Dungeons Are Bad Business

Crouching down next to a hole in the wall of a first floor room, Vee sighed before pinching his thumb and index finger together to activate [Shape Ectoplasm]. He gathered a few handfuls of ectoplasm and spread it like paste over the damaged section while telling Cecil to mark the room down for further repairs after the day’s runs were done. For now the name of the game was getting Crestheart back into runnable condition as quickly as possible, and that meant quick and dirty fixes were good enough.

Behind him, Do and the rest of the [Dungeon Maintainers] were hard at work repairing the damage left behind by the previous adventurer. The fiends moved quickly, chattering to each other as they held tiles in place, replaced broken traps with new ones, and cleared debris that would have otherwise prevented minions from getting out into the dungeon's rooms.

Vee finished spreading his ectoplasm and stood back up slowly. He’d been at this for just over half an hour, and his knees and thighs were displeased with the amount of bending down and standing up he’d been forced to do in that time. Beyond that, he was starting to think that he’d let the [Spirit Blaster] off too easily; how could one adventurer do so much damage? More importantly, why would one adventurer do so much damage? He didn’t think there was anything nefarious at play here – any thought of sabotage was nonsensical – but was frustrated at how little respect his dungeon had been given.

At least the ectoplasm platforms were easy to repair, he thought bitterly as he attached new ectoplasm to replace the parts that’d been melted off. Once again, the fixes weren’t pretty, but he tested them with his own weight and was satisfied that they’d hold up for future runs. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Vee continued on to the next room in need of repair.

All told, it took the [Dungeon Master] and his fiends nearly an hour to get the dungeon back into decent shape and ready for the next runs, and by the time they were done several adventurers outside were starting to grumble. They paced back and forth muttering, and when Vee walked past them to head back up into the tower he heard a few cracks about ‘a really disappointing lack of professionalism’ and ‘how the [Dungeon Master] doesn’t even care about the adventurer experience’. Both types of comments incensed Vee, but he bit his tongue and pushed past them without letting his temper get the better of him. A universal truth of existence is that there would always be loudmouthed jerks saying stupid things that had no basis in reality, and as someone who actually had things to do he didn’t have time to waste trying to convince them otherwise. He knew how much he cared about the experience Crestheart offered, and decided that would be enough for him.

“We good to go?” Reginald asked as Vee sat back down at his console.

Vee nodded. “Yeah, though we’re definitely a good bit behind schedule for the day now. Hopefully we won’t have another adventurer like that [Spirit Blaster] for a while, eh?”

“Your lips to Gawain’s ears. Alright, here we go boss. Ahem. Welcome to Crestheart, adventurer! Enter the depths if you dare!”

The next adventurer was a thin, frizzy kitrekin who was clearly frustrated by having had to wait and slammed the doors open to start his run. He charged into the first room and laid about with great ferocity, seemingly oblivious to receiving injuries while dealing with the dungeon’s minions. Was that something Vee could exploit?

A check of the kitrekin’s application revealed that the adventurer was a level 15 [Brawler] and Vee racked his brain. Did those classholders ever have any sort of reciprocal damage skills? Like [Retaliate] or [Blood to Blood]? He couldn’t remember; there were simply too many adventurers who came through the dungeon on a regular basis for him to recall all of their various skills.

Regardless, he decided to go ahead and activate [Ectoplasmic Surge] in the next room, and watched the kitrekin get even further injured by attacking recklessly. It definitely didn’t seem like he had any sort of skill bolstering his performance as he took damage either, and Vee decided that in the interest of expediency he’d activate [Ectoplasmic Surge] over and over until he defeated the adventurer. It wasn’t efficient in terms of his refined ectoplasm stores, but that was fine. Of late he’d had more ectoplasm cubes than he knew what to do with; he’d probably been too cautious with them until now.

It took two more rooms, but eventually the kitrekin gave up, and Reginald hurried him out of the dungeon.

Vee looked back at the agents behind him. Neither one of them seemed bothered by the fact that he’d used [Ectoplasmic Surge] so many times, and thankfully there was no talk of fines while the fiends reset the dungeon. Vee couldn’t help but wonder if the reason why was simply that he hadn’t said anything about using extra skill charges. Were the rules really so soft? He didn’t feel like asking to try and find out.

Instead, Vee gestured impatiently at Reginald to start the next run and settled back in his chair. He looked through the magnifying crystal, focused on his next opponent. She was a diminutive salamander holding a spear…no, a paintbrush that was taller than she was. Thick black ink coated its tip, and left tiny puddles in her wake as she cautiously entered Crestheart.

“Reila Cahn, level 20 [Inksurfer],” Reginald said. “Doesn’t look like much, does she?”

That was true. The salamander was slow in how she tackled the dungeon, carefully examining floor tiles and walls for hidden traps and cautious in how she engaged with Crestheart’s minions. Her attacks sent waves of ink across each room, and occasionally she rode atop them to deliver the finishing melee strike with her paintspear. It was an entirely different approach to the previous kitrekin’s, and Vee found himself increasingly frustrated as her run dragged on.

He wanted to grab the magnifying crystal and tell her to get on with it, and breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief when she was overwhelmed by a barrage of arrows from Nock and gave up early on the second floor.

Thankfully the runs started speeding up after that, since there was a stretch of adventurers who were clearly new to dungeon sports and all had primary class levels in the low teens. None of them managed to get to the end of the first floor, except for a human [Battle Bugler].

The screeching brass notes from his instrument proved to be rather sharp in more ways than one.

At the end of the day, Vee looked at the list of adventurers who had yet to complete their runs. There were seventy seven left, which was probably too many to get through in one day but definitely not too many to finish in two. That was good; the stress of the circuit runs was much higher than normal and he was desperate to return to his regular routine.

After counting up the day’s earnings – just over sixteen hundred silver fleurs on account of higher than usual minion replacement and dungeon repair costs, alongside a bumper crop of eight shards of chaos – Vee and his friends started making their way to Brice Gilbert’s shop to check on the dunpla figure situation.

Despite the hour – it was half past eighth evening bell – plenty of people congregated around the Westown gate and the shops near it. A handpainted sign next to the gate read, Oar’s Crest Night Market. Vee had never heard of such a thing, but his heart started beating faster all the same.

It was lovely.

A mixture of locals and out-of-towners talked and laughed together, and the smell of grilled meat, sweets, and alcohol was heavy in the warm evening air. Even the [City Guards] seemed relaxed, lounging back against their posts and watching the events unfolding with warm, albeit wary, expressions.

Stopping for a moment to buy a fried meat bun to satisfy his growling stomach, Vee looked around the street, a smile blossoming on his face. Kai hadn’t yet reached this part of town with his planter boxes and other bits of verdant construction, but there was undeniably new life sprouting here, as evidenced by the fact that the [Dungeon Master] had no idea who had put the whole thing together. If he did, he would have thanked them profusely.

A young woman with a guitar sat in front of a store with a guitar, mixing strums, fingerpicking melodies, and rhythmic hits against her instrument’s body as she sang a warm song mixing languages Vee didn’t recognize. Even though he didn’t understand the words, the sense of love, loss, and hope for the future that words embodied echoed in his heart and soul.

Someone from the crowd of listeners standing beside her stepped forward and dropped a handful of coins into the hat she’d set on the ground. After a moment’s hesitation, Vee stepped forward and added a bronze fleur of his own.

“Your song was lovely,” he said.

“Thank you,” the woman said in a bright, lilting voice. “You’re very handsome.”

She winked at Vee and he hurried away, his cheeks burning. Something that sounded oddly like a satisfied snort up above his head got his attention, but when he looked up there was nobody around who it might have come from…only lingering shadows and a hint of spice so faint that Vee suspected he was imagining things.

Another oddity.

The unofficial party went on for the next two blocks, and Vee gave the meat pie in his stomach some additional company in the form of a fried chicken skewer and some sort of honey glazed vegetable. He also bought a bag of Joleimna’s caramel apple candy to eat later.

Other musicians were playing too, though thankfully the [Battle Bugler] was nowhere to be seen. Beyond that, [Artists] of all kinds – including Wureini Rufh, a salamander [City Guard] Vee interacted with pretty often – were selling their wares too. There were drawings, paintings, prints, clay pots, small metal statues, and more. Some pieces were more functional than others, and there were a few enchanted artifacts too. Most of those were low quality pieces of junk, like rings that promised to tell the wearer’s mood by changing the color of their inset stones, or bottles that promised to keep liquids hot or cold indefinitely, which was a feat Vee had yet to find replicated outside of expensive [Enchanter] work.

“We should buy some of these and use them for dungeon rewards,” Alforde said, enthralled by a hand carved bone pipe that could draw any sort of smoke animal the user wanted, so long as they could describe its features in three words or less. Judging by the bevy of blobby shapes hovering around the tent, Vee didn’t get the feeling that the pipe was particularly effective.

Still, Alforde had a point, he decided. It would be cool to offer local handiwork as a reward to those adventurers who cleared the dungeon, though he wondered if local runners would be interested or if it would be best for those who came to challenge from out of town. Maybe they could adopt some sort of voucher system, where victors could choose their prize from a list of available options? Or maybe implement some sort of lottery system, where rewards were distributed randomly? Such things were loudly bemoaned in the few [Dungeon Master] resources Vee had read, but they also seemed to be fairly popular.

Ideas of all sorts floated around Vee’s brain as he and his friends reached Brice’s shop. It was still bright inside, and Vee saw the [Toy Maker] sitting at his bench in the back. That was good.

Opening the door, Vee cupped his hands to his mouth and called out.

“Mister Gilbert, it’s Vee Vales! Do you have a moment? I need to talk to you about our stores of dunpla figures.”

The [Toy Maker] waved for Vee to come inside. “Come on in, Mister Vales.”

Main Character Sheets (Unchanged From Last Chapter):

Vee Vales:

Primary Class: G-h-o-s-t M-a-e-s-t-r-o? (Locksmagister University), Level 33

Secondary Class: Dungeon Master (Oar’s Crest), Level 24

Tertiary Class: Guy-Who-Takes-Things-WAY-Too-Far (Self), Level 7

Might: 15

Wit: 41

Faith: 25

Adventurousness: 7

Ambition: 16

Plotting: 19

Charisma: 17

Devious Mind: 29

Leadership: 22

Guts: 14

Intimidating Presence: 11

Citizenship: 24

Public Relations: 8

Determination: 7

Persuasiveness: 6

Bargaining: 4

Patience: 3

Competitive Spirit: 1

Pragmatism: 1

<3<3 Infatuation <3<3

Alforde Armorsoul:

Primary Class: Hammer Specialist (Self), Level 6

Secondary Class: Right-hand man (Vee Vales), Level 18

Tertiary Class: Dungeon Champion (Oar’s Crest), Level 18

Additional Class: Glaciernaut (Sacha Silverblade), Level 11

Might: 58

Wit: 15

Faith: 28

Adventurousness (Bound – Vee Vales): 9

Endurance: 33

Intimidating Presence: 15

Heart of a Champion: 14

Citizenship (Bound – Vee Vales): 9

Vigilance: 11

Vanity: 2

Single-Mindedness: 1

Reginald:

Primary Class: Core Spirit (Unknown), Level ???

#$&Q#$)(@#$#@#$%!@#$##%#%()@#$**@@##

Secondary Class: Loudmouth (Self), Level 43

Tertiary Class: Majordomo (Vee Vales), Level 21

Additional Class: Announcer (Vee Vales), Level 14

Additional Class: Hyperthymesiac (Self), Level 5

Might: 1

Wit: 37

Faith: 17

Ambition: 28

Greed: 24

Deceptiveness: 27

Manipulativeness: 42

$#&*!@!!: !!!

Loyalty: 47 (+1)

Patience: 11

Irritability: 25

Remorsefulness: 17

Expository Prowess: 23

#%$Pragmatism*#$: @#61$5

Hop@#!! @#$@!@#

@#$@%%^

#4^5#*&_!+++#(@$#

Citizenship (Bound – Vee Vales): 9