NOVEL WEB Chapter 6: Secret of Dungeons
"Can you help me get to the next room without the adventurers noticing?" I said to the vine.
The vine bobbed again and pointed again with the tip of its vine to the hole it had come out of. "Alright, please take me to the next room."
The vine, I named it Bob, after this was excitedly bobbing the tip of its vine wrapped its vine around my waist and pulled me into the hole that it had broken into this room out of.
It slithered back up in the hole pulling me back and it took a great deal of coaching myself to remain with the vine while I was pulled closer and closer into the hole. The little flower, I named Biter decided that there was no way it was getting left behind, come over and climbed onto my shoulders resting its blossom on top of my head.
As we slipped into the opening, I saw a hollow space nestled between the outer brick wall, overrun with thick vines. Bob expertly maneuvered me through the narrow passage, navigating sharp turns and maintaining a brisk pace until we emerged through another hole, stepping into a new chamber. My gaze swept across the vast room, where the entrance loomed far across the expanse, its distance accentuated by the towering walls. The ceiling soared high above us, adorned with pointed, luminescent rocks that jutted out from both the walls and the ceiling.
In the center of the room, a roaring fire crackled, casting flickering shadows on the stone columns that stood like sentinels around it. A group of twenty goblins gathered around the fire, seated on crudely fashioned logs, busily cooking a sizable piece of meat. Their attire was a mismatched collection of leather rags, stitched together with uneven and clumsy seams, giving them a ragtag appearance.
Along the periphery of the room, I spotted rudimentary huts constructed from sticks bound with grass and vines, forming a makeshift goblin village. Surrounding this settlement was a haphazard fence made from dried vines and branches, offering a semblance of protection. Tall torches, crafted from salvaged metal and glass jars, flickered along the fence, remnants of past adventurers long forgotten. Although I thought that the adventures said that this was a new dungeon.
[Dungeons like this one remain exposed at the whim of the dungeon master, who decides when to allow entry, while at times they may lie dormant, their entrances hidden beneath the earth, inaccessible to all.]
Ah, I get it now! But hey, what should I even call you? What's your name?
[I fail to see the need to call me anything.]
It will make it easier for me to talk with you.
[Then I almost certainly do not want a name.]
If you don't choose a name, then I will choose one for you.
[If you really need to label me, go ahead and call me Bane.]
Why Bane? I mean, come on, that's a pretty plain name, right?
[It simply means to create a little chaos or irritation, you know, just my everyday objectives.]
Suits you. I have a question for you.
[I don't remember agreeing to talk with you and answer all of your questions.]
Just a quick question.
[Fine, I'll indulge you with one question, but after that, do us all a favor and go talk to your plants or whatever it is you do when you're not pestering me.]
So, what's the deal with the monsters I take down in the dungeon? I get that some humanoids get zapped back to the entrance, but do the mobs actually kick the bucket for good? And seriously, what's the point of even having a dungeon if that's the case?
[That's technically two questions, but I'll pretend I didn't notice this time. Any mob shackled to a dungeon gets a fresh start after twenty-four hours, or just three if a new batch of clueless adventurers stumbles in and triggers the dungeon's regeneration. These mobs can either pop into existence within the dungeon or pledge their miserable existence to it, making them practically immortal—unless they decide to kick the bucket from old age. In exchange for their dungeon-dwelling lives, these creatures are obligated to hunt down adventurers, rack up experience points, bulk up, and expand their territory for the dungeon master. They also contribute to the dungeon's twisted growth, which is a bit sentient and hungry for chaos. The dungeon lures in adventurers with shiny loot, which is basically bait for its gaping maw—aka the entrance. Meanwhile, the dungeon master plays puppet master, ensuring everything runs like a well-oiled machine. Once they've established their reign, they bring in fresh mobs and floor bosses, while the dungeon supplies them with gear, resources, territory, influence, and a little army to do their dirty work.]
You're saying the dungeon is alive? And we're currently inside it?!
[You've got it! All dungeons that suddenly appear in this world are alive and hungry for adventure, well adventurers anyway. They just keep expanding, looking for challengers until the dungeon is bursting at the seams with mobs. When the monsters get too rowdy for the dungeon to handle, the dungeon expels them and they wreak havoc on the outside world, slaughtering and plundering villages, all because no one bothered to challenge the dungeon.
Perched atop a crumbling brick on a wall, I felt the air thrum with anticipation as the adventurers' footsteps echoed ominously toward the entryway. Sinister vines, like serpents awakened from slumber, began their slow, deliberate crawl toward the intruders. The adventurers swung their torches wildly, illuminating the creeping tendrils, which recoiled with a shrill, piercing wail that sliced through the stillness of the night.
Suddenly, a horde of twenty goblins abandoned their roasting meat and burst back through the fence gate, their eyes glinting with excitement as they slammed it shut behind them. A deafening horn blared from within the goblin village, summoning a swarm of goblins clad in makeshift armor, emerging from their ramshackle huts. They scrambled up rickety stairs to a roughly constructed platform, where others gathered around a flickering fire. With deft hands, they dipped arrows into a viscous gel before igniting them in the flames. The goblins passed the fiery projectiles upward to the goblins looking over the wall. Soon, the air was thick with the scent of smoke as they notched their bows, unleashing a barrage of blazing arrows toward the unsuspecting heroes.
Coming Next Time: Three Fighting Sides
Let's get this battle underway!