Chapter 8-2
As a result, Dungeoneers are effectively chained to the location of their pet dungeon. They are cosseted, pampered, guarded, and absolutely never allowed to get out of range. Unsurprisingly, this tends to make them fucking weirdos.
Their questionable personalities are far from the only strange thing about this Class. I’m too fucking lazy to list all of the others, so here’s a few that happen to come to mind:
- There is no known path to reliably gain the option of becoming a Dungeoneer. It can be offered to essentially anyone – the only requirement is that you’ve spent time in dungeons beforehand. Doesn’t matter if you’re a Fighter, Healer, or even a Wasted Lawyer.
- No one has ever obtained this Class until reaching Tier 2.
- Dungeoneers insist that ‘their’ dungeons have personalities. Most of them talk to their dungeons more than they do to people. Never tell a Dungeoneer that their dungeon can’t talk back.
- They also universally insist that ‘their’ dungeon is ‘best dungeon.’ Logical reasoning skills are clearly not a requirement for the Class.
- Dungeoneers only influence. They obviously can’t make every stable dungeon shit out high-Tier mana crystals, or the fucking things would be much cheaper.
- Delver’s Guild Handbook, Section 10.3 – “Basics of Dungeon Management”
My shotgun appeared in my hands in an instant, coming up to sweep the room around me as I dropped into a ready stance. The first thing I noticed was that the walls were plain stone and the room was dimly lit by an undefined glow. The second was that I was alone.
Fuck! We’ve been split up!
<Can anyone hear me?!> I called over the Comms, but got no response. It didn’t feel like when I’d been constrained by Yuri’s ward and eventually able to break through. No, this felt more like being in Thompson’s office, my words disappearing into nothingness like they’d never existed. Then my dungeon quest notification appeared.