Tynesday, 21st of Febrinna, 5662 AE, 468th Year of the 5th Era
Charles and Hunt had spent the next hour or so conversing with each other in the branchmaster’s office as Hunt had many things to explain to Charles.
“It is a shame that this rank is the highest I am capable of procuring for you, Charles, despite the fact I know for myself that your capabilities far exceed it.” Hunt said with a slightly disappointed tone as he was drinking his tea “But unfortunately that is the limit of what I as a branchmaster of a district-level guildhouse am capable of.”
“Oh nevermind that, Sir Hunt.” Charles waived away Hunt’s concern as he laughed it off in a friendly manner “I realise that there is far more to being an adventurer than just a glorified mercenary with some skill at arms and to even make it to this rank, I already feel uneasy enough that it feels like blatant nepotism. I haven’t even personally been to a real dungeon before.”
“Ah, yes… Now that you mention it, besides the rank itself, I’ll have to explain the basic rules, obligations, as well as reward perks of an adventurer within the kingdom. And for that I think this will help you to explain the things that I wouldn’t be able to explain in exhaustive detail.” Hunt had then handed Charles a small booklet titled ‘Adventurer’s Guide: as published by the Royal Association of Adventurers in Archior’. After skimming through it, it was clear to Charles that it contained much needed information about the workings of the guild and the duties of an adventurer, something that Alfred couldn’t explain in too great a detail given his own long personal retirement from adventuring. “Unless the Lord-Count Royal has given you a detailed look into the workings of the guild?”
“Unfortunately not, sir.” Charles shook his head “Besides perhaps some cursory glances to the workings of the adventurer’s guild in general and some lessons on dungeons, Lord Alfred hasn’t really given me much more than that in terms of general education. He mostly chalks it up to the fact that he’s been long retired from adventuring and that he hasn’t been too involved with the guild since he stepped down as guildmaster so on and so forth.”
Hunt merely gave an exasperated smile and shook his head as he heard that Alfred hadn’t really been all that specific with his lessons regarding guild matters. “Alright, well, technically-speaking though some of the hierarchy within the guild had been restructured since the Lord-Count Royal’s tenure as Guildmaster, the basic principles and rules regarding adventuring has mostly remained unchanged since that time. Heck, I’d even go so far as to say things have remained mostly consistent since the official reforming of the adventurer’s guild by His Majesty Emperor John the Great nearly a century ago. Do you at least have a good grasp on what your new adventurer rank entails?”
“Besides the fact that I know that the rank of steel is made of only a single tier and during Alfred’s time, steel-ranked adventurers were the first tier of ‘officer’-ranked adventurers. If I'm not mistaken, many dungeons require an adventurer at least of that rank in a party of at least three other adventurers to be given access though I don't know much more than that.”
“The gist of it is the same. All these classifications were put in place after years of trial and error and research by the guild and all of its previous institutional predecessors. There’s nothing stopping a copper-rank recruit adventurer from delving into a dungeon on his lonesome save for these rules which we try our damnedest to enforce if for no other reason than to keep people from facing stupid deaths. Speaking of which, you do at least know of the threat-levels our guild has assigned towards dungeons, right?”
“I believe so. It's a colour-based system, if I recall correctly, right? Green, blue, yellow, orange, red, and black.”
“Aye, correct. There are also grey dungeons which are basically inactive but they're useful for gathering resources. So back to our own beloved town of Ashfell.” Hunt had rolled out a detailed map of the lands surrounding Ashtown and marked close to the city were two ‘manarealms’, one coloured green and another yellow. Hunt then began explaining the layout and composition of the two dungeons under the district branch’s jurisdiction of management. “As I had said before, our city manages two manarealms which we maintain to collect resources from the manabeasts inside. The green dungeon is a smaller one whose entire space is only as big as several acres but it’s several layers deep where the beasts get stronger the deeper you go until you reach the final level where the beastlord resides.”
“What're the types of manabeast that reside in the green dungeon and what resources could possibly be collected from it?” Charles inquired
“Spider beasts, Charles. The green dungeon - also known as the ‘Nightweaver’s Rest’ is a cave-like dungeon made up of four underground maze-like levels. Its dungeon’s beastlord respawns itself every month or so after its slain. Though, even with its beastlord slain, the spider beasts of the dungeon do not disperse completely and after a few centuries under our care, we have managed to set up some semi-permanent spider-farms within the dungeon guarded regularly by adventurers in training and some of our town’s guards where we would harvest and collect the spider’s webs and threads to supply our town’s textile industry and export the cloth. It’s unorthodox, but I’d reckon our spidersilk is just as good as any of the fancy silk produced by the Anthroians and Easterners. ”
Charles could feel the hairs of his body stand on edge as he could only imagine such a place crawling with spider beasts of varying sizes. He was never particularly scared of arachnids per-se but to imagine such beasts crawling around the walls of caves in sizes greater than any of the spiders on earth, Charles couldn’t help but feel uneasy at the whole prospect. However, credit where credit’s due, Charles respected the ingenuity of the people of Orbis to be able to exploit such dungeons to their own benefit like that, even creating an industry out of it.
“While all of that is undoubtedly intriguing, I don’t think the threat of millions of spider-beasts would be something as trivial as to be deemed a ‘green’ dungeon, Sir Hunt.” Charles voiced his concerns towards the guild’s classification and grading process of potential dangers.
“Oh, don’t worry Charles. Most of the spiders are barely harmful towards but the youngest of children and the most common variant within the dungeon is content to stay out of people’s way most of the time and isn’t bigger than the size of one’s palm. Sure, they might pose some level of danger in great numbers, but pound-for-pound, they aren’t even as dangerous as the weaker beastwolves I’m sure you could defeat with your eyes closed and one arm tied behind your back.” Hunt said reassuringly “The more dangerous and larger variants are located on the deeper levels of the dungeon which the guild has restricted access to somewhat, but even the beastlord itself is nothing comparable to the werewolves. Our expeditionary forces would be far more than enough to wipe the dungeon five-times over were it not for the lucrative trade and resources that we’d gain from it as well as an apt training ground for the newer copper-rank recruits.”
Charles nodded his head in understanding towards Hunt’s explanation but now his attentions were focused on the other dungeon that was managed by the guild of Ashfall, and that being the yellow dungeon located to the west of town close to the woodlands.
“While my concerns of the green dungeon have been greatly alleviated, there remains this yellow dungeon here. It’s two levels of magnitude more dangerous than ‘Nightweaver’s Rest’ and that is a concern to me as it is located so close to civilisation. A dungeon break there could have disastrous consequences.” Charles said as he tapped the location of the dungeon on the map sprawled out on the table in front of him
“Your words ring true, Charles.” Hunt nodded “That particular dungeon is known as ‘The Devil’s Playground’ among our adventurers.”
“Well that doesn’t sound bloody assuring.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“Indeed. It is the manarealm that requires more intensive culling at regular intervals. Its size is about that of a small forest with its edges surrounded by a violent mana-storm. We don’t have a permanent presence within the dungeon itself but outside of the portal of the manarealm itself, fortress-like battlements have been constructed. The fort has been maintained going back to the time before Feldonia’s unification.”
“That still doesn’t explain its ominous name all that much. What are the manabeasts that we have to deal with within that particular dungeon? You said it’s a forest of sorts so I’m guessing it’s some type of animal beast. Bears or wolves?”
Hunt could only give out a bitter smile as he shook his head and gave an answer that sent a chill down Charles’ spine. “...The undead.”
Charles closed his eyes as he winced before he jokingly picked his ear and chuckled. “Ahahaha! I must be hearing things wrong, Sir, forgive me. I thought you said ‘the undead’ but that can’t be, right?”
Charles didn’t know what he was expecting, either Hunt would play along and laugh with him or he’d tell him that he was merely joking. But despite Charles’ hopes, Hunt’s expression remained serious and severe with only an apologetic smile that could be seen plastered upon his face. This only caused Charles’s expression to become sunken as he held his palm to his forehead. Back on Earth, there were many stories and mythologies regarding that of these otherworldly types of monsters. The profanity of the undead, from the draugr of the old Norse sagas, the vampire of Romanian lands, the jiangshi of the East, all the way to modern media of zombies and skeletal death knights. With all the werewolves, beasts, and whatnot running around, this was at least to be expected. Charles began to think if he himself could be considered undead considering he died and was resurrected in a more-or-less immortal body, at least on Earth.
“Where do these undead originate from? I find it hard to believe that there would be so many dead bodies to be profaned by a dungeon so as to prove to be a regular occurrence that has to be culled. And with that being the case, would it not be better to commit the corpses to the pyre to prevent their resurrection?” Charles scratched his head as he asked something that had been bothering him for a while.
“Ah, perhaps I should have worded it better.” Hunt said as he nodded “When I say ‘undead’, while it is true that the creatures found in the dungeon are indeed ghastly and are physically rotten and decaying corpses, they can not be called ‘true’ undead for they are not the corpses or remains of any actual living being - at least not for the most part.”
“What do you mean?” Charles raised his eyebrow in confusion
“Most of these undead are spawned that way within the confines of the dungeon itself, meaning they are the way they are from the start originating within the dungeon. In fact all manabeasts and creatures of the dungeons are like that. Many theories have been put forward how these dungeons are capable of ‘producing’ such creatures - the most prevailing one being the condensed mana being able to form life - though one could argue that no true ‘intelligent life’ can be created, it can not be denied that the manarealms are able to form sentient life.”
“Going back to the existence of this very manarealm, have there been no steps taken by the Rulers of Feldonia to extinguish such a liability towards the peace of the realm? Has there ever been a serious dungeon break occurrence from it?”
“Well, why do you think this town is called Ashfell to begin with? Nightweaver’s Rest has been a feature of the land ever since the time of the Augustan Imperium, but Fort Oswald - the fort guarding the manarealm’s portal - was only built during the reign of Oswald Osgiling, the last independent King of Osgifia. The fort was ordered to be built because of the catastrophe that happened during a dungeon break a decade prior. The portal had suddenly appeared where none lay before and out of it emerged a dread army of thousands of infernal undead creatures. Revenant ghouls with rotting flesh, skeletal soldiers and knights, and even powerful lich spell-casters had all emerged and wreaked havoc across Osgifia led by Askeric the ‘Lich-King of the Ashen-Skies’ named as such for the skies were blackened with ash as the dead destroyed, rampaged, and burnt all in their path. The fighting lasted for several years before King Oswald and his bannermen managed to push back the army of the dead to the portal and immediately they commenced a full-scale raid upon the portal and after a fierce battle within the dungeon, Askeric had been slain personally by King Oswald and his armies were dispersed. Unfortunately, however, the dungeon itself showed no signs of being torn apart from the inside after the slaying of the lich-king, therefore it was concluded that the dungeon proved permanent and after a few years, undead began spawning again within it. Thus, a fort was constructed to prepare for any eventual future dungeon-breaks.”
“Well, were there any future dungeon breaks?”
“Praise be to God, no there weren’t. Soon after the unification of Feldonia, King Adalbert the Great had ordered for the Adventurer’s Guild of the time who had a headquarters close to the dungeon to be strengthened and properly funded and soon enough a larger town started to grow around it until it became this blessed city eventually. I believe I haven’t said it yet to you, Charles, but welcome to Ashfall!”
“I feel very welcomed, indeed. But still, it pains me to hear that the city has to deal with such a situation where resources are having to be spent dealing with a problem that won’t go away like that.”
“Oh it’s not too big of a problem, Sir Charles. We’ve learnt to deal with the situation in our own way. So long as we keep a scheduled monthly-raid and an annual blessing inside the dungeon headed by the Church, the threat level of the dungeon is incredibly reduced. While each period a lich does appear as the dungeonlord, none have ever even come close to reaching the existential threat of the King of the Ashen-Skies. Hence why the dungeon is now classified as yellow, not too safe that you can basically ignore it, but with the maintenance of the guild, not a threat at all to the region of Talltree, let alone the Kingdom.”
“Well, that alleviated my worries, Sir Hunt. But besides keeping the safety of the realm in good form, does the guild even get anything from the dungeon like it does with the spider cave?”
“Oh, the dungeon is surprisingly very profitable indeed.” Hunt chuckled
“How so?”
“Well, for starters, remember how the manarealm spawns its own monsters and the likes? And among them I said included revenant ghouls, skeletal soldiers, and death knights?”
“Yes… go on?”
“Well, those monsters were both armed and armored with very decent protection and weapons-arms. All of it spawned with the monsters originally by the dungeon. Though most of it is perhaps only comparable to low and medium-quality iron equipment, it isn’t too rare to find higher-quality steel items among them. Even with the damaged armors and equipment, at worst, they could be smelted down to molded by our smiths into other more useful items. And once in a blue-moon, you’d find elite death-knights with even more valuable items of equipment that could be compared to the works of even our most elite smithies and craftsman. ‘But as for you, ye thought evil against me; but God meant it unto good, to bring to pass, as it is this day, to save much people alive.’”
Charles laughed in response as he nodded his head once more at the resourcefulness of the peoples of this world. It was only then that Emma - who had been listening all along to the conversation - chimed in to give her thoughts.
“Speaking of which, dear, in a few days, this year’s cleansing of Fort Oswald’s Dungeon will be taking place at the latest two days from now. I’ve been informed that the Church had already sent a party of priests led by His Eminence the Bishop of Talltree and that they arrived not long ago.” As Emma said that, it finally clicked in my brain as to the carriage I saw earlier bearing the Church’s Crest. As I finally gathered the reasoning to explain that, Emma smiled as she continued, “As is customary for the guild to provide a party of adventurers as armed escort for the church within the Fort Oswald’s dungeon, what do you say we assign Sir Charles as one of the adventurers onto the mission? I believe it would be apt as the first official mission that Charles would be undertaking as an official adventurer of Feldonia. What do you two say?”
Before Charles answered, he gave a look towards Hunt who looked like he was seriously considering the idea as he scratched his chin. It wasn’t long before he nodded to his wife’s suggestion and turned to Charles for his own personal opinion.
“What my wife says is true, Sir Charles. As a steel-ranked adventurer, there is indeed a threshold for a minimum amount of quests you’re required to do to maintain your rank and this is a very prestigious quest at that, with rewards both from the guild as well as the church. I personally think you should take up this opportunity!”
With Hunt’s excited approval and his own excitement and curiosity to enter an actual dungeon within this world, it didn’t take Charles long before he came to a conclusion within his thoughts and gave an answer.
“You’ve convinced me, Hunt.” Charles nodded as he gave a grin “Let’s bash some literal skulls, eh?”
And with that the two men shook hands as Emma immediately got up from her seat to settle the proper documents for the quest Charles had accepted to do as well as the fact that she had to prepare the rewards Charles earned in his previous expedition with her husband at Anteron. Charles himself had to make preparations as he didn’t expect to be partaking in a mission as an official adventurer so soon, but regardless of that, he was excited. A new adventure was dawning upon him and he was eager to participate.