"Ugh, bastard ruined my coat," Katherine exhaled, pulling off her torn up camo jacket with a sigh.

"Wow," I said. "Kat. You're stunning. How did I not realize this?"

Cinder choked from where she was standing. Vee smirked. Io dug out a pack of interdimensional candies called “Dora’s Tongue-Terraforming twisters.”

Emerald eyes flashed at me, sending my thoughts careening into dark places, then quickly looked away. A blush crept across Kat’s face as she crossed her arms, glaring at me, her spine curving unnaturally off to one side like that of a wurm.

"Shut up," she growled, but there was less bite in it than usual.

"No, seriously," I continued. "You're like this badass underground predator ninja. The way you just yeeted that guy across the room? Amazing. And the fear aura? Chef's kiss. Perfect execution. You're not even wincing when you move... how?"

"This place is dark," she said. "Darker than mere shadows. Full of treachery, fear, death and misery. Many people died here in pain over millennia. It feeds my Omnid heart, fuels my dark furnace."

She pulled the giant magisteel sword from the wheelchair strapped to her back and swung it through the air, making it hum ominously.

"Like a true Stollwurm," I nodded appreciatively. "Haven't you been down here... in Undertown?"

"No, I have not," she said. "Zalimar does not permit students to break protocol or to wander around like we are now. He makes Quint stay behind for a bit and goes in first. Nobody could deviate from the program under his watch."

"Ye," Vee clicked. "The Koshei’s lessons are bone-dry. Exchange money, go to the Guild cathedral, sleep at the Gilded Gryphon Inn, visit the market, collect magic grass from the fields, maybe visit a low level dungeon nearby when permitted, etc."

"Speaking of bone-dry," I grinned as Motrdem returned with drinks. "Morty - what can you tell us about the dungeons of Arx?"

The bartender set down our drinks - something dark and smoking in heavy crystal glasses.

I eyed Io. The Motman grabbed a drink and sipped it. "No disasters. Just good ol' vintage Shandrian Undertow Shadow-wine. Em bought it for us before."

"There are many dungeons around Shandria," the Guildmaster said. "Whenever a mage dies, a dungeon is born. The more people and beasts a dungeon core kills, infects and ties to itself, the deeper it sinks into the hollow-filled shell of Arx. Go deep enough and you'll find a dungeon worth your salt."

"How deep are we talking?" I asked, leaving my drink be. I needed a clear mind.

"There isn't an upper limit," the Guild Master shrugged. "The deeper down you go, the more dangerous the dungeons become."

"What is the purpose of dungeon delving? I asked.

"Dungeons are where most potent magical items come from," Motrdem explained. "Whenever a Celestorm passes overhead, things manifest in the dungeon."

"Things such as?"

"Things woven from dreams and desires of men who died there or are delving there now," the bartender revealed. "Swords that can cleave through a hundred men. Armor that turns the wearer into living shadow or make them immune to arrows. Rings that make its wearer invincible or invisible or lucky in love. Magically charged gold. Magically charged gems. Artifacts of power."

"And what happens to delvers who die in these dungeons?" I asked.

"They become bound to the dungeon as Sentinels - hollow, walking, undead hives," Motrdem shrugged. "Smaller monsters or bugs grow inside their flesh which slowly becomes more and more aligned to whatever the dungeon's alignment is. Sentinels are basically magical skills that pretend to be a person. The older a Sentinel is, the less of a heartcore they have. Takes about twenty years for a dungeon to completely devour a person from within."

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"Interesting," I nodded. "And these dungeons... they all have cores?"

"Yes," the bartender confirmed. "The core is the heart of the dungeon. It is a skill of a long dead great mage bound into crystalline strata."

"So if one were to, hypothetically, want to start their own dungeon..." I began.

The bartender blinked at me like I was mad.

"Kill a powerful mage in the wild," he said. "Place the core somewhere where someone won’t pawn it for a few decades. That's it."

"So you're saying," I leaned forward, "that if someone were to kill a powerful mage and place their core in a random room on Arx, a dungeon would just... form? Just like that?"

"Yes," Motrdem nodded.

"Do you people not have cemeteries?" I asked.

"No," he said. "We do not. Those that die in Shandria are burned on the spot, the cores taken by the City Watch. Their cores fuel the Ward of Shandria."

"And what are Celestorms?" I asked.

As Motrdem launched into an explanation of magical weather phenomena that summoned wild monsters into existence, I felt Cinder lean against my shoulder.

"What are you planning?" she whispered in my ear.

"Just gathering information," I replied quietly.

"You're plotting something," she insisted. "I can tell by that chuppy look in your eyes."

"Me? Plot? Never," I grinned. "I'm just a simple human trying to learn about this fascinating new world."

"Simple human my tail," Cinder muttered, but stayed close.

"Morty, I heard upstairs that your Guild is connected to dungeons," I said. "Please describe each for me."

"The tunnel marked with a wave symbol leads to the Gloomkerr Dungeon. It is an underground watery abyss filled with fish and other marine creatures. Its depths haven't been scouted well and it is relatively safe with the exception of giant glowing slugs who occasionally show up. We acquired fish food from it."

I nodded.

"Tunnel marked with a spiral leads to the Crownspiral dungeon. It is a shell of a snail-god-beast. Within it, time is broken, looped into itself. It is not for the faint of heart for to delve deeper into the spiral one must kill their companions and sacrifice their blood to it. It reincarnates people, rewinds time while feasting on their mana. Those foolish enough to delve too deep in do not return."

"I see," I said. "Anything else?"

"The tunnel marked with a snowflake is the long cold tunnel diligently maintained by our Guild for many centuries. It leads to the Abystall dungeon directly below us which extends far past the West edge of Undertown. It is truly massive and ancient and it is where we procure our meats. It is safe to observe from above, but stepping into the field below will slowly drain an adventurer and all of their tools of mana. It is a very devious place, for the higher level someone is and the more magical their armor, the faster they will perish there."

"Got it" I said, contemplating my delving options.

I continued questioning Motrdem about everything from Guilds, to dungeon mechanics, to local politics, building a mental map of Shandria's power structure. The Guild Master, seemingly relieved we weren't going to throw him into another dimension, proved to be a trove of very interesting information.

According to him there were a few Guildnet-connected Mage Towers in Undertown too, but they were in very shoddy condition and owned by unscrupulous, dangerous men who also ran criminal guilds or drug-peddling gangs.

Katherine remained standing beside me, occasionally interjecting with surprisingly insightful questions about the deeper dungeons. Staying in the dark tavern, far below ground was doing wonders for her health.

Vespera had settled into a corner booth, wings crackling softly as she listened and took notes on her phone. Despite the lack of signal to Omnithornia, the device still worked as a notepad. Cinder had gotten bored, lost track of my incessant questions and was chewing on a wyvern leg next to Vee, obliterating it bone and all.

"Is your tower considered a mage tower?" I asked the Guild Master.

"No," he replied. "It wasn't build by a mage. Its walls had never been aligned to one particular magic affinity or another. It is simply a Guild for all who wish to challenge the dungeons below or around us."

"How come your bar is so dilapidated and half empty?" I asked.

"I refuse to add Topaz to the alcohol served here and I do not allow attendees to smoke Topaz cigars in my Guild," he replied with a small sigh. "It dulls the mind too much, bloats the body, slows response-time. Adventuring with a Topaz-addled mind is a road straight to your death."

In another hour of conversation, I checked the time on my smartwatch and saw that it was getting late.

“Got a room for five with decent wards where nobody will bug us?” I asked.

“Yes,” the Guild Master nodded. “Three silver a night.”

I slipped the silver over to him.

“Bring us more of this Shadow-wine and dinner,” I said. "Guys order whatever you feel like, your Quartermaster is covering it!"