silence had fallen over the village. She pulled off her boots and walked to the middle of a clearing that was high enough to be out of the swamp. Roots grew from her bare feet into the fertile soil. She relaxed in the feeling of connection to all things living. Even a few hours till sunrise would be enough to refresh her.
* * *
She woke up when she felt the first rays of sunshine. She still stood rooted to where she went to sleep. Arms outstretched to the sides, facing the lifegiving morning sun. Sometime later, life came into the village as the villagers woke up and started their morning chores.
Weylan, the shepherd turned assassin jogged around the walkways of the village. As he came to the clearing, he spotted her and changed direction to her. “Good morning Ulmenglanz, we’re meeting in the village elder's hut for breakfast and then to discuss…” He stumbled and broke off midsentence. His face turned beet red, and he hurriedly turned away.
Still basking in the glorious light, she gave him a lazy smile: “Everything alright? You wanted to say something more?”
“Where are your clothes?” He sounded a bit breathy; Ulmenglanz decided to watch out for other symptoms in case he had developed a cold.
“Clothes only interfere with the intake of sunlight. After so long underground, in the dungeon and after the overcast sky yesterday, I am still starved of sunlight.” She looked at his downturned face while he stared at something on the ground. She frowned thoughtfully: “I’m not breaking any local social taboos, am I?” The dryads at home had always welcomed the morning sun skyclad. She could not remember any of the other races complaining or being offended.
“No… not at all. I just… We wanted to discuss when we should use the dungeon token.”
She looked back up at the sun and considered. “I need at least a full day of sunlight before I can go back to the next underground dungeon. Let us set out tomorrow morning.”
“Do you want to join us at breakfast?”
“No. I will spend the day here. The fertile soil and sunlight are all I need for now. I’ll join you at dinner.”
Weylan nodded and went away quite hastily. She shook her head. Humans. She’d never quite understand them.
The rest of the morning came and went, with an astounding number of the male villagers being called away by their wives when doing chores near her clearing.
Before dinner, she got dressed again and went to join the others. They shot her some strange looks, except for Selvara who couldn’t stop talking about the dungeon they intended to visit tomorrow.
She wasn’t allowed to tell them anything about the layout, traps, or anything specific, but there was some common knowledge that she could share.
“The Smoking Menagerie of Alchemical Wonders” was a famous dungeon and had existed since long before the war against the necromancers. Its dungeon heart was called Trevisanus, and its dungeon fairy was a fairy celebrity, the high fairy Galadressa.
Trevisanus had built his dungeon near a Cathurian Academie for Alchemy. Most of the early delvers had been apprentice and master alchemists. He had acquired a lot of potions and alchemy guidebooks the delvers carried early on and had selected feats and learned skills to make use of them.
The original theme of the dungeon had just been “Beasts”, but Trevisanus had expanded it to include alchemy. How exactly that worked, Selvara wasn’t allowed to say.
The dungeon was controlled by a local delver guild that charged a steep entry fee and had a long waiting list. Golgoroth sometimes hid teleportation tokens in other dungeons and monster nests. NEMESIS also used those tokens as rewards. The dungeon was powerful enough to use instances. Parallel dimensions that enabled multiple groups to visit the dungeon at the same time without meeting. Ulmenglanz wasn’t sure about the specifics but didn’t much care as long as it worked.
She was surprised to hear Iron Ma’am wasn’t going to join them in the dungeon delve. She had important obligations in her own world and wouldn’t return for at least twenty days. Probably even 48. She did promise to organize a meeting as soon as she returned by leaving a message for Trulda at the Adventurers Guild.
On second thought, it was probably for the best. They could hardly invite her into the team since that would give her knowledge about class, race and level of all team members. Which would blow their cover. In the village, no one cared or asked about their class or race. They hadn’t even needed to use their prepared cover story. They had decided to claim she was a human druid with some exotic advantages, and Selvara would pretend to be Ulmenglanz’s familiar. Weylan’s story was unnecessarily overcomplicated, as always. He would be a thief who claimed to be a shepherd.
The rest of the evening was spent relaxing and planning.
* * *
The morning sun was barely peeking over the horizon when the group gathered in the village square. The teleportation token was set on the ground in the middle of them. The air was thick with anticipation.
With a quick nod from everyone, Weylan spoke the activation word. The air shimmered, and with a sudden rush, they were enveloped in light and sound. For a moment, everything spun—colors, sounds, and the sensation of falling.
Dungeon Token activated.
Teleport successful. You have arrived.
Dungeon Name: Smoking Menagerie of Alchemical Wonders
Dungeon Theme: Alchemically enhanced beasts
Recommended Delver Level: Levels 8 to 12
Floors: Five standard floors plus the heart room's final defense floor.
Warning: Dungeon Etiquette does not apply to floor six. Entering floor six will be seen as a direct attack at the dungeon heart and met without mercy.
The team found themselves inside a spacious room with a high ceiling, lit by glowing crystals. Behind them was a closed wooden door. On the walls to the left and right sides were comfortable benches with leather upholstery, in front of them was a closed stone portal with a red glowing gem above it. A tasteful bronze sign next to it stated: “Please wait for a green light before entering.”
Selvara flew around, taking in every detail and commenting on the quality of the furniture and room design.
The dryad looked up at the ceiling and sighed. The light in Malvorik’s dungeon could nourish plants, even as it wasn’t warm and bright enough to feel like true sunlight. This light was cold and without any life-giving properties. The air smelled slightly of sulfur and other foul alchemical ingredients, even here outside the main dungeon.