A Tyrant, Sort Of

15 – Dungeon Run



[The Dark Cellar - Tier 0 - Dungeon Entrance]

Sable considered the large, imposing wooden door inlaid into the cliff’s face. It was horribly out of place, in the middle of nowhere, and, though blackened from age, surprisingly intricate.

Was that how dungeons worked? They simply showed up in random places and in a variety of forms? She’d expected a cave, perhaps, or if not that, some ominous descent into a stony labyrinth.

As Aylin had said, dungeons were valuable resources, and thus were watched over carefully. There had been guards posted, sitting around a makeshift table, playing a game of dice. Sable had chased them away without much effort. She was growing increasingly appreciative of how convenient her species’s reputation was. She had merely needed to show up, and suddenly she had a dungeon all to herself.

That wouldn’t last forever. There were people—or groups of them—out there who could crush her like a bug. But this comfortable starting forest was mostly safe. Relatively speaking.

[The Dark Cellar,] she said. [The dungeon is a cellar?]

Not the most suitable environment for a ‘dungeon’, in her opinion.

Aylin was starting to take her odd questions in stride. She’d never had much difficulty with that, but the more Sable asked, the less she tripped over them. “Guess so. Dungeons come in all shapes and sizes.” She frowned at the decayed wooden door. “Not that I would know, personally speaking. The clan only lets veterans in.”

Veterans? As in, regular warriors?

[Not just the classed?]

‘Classed’ was the most common way Aylin referred to the subset of people afforded supernatural powers, if not just ‘people with a class’, or the more formal ‘class-bearer’. If Sable had to guess, there were many ways to refer to that prestigious echelon of society across a variety of cultures.

“There’s not nearly enough classed to make dungeons exclusive to them. Plus, this is a tier zero dungeon. A group of competent warriors can handle themselves, long as they come prepared.”

Well, if a group of veteran, but unclassed, goblins could handle a dungeon, then Sable would steamroll it, wouldn’t she?

“The first floor, at least,” Aylin corrected. “Getting all the way to the boss, definitely not.”

Ah. So maybe the smallest bit of a challenge?

Truthfully, the hardest part would probably be squeezing through the cramped hallways. Having raised her notoriety by a stage, and thus advanced, she’d grown even larger. Even juvenile dragons were cumbersomely large when it came to fitting in corridors meant for normal people. She could manage, hopefully, but again—only with a tight fit.

That earlier thought—what if she grew in size while inside the dungeon—flickered into her head. Worst case scenario, she guessed, she could carve her way out. Stone was tough, but with her boost in stats, not so tough she couldn’t slowly excavate her way out. Assuming the dungeon interior wasn’t invulnerable, or something.

[How difficult will it be?] Best to get her explicit opinion. [To make it all the way through?]

Aylin gave her an amused look. “For me? Zero chance. But you? Well, maybe the boss doesn’t disintegrate instantly.”

[Hm.] That was both good news and bad news, because she’d hoped for a bit of a challenge. She guessed she’d find out. Hopefully, clearing an entire dungeon would be enough for a level up. According to Aylin, it would take normal people days or weeks, but melting her way through room after room of monsters? Maybe a single expedition would do the trick. [Let’s begin, then.]

The enormous wooden door creaked as Aylin tugged it open. A dark stairwell led into the abyss.

Taking the lead, Sable walked forward, descending. Her wings, even tucked, brushed against the walls. If the stairwell tapered, this adventure would be over before it began.

She’d be annoyed if so. In the near future, she might lock herself out of most dungeons by growing in size, but she at least wanted a taste before that happened.

At the bottom of the stairwell, the first room opened up. Unsurprisingly, it was cold and musty, shelves lining the walls, filled with cobwebs and cracked open crates. Split barrels, likewise empty of anything valuable, scattered the room. A thick iron gate was on the far wall, blocking their way forward.

And, in the corner of the room, was that a—?

A horrifying screech pierced the air, and an enormous rat scrambled toward them.

[ Starving Direrat - Lv. 1 ]

Sable swatted the creature, more out of incredulity than anything. While gigantic by Earth standards, she was a dragon, and dwarfed it by several magnitudes. The blow flung the monster like a rag doll, and it crunched into the far wall of the room. It went limp without a noise, screech cut off in an instant.

What had she expected? Both the ease of the fight, but also the brutality behind it. Obviously killing monsters would be gruesome. Still. The crack of bones had been unpleasant. Though truthfully, it didn’t bother her that much. Old Sable’s stomach probably would’ve turned, but new Sable only paused. Her dragon instincts helped smooth over her human-half’s unease.

[Well,] she said. [That was interesting.]

In the same way of Sable, Aylin seemed amused. “Yeah. Maybe we should beeline for the lower floors.”

[Does it regenerate? Restock itself? The dungeon’s monsters, I mean.]

“For each party that enters it, within some time frame.”

[And how is ‘party’ determined?]

“Whoever comes in together?”

[And what time frame, exactly?]

Aylin shrugged. Sable supposed she wasn’t the ideal person to ask. Still, the specifics behind how all this worked piqued her interest. How strictly defined were the mechanics of this game world? How rigid, or consistent? Could they be abused?

Should she try to? Or was the system living, sapient in a way, and would punish people who tried to exploit it? Or maybe it was so well designed there weren’t exploits. Surely whatever powerful being—assuming it was a being, and not natural phenomena—had created the system, being god-like in capacity, would be capable of such a thing.

All rather besides the point. She had dungeoneering to be taking care of.

[To the lower floors,] Sable agreed. She spared a glance for the rat corpse. [Actually, before that, you should try.]

Aylin perked up, clearly having hoped Sable would suggest something of the sorts. “We’ll have to find our way to the descent, anyway. Won’t waste our time too much.” She peered around the room. “Though, are we gonna search for loot? Sometimes it’s hidden, I think.”

[Is it worth it?]

“Probably not. Not to you, at least. Maybe the lower floors will have something better.”

[Let’s not, then.]

She doubted this expedition would be as efficient for hoard purposes as raiding the Crypt had been. This was a low level dungeon, the kind even unclassed goblins could venture. If piles of gemstones could be dug up from tier zero dungeons, the economy would be in shambles. Or, she supposed, the economy simply wouldn’t value gemstones. In which case, why would dungeons provide them as rewards?

It was circular reasoning, and Sable was, again, letting herself get distracted. Just, how all of this worked was interesting.

[Lead,] she instructed, nodding toward the exit.

Aylin headed that way, gripping her short sword. Goblin-sized, the blade was even smaller than what Sable would expect of such a weapon. She found herself dubious how useful such a diminutive creature could be in a fight. Then again, in a world based on levels, size and mundane strength might very well be irrelevant.

Probably a topic that would be rude to ask Aylin about directly.

Following behind the goblin girl, Sable squeezed between the tight walls of the dungeon corridor, headed for the next room. Aylin peered around the walls and floor, taking the advance slowly.

[Looking for traps?]

“This low of a level, they shouldn’t be that common, and probably wouldn’t be lethal,” Aylin said, scrutinizing the floor with a careful eye. “But better get in the habit. That’s what everyone says, at least. Even a debilitating poison dart, while not deadly, would be a headache and a half. Ah!” She pointed toward something.

Sable peered in the direction. A tripwire.

Dryly, she said, [It’s not like I can avoid it.] Her bulk took up the majority of the hallway. Maybe she could try to avoid brushing against it, but odds weren’t high it would succeed.

Aylin paused. “Right. I guess it doesn’t matter. What’s it gonna do to you? Just let me get out of the way.”

She progressed through the rest of the hall, not finding any other traps. Arriving at the doorway, she huddled against the wall in safety, then waited.

Amused, Sable walked forward, unheeding of the tripwire. Maybe she shouldn’t be so assured, but she doubted she’d be able to get past it even if she wanted to.

Her foot snagged, then snapped the flimsy wire. Some mechanism shifted inside the walls. Quick as a whip, something plinked against her shoulder. She heard the noise more than felt it. She glanced at her feet. A thick bludgeoning weapon had snapped out from the wall, slamming into her. Not a dart, as Aylin had suggested, but something bigger—a hammer?

Maybe against a mythical beast that wasn’t as large as a truck, it would’ve hurt. Certainly, Aylin wouldn’t have eaten the blow with contemptuous ease. A hammer flung at high speed would have hurt her, even considering her new class. But Sable?

Again … dragon.

Aylin snorted, and Sable found it amusing, too. She didn’t think she’d always be so overwhelmingly invulnerable to her competition, but for now? She was playing on easy mode.

[Go ahead, then,] Sable said, nodding at the next door. [See what you can do.]


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