The dungeon at Cairhaven was in the center of the small town, so close to the exact middle of the hex that a structure had to be built on top of it in order to make room for the warp point. It was an unusual configuration, something that Alfric had never seen before, and he found that he had an affection for it.
Dungeon entrances were always in a random place within the hex, which sometimes made things awkward or difficult, especially when they were underwater. Similar but opposite, the warp point was always in the hexal centerpoint, which was sometimes inconvenient, requiring a platform to be built so that people wouldn’t find themselves on the edge of a cliff, in the middle of a lake, or somewhere else that might be dangerous. A dungeon on top of a warp point seemed quite unlikely, and Alfric was tempted to break out some math, maybe with Pinion’s help, in order to find out just how rare it was. It was entirely possible that this was the only hex that had an overlap like this in the entire world.
Their dungeon team was one of firsts: their first time without Mizuki, their first time without Hannah, and their first time with Pinion. It was such a major shakeup that under normal circumstances, Alfric would have insisted that their party take some time to do team exercises and further training, especially because Pinion was not in any sense of the word a dungeoneer, and particularly because they were going in with four rather than the full five. But this wasn’t a normal dungeon, it was something that Verity would be making, not a dungeon in the conventional sense at all. While there had been some surprises, a few of them unpleasant, they didn’t need to be fully geared for combat. What they needed was to be ready for anything.
Mizuki was being surprisingly laid back about not being there for the mission, and Alfric didn’t quite trust it.
“You being worried about me having a bad reaction is going to make me have a bad reaction,” said Mizuki, and that had more or less been the end of the conversation. Besides, there were only so many ways of asking ‘are you really sure you’re fine with this’.
Alfric had, deep down, been hoping for a little bit of a reaction. It would have been the Mizuki thing to do, and it would have underscored the fact that they were a dungeoneering party and she was an integral part of it. But if she was going to be mature about it, Alfric was going to have to accept that, and not think that it was a secret sign that she was outgrowing the group.
“I’m nervous,” said Pinion. He was in full armor, a lobster-red entad that he’d purchased from a shop a few days prior. It was classic panic gear, perfect for an inexperienced newcomer: it let him merge into someone near him, zipping across the battlefield to do so. There were some harsh limitations to it, and a faintly fishy smell, but it had seemed like a good purchase, especially given the low asking price. It had, apparently, been taking up space in the entad shop for seven years.
“Nervous why?” asked Isra.
“It’s not entirely safe,” said Pinion. “And we’re changing many things at once.”
“It’s a good test,” said Verity. “But I think it shouldn’t matter all that much. The technique doesn’t feel like it depends upon anyone but the bard.”
“I think it’s a little soon to call it a technique,” said Alfric.
“It’s definitely a technique,” said Verity. “I’m all good to go, by the by.”
It was a bit too casual for Alfric’s liking, but he had run through his pre-dungeon checklist, and he had made sure that everything under his control was ready as well. Pinion was a liability, frankly, but he was armored up, and Alfric was hopeful that he would be a research asset more than he was a tourist.
Verity was the first one through the dungeon entrance, at her request, but Alfric was immediately after her, ready to kill anything that she’d managed to conjure up.
When he came through, Verity was standing at the edge of a cliff, looking out on the wide landscape before her. Alfric was looking for threats, but the lute that was supposed to scream in case of trouble was silent, and after half a minute of watching and listening, he let his guard down a bit and came to join her, which gave Isra and Pinion time to join them. They were high up, and a verdant crater was before them.
They were on the inside of the crater, unable to see anything beyond it, if there was something beyond it. The crater walls were free of vegetation, mostly rock, but the floor was a bucolic scene a few miles across, verdant prairies whose grasses were rippling in the wind and a forest on the crater’s far edge, kept at bay by a lake but threatening to move in around the lake’s edges.
From a distance, they could see a herd of brown creatures grazing on the prairie grasses. This had been one of the major goals for this dungeon: docile creatures. Whether they were actually docile remained to be seen, but Verity seemed to have manipulated the dungeon into making a herd of grazing animals. They seemed large to Alfric, worryingly so, but it was something.
In the woods, there was a thin trail of smoke, as from a campfire, and Alfric’s eyes were drawn to it. Verity had been trying to not have people or anything like them, and her success there, too, remained to be seen. The presumed campfire was a bad sign.
“Alright,” said Verity. “Not quite what I was imagining.”
“It’s a pleasant valley,” said Isra.
“Crater, not valley,” said Alfric. He pointed out at the crater walls. “The reverse dome-shape, that comes from a heavy impact, and one this size, half a hex across, would have to have been the kind of impact that would only come with utter calamity. These were, in deep history, impacts that came from weapons.”
“Supposedly,” said Pinion.
Alfric laughed. “I’m sure it sounds like one of Mizuki’s stories. But I visited the Donguru Crater and learned all about them when I was little, and the guides seemed to credit the idea of weapons.”
“Is that much to see, a crater?” asked Isra. She was looking out, skeptical. “It has its beauty, I suppose.”
“I’ve been to the Donguru,” said Verity. “This looks inspired by that. The way the edges were carved by force, not erosion … nothing else like it.” She turned to Isra. “I would suggest a crater visit, yes. It can be an experience, thinking about destruction of that scale.”
“But you weren’t trying for a crater?” asked Pinion.
“No,” said Verity, shaking her head. “I was trying to have a smaller dungeon this time, something contained. I guess we get this.”
Alfric cleared his throat. “If the dungeon is a mile across, it would be among the largest dungeons that a party of our elevation has ever faced. In truth, it seems more likely to be two miles in diameter.”
“That would be three point one four square miles,” said Pinion.
“How do you know that?” asked Isra. “The math seems difficult.”
“It’s not, really,” said Pinion. “We can talk about mathematical constants later though. We’ve a dungeon to explore, don’t we?”
Exploring was easier said than done, though there was a vague suggestion of a trail going down the crater wall, and for a few stretches of the descent, the rocks were arranged so that they almost formed stairs. It was never as though someone had built something for people to walk down, instead as though pieces of debris had fallen in exactly the correct places so as to never have to jump or climb down. It was uncanny, in a way, but Alfric was still finding the smoke from within the forest more uncanny. He was hoping that it was a campsite, seemingly abandoned, stew unattended and cooking down to nothing, like they had seen before.
He looked back at the place they’d come from, which he’d marked with a red flag, and made sure that he could see it. In an emergency, they would be able to be out fast. He had the helm that allowed flight, and could scoop up the others. This was a dungeon with monsters, after all, and there was some cause for caution, even if Verity had tried to keep dungeon madness from affecting them.
The grass was an interesting variety, with leaves that curled into corkscrews when touched. After a handful of seconds, the grass would uncurl, becoming long and smooth again, erasing any evidence of their passing.
They were moving toward the creatures, who seemed to have noticed them. But the animals were cautious, not violent, wary in the way of a wild rabbit.
“You did it,” said Alfric.
“Party channel?” asked Pinion.
“Not necessary, unless you think they’ll spook,” said Alfric. He was keeping his voice low.
This was probably how rules got broken, he thought. You convinced yourself that it was fine, that you didn’t need to follow proper precautions all the time, that you were special or different. Seasoned dungoneers were supposed to check themselves over for riders when they left the dungeon, they were supposed to only use the party channel, there were hundreds of best practices — and they all added up to more time, which people were keen not to spend, especially not against one in a hundred chances.
But Alfric really was in a special situation, and it felt better to speak into the air. It felt more in the moment. This was basically not a dungeon at all. He was getting sloppy, and only slowly realizing it, which was the worst way to realize that you were getting sloppy.
said Verity with a happy smile.
The animals were grazing on the corkscrew grass, but they had all turned to watch the approaching humans. They reminded Alfric most closely of deer, though their heads were much larger, and they were bigger animals overall, six feet at the shoulder. Their chests were deep and muscular, their flanks a deep, rich, brown, and they looked built for speed in the way they moved. Long hair came down as a tail, and was quickly whipped from side to side in what seemed to be a nervous tic. Their eyes were on the sides of their heads, back from the long snout and prominent nostrils. They were still grazing, but also watching.
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Alfric took the creature in. Verity hadn’t explained what she was attempting to bring into existence, but if it was supposed to be a riding animal, he didn’t think that she’d done it. It seemed too tall to him, legs too angular, a creature of too much muscle. And it was so big, bigger than he thought it needed to be to carry a person.
Isra looked at him, perturbed for a moment, but it faded away quickly. She understood the need for being precise.
Verity touched the creature on the side of its head, and it bowed a bit lower to allow more of that. Up close, the black eyes were enormous.
Verity turned to look at her.
Verity’s good mood was quickly evaporating, and Alfric wished that Hannah were there. Hannah understood how to handle things like this, bad moods and criticism that wasn’t meant to be taken personally. Verity wasn’t actually in a bad mood yet, but she’d liked her little crater, and her weird animals, and she was losing that buoyancy.
Verity frowned at her.
said Alfric.
said Alfric.
said Verity. She was pouting a bit.
They set off, grass corkscrewing beneath their feet then bouncing back once they’d passed. Alfric enjoyed it enough that he was considering taking some out just to live in a little pot. He thought that Mizuki would enjoy it. But this, again, was a matter of protocol, a thing not to be done without quite a bit of caution. Any unique plant pulled from a dungeon — a clandle — was supposed to be carefully enclosed and then twice as carefully studied until its interactions with its environment were known. A number of ecological crises had happened because of plants that had been brought out with the best of intentions, some of which were still ongoing issues. Druids could handle that kind of thing, but it came at great expense, since finding every seed or rhizome was often difficult work.
But he thought that Mizuki would like it, and there weren’t many decorative plants around the house. Besides, they did have a druid. He would ask Isra later, perhaps after they were trying to see what they could take from the dungeon.
said Isra.
Verity gave him a look.
said Isra.
asked Pinion.
They reached the edge of the forest, and to Alfric’s delight, the trees behaved somewhat like the grass, reacting to their presence. Rather than curling up, the leaves seemed to expand, giving more canopy cover, as though worried that anything below would be a threat if given light. It meant that they were walking in shade among the trees, though a shade which didn’t extend out too far from where they were walking.
They were still walking in the direction of the smoke, and Alfric’s stomach was tightening. Verity was trying very hard not to make people, but her control over the dungeons was patchy at best. Minimal control was a far sight better than anything that any group of dungeoneers had ever had before, but the variability made the dungeons more fraught in some respects, as shown by prior dungeons being so incredibly difficult relative to their elevation.
The smoke was coming from a small clearing in the woods, a place where rocky ground had meant that no trees could find purchase. On a flat slab of rock, a small camp had been pitched.
The woman emerged from the tent when they were close enough to smell the fire, and Alfric’s hand immediately went to his sword, almost by instinct.
The woman didn’t look at them with the scowl and bared teeth of a dungeon-made humanoid though, she greeted them with a wave and a smile.