Dungeon of Doors

My attention slipped from what I was doing when I noticed a significant number of paladins milling about my dungeon's original entrance. They're moving quietly, with an unsettling seriousness about them. They're carrying heavy looking crates filled with something I've never seen before. Could it be poison? Some new plan to attack my dungeon?

The boxes are filled with a powder. What it is I can't say from simply looking, but I have a few ideas. The stuff is dark and almost sparkly, and I've seen some minerals beneath the earth that look vaguely like it. It couldn't be anything truly dangerous, like a bomb, could it? Gunpowder isn't the right kind of explosive to do any real damage. It could burn and launch projectiles, but it shouldn't be able to do much more.

My only worry is that I can't say if this is gunpowder.

As I'm watching things unfold I see the paladins begin to retreat. My concerns of it being some kind of explosive grow when I notice a man in particularly ornate armor is unfurling a lengthy spool of twine, one end stuffed into a crate of the black powder, the other in his hands. That could very well be a fuse.

The other paladins quickly retreat a considerable distance away from both the empty adventurers guild hall and the dungeon entrance. Once the man carrying what I assume to be a fuse is far enough away, he has one of the paladins hand him a torch.

Previous victories over these zealots feel far away now that I'm completely uncertain of what they're about to do. They light the fuse, and I watch as the flame crawls toward the crates of black powder. This shouldn't do anything to my dungeon. It's just a little bit of gunpowder, so why do I feel a sense of foreboding?

My attention flits from the burning fuse to the crates themselves. As the impending combustion inches closer I recall something about the first time the paladins attacked. They used some kind of foreign mana, and they created a massive explosion.

Looking closer at the black powder reveals a golden glint within.

The very same unknown mana is in the powder.

Alarm bells go off in my mind as I quickly funnel mana into trying to reinforce my dungeon's antechamber and doors, not wanting something catastrophic to happen. It's as I'm pushing my mana into the structure of my dungeon entrance that the flame reaches the black powder.

The explosion is deafening.

Even with the lack of physical ears I feel dazed observing the chain reaction. The black powder isn't what does the damage, it's the golden mana laced into it. The structure of the antechamber cracks and breaks rapidly with each explosion. The doors to both the Wildwood and Green Valley are torn apart as vibrations rock the dungeon entrance.

My dungeon's entrance and the antechamber are both buried in rubble, collapsing beneath the might of the mana fueled ordinance. The quantity of mana I've just lost leaves a gaping hole in my core, like a particularly painful hunger pang.

How do I combat that kind of weapon?

~

The quiet of the night is broken by a distant booming noise. I stop for a moment, glancing in the direction of Daywark. Whatever that was, it isn't my problem. I double check my things. I've got a lantern, the woodcutting axe I've been borrowing during my stay, and plenty of provisions. Even if I get stranded I'm not going to die like a fool.

I creep my way down the bank of the river and toward the door. The patterns of light being refracted through water can be seen from afar. I step inside to the sound of rushing water from the door ahead. This time I am alone. No one is here to doubt me or hold me back, yet I take slow cautious steps as I approach the door to Rushwater Canyon.

The rushing waters aren't lit by a distant sun this time. Instead, darkness reigns, casting shadows over the whole of the canyon. The moonlight reflects brilliantly off the water. The buzz of insects has lessened to a dull hum.

I hold my lantern aloft as I enter. The muddy soil squishes underfoot, and I watch my step. Unlike the dungeon near Daywark this one is fairly linear. There isn't any wide area to search, but rather a narrow gauntlet of obstacles. The first obstacle being a slippery looking bridge.

My feet find purchase on the first plank of many. The wood is spongy, but holds my weight without so much as a creak. The water and algae covering the bridge makes me nervous. I'm no fisherman, but I know as well as anyone that leaving wood on the water like this is bound to rot eventually.

A few careful steps later, and I'm on the next patch of walkable earth. This one's on the opposite side of the canyon. It's longer, too, with a lot more reeds and cat tails decorating its edges. I walk carefully along the center of the bank.

My breathing halts as I spot a glimmering flash of blue amongst the reeds.

Could that be the mermaid that man mentioned?

My theory is quickly proven wrong when the blue glimmer flies up from the reeds and toward me. It's one of those dragonflies--no, drakeflies? Its wings buzz fiercely as it gets far too close to my face. I almost swing my axe at it, but I hesitate.

Near the end of my time in Daywark I heard a story about some adventurers leaving an encounter unscathed simply by not attacking the monster. It ignored them, like they weren't even there. Could that work here?

My grip on the axe doesn't relax as I stare the drakefly's compact eyes down. Several long seconds pass before it turns away and leaves, buzzing off downriver without a care in the world. My jaw goes slack as I wait for the punchline. That monster really didn't attack me!

Something strange stirs within me as I continue walking. I know what the emotion is, but I just can't accept what's causing it. There's a little more energy in my steps as I march across the next waterlogged bridge.

This time it's a small island in the center of the river with the flow of water bordering it on both sides. The effect is strange. I've not often seen such a formation, though I don't spend too terribly long exploring rivers.

Again, as I am making my way forward, I spot an iridescent shine from amongst the reeds.

I approach it with tension in my wrist. I'm still gripping my axe, worrying this time will be different, worrying that this monster will live up to its name. The giant insect awakens as my foot squishes some particularly wet mud. I watch it fly up before hovering centimeters from my face. The compound eyes stare at me, unblinking--though in all fairness it cannot blink.

"Why are you just looking at me?" I ask the bug, knowing it can't answer.

Without missing a beat this drakefly leaves just like the first. I watch it weave between the reeds and disappear from sight some distance away. I find my feet moving before my mind. I can't wrap my head around how these monsters behave. Every other monster I've come to meet has been a bloodthirsty beast, and I watched my comrades die to them in brutal fashion.

These are no monsters! They're just oddly large insects with especially shiny bodies.

Their curiosity is innocent, the way they stare at me not hostile in the slightest.

I find myself hesitating less as I walk along the bridges and connected land masses. I'm taking deeper breaths of the fresh somewhat humid air. The rush of the water below me has changed from a danger to a peaceful sound, pleasing to my ears.

My cheeks hurt for some reason.

Slowing my pace, I rub my face for a moment in confusion. It's not until I glance down at the moonlit water that I see I'm smiling from ear to ear. Why? What's so different about this dungeon that makes me feel excited?

As if to remind me of its cruel nature, the dungeon sends misfortune my way. The board I step upon suddenly snaps in half. My leg falls out from under me in one clean motion. I'm slammed down onto the bridge with my leg half submerged, the cold water rushing past tugging at me. I quickly lift myself up onto another section of the bridge.

Much to my dismay, these boards are not trustworthy either. The groan of wood splintering rings in my ears as I feel the ground fall out from under me. Cold fast moving water rushes up to meet my face. My senses are overwhelmed as I plunge into the current.

Water swirls around me as the river's flow pushes me downstream. I force my eyes open, spotting several fish big enough to bite my hand off swimming through the water. They behave as if the current isn't there, their swimming beautiful yet frightening. The teeth on each of these fish are intimidatingly jagged.

At first I fear the worst--that I may die here due to these monsters. I quickly realize these great pikes are much like the drakeflies. Not in any physical sense, but in the way they lack the aggression to attack without reason. They see me as a part of the environment rather than prey. I float past them before swimming up and breaching the surface.

The sounds above water are much louder. Gone is the ever present flow, and instead the rush of a waterfall fills my ears. I sputter, keeping afloat even as the current grows stronger the further downstream I go.

My eyes manage to pick out a few landmasses as I pass them. I bob along semi helpless in the current, ducking my head to avoid hitting a bridge. The sound of water rushing grows louder despite the waterfall from earlier being nowhere in sight.

Fear grips me as I see very few chunks of earth ahead. That waterfall is approaching, and if I don't get out of the river I'll be going over it. All hesitation is gone as I scramble to paddle my way to the bank of the river. I miss the first chunk of land, my speed in the current too great.

If I wasn't already half drowned I'd be sweating like a pig right about now. I turn and move toward the opposite bank, hoping to make it, but failing as my fingers grip loose silt. Fear is coursing through my veins as I hear the rush of water getting closer.

Then my back hits a muddy riverbank. I grunt, groaning softly as I wince from the sudden impact. Turning over, I find myself on an island that takes up a large swath of the lake. Beyond it I can see the river flowing over what appears to be a cliff.

My steps are cautious and tired as I stand. I'm shivering from the cold swim. I need to go warm up, but I have to see what's at the end of this dungeon. While cruel and terrifying, the dungeon in Daywark was never without rewards.

And here at the edge of this canyon bound river is a chest. It's half buried in the muddy soil, but I can access the lid easily enough. I get down on one knee and pop it open with a slow noisy creaking sound. Inside I am greeted by a pile of coins along with a strange blue bubbling potion.

That's not a healing potion. What's more, those aren't the kind of coins I'm used to seeing in dungeons. Those are Greatmane coins.

I can't help but laugh at the absurdity of my luck.