Ember of Invention

Lindle's steps pounded in his ears as his feet beat into the stone floor. He ran past grey-blue walls and strange glowing white lights. Small people no taller than his hips ran past him in the opposite direction, their voices all yelling unintelligible words, faces obscured and details obscured aside from being clothed in flowing white cloaks.

Everything was indistinct and blurry, a strange stew of noises and colors. The screeching of some terrible beast cried out over and over. He dodged and weaved past the crowd, sprinting faster and faster, but the hallway kept going and going.

He had to go faster, he needed to get there now or everything would be lost.

Finally, after what felt like ages, Lindle rounded a corner and came across a door with no handle. He slammed both palms against the door, reaching out somehow and twisting something inside the door. An overwhelming essence that felt both foreign and familiar. A feeling that somehow was of entrances, of journeys, of separation and connection, before everything started shaking and suddenly-

Lindle shot up from his bedroll, he looked around frantically for a few moments. He heard the sounds of Dorothea and Rosato talking outside of his tent. Lindle sighed, falling back. He had overslept, that was embarrassing. He got out of his bed, he needed to help prepare breakfast.

***

The adventurers stood ready, peering into the opening in the cliffside leading down into a ravine. Lindle felt the pressure of the dungeon zone pouring out from the cave, he wanted to turn away, but the adventurers didn’t seem bothered, so Lindle kept still and tried to ignore the feeling, but it was hard.

People had said dungeon zones were places where the system had focused its attention, locations that it had marked as offering both danger and opportunity to encourage growth. He could feel the weight of that attention on him now, all the energy he held in his body buzzing anxiously as if he were on a stage about to conduct a speech in front of everyone in Glacerhine while overdosed on Aura potions.

Theodore said something to Rosato, which Lindle didn’t catch, but the kitsune nodded before the masked man disappeared into the cave.

Lindle forced his way past the discomfort to try and spot Theodore as he left, but he had already slipped into the shadows of the tunnels. Lindle flinched when Rosato placed a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s rough huh? Dungeon Zone pressure is a bitch at first, you’ll get used to it.” Rosato said, giving Lindle an encouraging smile.

Lindle gave a small grin, trying to steel himself. “Thanks. Where’s Theodore going?” He asked.

“He’s gone ahead to scout the area, make sure there aren’t any nests or traps that’ll surprise us when we head straight in,” Rosato answered before his expression turned serious. “I also wanted to take this chance to get you up to speed on how we’re going to do things down there. Listen very closely.”

Lindle blinked, before nodding his head.

“Down in a dungeon zone, things are different. The system twists what’s down there, turning centuries-old rusted traps into perfectly functioning death pits. Monsters warp in unpredictable ways compared to what you’re used to. One second you can be walking safely down a corridor and the next you can be fighting for your life through a gauntlet of monsters waiting to ambush you from nowhere.” Rosato said. “The important thing to remember is that in a dungeon zone, what the system wants is for you to be challenged. It won’t pull its punches, and it won’t hesitate to kill you if you aren’t careful, but there are rules to delving, and if you stay smart and listen to everything I tell you, you’ll come out the other side fine with enough reward to be worth the risk.”

Lindle absorbed the gravity of Rosato's words, feeling a mixture of excitement and dread churning in his stomach.

“Rule one is always, unless you have a sneak skill or technique, you never split the party. You stick with the group. No dividing rooms to look for loot, no staying behind to catch your breath while the rest clear the next chamber full of easy monsters. The dungeon zone will always punish you for it. Stealth powers are the only exception, and gods help you if you get caught by anything or let it up because the dungeon will throw danger at you like you’ve insulted its mother and spit in her eye.”

A chill went down Lindles spine. The dungeon could get angry? Lindle spoke up. “The inside of the dungeon changes if it catches you by yourself?”

Rosato nodded, before tilting his head and making a ‘sort of’ gesture with his hand. “Usually, if you’re there to delve the dungeon by yourself, without any kind of group to be separated from in the first place, you’re fine. That’s why the rule is ‘never split the party’ instead of never be alone. But yes, the dungeon will change to become more deadly, new traps, stronger monsters, ambushes.”

“How can it tell the difference? Is the dungeon aware?” Lindle swallowed nervously.

“No one really knows for sure, and it’s not really my wheelhouse. Dungeon zone theory is something Dorothea is interested in, my focus is just knowing enough to survive and keep the group safe,” Rosato explained. “But one thing is clear - the dungeon zone reacts to the presence and actions of delvers. It adapts and based on the challenges it faces, warping whatever the original area was to create an environment where you either grow or die.”

Lindle gripped his alchemist pack tightly as he took another look into the cave.

“Next thing is fighting as a party. You’re just here as a porter, but if you’re going to contribute the dungeon will know, so you need to know how to work in a party.” Rosato point at Chip. “You stick next to him. Chip is our healer and one of our blasters, so he stands behind me and Theodore and away from whatever we’re fighting. He’s the center of our group. Whenever someone uses a spell or a skill, we call it out. If you’re going to throw another one of those vials, you call it so we can get out of the way.

Lindle nodded. “I can also throw healing potions or buffers.” Most of the vials he had prepared weren’t meant to be thrown, but it was just glass, he could throw with enough strength to shatter it without hurting the adventurers and take advantage of his new feat.

Rosato grinned. “Really? That’s amazing. That’s not something all adventurer alchemists can do. Anything in there with a name that doesn’t make it immediately obvious what you’re about to throw does?”

Lindle shook his head. His mother didn’t bother teaching him any of the pretentious-sounding concoctions he saw traders from Soarstrum peddle, according to her they were all too niche or specific to be useful outside of extremely rare situations. He knew the practical stuff. Lindle ran Rosato through the list of things he had prepared.

“Good, if we need something, we’ll call it out. When it comes to healing, leave it to Chip, he’ll tell you whether or not to give us a healing potion.”

Lindle wasn’t sure why the distinction between buffs and healing, but he absorbed the information nonetheless. Rosato ran him through a few more basic rules, and quizzing Lindle to make sure he remembered. Fortunately, he had always had an exceptional memory. Lindle took great pride in his high Int stat.

A lot of it boiled down to keeping a chain of command and a healthy line of communication open. In combat there wouldn’t usually be a lot of time for questioning so if another adventurer shouted a plan to follow, unless someone had a very good reason not to do so it was good form to always go along with it. There were also some parts about respecting the dungeon structure. It would tolerate some destruction, but if someone started tunneling through walls or floors, the dungeon would get lethally hostile and fast.

Eventually, Theodore reappeared from the cave. The party conversed for a few moments as Theodore gave his report, laying out a plan before they all got into marching order and began descending into the dungeon zone.

The air inside of the cave felt warmer as the dungeon pressure increased. Lindle forced his way through it, heart pounding as the light from the moon outside faded.

Chip gave Lindle a reassuring smile as he raised a hand, another hymn spilling from his lips as the golden flames ignited in his palm. Pushing the flame away it floated up and forward above the group, casting enough light to see by. Feeling the heat against his face again, the feeling it gave off felt different from last night. The bonfire made him feel relaxed and comfortable, instead, now Lindle felt his stomach settle, everything coming into focus just a bit more.

Lindle wondered why Chip seemed to need to chant for some of his spells but not others. He didn’t seem to need to when fighting the razorbacks, but he did so now and back at camp. Spellcasting didn’t tend to need verbal components as far as Lindle knew. Maybe he didn’t need to chant, it could be religious reasons as a cleric.

As they traversed the underground, deeper and deeper, the adventurers surprised Lindle with their sudden transformation into expert spelunkers. It was a complete change from their performance above ground in the snow, as they climbed and navigated down ledges and around the uneven stone terrain. His cheeks burned each time they had to wait for him to catch up at the bottom of a steep stretch or across an unstable section.

Thankfully, the tunnels eventually leveled out, and they emerged into a larger carven. The weight of the dungeon pressed against them, but Lindle's eyes were drawn to the entrance of the dungeon - a colossal edifice of stone but not one made out of the same rock as the cave around it, as if it had been swallowed by the earth itself.

As Lindle’s eyes adjusted to the dimmer light of the large cavern, he could make out more details. It was a building, similar to the greater ice houses in Glacerhine but formed out of blocks instead of being carved or sculpted. Moss and vines covered the walls and gate, the smell of mold and mildew filling his nose.

Lindle observed the gate itself, it was massive, the handles at eye level to him. Despite being covered in vines, it seemed untouched by rot and age like the crumbling rock around it was.

Rosato raised a hand, and everyone stopped. Creeping up to the gate, he placed a hand atop it and looked back at them. Seeing everyone else return a nod to him, Lindle nodded too. Rosato gripped the handle and pulled.