Delving this far into the Dungeon is always a pain in the ass…

For most adventurers, getting to the second layer is good enough. That’s as far as they will ever have to go to be able to make a simple living and enough coin to get by. The forest of giant trees is a massive place with an overabundance of natural resources that are almost always in high demand in the city. If you are part of a team that can regularly delve into the second layer and harvest some goods, you could live a comfortable enough life for yourself without putting your life in too much danger.

Depending on how good you are, you just wouldn’t go to certain floors and settle with your chosen gathering spots. Maybe you would hunt certain monsters for their parts, or search through the many trees for the occasional treasure chest. The second layer is where most adventurers stop when it comes to Dungeons. After all, beyond that point is where the Dungeon seriously starts.

It’s not the difficulty of the fights, nor the danger of traps, which do noticeably increase in number down this far. No, it’s the water. It’s time. And it is a sort of… pressure, to put the feeling into a single word.

Down this far, the Dungeon starts to get to you. In your mind. It wears away at you bit by bit until you are stressed and frayed and jumping at shadows. Maybe you will start to lose your temper with your friends. Maybe you start to see the shadows move in the corner of your vision or you hear voices that no one else does. And to make matters worse, you are always wet. Oh, and the water isn’t safe to drink unless you find a safe room, being basically dirty salt water, so if you don’t carry enough drinking water on you, dehydration is a serious issue. So, you can’t even drink the stuff, and that just makes it even better!

It doesn’t matter how hard you try down here; your clothes are going to be anywhere from a little damp to straight up drenched at all times. You can’t escape it. Either you get splashed during a fight, or step in a puddle, or you fall in the water, or if not any of that, then it is the moister in the air or the constant dripping of water that falls from the ceiling and from the leaky pipes that run along the brick walls in tangled messes of running iron and copper that seemingly goes on forever as they carry water and steam to untold places deeper in.

Something of note. Despite being a part of the Dungeon’s walls, which are almost completely indestructible, the pipes are actually breakable and will slowly regenerate as the Dungeon heals the damage. This technically make the pipes an excellent source of iron and copper that can be gathered, but due to the distance that has to be traveled to get down here, people have yet to figure out a method of reliably mining the metal. Regardless, the monster parts and treasures that can be gathered down here are far more valuable, so stealing some piping is only done if you have the extra space to fill before leaving.

Back on the subject of this layer being a pain in the ass. Besides the pipes always being leaky and dripping water on people’s heads, they also have a tendency to shake and rattle at the worse times, or for steam to erupt just as you’re about to walk past. Maybe you trip and try to break your fall by grabbing a pipe? There is a good chance that the pipe will either snap and make your fall even worse, or you are going to burn your hand on hot metal. Should have worn gloves. Not to mention randomly getting tripped. You could swear the floor didn’t have that bump there before, but next thing you know, you’re tripping on a loose brick and almost nailing your head on the wall. It’s almost like the very brickwork in this place is trying to kill you…

It is almost like… this entire layer was designed just to piss people off…

Regardless. This naturally raises the question. Why the hell would people want to come down this far if everything they could need and want is right in the second layer? Why delve further into the Dungeon if they are just going to suffer?

Well, for some adventurers, just making a living isn’t enough. Some want more. They want the riches that can be found deeper in these labyrinthine halls. Or perhaps they want glory and recognition of their strength and ability. Or perhaps they are some of the crazy few that dream of conquering a Dungeon and reaching its bottom. Most people don’t fall into that last category though.

While there are plenty of people that dream of becoming a legend, known for beating a Dungeon and claiming the riches that most likely waits at its bottom. The vast majority of those people are quickly hit with reality when they realize just how hard it is to reach the lower levels. How it isn’t just dangerous, – which it most certainly is, what with all the monsters that want to eat your face – but also just how tedious it can be.

To just reach the third layer alone, safely, can take most parties upwards of a week of just traveling. That’s not counting the time spent fighting monsters or sneaking around to avoid fights. Unless of course they are in hurry, taking the shortest possible paths, and are throwing caution to the wind. Then it could take a couple of days, but only idiots would do that…

No, delving into a Dungeon takes time. It’s an investment and a dedication, and every time you enter these deep, hungry, holes in the ground, there is a very real possibility that you might not make it back out alive.

So, combine all these things. The time, the effort, all the traveling and being away from your family and home, fighting monsters, risking your life, eating nothing but rations, sleeping in a hostile place that wants you dead… And then, after fighting tooth and nail against a freaking house sized spider of a boss, you finally get to enter a place that is basically a fucking sewer and enjoy days of walking around with soggy socks and a perpetual case of swamp ass.

You better have brought plenty of changes of socks and underwear, because if you didn’t, you are in for a shitty time full of rashes and foot pain!

For most people, this is rightfully more than enough to dissuade them from wanting to go any further.

Then why bother coming down here at all?

Excluding the crazies. There are two reasons to come to this place and suffer. One, is to just quickly get through it and hurry to the next layer as quickly as possible. And the second, and why most people stay here for any amount of time, is treasure.

Compared to the first and second layer, the third layer has far more treasure chests to be found randomly throughout the floors. And even better, if you are lucky enough, you can even find some enchanted gear which doesn’t start to become more common until layer 4, after floor twenty.

All of this is to explain why it is that the Mad Dogs are here. A party of five adventurers, they are here for treasure and have been down here long enough to already be hating their lives and wishing they were back up on the surface.

With a clash of steel slashing through tough scales, Gerald hacks through the thick, scale covered shoulder of a Lizard Man, the large bipedal creature letting out a pain filled hiss of a scream as blood erupts from its torn open wound. With the blood spraying out and getting on his armor, Gerald curses and kicks the thing away with his boot in its gut, sending the dying lizard falling into the waterway.

A splash of water of course just has to hit him, wetting his shirt that had only managed to dry a little since last time.

“Fucking…! Just die already you damn lizards!” He shouts as he blocks a thrusted spear with his buckler and then delivers another angry slash, forcing a second creature to back off and block the strike with the shaft of its spear.

Fel considers telling him to calm down, but quite frankly, she is in just as bad of a mood as he is right now. The water down here is playing hell on her hair and making her scalp itchy… Not to mention that she doesn’t want to tell the guys that she has a rash forming on her thighs that is making walking rather painful right now. But worse of all is the water damage to her bow.

Fel has been meaning to replace it with a new one for a while now, but it still should have lasted her through this trip. But now, even as she nocks an arrow and fires it into the eye of a Lizard Man, she can see how the string is slowly becoming more frayed and worn. Most of her earnings from this run is probably going to have to go into buying that new bow she wanted a little earlier than intended, but she is still annoyed that she is being forced to hurry with replacing this one already…

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And, if it wasn’t bad enough, for a little while now, Fel has been hearing noises coming from the depths of the Dungeon. It almost sounds like claws and bone clicking against stone, and she swears that she can hear a distant voice talking to itself. Probably just more delusions. This place is getting to her, and it doesn’t help that she can’t pinpoint which direction the noises are coming from, which just further fuels her paranoia. Shaking her head, Fel launches another arrow, but a Lizard Man with a shabby wooden shield blocks it before hissing at her and trying to charge at the archer.

The Lizard Man is stopped by a large kite shield as Andrew steps in and smashes into the charging reptile. Fel can’t help but to smile at the large back of her boyfriend, feeling giddy at having him protect her. Yes, he is the party’s tank, and so he is actually protecting everyone, not just her. But still, there is something really nice about seeing her lover’s back as he fends off a beast that wanted to harm her.

A drip of water from a pipe on the ceiling chooses that exact moment to slash on her head, sending a shiver running down her back. Then, causing her to jump, another pipe by the wall pops and a gout of steam blows at her legs, making her let out a startled scream.

Rage quickly replaces those giddy feelings as she is forced to remember where she is and how miserable she currently is. Turning, she angrily kicks at the offending pipe with her knee-high boots and dents the pipe in against the wall until the steam stops blowing.

“Fucking Dungeon, I hate this!”

Still feeling pissed, she quickly draws an arrow and fires it at another Lizard Man that wasn’t paying attention to her, sinking the arrow into its temple.

Normally, a Lizard Man’s skull is too thick for arrows to pierce, much like a gator or a crocodile, but they have their week points where a well-placed shot can break through. Similarly, the scales of the Lizard Men are quite thick and sturdy, making blades ill-suited for taking them on. But the Mad Dogs are better than most. Their sword arms are strong and their hits land true.

In truth, the Mad Dogs are already at the level of strength where they could have a good shot at reaching the next layer. If they were to fight the Boss on the twentieth floor, they could probably win. Really, they are just here to farm.

With Andrew holding back the Lizard Man from getting to the backline, a spear stabs out from behind him as Blane attacks the distracted foe. With his spear stabbed through its stomach, he pushes forward and frees up Andrew from blocking, allowing the big tank to charge up a powerful swing and bring his heavy cudgel down on the monster’s crocodilian head. With a loud crack and a hiss of pain, its skull cracks open like a melon and some grey matter spills out as it hits the floor, making an awful mess. Off to the side, Gerald is finishing off the last one, his sword buried in its throat nearly to the hilt. With a twist and a hard pull, he rips the blade out and the last Lizard Man goes down in a spray of blood.

At the back of the party, watching to make sure they don’t get ambushed from behind, Laz, short for Lazintabinacle, lets out a sigh of relief as the fight ends.

“You think that was the last one? Shouldn’t be very many monsters left on this floor now, right?”

Gerald looks back toward the little man and nods as he wipes the blood off his sword with a rag. “Yeah, this should be the last one, I think. This floor only spawns a dozen groups of Lizard Men… That was the twelfth group, right?”

“Yup, finally done for today…” Fel sighs out as she stretches her arms and satisfyingly pops a couple of stiff joints.

“Finally, so we can get out of here now? Our packs are already stuffed to bursting.” Laz asks in a hurry, dark rings under his eyes as he looks around in a hurry.

“Yeah, yeah, this is the last one. Let’s skin them and then get the hell out of here. We’ll spend the night in the twelfth-floor safe room, and then tomorrow, make a b-line for the teleporter and get out of here. Goddess, I could kill for some alcohol right now…” Gerald assures with a nod.

“Hahaha,” Fel laughs as she walks towards the nearest corpse. “Not just a drink. I swear, if anyone gets between me and the bath house when we get up there, I’m liable to murder them.”

Andrew kicks one of the corpses over so he can get to work on cutting open its gut, “Here, here. Hey, how about we go to the shared baths? I can wash your back for ya.” He says with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.

Fel blushes as she sinks the blade into her chosen corpse, working it between muscle and skin, and giving her boyfriend a hungry look. “Throw in a massage and you’ve got yourself a deal~”

Blane and Gerald, trying to ignore the flirting lovebirds, collectively let out a sigh that only lonely men can make. Reaching over and tapping Gerald on his leather pauldron, he asks, “Want to hit up the red-light district after we sell the loot? Those coins are going to be burning a hole in my pocket if I don’t spend them fast enough.”

“Sure, you know I always love to help support the working women of Silest!” Gerald jokes with a big smile on his face, already imagining having a lovely lady in both arms as one feeds him grapes and the other holds his drink, their loose, translucent, clothing barley covering their bodies as her gropes them and makes them moan and giggle.

A dirt coated hand feeling at his chin, he frowns though. “Going to need a shave first… How long we been down here?”

Laz quickly answers, “Two weeks, four days.” His head on a swivel as the little man keeps looking around like he is trying to spot something.

“You alright?” Gerald has to ask as he looks up at the worried thief. He knows that Hobbits are skittish little things, but Laz is braver than that. Plus, he is only half Hobbit, so the human half of him gives him more courage than most of his kin. Apparently, Laz’s mom had a thing for shorter men. Gerald still remembers the day he met Laz’s parents and still wants to laugh at how weird it was.

Laz’s dad was half Gerald’s size and looking like an old man, while Laz’s mother… well, the woman was quite the looker, to put it simply and to keep from being inappropriate while describing a friend’s mother. The lucky little bastard…

Regardless, as a thief, not a rouge, Laz isn’t a fighter. His job is to disarm traps, pick locks, and look out for dangers. And he is damn good at it. Ignoring the fact that he is completely useless in a fight, the little man has saved the Mad Dog’s lives on more than one occasion. So, when he looks worried, everyone pays attention. The couple of times they didn’t, by chalking it up to him just being a cowardly Hobbit, had all ended with them getting injured or into deep shit.

The others are quick to drop what they are doing as well. Fel and Andrew stop flirting with each other, and Blane stops his work, everyone looking towards Laz and waiting.

“Laz, what is it?” Gerald asks again.

“I… I don’t know? Claws, or foots steps? Someone talking, I think?”

Fel perks up, “You hear it to?”

Laz just nods and says, “Can’t tell from where, though. Dungeon is bouncing the sounds around too much…”

“I thought I was just hearing things again. Thank goodness, this place was driving me nuts… Or maybe not good. You think it might be an enemy?”

“Possibly? It’s getting more clear… I definitely hear someone talking, has to be a person, but… who are they talking too? I only hear the one voice. But there are definitely several figures walking…”

Leaving Laz to try and figure out what he is hearing, everyone else turns to Gerald, their leader, and silently asks with a look, “We staying, or leaving?”

The man just gives it a second to consider before making up his mind.

“Let's get out of here. Regardless of who or what it is, there is too much risk.”

The rest goes unsaid, but the others understand. If it is just more monsters, they don’t need to be risking a pointless fight after they already tired themselves out with fighting the Lizard Men all day. And if it is people, then they don’t want to take the risk of whoever it is deciding to try and rob them for their bags full of loot. Down here, this far into the Dungeon, even other people are a serious - if not worse – threat than the monsters are. After all, accidents do happen…

Everyone quickly packs up; the unprocessed bodies being left where they are as the party quickly moves to leave.

As Fel is grabbing the last of her arrows, pulling it out of an eye socket, Laz curses.

“Shit, getting closer!”

“Which direction?”

“I don’t know! The Dungeon is messing with-” Laz tries to say. The words, ‘with me.’ dying on his tongue as he turns to check the end of the hall at his back.

Rounding the corner, a beast of bone and scraps of loose drying skin and tusks like lances rounds the corner at a casual gait, its hoofs clicking against the brick stone floor with every massive step.

And then another creature of bone and another still follows a step behind. The two being demonic looking horrors of bone and claw and horn, like as if someone had excavated the fossils of Demons from some long-abandoned circle of Hell.

But it doesn’t stop with just the three skeletal monstrosities. A flying, gigantic batlike creature with clawed hands for feet and the skull of a man for a head, flaps it bone and skinless wings to fly into the passage, choosing to land on the ceiling and craw around for a bit before stopping to turn and look toward the humans with dead and empty eyes.

“a” Laz squeaks as he goes wide eyed at the sudden appearance of the Undead. Something that he knows shouldn’t be here and that her has always made sure to avoid as much as possible. After all, Laz is scared of Undead. Always has been ever since his big brother and his older friends took him to that haunted house during a festival some years ago. Especially ghosts. Laz hates ghosts!

“AAAAAAAAAAAaahhhhhhhhhh!!!!”

Laz is running now, sprinting with all his might as he pushes and shoves past everyone else and screaming like a little girl. He doesn’t even bother looking to see all the other skeletons rounding the corner, but the others do. The other members of the Mad Dog get to see as more skeletal monstrosities and abominations round the corner. They get to see as an insectile creature of bone and claw and dripping poisons, like some kind of hellish scorpion rounds the corner with a girl riding on its back, a huge smile full of sharp teeth on her face as her joy filled eyes meet theirs.

“Hello humans, want to be friends!?”

No words are needed. Not even any looks are needed to be shared between the adventurers of the Mad Dog. Everyone just simply and unanimously makes a decision in that moment.

What decision did they make? Fuck this. Fuck no. Run!