Chapter 18
After the first week, most of the adventurers were getting settled into how this dungeon was working. With the constant runs, the dungeon had accumulated between 20-30 Keeper AP a day.
Gen had finally made enough Potions of Red Taurus to let the teams do one overnight run the previous night. Today would be the day they go through while under the debuff. If the teams didn't have strong leaders in Throm Clint and Felandira, Gen would shut the dungeon down and stop them from entering. But this was their choice.
Gen had another goal for the day while Byron manned the stall. She had gained another quest from the dungeon, and it wouldn't exactly be an easy one.
You have been offered a Quest!
“Rare!”
The dungeon has many common items and materials but very few of rare quality. Supply at least 3 new rare items or materials for the dungeon.
Reward: A moderate amount of experience.
Do you accept? Yes/No
Of course, she would accept the quest. And she had an idea of what to acquire, the problem was the snobbish Jeweler in town had a monopoly on all the gems the prospectors brought in. Gen had a plan. But for that, she needed to find Jorn. It was early and she had seen him bring in a large buck yesterday so hopefully, after his evening drinking a the tavern he would be asleep at home.
The Bowyer shop wasn’t open quite this early so she knocked. A few minutes later Mitchel answered the door. “Hello Gen! What a bright surprise to see you here with the rising sun. What can I do for you?”
“I’m looking for directions.” Gen explained, “I was hoping to go out and talk to some of the prospectors that live in the mountains. You wouldn’t happen to be able to point me in the right direction, would you?”
Mitchel gave Gen a flat look before speaking. “Now Miss Gen. I understand you can handle yourself in a fight but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I sent you out without a guide.” He turned around and yelled, “Jorn! Come on down son I need you!”
A loud yawn could be heard from the stairs that gen assumed led to the living quarters above the workshop.
“What do you need me for so early old man?” Jorn called in a croaking voice, obviously tired and not quite ready to be awake. Jorn continued without waiting for a reply from his father, “Give me a few minutes and ill be down.”
True to his word after a few minutes, he came down the stairs dressed a bit hastily tucking his shirt into his pants as he descended the stairs.
“Good, you're dressed,” Mitchel commented, “I need you to guide Gen here to the prospectors' camp up the mountain. I would take her myself but I'm not as spry as I used to be.”
“Oh that won’t be necessary, I'm sure I can find my way with a bit of direction,” Gen tried to cut in. But both men seemed to not hear her.
Jorn looked the wiry older man up and down doubt clear on his face about any frailty his father may possess. He blinked and shook his head. “You are up at the crack of dawn to bend stout bows to your will… You just want to make me do it.”
“It will keep you out of trouble,” Mitchel admitted with a quiet chuckle.
Nodding Jorn turned to Gen and smiled, “Well miss Gen, I could tell you how to get there but it will be a bit of a hike out. Even if I guide you and we left now we wouldn’t be back till mid-afternoon.”
A bit shocked by the distance, “It's really that far?” Gen thought she didn't need the help but knew better than to expect she wouldn't take long navigating unfamiliar trails. She sighed, “I suppose it can’t be helped,” Gen turned to Mitchel, “Thank you, for lending me Jorn.”
***
A short time later Jorn was guiding Gen up the smaller mountain trails. “So why do you need to see the prospectors anyway? He asked as he kept his eyes scanning around in a pattern Gen hadn’t seen before.
“Well I’ve been asking around, as you know the prospectors only come to town about once every few months,” Gen sighed, “And they usually sell all their gems to the Jeweler, Ms. Coronett. But she won’t sell anything but a finished product to anyone else. So if I want some uncut gems, or anything other than perfection, then I need to get to the prospectors before they come to town and sell everything to her.”
“Dungeons need gems?” Jorn asked as he repeated his odd scan of the forest.
“Dungeons need lots of things,” Gen said vaguely. “What are you doing?”
“What are you talking about?” Jorn said as he turned 360 degrees as he walked up the path.
“That, the spinning and looking around like you can’t stop moving your head.”
Jorn paused and looked at her. “There are cougars farther up the mountain. They occasionally come down this way.”
“Cougars? I thought there were mountain lions in this area.”
“That's a common misconception. Mountain lions and cougars are the same animals. As a matter of fact, they have several names.” Jorn said as he began to turn back to the path. “They are also called panthers or pu-MAH!” he cried as a large cat slammed into his side knocking him to the ground.
Cougar strikes Jorn for 12 Damage.
Jorn is knocked prone.
“Shit!” Gen screamed as she began to cast but stopped when she couldn't get a clear shot at the cat when the two of them kept rolling around struggling. She reached to her belt and pulled a small dagger and approached the wrestling duo.
Jorn was getting clawed but managed to get his hands around the beast's neck finally holding it up and back from tearing his throat out. When he held the cat back it gave Gen her chance she drove the dagger into its side.
Cougar strikes Jorn for 15 Damage.
Gen strikes Cougar for 10 Damage.
As the dagger was pulled back out the cougar reversed its push down toward Jorn and pulled back; slipping from Jorn’s grasp it dashed away disappearing into the trees.
“What the hell was that?” Gen asked as she pulled out a potion handing it to Jorn. “It just ran away the second it got hurt?”
Jorn drank the potion, “That was a cougar or a puma as I was saying when I was so rudely interrupted. They are also very cowardly. We can't get rid of them either because they run at the first sign of serious injury. They won’t attack any group larger than four, and only attack by surprise so you need to keep checking for them."
"And I distracted you…" Gen admitted with chagrin.
Jorn waved her down. "It's alright, I should have warned you earlier. I forgot you are still new to the area."
Still embarrassed by her mistake, Gen began to check her surroundings, mimicking Jorn’s movements from earlier.
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"Don't forget to look up as well," Jorn commented as he watched her and the surroundings.
Only delayed a little by the brief attack they arrived at a small camp nestled at the base of a small rocky outcropping. A small wooden lean-to was built up against the biggest boulder and a cookfire was set up beside the small home.
"Hello! It's Jorn and a friend!" He called to the seemingly empty building.
"Jorn?" Called a young Dwarf that poked his head out of the door. "Hows ye doin! Youse havn' been up aroun here in dang near-a year! I just finishn’ me up a batch o' shine tha udder day an-"
The young man was speaking a mile a minute but froze up as he noticed Gen. She was having a bit of trouble keeping up with the avalanche of words; not just due to the speed, but because the accent was thick. It was similar to the classic Dwarven brogue she had heard before but with a twang that was rustic and partially slurred in an unfamiliar fashion.
"Lonnie! Hi, yeah it has been a while, my father will be happy to hear you have more of your custom brew. Is Clem around? I have a friend who wants to meet him."
Lonnie side-eyed Gen but nodded to Jorn as he turned and scampered back into the house.
"Lonnie can be a bit shy around new people." Jorn whispered to Gen, "But he's a nice kid once he warms up to you."
A short while later two other Dwarves stepped out. One was old and grey. Perhaps one of the oldest Gen had ever seen. His beard was so long it would easily brush the dirt off the tops of his shoes as he walked; using a pick axe as a cane to get around.
The other was middle-aged, stocky, with sharp blue eyes that seemed to analyze everything his gaze fell upon. He spoke first with a deep calm tone. "Hows ye doin' Jorn?"
"Clem, I'm well. And you?"
"We been havn' a spot o' trouble lately. But taint nothin’ we couldn' handle. Who's youse friend?" Clem asked as he looked at Gen.
"This is Gen, she is the Dungeon Keeper that answered the Mayor's prayers. She came to set up a new dungeon outside of town."
Gen stepped forward, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Clem. And you as well Mr…?" Gen looked at the older Dwarf next to Clem.
"I bee’n called Ol' Ned dere Missy Gen." The elderly Dwarf smiled and nodded to her. “But fer youse, I wishing I can bee’n Young Ned.”
Gen didn’t quite get what he meant so she deferred to smiling and said “It's a pleasure to meet you as well Ned.”
Old Ned broke into a wide grin as Jorn let out a slightly audible sigh. But before the group could get too distracted in pleasantries Clem spoke up.
“An whats-it that's bringn’ the two o’ youse up this-a way?”
“Ah, yes,” Gen answered, “I have been trying to buy gemstones from the Jeweler in town, but she won't sell anything raw, uncut, or without a setting. Since you seem to be the best source I figured I would come out and see if you had anything for sale. Or if you would set aside some for me on your next trip into town.”
“Oh aye, she do be buyin’ all our gems when we nip off to town never mindin’ quality or type.” Clem stroked his beard, “Wha gems do ye be havn’ a keen eye for?”
Thankfully Clem spoke a bit slower than the excitable Lonnie, and was slightly more refined than Old Ned; Gen could parse his speech and think at the same time. “Well I only need a few, but if I could get one of each type of gem that is found around here I would appreciate it.”
“Oy, lots o’ differen’ gems be foun aroun tha mount.” Old Ned cut in. “Be-en’ a pretty piece for all dem.”
“Yes,” Clem stated, “One o’ each would be costly. We can usually find near ten differen’ gems aroun tha mount. Do size be matterin’ to ye?”
“No, I don't need anything large, but as long as they are fairly clear I would appreciate it.”
"Ah, well I be hav'n four like that." Clem said as he pulled out a small pouch. "Tiger-eye, Amethyst, Black opal, an a Ruby. Now tha Tiger-eye be common, an ruby be the rarest. Tha udder two fallin' between em."
Clem held them in his hand for Gen to inspect. Most were all no bigger than a pea and rough. The ruby was about the size of a grain of rice. Most jewelers wouldn't even bother with a ruby of that size unless they had many of them.
"These look perfect for me. How much for all of them?"
Clem smiled, "Well youse be-en Jorn’s friend I can let them go for a total of 5 Crowns. That's 3 fer tha ruby, 4 silvers each fer tha amethyst an opal. An 2 silvers fer the tiger-eye.
Gen didn't know much about gems but hoped Jorn had at least a cursory knowledge from being friends with these gentlemen. She watched Jorn out of the corner of her eye, he didn't react to the prices at all… which told her nothing.
"Hrmmm," Gen thought aloud. "Well, perhaps I could do some negotiation?"
"HA! Hagglin' ?!" Ned exclaimed. "Sharp Missy Gen."
At these words, Clem gave his older companion a stern look. "Quiet youse, this be-en my job."
"Aye an youses doin' et woderful." Ned cackled with e grin on his face.
Jorn smirked at the banter. But didn't interrupt the bickering dwarves.
Gen cut in before they could get going too much, “I was thinking, 10 crowns up front. I get these and you can get me 6 more. Each one different variety?”
“Most o' tha others be common but one more be rare…” Clem thought for a moment, “Aye tha be-en fair enough.” Clem smiled as the two completed the trade. “I’ll bring tha rest o tha gems aroun next time we go into town.”
After the transaction, Clem turned to Jorn. “Now youse. I suppose youse be wantn’ some o Lonnie’s shine fer youse Da?”
“If you have some ready yes.” Jorn pulled out a few coins and passed them to Clem.
“Lonnie!” Called Clem “Bring out a keg for Jorn!”
Shortly after the call, Lonnie came back out carrying a small wooden keg under one arm handed it off to Jorn with a nod and skedaddled back to the cabin.
“Thanks, Lonnie!” Jorn called after the retreating young dwarf.
A feint “Welcome,” could be heard coming from inside the small home.
“Harumph,” Clem harrumphed, “Least he not be fergettn’ his manners.”
* * *
Later that early evening Lonnie was sitting outback of the cabin he shared with his uncles, Ned and Clem. They had gone off to search for more gems for Jen’s order before it got too dark. They weren’t really his unkles but they introduced him to others as “Me nephew Lonnie,” and they had raised him as their own when they found Lonnie wandering the woods. He was barely a boy and the sole survivor of a cougar attack that ended the lives of his small clan that had decided to settle in these mountains.
In some ways it was nice, he never had to explain to people that his parents were dead. It avoided so many awkward conversations. Lonnie hated talking to people. Some like Jorn were alright but he enjoyed the quiet of the mountain and the solitude of brewing.
Clem and Ned were teaching him the subtle art of prospecting. The way to look at the stones of the mountain, where the strata of different types of the earth came together created the right conditions of heat, pressure, and moisture to form gems and where to look for veins of precious metals.
Ned, who loved his spirits, helped him start brewing. It turned out he had a bit of a knack for it, and it was brewing that he had his mind on for the evening. He had found a few new herbs and some interesting mushrooms that he was planning to try in his next experimental batch. The experiments were usually failures, but he had a good feeling about this particular combination. The mushroom was orange and white and had an unusual texture almost like that of cooked chicken. The flavor was meaty and a feint lemony tartness that he thought would pair well with the wild dill he found. The only question is would it blend well into a beer or mead?
As he contemplated this he heard footsteps approaching from the woods. He looked up in the fading light to see three of the local shepherd lads approaching him. Lonnie knew them and they came around every now and then to try and get some beer from him, or pull him into a scheme.
Kevin was the de facto leader; tall and broad-shouldered. He was carrying his long shepherd's staff. As Lonnie looked the group over he saw they all had their staves. It wasn’t too unusual as they would need them for protection out in the woods but they had a look about them that they meant business.
“Lonnie,” Kevin greeted him with a nod, “How ya doing?”
“Good,”
“Come on ask him Kev.” The shortest shepherd, Mark said.
“He's not gonna do it, lets's just go before it's too dark.” The last boy, Shemp was the roundest of the trio.
“Ask me what?” Lonnie addressed Kevin with a curious eye.
“You heard about the new dungeon in the woods? The one the keeper came to grow?”
Lonnie nodded not sure where this conversation was going.
“Well, we need a fourth man on our team. You want to come?”
“I though’ it wasn’ open…”
“See he’s not going to come.” Shemp reiterated. “Let's go he's too scared.”
“I’m na scared!” Lonnie protested affronted at Shemp's claim. “I got me Pa’s axes. When ya goin’ in?”
“Well you’re right it's not open yet, but we can go in tonight when no one else is in there. I've seen all the coins and loot the adventurer's guild is bringing out.” Kevin was excited at the idea. “And only one of them ever got hurt, and he was just a little gnome.”
“Alright, let me grab a thing or two,” Lonnie said as he moved into the cabin and grabbed his axes, and put on a leather and fur jerkin. Last he hesitated in front of the door to the pantry. Before he lost his nerve Lonnie grabbed the single glass vial from the back of the pantry Clem kept there for emergencies.
Fur Jerkin Rank 1: Reduces slashing and piercing damage by 10. Reduces Bludgeoning damage by 5
Heirloom Axes Rank 1: Damage 8-17. When wielded as a pair attack speed and damage increase by 5%
Healing Potion Rank 1: Heals 30 HP over 5 seconds.
Slipping the potion into his pocket and belting on the axes Lonnie strode from the cabin joining his first adventuring party.