Dakota Krout - Dungeon Born (The Divine Dungeon Book 1)

We worked out a few basic ideas, and within an hour had some basic patterns surrounding the entrance. It looked nice and with the soft blue glow coming out the door, it would be hard to mistake the entryway for a regular cave.

“Well something had to cause it!” broadcasted an angry bearded man. “I lost half my flock. Maybe some meteoric iron is laying around? The whole damn mountain nearly fell over.”

“Stop whining! We all lost part of our herd.” A swarthy man walking beside the bearded one firmly demanded. “You know the dangers of living in the Phantom Mountains. Death is everywhere.” This drew nods from the people around them.

A small group of sheepherders were walking along a sloping mountainside, sunshine streaming around them as they searched for the source of their sudden misfortune. The grass they were walking through was waist high, and while the day was beautiful and clear, the forest around the base of the mountain range visible from this lofty vantage, the mood was ruined by the incessant yammering of the bearded man named Tim.

A fresh faced young man decided to input his thoughts, “Well, we are on a plain currently, right? Maybe when we get to higher ground we will be able to see where it hit.”

“Maybe you’ll learn to keep your mouth shut when your betters are talking.” Tim sniped nastily.

“Elder, maybe.” Murmured the swarthy man. “Better...?”

“You got something to say?!” Snarled Tim, turning aggressively on the man standing next to him.

“I think it is late, and we grow hungry.” The swarthy man appeased the bulky form that was Tim. “Let’s set up camp and return to our search in the morning. The sun will soon set as it is.”

“Fine,” Tim grumbled, “Why not just give someone else the treasure while you are at it?” Throwing down his bag, he pulled out a bedroll and lay on the ground while the others set up camp.

The swarthy man eyed Tim, “Since you decided to rest while we worked, you can have the ‘pleasure’ of taking first shift this evening.”

“Eat shit.”

The swarthy man blew out some air in frustration, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. “Tim, contribute or we’ll leave you to search on your own.”

After staring at the other man for a few moments, Tim finally conceded with poor grace. “Whatever.”

After dinner, the small camp wound down. The other men talked for a while, mainly about sheep, weather, and life in their semi-nomadic village. Slowly they fell into a light slumber, with a still-angry Tim keeping guard.

Walking around the campsite to stay awake, Tim kept up a low grumbling complaint until the light had faded to darkness, in that peculiarly rapid way which seemed to happen on mountains. Shortly after twilight had faded to true darkness, Tim was making his way around camp for what ‘must have been the hundredth time, those heartless bastards’, when he saw a soft gathering of light emanating from the edge of the plain they were sleeping on. Moving to examine it, he found light flowing from a crevasse just past an unmarked grave that seemed to give off an unnatural chill.

“Well, would you. Look. At. That.” His eyes were gleaming with the light of greed, “Looks like I found me some treasure.” He set about searching for a way to the bottom, but the sides were simply too sheer for him to scale. With mounting disappointment, and a realization that he was going to have to wake up the others and share his find, he returned to the group and roused them from their slumbers with kicks and curses. Furiously they started yelling at him, but quickly calmed when he pointed out the glow. Anger turning to excitement, the group moved toward the hole in the ground and looked for a safe way down, but with frustration decided they would need to wait till morning if they wanted to survive the descent.

Hours later, when the sun achieved its lofty placement on the horizon known as dawn, the men reeled out the rope ladders that highlanders always brought into new areas. Slipping the ladders down the side, they found that after only thirty feet or so they reached the ground once more. Securing the ladders as best as they could, which was very well, they started their own descent. One by one they got to the bottom, the first down trying hard to hold his enthusiasm in check as he waited for the rest. A total of five men stood before the cave entrance and deliberated about what to do.

“What is it?”

“You think it is a Beast lair?”

“Don’t be foolish, they would never make that kind of art around the edges. It's some old city ruins!”

“Well,” began the fresh faced young man excitedly, “Do you think it might be a dungeon?”

Turning to face him, Tim condescendingly talked down to him, “No you moron, you think we would be the first to find a dungeon ? The Adventurers’ Guild pays a huge amount of money to scouts who find them, how could they miss this? It freaking glows . Keep your mouth shut when your betters are talking.”

“Looks like the best way to find out what it is would be to enter it, don’t you think?” The swarthy man supposed.

“Looks like.” The group walked through the entryway, noting the abundance of mushrooms immediately.

“Are those redcaps? Those are good eating, never seen ‘em so big before.”

“Careful not to mix ‘em with those white ones, they are poisonous I think, I know the medicine man wanted some to make an antidote a few years back.”

“Do you feel that?” prompted the young man.

Tim growled, rounding on him, “What now?”

“The air, it is so… clean. I feel healthier than I have in years.”

“Me too. The ache in my bum knee is fading fast too.”

“My shoulder feels nice.”

“Hey look, even Tim doesn’t look like such a sourpuss.”

The men laughing at his expense of course had the sneer right back on his face, and Tim’s glare shot daggers at the young man, like it was the young man’s fault the group was laughing at him. They decided to explore the cave a bit more, as it seemed well-lit, and to collect some ‘shrooms on the way out. By chance, they walked past each of the Mobs without rousing any of them, and had gone through the tunnel far enough that the second room was visible before tragedy stuck.

“Ahh!” Screamed one of the men as his foot went directly through the floor. He fell forward, his body vanishing for only a few moments before a wet crunch and a whimper floated up from below.

“Are you alright?”

“Can you hear us?”

“Where are you?!” The men clustered around the hole in the floor, trying to establish contact with their fallen comrade. They lit a torch and held it over the opening in time to see and smell their friend void his bowels in his death throes.

“Disgusting.” Tim sneered.

Shocked looks were thrown his way as the remaining men discussed what to do. The words ‘heartless asshole’ were heard a few times as well. They had very little extra rope, and no way to lift him from the crevasse. The decision was made that they would need to come back with rope the next day to lift him from his resting place, after informing any family he might have. They turned to leave, when Tim’s voice reminded them that they were here for a reason.

“You can all turn and run from a weak floor if you like, but I’m going nowhere empty handed. If you leave, you forfeit any right to your share, I tell you right now.” Tim announced firmly. These were practical men, and life was hard in the mountains. While they were shocked at the death, they knew Tim was right. Each of them hardening their hearts, they moved more carefully, unknowingly following Tim deeper into terrible danger. Death was everywhere in the Phantom Mountains.