This dungeon was boringly painful, a general consensus among the adventurers. The hellish, recurrent landscape paired with having only witnessed two creatures that fled the scene without putting up a fight makes for a dull combination. This wasn't even accounting for the seemingly corrosive ash and smoke constantly chipping away at their equipment's durability. The team clung to the small hope that the guild would reimburse them for their troubles, banishing the harsh reality to a corner of their minds.
Taking more swigs of water, the team walked towards the door, blurring in and out of focus as bundles of hot air drifted towards the ceiling. Tunnel vision set in. Squinting eyes locked upon the exit, their eyeballs sapped of all lubricant from the heat. Their eyelids shut and opened rapidly, briefly relieving the eyeballs from the boiling atmosphere.
Trudging at a steady pace, the door loomed closer and closer with each step. Their eyes no longer scanned the surroundings for signs of an ambush, knowing full well that the residents were too skittish to carry out any sort of confrontation willingly.
Reaching the doorknob, the leader wrapped his bare hand around the handle and gently eased it open. Energy conservation was key, all useless motions were scrapped off, leaving only efficiency in every sense of the word.
The burst of cold air wiped away the fog surrounding their brains that had impeded their thoughts, removing their dazed state. More awake, the adventurers sprinted the final leg, eagerly leaping into the tunnel before swiftly collapsing on the ground. The stone surface extracted the heat swirling within their bodies, replacing it with a refreshing coolness. Another snack, another rest before heading out. The cycle continued.
Opening the next door with renewed strength, the tank hand-signalled their rogue to identify the entrance to the upcoming room having nigh lost his voice. His cracked lips pressed firmly shut in a desperate bid to retain moisture within his mouth and throat with little success, resulting in a massive build-up of steam constantly pressing against the roof of his oral cavity.
The leader gazed longingly at the second glass bottle tied next to the first, half empty with enough for two or so mouthfuls. A minor skirmish broke out in his head, logic and reasoning versus emotion. His primal needs won out.
Sighing in defeat, he raised the glass to his lips and eased back the stopper, letting a small trickle dribble down his throat, lubricating and cooling the flesh. Sighing contently, he placed the significantly lighter container back on his utility belt. Twisting his head around, he gazed at the pitiful faces of his comrades, "Into formation," he croaked. Nodding heavily, the adventurers dragged themselves into line, eyes scanning the perimeter once more.
An hour or so passed. Worry began to gnaw at his mind, "Did the rogue encounter an enemy and perish?" Another hour ticked by. Hearing mild cheering from his teammates, he looked in the direction they were pointing at.
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A lone man emerged from the black smoke, waving back.
Stopping a couple paces from the leader, he grinned cheekily and looked around conspiratorially as if about to share juicy gossip. "So it turns out that you were supposed to find a key on this level but the lock mechanism was so primitive that I picked it," he pretend-whispered. Smiling slightly, the adventurers began their journey once more.
Time lost all meaning. Their world was filled with ashes, smoke and burnt trees, never changing. One step and another. The Sun didn't shine and didn't guide their way to safety, in its place were weak substitutes, orange embers that flickered uncertainly, casting an orange glow upon all in its presence. Five steps. Six steps. The world was silent, disturbed only by the faint crunch of ashes beneath their feet, the tinkering of equipment and the soft pants flowing from their lips. Ten steps. A faraway, tightly compact line of burnt logs was noticed from the corner of their eyes. An illusion, they thought. They paid it no heed.
The black smoke that had blanketed the barren landscape began holding traces of grey as if suffering from old age. Fifteen steps. With each stride, their feet no longer found purchase upon the sand but sank into a gel, mucus-like substance. They were so used to the repetitive sound of crunching, so accustomed to the feel of countless, minuscule particles grinding on the soles of their boots that their brains unconsciously substituted reality for familiarity. The adventurers carried on, each step accompanied by a laborious pant. Another step.
Splat.
Broken from their stupor, the team looked down at the rogue's feet. Trembling, the warrior lifted his boots out of the rippling, clear substance, carrying off beads of transparent pearls. The adventurers left their posts and stepped gingerly towards the river, spreading out in a thin line along the bank. They pried off their gloves and knelt beside the water, mud seeped into their pants and armoured legging. Cupping their hands together, they dipped them into the lukewarm liquid. Unbelieving, they raised their hands back up close to their eyes, watching transfixed, as the water flowed through the cracks between their fingers and fell back into the river. Their revelry broke.
A croaky cheer rippled through the adventurers, followed by coughs and wheezing. Not caring for their equipment, the team dunked their heads into the water, mouths open, sucking in as much of the vital fluid as possible. They drank and drank to their hearts' content. Their mind cleared. Once their stomachs were round and stuffed with water, the team unscrewed the caps and refilled their containers.
With the curse of dehydration lifted, the adventurers glared at their scout, "Why didn't you tell us there was a water source?" The rogue fidgeted with his armour, casting his gaze down at his feet, "I may have triggered [Shadow Jump] too many times and bypassed the river completely. Sorry..." Sighing in defeat, the leader waved aside the apology and turned to his team, "We're swimming across! Full armour and weapons at the ready! I want no more surprises on this trip!" Nodding grimly, they reformed up and waded into the river. Their equipment hissed as they came in contact with the water, steam billowing. To their surprise, their boots touched the bottom with the water reaching only chest height.
Fording the river, they shook the liquid out of their gear and continued on their quest. Reaching a wooden, crumbly barrier blocking their path, the tank wound back his metal boot and struck the palisade, sending ashes and wood shards flying into the air. The charred wood cracked and splintered, toppling over to form a makeshift ramp. He flashed a triumphant grin before leaping over the wreckage, gesturing for his team to follow.