The next morning found Jarrod well rested in a soft bed, able to wash with soap as well as water and a belly full of good hot food.

He had even managed to barter to fill up his provisions sack, not just with hard bread, but small fruit cakes drizzled through with honey as well as a few apples all for another pair of silver coins.

He had thought long and hard last night about what his best course of action was. As he saw it there were two real options, firstly he could head West and carry-on heading towards Stonemaul, try and find out as much information as he could about the dungeon there and try to tackle it, ensuring he had cleared his second for his quest. The other would be to head for the freshly discovered one North from here which whilst leading him back East a little way would be re-tracing his steps there was a dungeon in practically spitting distance.

There was a long list of both pros and con’s working for the newly discovered dungeon. In its favour, was its distance – he could head there and lose maybe only a week to two’s worth of travel time and still be able to head to Stonemaul afterwards. More importantly, it was well known that the first people to clear a dungeon got better rewards. Not only did they get better rewards, but they could also gain access to unique achievements.

Obviously, the cons were also much higher. Firstly, there was the chance that he may not even be able to gain access to the dungeon. If it was a copper tier or possibly even a tin tier, then he would have wasted the entire travel time to get there and back. Even if he could gain access, there was a chance that he wouldn’t be allowed or able to gain access from whichever group had discovered the dungeon. Finally, the most serious con itself, there was absolutely no information on the dungeon, there was no information possible because it was completely and utterly unexplored.

There were no telling what monsters may have made it their home, if there was the potential for traps, if it could hold sentients or just “dumb” monsters. Taking all of this into account, perhaps a touch impulsively just after dawn found Jarrod travelling East, retracing his steps along the river road looking for the turn in the road North.

The day itself was cool at the moment but promised to be a scorcher. There was nary a cloud in the sky, not a breath of wind in the sky. The trees and bushes remained unruffled by any disturbance. It took him nearly half a day to retrace his steps as far as the river’s tributary that wound its way from the North to join the main body of the river as it ran West. Stopping for lunch he turned his vision North and cast around trying to spot anything he could. Whether fortunately or unfortunately could not be accurately ascribed, for Jarrod saw nothing of note. What he could see was a winding stream flowing downhill through a number of hills, as it wound towards him. There was a number of trees stood on the banks as it swept towards him. In addition, there was a number of windswept tree’s capped a number of the furthest hills from where Jarrod stood.

He estimated that it would take him around four days of travel to get from his place now to the far end of what he could see. What he did not see however was any sign of civilisation. There were no buildings, there were no people, no caravans no smoke from campfires or homesteads. There was not even a road leading away from where he stood. There was what could be best described as a game trail following the stream northwards.

Trying to figure out if this had been a mistake or not, Jarrod could come to no firm decision. Having no reason to head back to the inn or Westwards just yet meant that late afternoon had found Jarrod having travelled around four hours Northwards. There was little to show for his travels in terms of information gained. What he knew about newly discovered dungeons was that they were like all others. The dungeon would take from the surrounding biome, of monsters who lived in the locale. Sentients who claimed the local geography as their home and in particular dungeons would use the local topography always. A dungeon with its entrance in a forest would always be a forest-based dungeon.

With this there were no exceptions. What also happened with newly discovered dungeons is that frequently they were either fit to bursting in terms of monsters allocated by the system, or there had been at least one, if not multiple breakouts. Dungeons were not tied to humanities discovery of them. They did not set their time by humankind’s time, only the Gods knew what time the dungeons kept. Some seemed to approach a breakout every cycle from stories he had been told and others could last for over a thousand years. Where there was no rhyme or reason man could see, did not mean that all that was left would be chaos. It just meant there was a pattern to be found, a method in the madness still to be discerned.

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Resorting to his tried-and-true method of rest that evening found Jarrod folded up beneath a particularly bushy rhododendron wrapped in his cloak and not risking a fire. He had not seen anything bigger than a rabbit all day, certainly nothing of note, and whilst it wasn’t worrying him just yet – especially as he was still at best guess about a week travel away.

Over the next three days, Jarrod found his attention starting to wander. He had some better travelling food, easy access to fresh water. The terrain remained the same, the most interesting thing that happened for him was a change in elevation as he went up one side of a hill and down into valleys on the other.

As he awoke on the fifth day Jarrod realised, he had actually eaten the last of his dried fruit cakes, with a sense of disappointment settling into his stomach along with some of the hard-tack bread. Sighing and tossing all of his equipment back together Jarrod heaved himself to his feet and set off again.

Your ankle is no longer sprained. Your movement speed is back to its maximum.

You have been walking for a significant period of time day in day out for over a fortnight now. +1 STA

The system messages flashing up really did perk Jarrod up and he found himself revitalised. He hadn’t realised that his mind had been wandering as much as it had done, however he had nothing to show for the past few days. He had seen nothing and had been trying his best to figure out what this dungeon was going to be.

After a couple of hours of travel, there was the most significant change Jarrod had noticed for five days’ worth of travel. The smell of smoke was tickling his nose, laced through with the scents of baking bread, roasting meats and more. The smells of civilisation started to assault his nose. As he crested the hill he was walking up, he noticed that whilst the stream continued its meandering northwards path, there was down in the valley below a gap in the soil. There was what looked in essence to him an underground cave opening. There were a number of folks stood around the outside edge where there was a number of ropes leading down into the bowels of the earth. They had a number of small fires going along with a pair of roughly made shacks that were clearly being used for these men to sleep in. They had clearly been left here as watchers or guards, against what was anyone’s question.

They were like night and day with the Butcher’s men. These were all clean, clothes well maintained and tidy. Whilst their clothes were in all manner of styles, colours and cuts. The one thing that was the same for all of them was a tabard they wore over the top of their clothes, or armour they had on. The tabard was made of pristine white cloth, with a stylised golden sunburst on the left shoulder and an alpine tree on the centre of the chest.

Whilst Jarrod had intended to stay and watch for longer to try and gain some information maybe even about where these people had come from, they however had spotted him already and had different ideas.

“Morning there lad, what can we do for you?” One of the men called up to Jarrod, silhouetted against the crest of the hill.

Realising he had been spotted, Jarrod raised his hand in greeting and set off down the hill towards the men. Feeling a tingle in between his eyes, he realised he had been identified and had yet again managed to forget to use that skill on people that he hadn’t interacted with previously. Realising that doing it now would not only tip his hand but would also seem potentially rude, he held the skill and replied in kind.

“Well met. I had heard there was a new dungeon discovered, was hoping to maybe get a look and offer my services. Considering I am still wood tier, I will be able to let whoever is holding charge know exactly what the dungeon is and the deal with it.”

Rubbing his chin, the man seemingly came to a decision quickly.

“Not a bad decision, as you can see there’s not much up here at all, we are still exploring the tunnels down below in case there is more than we expected available. Tell you what head down and ask for Tom, he’s in charge of this dig at the moment out of everyone here. It’s clear that you’re not a threat to run amok so I have no reason to deny you entry as it stands. Just remember to be polite, don’t piss anyone off intentionally and don’t demand anything from him. If he says no, then it’s a no – and if you don’t take it graciously you may end up worse for wear.”

Waving his hand towards the nearest rope the guard had clearly dismissed him without even offering Jarrod his name. With nothing to be gained by waiting on top, he grasped the rope and started to climb down, as he came to a realisation as his feet left the solid ground, he had never actually climbed a rope before, only trees.

How hard could it be?