Dungeons Are Bad Business

Alisanne took a deep breath as she stepped through Crestheart’s front door and did her best to quell the flutter of nerves that assailed her. It was always the same; no matter how many times she challenged the dungeon, she was always scared as soon as she set foot inside. Would she get hurt? Or embarrass herself?

Her frequent runs had helped her overcome her normal fears, but now a new one had joined the mix and it gnawed at her as the door slid shut behind her.

What if I let Vera down?

Her kitrekin sponsor had assured her that she didn’t have to worry about such a thing, but Alisanne had seen the way other adventurers looked at sponsored competitors and didn’t want to be responsible for making people think less of the Quenching Bucket. It was probably a silly fear, but one she held all the same.

She’d promised to do her best, waking up hours earlier than normal to scour the dungeon’s guide and commit as many details to memory as she could. This version of Crestheart was far more complicated than every other version she’d competed in, with all sorts of secondary and tertiary traps and obstacles in rooms that Alisanne was going to be dealing with for the first time.

However, as different as it was, there were still some things that never changed, and Alisanne didn’t bother readying her clubs as she stepped into the first room. Instead, she fell flat onto the ground as soon as she heard the now-familiar skeletal laughter that preceded a barrage of hexes, and grinned as they flew by harmlessly overhead. One of the older adventurers at the guild had told her that [Dungeon Masters] were people too, and like anybody else they had tendencies that could be understood and exploited. For some reason, [Dungeon Master] Vales really liked to have his skeleton mages attack as soon as adventurers walked inside Crestheart.

Despite the quiet that lingered after the first attack, Alisanne didn’t move an inch. According to both her own experience and the dungeon guide, there’d be another two volleys before the next minions would appear, and Alisanne waited impatiently for them to happen.

When the final hex wisps dissipated on the tiles around her, Alisanne scurried back to her feet and brought up her clubs. The familiar sensation of the leather she’d wrapped around their handles helped her calm down, and she started moving as soon as she saw the slats in the walls slide open.

A tide of tiny ghosts poured out, each a mismatched hodgepodge of cubes and spheres with two knobby hands and burning blue or green eyes. The ghosts wailed in unison, screeching in a way that some adventurers in the guild said reminded them of a hungry infant’s late night cries.

They flooded toward her, raising their hands and increasing their volume, and Alisanne took a deep breath.

Game time.

Bringing back her right club, she activated [Kinetic Tempo] and swung hard. Like tearing through wet paper, the weapon moved through the ghosts with barely any resistance, and Alisanne followed her right club’s swing with one from her left. She felt stronger and faster than ever, and even though she knew that the coat on her back was merely a bit of cloth with a name hastily stitched onto the shoulder, she couldn’t help but think that it was somewhat responsible.

Her skill helped her keep her rhythm while she swept through the mass of ghosts, and also allowed her to keep an eye on the walls for the next appearance of the skeleton mages. They’d be back for another round of hexes. Alisanne was sure of it.

Sure enough, they popped up a few seconds later and sent another barrage of purple orbs into the room, but since most of the ghosts were gone Alisanne didn’t have much of a problem dodging them. She fought her way over to the slits in the walls the skeletons were hiding behind, and swung her clubs into each one, like she was a child playing Crush the Crocs again.

The skeletons were all vanquished with a single blow, and Alisanne gave the room a quick sweep before she moved on. There was a single shard of chaos in the far corner, and she hurried over to pick it up. Redeeming them wasn't worth a ton of fleurs, but every little bit helped.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Alisanne said quietly as she entered the next room and looked around for threats. A few frost elementals slid back and forth, their cuboid bodies making a faint swooshing sound with every lap.

Beyond those, though, Alisanne saw no threats, but looked down at the floor beneath her feet as she took her next steps. One of the things that Torres had mentioned in his guide was that there were a bevy of pressure switch-based traps in the newest version of Crestheart, and the [Fighter] had no desire to trigger any of them.

However, with her attention so focused on the floor in front of her feet, she failed to notice the movement above her head. It was only when her shadow grew larger and more circular that she realized that an enemy was coming from the ceiling.

She leapt back just as a four fingered, scaly hand dropped from the sky and flipped over on the ground. Its fingers tapping the floor, it scurried toward her, and Alisanne felt the cousin of the fear she felt every time she saw a spider above her bed during hot summer nights. Letting out a somewhat-less-than-dignified squeal, Alisanne brought her clubs together and activated [Steady Legs], her defensive skill. It wasn’t particularly powerful as far as defensive skills went, but Alisanne hadn’t been able to learn any others yet so it was the best she had.

When it was only a few feet away from her, the hand monster stopped moving and twitched before leaping at her with its fingers splayed out in a grabbing position. Alisanne thrust her left club forward, knocking the monster off its course. Then she walloped it with all her strength until it stopped moving, shivering at the sight of its demise.

“Gross. Gross. Gross.”

The dungeon [Announcer]’s voice cut in through the ceiling.

“Speak for yourself, child.”

Glaring up at where it sounded like the voice had come from and kicking the nearest frost elemental to the side, Alisanne headed deeper into the dungeon.

Breathing hard, Alisanne stopped in front of the altar and looked at the two statues. She grimaced and touched her side; one of the skeleton knights in the last room had gotten underneath her guard and scored a nasty blow. It wasn’t bleeding, but it ached like none other and the [Fighter] was sure that she was going to have a wicked bruise come tomorrow morning.

Here were the two statues – or rather, the idols, as the other adventurers were calling them – that would let her change her run if she wanted to. Her first instinct was to ignore them both and carry on. Richter Arnis had taken one and it’d caused him to fail his run! Surely she didn’t want to risk such a thing, right?

After all, she wanted to at least make it down to the third floor of the dungeon. She doubted that she’d be able to make it down to [Dungeon Champion] Alforde, especially since she was starting to accumulate little injuries here and there that were going to inhibit her ability to fight as they built up. But she still didn’t want to hinder herself unnecessarily if she could avoid it.

At the same time though, she couldn’t help but think that several of the people outside – who’d looked skeptical at the fact that she was sponsored and they weren’t – would be duly impressed if she managed to carry the little idol down to the third floor.

She looked up at the ceiling once again. “Um, excuse me? I have a rules question.”

There was a crackle and the [Announcer]’s voice filled the room once more. “Go ahead.”

“If I take that statue now, can I drop it later if I decide it’s holding me back too much.”

Everything was silent for a long moment.

“Yes, adventurer. That is fine.”

“Thank you,” Alisanne said as the voice disappeared to nothingness. That definitely lowered the risk.

She thought about her books for a moment. What would Alrick do in a situation like this? She smiled. That was an easy question to answer. He’d take the little statue until it bothered him and then drop it without a second thought.

Alisanne could do that too.

The statue was smooth and ever-so-slightly cool to the touch, and to her relief Alisanne didn’t feel any sort of weird strength sapping or nausea building in her stomach. It was just a statue.

However, it did mean that she wouldn’t be able to wield both clubs at the same time as easily, so she reluctantly returned her left weapon to her back and pressed on with just her right club at the ready.

The next few rooms were somewhat of a challenge, and due to only having half of her combat potential Alisanne took several more nasty hits. The skeletons, slimes, and ghosts that she’d faced off against so many times before all seemed faster and more ruthless than normal, and they moved in ways Alisanne hadn’t seen before. Part of her regretted taking the stupid little statue, but now that she’d carried it a few rooms her pride wouldn’t let her set it down and leave it behind. She'd carry it as far as she could, consequences be darned.

She found herself inside a hexagonal room, and immediately noticed that some of the bricks inside were a darker blue than the ones around them. Remembering Torres’ mention of traps, Alisanne took great care to avoid them as she walked into the room.

Behind her, the door slammed shut with an ominous weight, and Alisanne set down the statue so she could have access to both her clubs. She wasn’t sure what was going to attack her next, but knew that slamming doors in dungeons were generally a bad sign.

Much like the first room of the dungeon, the walls in front of her slid open to allow monsters to come out and attack. Unlike the first room of the dungeon though, these were all skeletons. Knights, archers, and mages all filed out into the room, and soon the air was thick with arrows and hexes.

Just dodging wouldn’t have been too hard – though a few arrows nicked her side here and there – but Alisanne also had to contend with the skeleton knights, who moved toward her in groups of three or four with their shields raised. They were stronger than usual, working together more diligently than Alisanne was used to, and smashing her way through like normal didn’t work.

A knight hit her in the back – dungeon minions had no sense of fair dueling, and didn’t wait for an adventurer to slowly deal with them one by one – and Alisanne tumbled forward. She bit her lip and tasted blood, idly wondering for the millionth time why she willingly came back here and threw herself into situations like this one. Her friends all thought she was crazy, and while her parents told her that they were proud of her too, she couldn’t help noticing the worry in their eyes when she came back injured.

Gonna have to go see a [Healer] before I go home.

Groaning, Alisanne rolled out of the way of a knight’s triumphant downward thrust and stopped the skeleton’s damnable rattling jaw with a [Club Toss]. The skill improved her power and accuracy, though it came at the cost of losing one of her weapons until she could pick it back up again. Eventually she wanted to learn [Boomerangify], which made weapons come back of their own accord after a throw, but the sole adventurer who could use it in the Oar's Crest guild had been gone on an assignment for weeks and Alisanne had no idea when he'd be back.

Alisanne stood up and wrapped both hands around her remaining club. The weapon was too short for most two-handed tactics she’d learned at the guild to be of much use, but she’d have an easier time giving her swings some extra oomph with a grip like this.

Swinging, yelling, and getting as good as she gave, Alisanne knocked the skeletons to pieces and sagged to catch her breath. Her reprieve was short-lived, as a second wave – this one even bigger than the last one, though composed entirely of mages – entered the room and the air was once again filled with hexes. Interestingly, some of these spells were blue, but Alisanne didn’t have the time or energy to wonder about what that meant as she ducked and dodged around them. It was enough to know that she didn’t want any to hit her.

Without the knights impeding her movement, Alisanne was able to work her way through the room without as much trouble, and the skeleton mages were as easy to beat as they ever were.

The last one fell, and Alisanne leaned back against the wall, her lungs burning and sweat pouring down her face.

To her horror though, the space behind her gave way and Alisanne tumbled back into a hidden room.

She got up, confused. There hadn’t been anything about any secret rooms on the first floor in Torres’ Guide.

Yet here she was.

Alisanne blew out through her nose and rolled her eyes.

So much for “Dungeon Insights You Can Trust”.

The floor was all the same color, and there was a treasure chest in the center, which Alisanne approached cautiously.

There was a sign above it that said, simply: Open at your own risk. You might find more than treasure inside.

A mimic, then? Alisanne tapped on the corners of the chest a few times with her club, which was a mimic-testing strategy she’d learned from the older adventurers at the guild, but when it didn’t quiver or move she went ahead and popped it open.

Instead of gold, silver and jewels – like she’d hoped – there was a stack of coupons inside. That was a little disappointing, but not the end of the world. Alisanne picked them up and flipped through them with a smile. She recognized almost all the places, and even The Quenching Bucket was included.

Her sponsor’s coupon included a free small coffee with any baked good purchase. Alisanne tucked that one away into her pocket where she was sure to remember to use it, and then turned back around. The rest could be handled later.

She found herself staring at a tall, mustachioed man dressed in a green tunic. Silver leaves adorned the article of clothing, and the man held an old bow in his hands. He was smiling, but there was no joy in his strange, silver eyes.

The [Fighter] clutched her club tightly and took a step back. Where had he come from? Why hadn’t she heard him enter or appear?

“Congratulations on being the first adventurer to find this room,” the man said. “I hear those coupons are worth a decent number of fleurs. Unfortunately, opening the chest to take them is the condition for bringing me up from downstairs, so you’ll probably end up wishing that you’d left them alone after all. They’re a bit of a consolation prize, frankly. Now, I’m afraid I’m rather bored, so let’s see if you can give me a bit of entertainment, eh? Don’t worry, don’t worry. I won’t do any permanent damage.”

Alisanne activated [Steady Legs] and tried to drum up the necessary inner fire to fight this new foe. The skill barely did anything. If only she wasn’t so tired!

The figure started whistling – Alisanne recognized the tune as an old country song – and raised his bow. Alisanne stepped behind the chest so that she could use it as cover when he fired.

Alas, the arrow sprouted a face and started laughing as soon as it left the bow’s string. It twisted and turned as it flew through the air, moving in a way no arrow had any business moving. It hit her in the chest like a hammer, knocking her down to the floor.

Before she could even think about getting up, another arrow hit her in the side, and a third struck her right shoulder.

Roaring, Alisanne forced herself to unsteady feet, brought up her club like it was an axe and she was about to split some wood, and charged toward the archer.

Another arrow hit her stomach, and two more hit her legs, but Alisanne kept going. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she told herself that Alrick wouldn’t stop for something like this.

Neither would she.

She was sponsored. She had to keep going.

The man’s expression changed, and a glimmer of amusement twinkled in his argent eyes.

More arrows came, and Alisanne tried to bat them away with club, only for her efforts to be insufficient.

She fell again six feet away from the green clad foe, having not struck a single blow against him.

Having not moved, the strange man stopped whistling and shrugged as he regarded Alisanne.

“Darn. I was hoping for more.”

He strode across the room in a few bounding steps and nocked another arrow, which he aimed between Alisanne’s eyes.

A voice she recognized – it belonged to [Dungeon Master] Vales – filled the room.

“Nock. Remember the deal.”

The man frowned. “You’re no fun, blue. Fine, fine, fine. Little [Fighter], do you surrender?”

Alisanne slumped back, feeling the all-too-familiar frustration of a lost run.

“I quit,” she said. Furious purpose bubbled in the back of her mind as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She’d have to figure out some way to better handle ranged attacks. Having such a glaring weakness was unacceptable.

Maybe she’d take another one of the guild’s [Bubble Shield] classes or something.

The man held out his hand to help the [Fighter] up, though he felt oddly light as Alisanne pulled herself up. He stared into her eyes and gave her a pat on the shoulder.

“You've got heart, child. Most adventurers would have given up after the first arrow. What’s your name?”

Alisanne introduced herself, and the archer bowed deeply. He gestured to the name on Alisanne’s sleeve.

“I see that others already recognize your potential, but allow me to add my voice to theirs. Keep getting stronger, Alisanne Henret. If I might be so bold, I suggest you find a better class too. Your current one is limited and coarse. It's holding you back.”

Nodding silently and feeling a strange tingle in the base of her stomach, Alisanne dusted herself off and stood. She made sure that she had all the coupons tucked away and hadn’t lost any, then left the dungeon.

She looked around at the adventurers waiting outside, and was relieved that none of them wore scornful expressions.

It was a small thing in the grand scheme of things, but it felt like a big thing right then and there.

Alisanne's Character Sheet:

Alisanne Henret:

Primary Class: Fighter (Self), Level 15

Secondary Class: Scrimping Saver (Self), Level 11

Might: 18

Wit: 9

Faith: 14

Determination: 13

Ambition: 7

Greed: 5

Focus: 8

Idealism: 8

Bravery: 6

Adventurousness: 5