The Dungeon Without a System

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The Dungeon, Medea Island

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After Isid and her party had taken the offer and left, Mushu and his lesser brethren celebrated. They had succeeded! They'd driven my enemies from the dungeon and fulfilled my orders to ensure Vena was killed. I raised the kobold who landed the killing blow into a Drake-kin that night. Still lesser than Mushu and Tear, but around the same level as the other drake-kin on the seventh floor. Speaking of Mushu, I was both glad and disappointed. Glad because he didn't die and sad because I didn't get to see if the respawn crystal worked. Okay then, I'll set up an altar for... Hmm. The Crab Knight. Yes.

I quickly form another altar and bring around a second giant core. I'm glad I made a few of these. However, they are time-consuming to make. I'll probably restrict them to necessary monsters, like bosses or other unique existences. The process is much the same as it was with Mushu. Building energy, big flash, yadda yadda. I'll have to wait for morning to see how this works, but even if it doesn't, the process for ascending a normal squire into a night is practically automatic at this point.

That done, my attention turned back to the eighth floor.

There is still a lot of work to do, but the basic shape is complete. It's time to decide on a theme.

So, there are a few options I could go with. I could go canyon style, with the adventurers needing to navigate down a cliff face and follow a very inhabited canyon river. Another option is the ridgeline of a fake mountain range. Plenty of good choices for monsters to inhabit all these ideas. I mean, I'll probably make them all, but... I have an idea.

Since the last floor was a mine, let's lead that into mountains at the exit of the mine. They need to navigate the mountains and perhaps fight a final boss at the third peak if they start at the first. After that fight, they make their way down a revealed and/or illuminated path to the exit and enter the canyon floor. Yes.

That's what I'll make.

And so I spent the rest of the night making fake mountains inside a three-kilometer-high cavern that had to be at least twenty kilometers underground by now. By the morning, I'd mostly defined the shapes. The guilders would emerge from the cavern wall on the tallest of the three peaks and then cross treacherous paths and very, very narrow ledges. I'm going to put a rope bridge in there. A rickety one, with most of its planks missing.

The morning brought another meal fed to the prisoners, and a new question was asked of me. The healer hadn't stopped murmuring prayers, though they were more audible after his food was delivered. I could have sent a normal kobold to do it, but I'm enjoying the way he squirms at the sight of the skeleton. It contents the dungeon part of me, even as it still believes I should kill them and get it over with.

The woman, Kataren, was waiting patiently when the Kobold Shaman I had been using to talk to her entered the room. The kobold, known as Lika to her tribe, pushed the grilled fish and vegetable tray through the slot. This time, I had refrained from delivering a mandarin. I think they've been weaned enough. Time to see what going cold-turkey does to them.

"Ask your question, girl," Lika demands. Kataren, looking at her tray with a conflicted face, glances up and speaks. She talks slowly as if measuring each word as it's said.

"For how long have Kobolds existed." Such a tricky girl, trying to get my age out of me. I have the perfect response. Lika, pass on my words exactly.

"The Kobolds have existed within the dungeon for a hundred generations," Lika pronounces the words just as I intended as if explaining something to a small child. Ah, there's the realization I've told the perfect truth, yet not given the answer she desired.

"And how long is a gen-" "Your question has been asked, human. If you wanted a more precise answer, you should have thought harder on your wording." Kataren grits her teeth but settles down. When Lika leaves the room, she eats her food slowly.

On the surface, the town slowly rouses to wakefulness. Even before dawn, people had been awake. But with the sun's ascent, stores began to open, and stalls were manned. Fishing boats return to offload their catch for the night while others leave to start their work. Builders gather their tools and head to their worksites. Meanwhile, the Guilders milling about on the beach start their wait as the first party of the day is allowed entrance.

Gull glared down at the gathered guilders from his nest on the cliff. Dozens of his children had their nests there, monsters in disguise. I've no doubt Isid or Neo know they are monsters, but it seems that they believe the seagulls became such naturally. Perhaps by feeding off of the heavily increased mana content of the air. It's not like the gulls were powerful. Most only just qualified for the title. They had tiny cores, with very little mana saturating their bodies. Gull was the most visibly altered, and as far as I can tell, so long as he doesn't make a nuisance of himself, they'll leave him alone.

The surface rats scurry through walls and under floors, always listening. Like the gulls, they remain essentially unchanged. Perhaps with slightly bigger brains and more sensitive hearing to facilitate their work. And believe me, it was indeed important work. They heard almost everything said in town, from the outrageous price of bread to hushed whispers between two of the local lord's servants. Yes, they were performing their roles well.

When the first party killed the Crab Knight, and his mana was pulled into the respawn crystal, I was overjoyed. A pulse of mana on my part activated the crystal. The Knight's mana was ejected, into the space in front of the crystal. Slowly, piece by piece, a teal outline came into existence. Then it filled in before finally turning the particular greyish-black shade the knight sported.

The Knight moved, returning to the arena. All in all, the respawn process had taken twenty minutes, plenty of time before the next party arrived.

Satisfied, I let my focus fade and returned to that vague, distributed existence. It's funny. I've got a new routine; work all night, rest all day. Bah. When did my dungeon life in another world turn into the night shift?

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Near Medea Island, Merchantman Ship The Haggler

The Next Day

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Lukar Hanver stood at the bow of the ship with his party. While they had spent most of the journey below decks, he always enjoyed watching ships pull into port. As they drew closer to the newly settled island, Lukar found himself impressed with the town. Or rather, the progress they've made in only two months. The town itself wasn't particularly impressive.

Yes, their docks seemed robust, but it was hardly the match of even most of the ports in the kingdom. As they pulled in alongside one of those docks, Lukar's gaze flicked across the town. Most of the buildings were made of wood, though the mansion on the hill behind the town seemed to be of stone, at least partially.

The guild building was similarly unimpressive, though not much could be expected given it was such a new branch. His gaze shifted to the beach and the glowing cave at the far end of the guild. The number of guilders on the beach... Well, he should have expected it, to be honest. There were plenty of guilders laying under the shade of some permanent-looking shade structures. And those weren't even in the line to enter the dungeon!

Lukar and his party of six descended the gangplank, quickly followed by another two parties. One of them was a Platinum party of seven led by Dulie Lokan, a frighteningly scarred woman their mutual lord had also sent. The third was some nobody party of golds that had paid The Haggler's captain for transport.

"To the Guild, then?" He inquired of the Lokan woman. A nod later, and they were off. They quickly registered with the local guild and, before they could ask about accommodation, were informed a series of rooms had been prepared for them. Lukar was pleasantly surprised. The receptionist passed along a few small books on the dungeon with a warning.

"I dare not presume to tell you your business, Sir, Ma'am, but I would advise extreme caution in the dungeon. It's been especially merciless against anyone intending to fulfill the bounty. We've lost more guilders in the last few days than we have the rest of the time we've been here combined." The woman warned. Both Lukar and Duile nodded, then left for their rooms.

The next day, they were at the front of the line. After reading all the available information, they quickly agreed that delving together was the best option. Two other platinum parties had delved into the dungeon, and both stalled at the third floor. They would technically be the first platinum raid group to delve into the dungeon. It was quite an achievement.

Not many dungeons were this dangerous.

After entering, they passed through the first cavern unopposed. The warning was odd but understandable. The dungeon could somehow distinguish those who wished it shattered from those who merely wanted to gain strength. With how much resistance they encountered on the first and second floors, it knew them to be in the first category.

The second-floor guardian wasn't too hard; the environment was more a problem than the actual monster.

The third floor was as described; hot and humid, full of giant birds and cat monsters. They were harried constantly as they navigated between the various 'trials' on the floor before finally stopping at the boulder that led to the guardian.

One by one, they stepped into the opening.

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The Dungeon, Medea Island

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These new platinum's are no joke. They blazed through all three explored floors on their first attempt in one day. Every obstacle they had a counter for. Traps? They knew the locations and dodged appropriately. Monsters? They knew their weaknesses. The Maze? A map showing the relative locations of the entrance and exit. I guess knowing what you're up against really helps in that regard.

Their fight against Mushu began much like the Gorge's one had. Each guilder had to slide down the entrance one at a time, and when they landed, they were immediately attacked. The first ten seconds were frantic with the one, then two, humans defending as best they could. As more and more humans entered the room, I knew that today was the day.

With twelve platinum guilders against eight Kobolds, four tigers, and the one drake-kin? They were equally matched. Worse, it was a kobold who was slain first. One of the beast-tamers. His Tigers were driven mad by the sudden loss of their connection. No longer coordinated, they were quickly killed. With the power and numbers advantage, the humans destroyed the Kobolds. A Hunter, fallen to a lightning bolt. A Shaman was skewered by a longsword.

In minutes, only Mushu remained. He fought well. With his incredibly tough scales, regeneration, strength, and magical power, he was still a force to be reckoned with. He even managed to slay one of the platinum's, a mage. Of course, his skull was crushed by a Warhammer in the next second.

Moment of truth.

The net around the boss monster's body tightened and retracted, pulling his mana in its entirety into the core above the altar.

I prompted it to begin the respawn sequence, providing plenty of mana, as I watched these new parties pass through the door into the fourth floor. They were immediately confronted with a sewer grate on the floor, with no other doors or openings in the room's walls. They opened it and dropped in, one by one due to the size of the hole.

Watching them crawl and scramble through the slightly too-small pipes was very cathartic. Yes, Mushu would be fine, but the other Kobolds were lost. I'll have to scale back the number of attendants he has from now on.

Their first encounter with the rats was with the Shadow Clan. Not that the guilders knew that, of course. These rats had first focused on manipulating the shadows around them to aid in stealth but had quickly gained a few combat abilities when faced with inter-clan conflict.

First, their shadows began attacking them—previously inanimate shadow growing claws and tendrils, slicing and constricting in equal measure.

In these dark caverns lit by fickle torchlight and the harsh light of a sprite, there were plenty of shadows to work with.

It wasn't even something they could fight back against. The rats themselves were a few pipes over, manipulating the shadows around the party from afar. All they could do was slash at literal shadows, doing nothing but cutting deeply into the stone walls of the pipes.

As quickly as the assault started, it was over. The rats retreated, having accomplished their goal.

For the entire rest of the time they're in the dungeon, they would be very, very aware of the shadows. And it distracted them.

And in my dungeon? Being distracted is a good way to end up dead.

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