Dungeon Born

by Dakota Krout

  “About time, those bookworms probably only slithered out of their tent because they were tempted with a new toy.” Josh muttered in a voice like gravel. He rolled his thick shoulders, making his armor creak.

  They meandered their way back to the dungeon, Hans promising to meet up with Father Richard again soon. An unfamiliar man was waiting for them, his slim frame raising questions as to his status as a Mage in Dale’s mind. He focused on the man with his new ability, but the energy inside of what was certainly a Mage was so confusing as to be beyond comprehension, actually making Dale nauseous.

  “That’s what Mana looks like.” Hans muttered to Dale, seeing the odd green tint to his face. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I hear you have a quandary for me! I cannot wait to begin! Shall we?” The slim man raced down the stairs, bounding down them with no apparent concern for his safety. His words had an odd, slow inflection to them, as if each were savored before he spoke them, clashing with his rapid movements.

  “That’s what near physical invulnerability looks like.” Hans dryly muttered again to Dale. “Really, try not to think about it. They are just… too weird.” The Team followed at a more measured pace, meeting the Mage as he was staring at the door. They settled in for a wait, which is what they got. The man muttered, gestured, and studied a book he had with him. He peered at the stone touching, sniffing, and even licking it once or twice.

  “Freaking weirdo.” Hans muttered, earning a glare from the slim man, who suddenly shot up the stairs at reckless, astounding speed.

  “What? Did I offend him, ya think?” Hans nervously asked as the others looked on in confusion. They glanced up just in time to see the man suddenly jump from the rim of what had once been the simple crevasse opening. A metal object gleamed in his hands as his back arched, swinging downward with a primal scream as he swung a pickaxe. The pickaxe head shattered, exploding in his hands as it impacted the stone, the shaft splintering into sawdust from the inhuman force behind the swing.

  The slim man landed lightly, nodding sagely as if he had confirmed a great and profound secret. Lifting the splintered remains of the pick head, he examined it for a few minutes before turning, exposing shredded clothing with untouched flesh underneath.

  “Yup! It’s cursed earth.” He proclaimed cheerfully. “Not getting through that too easily!”

  He started walking away, humming, when Craig stopped him. “Can you tell us a bit more please? We have to report to Frank.”

  “Oh sure, it is stone that has been reinforced with earth corruption, with the basic Essence removed!” The man sounded nearly giddy at having a sample to study, “Not easy to do, I tell you what!” He started off again, humming a happy song.

  Craig was turning red in his effort to remain polite, “Is there a way through, good sir? There are many people awaiting entry to the training grounds below.”

  The Mage turned, startled, as if he had forgotten they existed. “Hmm? Oh, you can break it if you use enough Mana, but I don’t think you will find a willing Mage. Also, it tends to drain all the Essence out of whatever is thrown against is, so I wouldn’t recommend trying to break it yourselves.”

  Hans was a bit more abrupt with the distracted man, “Oi! How do we get in?”

  “Well, I imagine you’ll just have to wait for it to vanish. After all, if it just randomly appeared, it’ll likely vanish the same way.” With that unhelpful advice the Mage skittered up the stairs on all fours and jogged away.

  “Frank isn’t going to like this.” Steve sing-sang fretfully, adjusting his bow and quiver. “I call not it!” He shouted the last words.

  A chorus of ‘not it!’ followed this, except from a confused looking Dale.

  “What?” Dale looked around the circle of now-happy faces.

  “Thank you for volunteering to be the one to tell Frank.” Steve patted Dale on the arm, a grin on his normally stony face.

  “Meet us for lunch when you are done!” They walked up the stairs and away, laughing at Dale’s misfortune.

  No choice but to be the sacrificial victim for them, Dale returned to the Guild tent and waited for an audience with Frank. Roughly twenty minutes passed before he was ushered inside to make his report. When he finished, Frank heaved a sigh and nodded, rubbing his forehead.

  “Ah, I see. Don’t worry too much, lad. We knew the dungeon was getting more difficult. Think of this as a short vacation before your mornings become far more dangerous. Now how about you-” Frank looked at Dale for the first time since he had entered and did a double take. “You already have a meridian open? Good for you Dale! Congratulations.”

  “Oh. Thank you. I didn’t realize it was a big deal until it was over, the guys just walked me through what to do.” Dale blushed a bit at the unexpected praise.

  “We don’t advertise what a meridian can do because it is dangerous to open when you are not ready for it. Imagine someone doing that and having corrupted Essence.” Frank shuddered at the thought, Dale did not comprehend the idea until Frank continued, “Think of it like this: Suddenly, your heart is surrounded in stone, too heavy to beat; your lungs fill with water; Or the blood in your veins turn to fire. Bad, bad idea. Better to let people think long life and superhuman strength is a side effect of reaching a higher rank. We don’t tell people until they are ready for it, got that?””

  “Yes, sir.” Dale was then shooed out, moving to go get lunch with the others.

  The team spent the remainder of the day training, the others taking turns sparring with Dale. Having only a bit over a month of experience fighting rabbits and mushrooms, he did terribly. Realizing the error in their ways, they began with the most basic of basics; teaching him the proper way to hold his Morningstar. From that point forward, it was decided, Dale would take turns sparring after lunch with someone so he could become an actually good fighter, instead of just a subpar stick swinger.

  Dale was able to fight for several hours, and was amazed that he could continue without getting exhausted as was normal for him. While he did not win a single match, he was able to continue until they called for him to stop, round after round. Confused at first, he finally remembered what he had been told about opening his heart meridian, and felt great joy at the already apparent effects. Dale was overjoyed that this huge increase in stamina was the result of opening just one meridian, he was now ravenously awaiting the chance to see what would happen when the rest were open.

  He made good progress in learning to wield his Morningstar that day, but was nowhere near to mastering even this basic weapon. Understandably, picking up a weapon and suddenly being good with it wasn’t realistic, it was a childish and lazy fantasy. Having proper form and being able to maximize your usage of a weapon took an obscene amount of work, it wasn’t a magical appearance of talent. Even using a memory stone only taught you how to do something properly, it didn’t hone your muscles and reaction times, it didn’t allow you to bypass strength training and endurance building. Dale couldn’t imagine how long it would take to learn how to use something as complex as a sword in actual combat. Whack your enemy with a spiked ball on a stick? Perfect.

  Even learning to use his shield as more than an accessory was harder than he thought it should be. Practicing without the enchanted buckler taught him that you couldn’t just accept whatever blow came down, you needed to then angle it away. A heavy blow nearly breaking his arm taught him that you also need to try to dodge at least every once in a while. Getting his legs swept out from under him, as he thought of all this, taught the very important lesson of keeping your eyes and mind on your target.

  Dozens of these small lessons began building into talent, and huge bruises. When he could finally not get up on his own weakly waving his arms in a sad little attempt to roll over, the men relented and sent him off to take a bath in the cold mountain stream, calling after him to ensure he cleaned his reeking armor.

  After dinner they each sat together and cultivated their respective elements. Dale and Craig sat on a sla
b of stone while Hans sat in the center of a ring of fire, sweating profusely. Josh was up to his neck in the river, eyes closed and shivering in the snow-fed mountain stream, while Steve danced around to find the strongest breezes. Wind was never in short supply on a mountain, of course.

  The next few days followed this pattern for Dale, disappointedly checking the dungeon each morning, getting beat on after lunch, and cultivating heavily in the evening. They woke up on the fourth daybreak to excited people awaiting the Portal Mages imminent arrival.

  “They should be here within the hour!”

  “I can’t wait to see my kids!”

  “A hot bath and a good meal in the capital by next week!”

  Dale was a bit nonplussed at these swarming, cheering people. Were the mountains really so bad? A young messenger ran up to him and informed him that his presence was requested by the Guild Master. He followed the boy to the large tent, and was quickly shown in. A large map and table had been acquired from some unknown locale, several people were talking in low voices while pointing at the map.

  “Oh, good. Dale, looking at this map, can you tell me where you’d prefer to have the portal set? It is a fairly permanent system once it is built, made of Inscribed stone, metal and gems. Very heavy. Large enough to bring a couple wagons through at a time as well.” Frank offhandedly muttered, “Big-ass eyesore too.”

  Dale joined him in looking at the map, pointing out a good spot. They discussed the pros and cons of the location, but eventually all agreed that the spot was a good one. Some campers would need to shuffle around, but it was easily defensible and at the top of a small hill, which should keep it in a good location no matter the weather.

  “Good choice, now we need to talk about how you can make a profit from this.” Frank began seriously.

  Dale, thinking of how good the Guild had treated him so far, started by saying, “Well, I was thinking a standard lease would-”

  Waving his hands to stop Dale, Frank cried, “No! No, they’d love that far too much! You need to make a percentage profit, else you are making coppers on the gold here. Please, I’ll help you make your argument for the best deal, so when they start making offers, demand a hard ten percent. You won’t get it, but take no less than five percent profit of travel cost or they are robbing you. Remember, this is your land, and they really want to put a portal here. Nothing like a good training place for a prince or noble to make them grease their coin purse and slo-o-owly pry it open.” The evil chuckle at the end made Dale look at Frank a bit oddly.

  “I suppose that makes sense.” Dale was again confused as to why Frank was helping him make profit off his own Guild.

  “You will need that money in order to stand being around them. You’ll see.” Frank ominously promised at Dale’s blank look.

  ~Sixteen~

  A caravan of wagons pulled to the outskirts of the still-growing dungeon camp, and officious people stepped out, looking down on the dirty men that were surrounding them with loopy grins on their faces. With a sniff, one man moved forward to greet Frank, they moved into the Guild’s tent to discuss logistics. Dale was waiting for them there, upon seeing him the officious man curled his lip in a sneer.

  “What is this fishy doing in here?” the man spat. Strange, but when other people said ‘fishy’, it often seemed affectionate. This man saw him only as his cultivation rank, as such an inferior person that he might as well have been an animal.

  “He’s here to negotiate the cost of a portal in the area.” Frank grimaced, making ‘told you so’ glances in Dale’s direction.

  “Why?” He scoffed, smoothing away imagined wrinkles from his robes, “How could a newborn like him understand the complexities of associated cost in intra-dimensional travel?”

  “Mm. More to the point Dale owns the land around here, so I mean more the monetary cost of you opening a portal here.” Frank managed to get out with a straight face.

  “Oh? The landowner, him?” He glanced disparagingly at the poor, sweat-stained quality of Dale’s clothes. “I suppose we could say, what, ten silver a month? A small fortune to the likes of you as I understand it. Not much around here, is there?” He turned back to Frank like the deal was finished, “Where can I get a proper meal around here?”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of fifteen percent profit from all usage of the portal.” Dale calmly announced, controlling his anger at this treatment.

  “Pah!” The man laughed aloud scathingly, as he turned around, pretending he had forgotten Dale’s presence, “Where do you find these recruits, Frank? He’d make a better jester than businessman.” Coldly turning toward Dale, “I’ll give you fifteen silver a month and you’ll be grateful that I bothered to give you anything, damn it.”

  “Fifteen percent and free usage for myself and all goods I care to take with me.” Dale countered just as coldly, upping his offer.

  “I could incinerate you with a blink of my eye.”

  “Please don’t start a war, James.” Frank begged softly.

  Thinking he meant figuratively, James sneered at Frank again. “I think we will just place the portal further away, then.” He turned to leave.

  “Best of luck.” Dale voiced in a dry tone while Frank chuckled.

  “A few hundred feet will not hamper my business any.” James claimed, suspiciously looking at them.

  “Then we’ll say, I don’t know,” Dale started, pretending to be desperate before laughing and looking him directly in the eye, “Fifteen percent and free usage for myself, friends, and all goods I care to take with me.”

  “Brat!” James roared furiously, “I just said I would move off the land you own! Surely, the next landowner will be more open to a portal on his land.”

  “Oh, well, in that case; best of luck.” Dale repeated. “Also, please do not call me Shirley. The name is Dale.”

  James left the tent in a slightly confused, but fully angry, huff, looking to find someone who owned land in the area. Dale and Frank sat down shaking their heads. Frank apologized for the behavior James had shown, then they began eating lunch, talking about training techniques and cultivation. ‘Oh, and how did Dale like his team?’ ‘They were good people!’ ‘Oh, that’s good, any issues?’ In a rage, James stormed back in, eyes flashing.

  He shoved a finger at Dale, “You own the entire mountain?! That’s bullshit!”

  “It is accurate, though.” Frank mildly stated.

  Dale responded around a mouthful of sandwich, equally bland, “True, Guild Master.”

  “One gold a month, which is the best offer I will make!” James puffed up, red in the face.

  “He was quite rude when he got here, wasn’t he?” Dale ignored James, talking to Frank directly. “He isn’t getting any politer. We are eating, sir.”

  “Fine! We will set up off the mountain! Make people climb for a day, what does it matter to me?!” James yelled.

  “Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Frank grunted.

  “I agree, a very bad idea.” Dale agreed that it was indeed a bad idea.

  In a high pitched tone, James screeched, “Stop that! I am your better, F-ranked scum, I will not allow you to swindle me!”

  Eyes flashing, Dale rose up from his seat. “Just. My. Elder. Good luck getting business you ‘elderly’ asshole, people trying to climb a mountain that is impassable in winter, which is… a month away? Yup, a month. You know what? No! I like it here. I have no issue staying, and everyone else can god-damned walk. I have no need of a portal; I refuse your business! Get off my mountain, I will not rent my land to you.”

  Something very odd happened then, James began protesting, but his arms and legs turned and he started walking away, screaming in impotent rage all the while. Dale followed, wide-eyed to see what was happening, a group of people gathered to see the man grab a horse in passing and ride off, still cursing and shrieking in frustration.

  “What the infernal hell?” Dale breathed.

  Frank passed Dale a nonchalant chunk
of knowledge, “That would be the effect of being the magically enforced landowner of this mountain. Any citizen of this Realm - under the political rank of a Duke - would be forced to leave if you told them to. You cannot force someone to stay, or to do things for you, but you can obviously make them leave. In a brilliant yet uncomprehending move of forethought, you bought this from two Realms; meaning there are two Kingdoms of people that would need to obey the command you just gave him.”

  “Well. Damn.” Dale turned to Frank as he made a realization, “Hey! Is that why you have been so helpful to me?”

  “Nah, I’m just a polite person. I’m definitely this nice to everyone, Heck, I let random people into the Guild all the time.” Frank grinned. “Then I let them come to me, the Guild leader, any time they have a question.”

  Dale rolled his eyes, “I get it, I get it!”

  A lady from the caravan walked over, eyes flashing. “What was that about? What just happened to James?”

  “Ah... He was told to leave the property by the landowner, Ma’am. He was quite rude, and insulted the landowner repeatedly. Trust me when I say that he deserved far worse than being told to ‘go away’.” Frank explained in an attempt to mollify the slightly glowing woman. “Can I get your name, Ma’am?”

  “Yes,” she warily released the Mana she had been readying, “I am High Magous Amber, of the Portal Guild.” High Magous was a title that meant the person was in the upper A-Rankings. “James was supposed to be negotiating the terms of a lease for a portal, but as he is otherwise indisposed, would you introduce me to the owner?”

  “I would be pleased to!” He turned to Dale, indicating him with a wave of his hand, “This is Guild apprentice Dale, owner of these surrounding lands.”

  She looked at Dale and nodded, realization dawning on her face as she took in his ranking. “I apologize for the poor attitude of my subordinate Guild member, he forgets that we were all at your level at some point. His bias is well-known and documented, and I hope to make reparations as soon as is possible.” She bowed slightly toward him.