“Dungeon Seeds are exceedingly rare and incredibly valuable. They can devastate cities if not discovered in time or they can be invaluable training aids for the guilds that come to possess them. Wars are often fought over them when they appear. No one knows their true power, even those who claim to own one.”
Taken from the extremely sparse Lore Entry on Dungeons Seeds
Year 1, Month 1, Day 18, 14:00
The people inside the city of Carter’s Bluff teetered between raucous celebration and terrified inaction. The monster armies gathered in the distance, the promise of a violent siege whispered on the wind. The premier guild in the city, the Heirs of Destiny, rented out a half dozen taverns and pubs on semi-permanent basis. Their members drank and made merry, confident in their superiority. Subordinate guilds, including the Red Hat Raiders, patrolled the city. Non-affiliated players avoided them, unwilling to submit to the harassment.
The Heirs of Destiny guild base held few of their members. A few of the paid gatherers farmed the nodes and administrative staff toiled away. A severe woman shuffled papers on her desk, a scowl marring the icy perfection of her face. The Midnight Maiden, well known for her rise through the ranks of the guilds by means fair and foul, glared at the expense reports piled high. Her job was to keep an eye on Malcolm Cook, aka Alpha Flame, the heir to the Cook Industries empire. Ostensibly, she was the vice leader of the Heirs of Destiny, but she reported directly to Thomas Cook, the head of the company.
Alpha Flame spent about 75% of his in-game time drunk, along with his chief lieutenants and dozens of hangers-on. In the three days they had been online, he had personally consumed more than forty gold worth of alcoholic beverages. A cruel smile crossed her lips as she shrank the entertainment budget to less than half of its current amount, moving the coins to the supply and procurement bucket. The opening of the auction houses would let them spend the coin on something useful, instead of catering to a spoiled brat.
Meanwhile, the city of Miller’s Crossing bustled with activity. The victorious adventurers attacked their tasks with vim and vigor. Citizens exchanged happy greetings and cheerful conversations. Members of Risk of Injury pursued their personal goals, eager to finish them before the Broken Hills opened up to them.
At the guild base, Torgon relaxed in his house, stretching out on the surprisingly comfortable rabbit fur blankets. He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. He had less than 15 minutes before he was due to depart with Ovarrix and the others to finally conquer the dungeon seed.
Torgon opened his character window and eyed his stats.
Character Name: Torgon
Level: 8
Primary Attributes:
Strength: 12 +2
Agility: 39 + 5
Endurance: 14 + 1
Intelligence: 20 + 2
Willpower: 14 + 1
Presence: 10
Secondary Attributes:
Health: 400 + 40
Health Recovery: 2.8/s + 0.2/s
Energy: 440 + 20
Energy Recovery: 2.8/s +0.2/s
Mana: 560 + 20
Mana Recovery: 2.8/s +0.2/s
Skills:
Combat Master Skill Level 1
Swordsmanship Level 7
Archery Level 10
Double Shot Level 5
Magic Master Skill Level 1
Force Shield Level 6
Healing Touch Level 6
Crafting Master Skill Level 1
Craft Tools Level 2
Craft Weapons Level 11
Gathering Level 11
Mining Level 10
Stonecutting Level 10
General Master Skill Level 1
Analysis Level 3
Low Light Vision Level 4
Stealth Level 11
Universal skill slots
Dodge Level 3
Ranged Heal Level 4
Stream of Water Level 1
Running Level 4
Blueprints/Recipes
Fishing Pole Level 11
Heavy Crossbow Level 2
Enchanted Long Sword of Strength Level 16
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Torgon still needed to slot the three crafting skills that Baron Abernathy gifted him at the celebration. Sadly, he only had enough free experience to push one skill to level 10. With luck, and a successful clear, the dungeon seed might provide enough skill experience and free experience to boost that to two or three cleared skill slots.
Reluctantly, Torgon pulled himself off the bed and left his home. He met up with the others and they headed to the crafting hall. They found Stabitha hard at work with her minions/apprentices. She looked up on their approach, a warm smile on her face. “I have everything you need right here.” Stabitha took stacks of potions out and put them on the counter in front of her. “There are healing, mana, energy and the disease resistance potions in sufficient quantity for at least five dungeon runs. There’s a variety of flavors for most, no licorice for Torg. The disease resistance potions are pink and gloopy, but they work.”
Torgon nodded his appreciation, “Thanks Stabitha. Get as much brewing finished as you can today. When the Broken Hills zone opens tomorrow, everyone that wants to scout will be sent out. Pioneering the first non-starter zone should be worth our while.”
“On it boss,” Stabitha saluted and returned to her brewing.
The journey through the sewers to the dungeon seed of the Forgotten Empire smelled just as unpleasant as the first time. The entrance was still manned by guards with tables set up to sell potions and other wares to the people trying to clear the seed. Ovarrix asked the guards, “What’s the count at?”
The lead guard replied, “4,074/10,000 at last check. It would be awfully nice of you folks if you could finish it off and let us get back to the surface. I think my boots are molding.”
Ovarrix laughed and clasped wrists with the guard. “If it can be done, we’ll do it.”
They headed into the seed and began their mission to remove the last known threat to Miller’s Crossing.
The darkened entrance room greeted them before it gave way to the light from their stones. They took their potions of disease resistance out and drank them. The pink goop didn’t taste terrible. Allestor smacked his lips and said, “Mmm, peppy. I’ve drunk worse tasting potions.”
“Imagine if a potion tasted really great,” Dusty added. “You would want to drink it when you didn’t need it. Maybe it wouldn’t be a waste if it was something that buffed stats or skills?”
Hyperia rolled her eyes, “That’s all we need. Potion addicts waylaying adventurers in dark allies to fund their addiction. Big alchemy wouldn’t even sell it in stores, just the auctions.”
Ovarrix clapped his hands, “Focus up. We’re here for a clear, not banter.”
“Sir Yes Sir!” Allestor mock saluted.
The team pushed into the dungeon and made short work of the first boss. The disease resistance combined with ranged healing trivialized the harder encounters. Preparing excess potions might be expensive, but it would make a difference when returns weren’t the primary factor in a dungeon run. The party cautiously advanced after the first boss, clearing rooms deliberately and with an eye towards finding any traps. Their methodical approach reduced the strain on their potion supplies and delivered them safely to the second boss.
The second boss of the dungeon seed forced them to stop and question their sanity. Several mismatched torsos from different species of creatures melded together into a disc of flesh. Dozens of legs and feet extended to the floor proving mobility. The top half of the creature sprouted arms and necks with mouths gibbered and teeth that clacked incessantly.
“Nope. Nope. Grab the oil flasks.” Ovarrix gave directions to burn the affront to the universe from existence. The party hurled the flasks and lit the abomination on fire. Dusty pushed around it, using her weapon to keep it at a distance as the party poured their attacks into the beast. Allestor used his sweeping strikes to cleave the legs from the flesh amalgam. Waves of diseased necrotic energy pulsed from the terror. The potions kept pace with the horror and soon it was a charred husk of flesh piled on center of the chamber.
“Congratulations! You have defeated the Flesh Amalgam of the Lost Empire! This is the first time this boss has been defeated so rewards are doubled!”
The party eyed each other a long time before Torgon sighed and stepped towards the stinking mass of roasted flesh and snagged the loot. “It’s not bad. Two more recipes for the potion of disease resistance. If the Broken Hills zone has a destroyed city tied to the Forgotten Empire inside it, having more alchemist making them will be extremely useful. Hype, there’s a pair of silk gloves that raise the level of spells cast using them by two. You take those, they’ll pair with your dual casting nicely. We have a few silvers and a blueprint for chairs made from bone. I’m not sure that we farm that much bone, but eh, maybe things will change?” Torgon shrugged stored most of the loot in his inventory after passing the gloves to Hyperia.
The group continued deeper into the dungeon seed. They killed skeletons, zombies, plague hounds, plague rats, zombie rats, zombie plague rats and a single huge river otter that was reanimated with five legs instead of four.
“Hype?” Dusty looked at her with wide, pleading eyes.
Hyperia pursed her lips, sighed and said, “What is it Dusty?”
Dusty gestured at her gear, “This. I want to burn all of this after the dungeon. Can you just make me new gear?”
Torgon laughed, sniffed, then looked at Hyperia with pleading eyes of his own. “Do we even have a detergent to clean out death and decay?”
Allestor unusually came to Hyperia’s rescue. “You know guys, the faeries have cleaning magic. They can wave their hands and clean this gunk right off when we get back to the base. It works on anything. I talked with Ivy about it. When they were in their old home, they would occasionally get into fights with undead creatures and get rotting ichor in their wings. The rangers learned the spell so they wouldn’t smell terribly and be easy to find for anything that wanted to eat them. It’s a bit of a double-edged sword. When they smelled that bad, most things that liked snacking on faeries would leave them alone on principle.”
“Noted.” Ovarrix brought everyone’s attention to the final boss room. “It’s a giant undead sewer alligator. No idea if that gives it any special mechanics besides the miasma, but we’re about to find out.”
The round boss room stretched out over a hundred feet in every direction. Chunks of stone and dirt rose from fetid water. In the middle of the room, a large pool of disgusting brown water contained a suspiciously rotting log of flesh floating calmly. The members of the party eyed each other before Allestor spoke, “Oh no, a perfectly innocent log. I think I’ll go sit on it.” He looked at the party with mirth in his eyes. Their flat stares greeted him. “What? I thought it was funny.”
Dusty edge forward and Allestor supported her right flank. Torgon took aim and opened the combat, his double shot arrows sinking deep into the spongy tattered flesh of the zombie gator. The beast, nearly thirty feet in length, thundered forward with surprising agility for such a large and decaying beast. Dusty struck the beast with her sword as it focused completely on Torgon. Allestor and the rest attacked as well, hoping that Dusty could stabilize the monster’s aggro. Torgon ran around the edge of the room, nimbly leaping pools of water and hopping from island to island. The zombie alligator doggedly pursued him, ignoring everyone else.
Dusty shouted, “It’s ignoring taunts and I can’t pull aggro. I don’t think it has an aggro table.”
Ovarrix paused his attacks to say, “I bet it focuses entirely on whoever damages it first until they’re dead.”
“Great, just great, a little help here?” Torgon panted as he worked hard to stay out of the clutches of the beast. Torgon found himself shouldering his bow and casting heals on himself during his run. The miasma from the beast had polluted the entire room and it took focus to stay ahead of the stacking damage. Dusty and Allestor ran behind the enormous zombie, slashing into its flanks and tearing chunks of flesh away. Black coagulated blood splattered them with every strike.
“My fire spells are useless, but the cold spells slow it down.” Hyperia kept a steady rain of ice bolts and ice shards on the beast.
Torgon kept his pace up, unable to damage the beast while fleeing the crushing jaws. His luck ran out when the mound he jumped to crumbled underneath him, depositing him in the murky water. The alligator grabbed him, crunching into his legs. Torgon screamed in pain. His right leg broke under the force of the zombie gator’s assault. The sound of his agony cut off abruptly when the alligator rolled with him in its mouth. Torgon’s body was rag dolled underneath the water, and he found himself losing consciousness.
He awoke a few seconds later under the blessed coolness of a healing spell pouring into him. The gator no longer spun him about, having succumbed to the accumulation of damage throughout the fight. Dusty and Allestor pried the jaws of the beast open, freeing Torgon’s trapped legs. He added his own healing spells and grunted as the bone in his leg forced itself back into place.
Torgon breathed slowly, willing his heart to stop trying to pound out of his chest. “I do not ever want to repeat that.”
Hyperia moved to the deanimated corpse and opened the loot. “Two more recipes for the potion. There’s also a nifty alligator hide vest that grants a bonus to endurance. It can be worn over other chest armor. Lots of crafting materials. I think the loot reverted to the living alligator other than the recipes.” Hyperia handed Dusty the vest and they distributed the rest of the materials evenly.
A chest appeared in the corner of the room. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, eager to be done with the godsforsaken dungeon.
