Dungeon Born

by Dakota Krout

  “So long as we have exclusive rights to the tree itself and all products of it. Not including the Essence refined by others of course. Also, you have a counsel, correct? A group of people who make decisions for the area?” Brianna questioned knowingly. “I want a place on that counsel, a vote on any politics for the area.”

  “Sure. I do have a counsel, but have never seen them in action. Either they have never met, or I just wasn’t invited.” Dale easily obliged. “So long as you accept that my word will be the final one on the matter, counsel or no.”

  “The deal is struck then. Our people will arrive soon, and we will begin construction of a shining city.” Brianna solemnly stated. She stood, bowed, and with a word, she and her people vanished.

  “...I need to stop going for walks alone.” Dale muttered unhappily. This was the second early morning walk he had almost been stabbed on. “Hey! They took those techniques with them! Assholes!”

  He began walking back to the camp, hungry and more than a bit grumpy. This was his first morning off in months! Everyone wanted something, dang it. He trudged into the mess hall and angrily spooned the bland porridge into his mouth. Hans noticed him and joined his table.

  “Wide awake already! It’s almost like someone taught you good habits by soaking you with a bucket of ice water.” Hans glibly mentioned, deftly swiping Dale's toast.

  “Humph.” Dale grumped.

  Hans shook his head, “The plight of the young! Morning is such a horrible time to be awake! Are you not pleased that you are going to be cheating your way into the next ranking series?” He seemed serious suddenly. “I know that three thousand gold is a lot to give up. I’m sure you could change your mind.”

  “That’s right, that’s today!” Dale's mood brightened considerably. “It will take me four ranks higher than I currently am, and my spiral will look like the design you all have, correct?”

  “It is called a ‘fractal’ and is something you would have learned how to do over several months to avoid hurting yourself.” Hans consideringly mentioned, “I’m actually wondering how he plans to get around that, just knowing how to do it isn’t enough.”

  “We’ll find out soon enough, I’m sure.” Craig appeared behind them. “I don’t suppose you would reconsider this, Dale? I have heard that this process is at least as painful as getting your Essence stripped.”

  Dale looked stricken for a moment. “Of course it is.” He breathed, “Now they tell me.” He shook his head; this day was going downhill so fast. He stood up and decided to go… somewhere. Really, he had no hobbies or job anymore. Every day was an amalgamation of fighting or training to fight. What was the endgame?

  Dale sat back down with a sigh as he tried to relax. Hans looked at his depressed friend, and took pity on him. “Dale, what’s the matter my friend?”

  “I don’t know. Everything I used to do seems so simplistic now. I fight and fight, but for what?” Dale replied, not really expecting an answer.

  “Well that makes sense, you are smarter than you used to be. Quite a bit smarter too I would assume.” Hans told him with enthusiasm. “You rarely see smart people happy to live a humble life.”

  “What? All I do is fight all day! Sure I know more about fighting, but that doesn’t really make me smarter…” He trailed off as Hans shook his head.

  “Mph nhpo yokrk eddsenve is-” Hans started, blasting crumbs out of his mouth.

  Dale made a disgusted face, “Not with your mouth full please. That’s nasty.”

  “Ha,” Hans quickly swallowed, “It's because your Essence is able to purify your body. No longer fighting against blocked channels, your body gets stronger, faster, and your brain is a part of that. A healthy mind makes more connections, allowing you to experience the world on a deeper level than you could before. You will see how things link together, and be able to see how one action affects another. There are people who do that as a profession you know.”

  “Really?” Dale was exceedingly interested.

  “Yup.” Hans disclosed, eating more toast. “Sstpotters.” He finished around the mouthful, spitting several crumbs out.

  “Spotters? That sounds about right.” Dale laughed at Hans’ disdain for the group.

  “Well, really everyone does. Other professions just use those connections in a practical way. Like a fire Mage knowing that melted sand makes glass, and that some sand is better for it than others.” Hans extrapolated, “The more connections that you understand, the faster your power will grow, which is why being a Spotter is so appealing to many.”

  “What will I be able to do though?” Dale insisted earnestly.

  Hans shrugged, “Whatever you like. First you need to see where your talents lie within the earth. Everyone has different strengths and weaknesses, and the uses for Essence are endless.”

  Dale deflated again, “So it comes down to waiting again.” He grumped sourly.

  Hans laughed a dark laugh, “Welcome to life, kiddo! Where you need to work for everything worth having, and anyone trying to give you a handout is just waiting to use you until you are useful to them.”

  Craig spoke up then, “That’s a dark outlook, Hans. No matter how true it may be. Dale, when you reach the D-rankings, you will be able to exert control over your element. I will teach you then, as we had always planned to do. It seems it will be years sooner than we thought it would be, though. Gaining control of your element is the best part of being a cultivator, in my opinion.”

  A familiar face in the crowd of people grabbed Dale's attention as he was thanking Craig for his consideration. “Hey! Hans, is that… Madame? What is she doing here?”

  “Yup, that is her all right. Annnnd, wel-l-l, she's prolly looking for us so she can yell at me.” Hans was barely understandable around the hemming and hawing.

  Dale rounded on him dangerously. “...Why?”

  “Remember how when we were there, at her restaurant, she was talking about starting one here? She would most likely have set up a deal with you right then.” Hans reminded him, “Well, she really hates not knowing what's going on. Since we didn’t tell her who you were, she’s likely pissed at you.”

  “Why yes, she is pissed at you.” A deceptively soft, decidedly female voice hissed next to their ears. They had only taken their eyes off Madame for a moment, then she was behind them. Her hands clamped down on their shoulders, “Let’s talk about this outside, shall we?”

  Dale and a stammering Hans were unceremoniously dragged outside while Craig carefully focused on his food, avoiding Hans and Dale’s pleading looks.

  “Did you not like my food? Was my service subpar?” She interrogated them, a dangerous glint in her eye. “Why was it that you made me wait days to find out that the young adventurer that dined in my business was the owner of the land I so badly wanted to create a fine dining area upon?”

  “Madame, your food was fit for a King!! We had just-” Hans promised.

  With a glare Madame ended his babbling. “Not you. Him.” She nodded at Dale.

  “Honestly? It was because I felt really bad, insulted that you had such a low opinion of me without even meeting me.” Dale boldly began. “You had no idea who I was, but you spouted mean gossip and cruel rumors.”

  Hans gaped at him, mouth working silently as he shook his head. Madame turned red, eyes bulging out a bit.

  *Whoo* Dale thought, thinking she was reminiscent of an owl when she did that.

  Madame took a deep breath, Dale prepared himself to be lashed brutally by her words. “That is… Fair I suppose.” She sighed in embarrassment, rubbing at her temples. “I haven’t left the city in years, I forget that not everyone enjoys gossip as the city folk do. Please know that I didn’t try to upset you, I was only trying to make conversation.”

  A bit stunned by this turnaround, Dale stammered, “Uh. Don't worry about it.” All the heat and argumentation he had been building up to rushed away.

  “If I didn’t ruin my chances, I would still like to create a Pleasure House
in the area. My granddaughter will be joining the dungeon dives as a cultivator, and I want to stay busy while I keep an eye on her.” Madame humbly requested.

  Dale sighed, now rubbing at his forehead “It’s fine, Madame. We’ll work out the details, but is ten percent to much to ask from you as tax? You’ll also need to build your own restaurant, but we’ll pick out the location later, I have an appointment to get to.”

  “That will be just fine. Please, Madame is my title, my friends call me by name, and I would greatly enjoy being your friend.” The short lady proclaimed.

  “Of course, Madame. I need all the friends I can get.” Dale was greatly cheered by this statement.

  “My name is Chandra; it is a pleasure to do business with you. We will talk later then.” With a smile and a wave, she walked away.

  “Shh-ann-drah.” Dale repeated, “Man am I bad at names.” He turned toward Hans, “You think she will have trouble with making the building?”

  Hans snorted. “Doubtful. She’ll likely grow it in a day, she’s an A-rank nine plant Mage. She’s the closest thing to a Saint I have ever seen. Heck, she trained Frank for nearly a decade.”

  Dale's mouth dropped open, he hadn’t even thought to look at her cultivation. A bad habit he would need to break, even regular seeming people could be horrifyingly dangerous if he didn’t even bother to notice them. He needed to keep his eyes and ears open, and get used to all of the overwhelming input. It may save his life someday. He activated the Essence flow to his eyes, watching the overlay appear, colors becoming brighter, the flows of the heavens and earth visible to him once again.

  “You feeling ok, Dale?” Hans enquired worriedly.

  “Yeah. I’m just working through some stuff. Hey,” Dale realized he hadn’t mentioned his earlier encounter, “I met an Elven ambassador this morning.”

  “Really? Today already?” Hans seemed surprised by the sudden conversation topic. “It is, what, eight o’ clock? Did they shake you out of bed?”

  “Naw, I had gone for a walk around dawn, they found me on the outskirts of the camp.” Dale nonchalantly stated. “They wanted to make a deal for access to the Silverwood tree.”

  “Were they surprised when you told them it was in the dungeon?” Hans demanded gleefully.

  Dale was stunned for a moment, “Uh, I may have failed to, um, mention that.”

  Hans thought this was a hysterical riot of course. “Wait, they made a deal to see it, and they didn’t even ask questions? Typical High Elves, never really thinking of the details. They’re all about the ‘big picture’.” He chuckled at the thought of the dainty Elves trying to ward off Raile. “It should make for a fun afternoon if we watch ‘em though.”

  “High Elves?” Dale was confused. “What are High Elves? Or is that just what they call themselves?”

  “Oh boy, you could get in some real trouble. I’ll find someone to tell you the whole history, but basically there are High Elves, of the nation Luminaria. These guys are the largest nation, and spend most of their time as merchants, artists, or thinkers. Rich beyond any need to actually work, their King is an S-Ranked expert, and their cities shine with light and wealth. They like to think of themselves as ‘above’ other Elves, thus ‘High’ Elves.” Hans explained with a shake of his head at the thought.

  “Next, there are Wood Elves, shorter than the High Elves, and a bit more reclusive, they live in the forests! Surprise!” Hans dictated, “Seriously though, they are not a fan of the High Elves. They think they are too hedonistic or something. They live more simply, but have greater connection to the earth and the elements. They are ruled by a counsel of S-ranked elders, and rarely leave their woods. Though seen less often, they have great power. They grow and collect food and animal products for themselves and other Elven nations.”

  “There are the Sea Elves, who live on boats their entire lives. They facilitate trade between all the races of Elves and man, trying not to take sides in conflicts. They work for themselves, and are considered rather mysterious.”

  “The fourth type are known as ‘Wild Elves’. They are the outcasts of their societies, basically feral, they scorn society and civilization, and the rules of others. They have the worst reputation of any of the races of Elves, practicing dark arts and infernal summoning. They have no homeland, living only where they can get away with their dark deeds.”

  “The fifth and final are the Drow, or Dark Elves. No one knows where they live, only where they can go to get in contact with them. Dark Elves also have a dark reputation, as assassins and mercenaries for the other races. The worst of their lot are ‘Moon-Elves’, the best known assassins of any race.” He pondered for a moment, “Anyway, Dark Elves work for the highest bidder, and will change their allegiance mid fight if offered enough. Never work with them unless they sign a Mana-contract, else you could quickly end up dead.” Hans finished, a bit out of breath.

  Dale listened raptly to these descriptions. He had never much considered the outside world, and was constantly amazed by how intricate it really was. Someday, he promised himself, he would travel and see everything the world had to offer. He would live long enough to see it all if he became strong enough.

  “Well, I might be in trouble.” Dale gave a weak chuckle, “I didn’t make a deal with the High Elves, it-“

  Father Richard walked up to them at that point, forcing Dale to abruptly stop talking, so he made motions to Hans that they would talk at a later date.

  ~Twenty-Five~

  “Oh, there you are!” Father Richard exclaimed cheerfully. “Listen, I didn’t think about it, but making you wait till noon seemed like torture. Are you ready now, or do you have other things on your plate?”

  “Well, no, but I just ate and-” Dale began frantically.

  Father Richard cut him off with a wave. “No problem, my child, you’ll likely vomit either way. Might as well get it over with!”

  Hans chimed in, “You aren’t trying to avoid Frank being there are you? I can go get-“

  A slightly panicked look crossed Father Richard’s face, “No, no.” He hastily stated, “No time for that if you want to join us! I have the area prepared, we need to get to it!”

  Dale’s wrist was grasped firmly and he was all but dragged along behind Father Richard. They were moving toward the celestial infused lot, which made Dale gasp when he saw it. A white granite, coliseum-style arena had appeared around the entirety of the area, perfectly framing the quartz. Beyond that, a massive chapel was glowing in the morning sun. Father Richard was also using this as an opportunity to showcase his purchase, it seemed.

  “If you look over there, there is a healing ward that connects directly to the exit from the dungeon. That way, people can be checked in and healed as soon as they leave their fight. Next to that is the vault, which I personally blessed and enchanted, to hold valuables as we begin our function as a bank. Sermons will be given next to the quartz, the roof is perfectly clear glass, so we will function in all seasons. The doors are granite reinforced with steel and Essence, to protect the worshippers within.” Father Richard babbled happily.

  “Over there is the dormitory, we can have up to thirty people living there comfortably, or near one hundred uncomfortably. Kitchen, library, garden.” Father Richard turned toward Dale. “So? What do you think?”

  “I’m amazed. This was build overnight?” Dale gaped at the gleaming building.

  “Of course not,” was the scoffed reply, “we started after lunch yesterday, I could only hire that team of Mages for twelve hours or so.”

  “How did I not see this when I went to breakfast?” Hans squinted at him suspiciously.

  Father Richard smoothly countered, “Must have been dark.”

  “I think there is more to it than that,” Hans narrowed his eyes further. “No rumors, no one noticed the work, why? What were you hiding?”

  Father Richard looked at Hans furiously, then Dale, and admitted. “Well, the church was a bit… bigger than I had planned at first.”
r />   “How much bigger?” Dale questioned him, features hardening.

  “It’s only… three lots.” Richard mumbled.

  Dale looked at him oddly, the way he said those words was so quiet yet perfectly clear. “Three lots?” Dale barked incredulously. “What the heck?! I didn’t approve that!”

  Father Richard rubbed his forehead. “We couldn’t dig. That was the issue. Everything had to be on one level, because if we went down, we would affect the dungeon. So the place became more… ranch style than monastery style.”

  He turned his head to Dale, “I’m sorry we didn’t ask first, but we will happily pay the difference in price that those lots would cover.”

  Dale was undecided on his feelings in this matter, but concluded that being angry at the man who was about to alter his innards was not a good plan. “It’s fine, Father. Please just ask permission next time, there are a lot of people that want to live here.”

  “Thank you, and sorry again. Maybe you would like to have one of the rooms for a while? I have no acolytes here yet, and I’m sure a bed would be preferable to the cot you have been sleeping on.”

  “Throw in a room for each of my team, then we’ll call it good.” Dale grunted after catching Hans’ pleading look. Sometimes it was easy to forget Hans was in his sixties, the cot would have been murder on his back without the reinforcement that cultivating provided.

  “Done!” Richard beamed, “At least until I have students who need them.”

  Dale nodded, “That’s fair, they are who the rooms were intended for anyway. Where are we going?”

  As they continued at a brisk pace through the winding corridor, Father Richard told them, “The practice room. It was made especially thick and enchanted to hold in spells and block outside influences. It blocks sound and holds in heat to a set temperature. Also, it has a very strong lock. We won’t be disturbed there, which is of the utmost importance. Once this process starts, if we end early you may die.”