Rok had been swimming around for a while, and on his way back to town he decided to follow through on memorializing those two Divers. He couldn’t put it off, and he’d be able to confront his own demons in the process. When he did arrive, he found something strange. He’d made note of the hole that was near the boat, but thought nothing of it, seeing many such sights on the Reefbed. Now, however, he wasn’t so sure. He sank down to the oceans floor, having filled his lungs for a good long while, and went for a closer look.
As he walked closer to the hole, now widened to whole four meters in less than the span of a day, he noticed the first inconsistency. The mana in the water was unlike anything he’d ever felt in the Reef. Not only was it almost scandalously thick, it was purely of the water element. He’d never encountered anywhere in the Reef that was purely any element, there was always another flavor. He was about to drop down into this anomaly, when he saw a reef shark approaching from the other side of the hole. He readied himself for a fight, only to be completely ignored.
The shark swam down into the hole, and disappeared through an entrance he hadn’t seen from the top. He resolved himself to wait for a moment, to see if the shark reemerged. Since the hole was going nowhere, it would do him no good to rush into it. Impatience was the end of many would be explorers, he’d set up the memorial he had planned in the meantime. He picked off a bit of rock from the seafloor, making his way to the sponge that appeared partly harvested, a certainty that it was Ret and Jegs handiwork. He carved those two names under the sponge, gouging out deep marks that he was sure wouldn’t be eroded off too soon. Tossing aside his makeshift carving tool, he swam back to the surface for a quick refill on air; he didn’t want to drown in a cave he knew nothing about. Once again sinking, this time he went directly to the bottom of the hole, finding the entrance in the cave to be a suspiciously perfect half circle, a radius of one meter. Having to get down onto his hands and knees, he fit his giant frame beneath the arch, feeling the ambient water mana seem to explode in thickness. It was eerily similar to something he’d felt during his adventuring days. Something he’d not experienced in the water. A dungeon. He tried to push this thought out of his head as soon as it appeared, there was not a single recorded event of an aquatic dungeon before, and even dungeons in swamps were almost unheard of. Saying he’d found a dungeon underwater would be the same as saying he’d found a Trench in the middle of the desert.
Unfortunately, reality makes fools of men, and upon rising out of the water and opening his eyes, he caught sight of two things that confirmed his fears. The first: kobolds, and a variant he’d never encountered. While not total proof, after all, maybe a group of kobolds made it out over the Reef, inexplicably dove down, evaded the Burn, and found a strange blue hole, that was unlikely. The second really drove it home, however, he’d stumbled right onto a Dungeon Evolution. Dungeons evolved their spawns in a manner unique to themselves, a flashy light show that leads to visible growing and changing. This isn’t often seen, only due to most dungeons being smart enough to put their creatures in such a vulnerable spot near other creatures, it was far from unheard of. A natural evolution, or natural variation is something different, usually occurring at a glacial pace as a creature shifts from pre to post-variance.
The kobolds had caught sight of him now, two of them charging towards him while the third prepared to cast some form of shamanic magic. Even without his chosen weapon, as an A+ rank adventurer, he was more than capable of dispatching kobolds with minimal trouble. So he did, the first to reach him was the shorter one without weapons, and he’d swiftly sent it flying into a nearby wall. The armed one, a chief, by the looks of it was more wary of him after that, retreating towards what he assumed was the next floor. He was very thankful that this dungeon appeared both new, and weak, before cursing himself for jinxing that. Turning to the creature he had witnessed evolving, he realized what it was. A wyvern, something that neither a new or weak dungeon would ever have, even if it appeared to be a lesser variant. He immediately charged at it, hoping to dispatch it before it recovered. He launched his fist forward, hoping that it would be enough to crush the creatures’ skull. It had just opened its eyes, the royal purple of its irises registering naught but confusion at this bold intruder. He was about to succeed when the shaman had finished his preparations, raising a meter thick wall of water and slowing his fist immensely. It made contact, the force dampened by enough to save the creature. It was still launched away by the force, but he knew it to be alive. It would have dispersed if it weren’t.
He made to give chase, already the waters hampering his sprint, yet too low to swim. If the space were larger, he may be able to show off his success in his atavistic capabilities, but the narrow corridor would not be conducive to an eight meter long, three thick Greater Saltwater Crocodile. He tried chasing, watching the chief drag the wyvern down to the next floor, the kobold bringing up the rear, but the third kobold had managed to get behind him. It wrapped its arms around his left ankle, barely, though this was enough. Rok stumbled, losing sight of his targets. Between the frustration at losing his target, and the kobold's attack he reduced the kobold to a crumpled wreck, its chest caved in and skull unrecognizable. He was unable to further vent this rage, however, as the kobold dispersed into motes of light.
He made his way to the next floor entrance, finding an ironback turtle valiantly trying to delay him further. He cursed, he knew that the longer he delayed, the greater that wyverns chances of awakening. He’d be unable to contend with it unarmed, though it would be just as incapable of slaying Rok in a straight fight. Unfortunately, dungeons do not provide those, and he knew not what else lie in those unknown depths below. He found it unlikely the dungeon could truly harm him based on what he had seen, but he wouldn’t let himself grow arrogant because of this.
He filled his lungs, punting the turtle back towards the entrance and dived down. The second floor was much like the first, only having a branching path this time. The first, to the right was completely unlit, a foreboding sensation warning away any weaker visitors. To the left, the path became fully submerged, winding out of sight. He gathered that this was the path down, as he caught the tail end of the chief hauling the wyvern as quickly as it could manage around that corner. He followed quickly, his body fairing much better in the deeper water.
Finally, he could swim. He started closing the distance immediately diving under the water. He thought the dungeon had shown its tricks, having to be so protective of a lesser wyvern meant that it either had too little mana to spawn one directly, or that it hadn’t come across a template, he surmised. Both were good, as either one meant that while his creatures could evolve into one, this dungeon could not create them right away. His musings were interrupted by a half dozen blindingly silver streaks appeared as soon as he was fully submerged, feeling a half dozen different points on his arms and legs being assaulted by what felt like dozens of tacks. His leathery skin prevented any blood from being drawn, but did nothing to hamper the pressure and painful pinching that these creatures inflicted. He kept swimming forward, seeing these flashes and feeling the bites the entire way forward. He eventually managed to grip one in his hands, surprised to find it some type of barracuda. Whatever it was, he squeezed shut his hand, reducing it to glowing dust that seemed to float away in the water.
The other barracudas continued their assault, even as he reached the entrance to the next floor. As he started swimming downwards, he was very close to the edge of the hole, sparing no time to even get into its center. His head brushed past some seaweed, before he saw a ridiculously proportioned shrimp dart out of the seaweed. Then he’d felt more than heard the loudest noise he’d ever experienced, the shrimp snapped shut that horrific claw of its right by his ears. The pressure it created followed right afterwards, both factors combining to rupture his left eardrum. The noise and pain left him reeling for a moment, he had not even slightly anticipated that a shrimp not even the size of his hand was something to be wary of, and he paid for it. His years of adventuring showed their worth, however, as he shook his head, ignoring the ringing and continued down. He was unable to find that accursed shrimp, though, the pressure it created had also set it launching back into the second floor and out of sight.
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He entered the third floor, finding it to be immensely different to the previous to the first two. A cavern of a monotonous grey, without any distinguishing features, it was hard to truly separate what was wall and what was floor. Add to that his newly burst eardrum and the problems with his standing balance, Rok struck a miserable figure. Using the wall on his left to support himself as he acclimated to his new sense of balance, he had walked into a wall on more occasions than he cared to admit. He kept his pace as fast as possible, but he knew that it was unlikely he’d be able to catch up with that wyvern at this rate. Even worse, he’d learned his lesson about this dungeon, and he had no clue what to expect out of it anymore. As he made it to the end he was able to stand without needing to lean on anything, once more showing how adaptable he was.
By this point the Wyvern was nowhere in sight, nor was the retinue of kobolds, so he was hoping that maybe he’d reached the core floor as he descended, to have that hope mercilessly shattered. Finding a floor larger than he’d thought a dungeon could make this early, he was in awe by the square kilometer of open space, myriad colors of coral casting a brilliant light throughout the cavern. He was pleased, however, that he could show off his beast-form should the need arise. And with how irritable this horrible dungeon had made him, he wouldn’t be too picky as to what constituted that need. Unfortunately, he found the floor to be entirely barren, with nary a scale in sight, and he regretfully descended to the fifth floor. This was the worst that he’d encountered, upon exiting the shaft, he discovered that it was dark. Unlit, even. His trained vision was barely able to make out definition, only seeing the twisting and turning of the three separate corridors he’d been presented. Picking the middle, he had started to consider turning around by this point. Was eradicating that wyvern, or even this dungeon even worth it? If he reported this to the guilds, he’d go down in legend.
The only problem was the slew of political wars that would follow. No doubt both the Adventurers and the Atlanteans would be at one another’s throats over this, with both having some form of claim that neither could refute. They’d have to come to some form of agreement governing the split, and likely both the Reef-bed and nearby town of Gil would be reworked extensively. He could try to only report this to one or the other, but Rok was smart enough to know that that would only end in making multiple species worth of enemies. He also had no illusions that he was likely the best choice for reporting this, being one of the few Beast-kin equally adept in both the seas and the land. Thankfully, this wasn’t a rogue dungeon, it hadn’t started expanding onto the surface, nor was its mana chaotic and disorderly. He could at least be certain of that.
He shook his head to remove those errant thoughts, even getting council with both guilds at once would be in the future, something they don’t do often, and even his status as having an A+ rating in both guilds could only do so much when it came to the bureaucracy between them. For now, he could only try to find the core, in order to give the most accurate report possible.
An unseen force knocked him out of those musings, a sharp impact to his chest sending him flying in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. He searched frantically for the offending creature, he had been worried about the wyvern, but whatever this was, it was a true threat. The two bruised ribs he felt could attest to that. Creeping back towards the shaft, and the subsequent light, he saw five pitch black limbs making their way towards him in a deliberate, yet swift and flexible way. Five of these tendrils attached to a circular base, he saw the largest brittle star he’d ever laid eyes on. It was five meters in diameter and covered in needle sharp cilia. Taking a stance, he made sure he could escape the moment he needed to. Another of the creature’s limbs struck at him, and he tried his best to catch it, without success.
It struck against his hand packing enough force behind it to leave him dumbfounded. While unable to break his bones, it left his hand hanging limp at the wrist. Another pair struck out a fraction of a second later, one aimed at his head, the other, his legs. Raising both arms to protect his skull, he crouched slightly and pushed himself back. The force of the first limb connected, his forearms crying out in pain. The second missed by barely a hair, his momentum sending him back into the shaft as he swam up. The nightmare followed him, its legs working together in some crude dance, their inefficient motions propelling it forward. Rok tried to outswim it, but with his aching arms that was a challenge he wasn’t up to. Having to turn around and fight, he was confronted with two more lashes, both aimed at his head this time, and did his best to block. He succeeded, but his forearms succumbed to their abuse. Radius and ulna both fractured, a crunch he’d long hoped never to hear again.
He grit his teeth, starting to shift into the beast-form that truly earned him his A+ with the Atlanteans. His body expanded, that hulking frame he sported only growing to more ridiculous proportions. His arms and legs showed little change in size, even as his torso grew to almost four meters. His jaw expanded as well, his devilish mouth and horrific teeth filling out the now meter long head they were situated in. the tail, that had previously appeared muscular but proportional, grew to three meters, completing the image of a true apex predator, and the deep rumbling that was being produced showed off just how displeased he had grown with this dungeon and its infuriating inhabitants.
He stared down the brittle star, the creature appearing substantially more apprehensive dealing with a creature of such obscene proportions. While it was large in diameter, each limb itself only measured ten centimeters in thickness and two-point-five meters in length. Its strength seemed far less substantial now, faced with a beast of this scale. It had its duty, however, and the stalemate was broken by the star rearing back three of its limbs and swung them all at Rok’s skull. Rok, for his part made absolutely no move to dodge, or even block, as he allowed these to strike him head on. A loud, dull whack resounded as the beast didn’t even flinch under the onslaught, the only apparent difference was a vague hint of amusement in his eyes. It felt good, showing what it meant to be a predator to that overgrown octopus tryhard. Letting the thing pull back its appendages, he suppressed a chuckle as it seemed to have felt that one more than he himself did. Shaking two of its three limbs in an all too human like manner, it swung again, using a separate two. This time, however, Rok did more than watch. In a flash, he shifted his jaws, opening them slightly and allowing these two limbs access into his maw. Then, he shut his mouth.
The stars limbs fared poorly, confronted with the vice-like grip and jagged teeth of Rok, one was cut free of its body, thrashing and flailing even as it was swallowed, but without the body to anchor it there was no force behind it. The second limb met the same fate a short moment later, a short shake of the head was all that Rok needed to remind the brittle star what the first half of its name truly meant. It didn’t take the star long to realize the disparity, and it swiftly retreated back into the darkness of the fifth floor to nurse its wounds. Rok was certain this was a boss, the methodical attacks combined with its strength, if this wasn’t the boss of the first floors then he would truly despair. He reverted back to his humanoid form, checking behind himself to make sure that nothing was coming from that blasted hole. He swam up, moving slowly, his chest and arms wracked with a dull, throbbing pain, and he realized how out of practice he was. Despite how much it put him through, that star couldn’t have been more than a solid B level, it just happened to be very well attuned to one-on-one fights. As he passed through the floors once more, he spared a moment to search the second for that shrimp. Restoring an eardrum and hearing cost a hefty sum, too many small parts for a potion or novice healer to get to.
Of course, he couldn’t find it, the thing had gone off to who knows where, and he wouldn’t scour the place for some petty revenge. He rose out of the dungeon, to the surface and once more changed into his beast form. He just wanted to get back to town after that, and it’d take him less time if nothing bothered him along the way.