Emrys panicked. He flailed his arms and gasped, inhaling moss and water. Dirt and algae stung his eyes. The weight of his robes was dragging him down quickly, but he was able to orient himself by the light.

He had to get back up to air. Already, his lungs were bursting.

Emrys tilted his face up to the ceiling, turned his palms downward, and pushed fire out of his hands. The force propelled him up through the water with enough force that when he came crashing back down to earth, he punched a second hole into the earth. The impact punched out whatever air he had left in his lungs. Emrys repeated the propulsion spell more gingerly and clambered back onto semi-solid ground, hacking and wheezing.

Merv slapped him on the back good naturedly. “Hey man, welcome back to the party. Did you have a good swim?” He laughed.

Emrys spat a glob of wet algae. He looked around wildly. “Where is it?” He asked. “What’s next?”

“Don’t worry man, we got it. You fired off on it and let loose all those bugs, but Jefferson focused on the stems, and as soon as that was KO’d, the bugs wiped.” The healer waved him over. “Come on, loot chests are about to drop.”

Emrys blasted a heat wave around his body and through his clothes. He was still filthy, but it was better than soaking. The effort of the spell sent a twinge through his body. He was running dangerously low on mana.

Bright white light flashed through the room, and when it cleared there were three chests. Two were bright silver, and the third was bronze.

“Aww man, I keep getting the loser chest,” said Merv.

Jefferson laughed. “That’s because you don’t do anything. See, even Emrys got a better chest than you did.”

Emrys forced a smile. This was the first dungeon he had done with these two adventurers, and he had already decided it would be the last. The rogue at least was a competent fighter, and a healer was always useful to have in a party, but their attitudes were beyond grating. Not to mention that the healer’s hesitation made him unreliable.

He touched the silver chest that was embossed with a flame symbol, and the lid popped open to reveal a ring. It was a wide gold band with a coil of blue and green going through the center. As soon as he touched it, Emrys sensed that wearing the ring would enhance both water and earth spells. Objectively a powerful item, as most rings were only capable of enhancing one element, but it was useless to him.

Elder Winter’s advice echoed in his mind, that he should take advantage of the Arcanist class and learn more than just fire spells. With the ring’s assistance, perhaps he could try again with water and earth. He had to admit, there was a certain appeal to being able to breathe underwater, or to rip the roots right out from under a plant monster.

The ring fit easily around his index finger, not that that was any surprise. Dungeon gifts were always perfectly tailored to those who earned them. That was what made them so enticing to adventurers, regardless of the danger. One successful dungeon run could provide a year’s wages.

The dungeon never gave as much as it took, but the potential for riches had a way of blinding people to what they gave up: their mana, their energy, their very life.

“Hell. Yes!” Jefferson held up a clear vial of thick purple liquid. “My daggers have been missing a good poison! A little bit of this, and the next boss won’t last five minutes. What did you get, Merv?”

“Just another health potion.” The healer held up a glass vial stopped with a cork. The liquid within was deep red with shimmering gold swirls.

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Emrys recognized the New Life potion. For any one of his friends and family, that potion could bring them from the brink of death to full health in a moment. It was an invaluable tonic that could only be brewed by alchemists on the level of the royal potions masters, yet to an immortal adventurer, such a marvel was “just another health potion.”

He shook his head. He had long ago sworn to clear every dungeon, and often the safest way to do so was with the help of immortals seeking adventure.

Emrys cleared his throat. “Are you guys ready for the next floor?”

Jefferson and Merv shared a glance.

“We were thinking about calling it a night,” said the rogue.

“It’s getting pretty late.” The healer, at least, had the grace to look abashed.

Emrys slowly nodded. “We can make camp here for a while,” he said, his voice measured and even. “But if we rest for too long, that creature will respawn.”

It was in the nature of dungeons to create and recreate the monsters that defended it’s halls. Defeat was only ever temporary, until someone could reach the dungeon core and rip out the mana roots within.

Jefferson frowned. “We’re not sleeping here. Merv and I are going back to our world for the night. We’ll be back at the same time tomorrow.”

“There’s only one floor left.” Emrys struggled to keep his voice from sounding too pleading. “We could run through it quickly.”

Merv vanished. As always when an immortal left this plane, there was no sound nor sight nor any indication that they had gone. They were simply there one moment and not there the next.

Desperation seeped into his voice. “I can’t finish this dungeon without you. I’ll die. I can’t stay here, by the time you get back the boss will return and destroy me.”

“Sorry, man, I just don’t have time to finish it out right now. Besides, Merv is already gone. We don’t want to try this without a healer, do we?” The rogue hesitated, then flipped a gold coin through the air. Emrys caught it. “Maybe this can help you. See you on the other side.” The rogue vanished.

Emrys swore. He turned the gold coin over in his hand. It was a thick piece of metal embossed with a shield and two crossed swords. He closed his eyes and focused his intention on the object until he could sense its purpose.

The coin appeared in his mind’s eye, enlarged so he could make out every detail of the design. He had seen the image once before, engraved onto an adventurer’s armor. It was the symbol of [Protection goddess/saint?]. The coin was enchanted to deflect one fatal blow per 24 hour period. It was a valuable tool, particularly since it had the ability to recharge.

He wanted to throw it into the depths of the bog. He’d completed dungeons on his own before, but never of this difficulty and always an element that was weak to fire. This water-logged earth dungeon had been giving him trouble every step of the way, and now he wouldn’t have the rogue to pick up the slack or the healer to patch him up. He was as good as dead, and for what?

The two immortals had approached him earlier that day, asking him to join their party. Their third member had stood them up, and they only had one day to clear the dungeon. Emrys typically refused to work with immortals he wasn’t familiar with, but they had offered full healing and a hundred gold. Add that this was a dungeon he wouldn’t have been able to do on his own, and he had agreed. He had foolishly, stupidly agreed.

The loyalty he instinctively felt towards a group had not been reciprocated, and it never would be. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. With hardly any hesitation, they had left him behind. What he had to remember about immortals was that they didn’t value human life. They could return from death themselves, though it temporarily weakened them, and he had witnessed immortals who cared more about that temporary weakness than about the permanent death of a local villager.

Jefferson’s parting gift only showed that some of them, at least, had some small excuse for a conscience.

His fingers tightened around the coin until his knuckles turned white. “If I make it out of here alive,” he vowed, “I will never party with another immortal.” A low rumble shuddered through the dungeon as if in response.

The arcanist pocketed the gold. Jefferson and Merv were gone. The boss would return long before they did. Waiting was not an option. The only way he could escape the dungeon was to complete the final floor on his own. Without the immortals watching, he could make use of the dungeon secrets to speed through the first three rooms. The boss would be more challenging, and if the Flytrap was any indication he would likely end up dead… But he couldn’t worry about that yet.

Emrys took a deep breath and sat down, cross legged in the lotus position. Just because he couldn’t wait all night didn’t mean he couldn’t wait at all. A few hours of meditation would replenish his mana. If he was going to do this suicide run, he was going to do it as well prepared as possible.