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The Dungeon, Medea Island

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I started my experiments with the obvious; throwing mana at the material and seeing what happens. As the mana pooled in each of the three metals I'd discovered I pondered what their discovery meant.

I studied some geology at university before I'd become a dungeon, and I know that metals and minerals don't form these convenient ore veins. For instance, gold veins in rock are formed through precipitation and found within metamorphic rock. All this rock here? Igneous.

I expected some kind of metal, but I expected it to be so diffused through the rock that extracting it would be a pain. Instead I have around seven veins of ore uncovered so far; each composed of one of the three kinds of metal. And another thing! Where ore veins do exist they're typically minerals composed of several different elements. These all seem to be relatively pure deposits.

It's... extremely confusing to me. Then again; magic is a thing and so are gods. Perhaps some god of the underground or god of wealth, akin to Hades or Pluto, is responsible for this?

... Just in case. God of the underground and/or wealth, I thank you for your bounty?

...

No response.

Probably for the best.

Back to the metals. Each has had their own reaction to mana. The more silvery metal, which I'm becoming more and more convinced is actual silver, became even more lustrous and now gives off a slight glow.

It's not radiation, thankfully. Just an effect of the mana embedded in the metal. I had a Kobold test the metal for me. A quick check later and I had his name: Tear. Turns out he's the son of Teka, the Fire Shaman. The mana in his core was slightly more inclined to flame, and the slightly pointed nature of said core continued to be fascinating to me.

It was nowhere near the cores of the humans, little more than nubs, but the fact that a Kobold's cores was even starting to resemble them was... incredible. Does Sapience truly effect the core's shape? If their cores fully mimic those of humans, will they too gain that same mana interference?

I've gone on a tangent again.

The metal was put through its paces. We banged it on rocks, banged the un-enhanced version against it and so on. There was a lot of stress-testing involved.

It was hard, but not impressively so. It still dented and warped under pressure.

Until I know otherwise, I will consider the unaltered metal silver, and the enhanced version Moon-Silver, as a nod to the ethereal white glow.

The second metal was unmistakably copper. That orange colour covered in greenish oxidation was a dead giveaway. Its enhanced version abandoned the colour orange entirely and fully accepted the green; resulting in a very jade-like metal. The green colour varied between the lines from a light lime-green to a deep forest green. It didn't fracture any easier between layers and the colour changes were abrupt and seemingly random.

There is only one name I can give this; Orichalcum. Why? Because it's made from copper and found in a mountain.

The final metal, I believe, is Iron. It underwent the same transformation Mushu's morningstar did, becoming much, much tougher and slightly more reflective and silvery.

Now that I've secured a source of metal that isn't looting from the corpses of invading guilders, I can start really outfitting my monsters. But first, I need someone to work the metal.

Tear. I name you Forgemaster, and grant you all the knowledge I have on metalworking.

Thank you, Creator! He replied, the fervor in his mental voice evident.

Prepare for your enhancement. I advised. I gave him a minute, then proceeded.

Tear's height ballooned from the mere 4 foot frame of a Kobold Villager to rivaling Mushu at his 7 feet. His frame was likewise expanded; the thin and agile form would do him no good in a forge. Muscles and the equivalent strength filled out his newly expanded skeleton. I gave him all the same markers as Mushu, various horns and scale patterns, to denote him as another Drake-kin. The transformation took most of the night, in order to bring him to a similar level of power.

When he seemed to have acclimated to his new size, I provided him the memories I promised. It wasn't much, unfortunately. Not many smiths risking their lives in my dungeon, after all. The memories mostly composed of my own knowledge on metals and their properties.

I provided him a space to work, and a couple of less-enhanced Kobolds to act as assistants.

With that sorted, my mental gaze shifted back to the seventh floor. I'd selected its theme.

I widened and squared off the tunnels, sourcing some wood to provide (unnecessary) support to the tunnels. I continued excavating, expanding the scope of my new mines. Any metal in the way I gave to Tear to practice with. Any veins in the walls I left alone, though I did sprinkle a few of the enhanced materials throughout.

That morning, I was filled with a rush of enthusiasm. I had a theme, now the floor could truly come to life. By the time morning arrived I had mentally drafted a blueprint of the floor and was about half-way through the digging. I barely noticed when the guilders began their daily delves.

As I dug, I pondered potential monsters. There were the Kobolds, of course. Toughened up to the level of Tear's assistants they could provide a decent threat. Or... hmm. I've got all those cores still lying about. Maybe it's time to do something with them.

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Castle Plaised, Western Phenoc Kingdom, Theona

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The Grand Duke Alto Plaised was not pleased.

"Say that again." He demanded, leaning forward in his throne to glare at the shivering messenger kneeling at the base of the dias.

"My Lord, a messenger eagle arrived this morn carrying a scroll sent from Medea island. The message therin reads: 'The dungeon is tougher than expected. Three party members lost on the third floor. Further aid requested.'"

"FURTHER AID?!" He exploded, the anger and grief in his chest twisting and writhing. "Those incompetent Gorges can't deal with one lousy dungeon?!" He trembled, attempting to reign in his anger. No fault lies with the messenger, he reminded himself.

Beside him, his wife sits in her own throne. She too is trembling with suppressed grief. "My son lies dead, and these guilders who owe us deeply dare to ask for more." Just being reminded of their debt soured his mood further.

"We raised their house from simple landowners to ruling an entire county. We provide them with the opportunities to improve themselves and advance within the guild. After all that, I offer to wipe away any remaining debt if they avenge my son. My heir." Plaised had originally been pleased that his second son had taken his younger sister and joined the Guild. It was expected in the kingdom that spares would make themselves useful. Joining the guild was a dangerous pursuit, but the advantages years of careful breeding had availed them would provide significant aid.

Now his eldest son was slain, by poison. Not even the greatest healers of the dukedom could heal him, or even ease his suffering. Not two days after his heir had passed, and one after having sent for his second son and new heir, his third daughter returned to the castle. Less his son.

The story she told was of a monstrous dungeon, newly discovered off the eastern coast. The local guilders had delved its first floor regularly to mild resistance, and her brother was sure they could push through to the second. The dungeon had sensed their intent and struck her brother down without warning.

'We could not recover his body,' his daughter had relayed through tears, 'it was all we could do to stay alive ourselves.'

With his two sons dead, he had no direct heir to his line. With the passing of his own sons, his brother Gerrek was now his heir. His younger brother had three sons of his own, and their house would be secure in his hands.

Alto Plaised had immediately sent a message to the Guild's Great Hall in the capital, declaring the bounty on the dungeon. He had arranged for the Gorge twins, having grown to platinum rank guilders, to travel there themselves.

He had expected this whole mess to be done with in less than a month. It was known that lost dungeons were above the average in their defense, but a determined party of Platinums had proved enough to clear them.

It seemed, however, this one was different.

He waved for some parchment and a quill. In minutes he had drafted two official messages. One to the guild, one in response to the Gorge twins. He stamped both with a wax seal and waved the messenger forwards.

He handed him the scrolls. "Pass this to the guild, and have this delivered to Medea Island. Quickly." The messenger, who passed off the message scroll he already possessed to one of Alto's attendants, took the new scroll and left with due haste. Alto then turned to his seneschal.

"Call the Hanvers and Lokans to court. They are to present themselves at the earliest opportunity."

"Of course, my Lord." The man responded, bowing and retreating to a side room.

"What of the Gorge Twins?" His wife asked. "And their 'request'"

"We will provide no aid." He quickly answered. "They have failed. They can do what they please, but soon I feel it will not matter."

He turned and faced the closing door at the end of his throne room, watching the messenger leave with his message. Maybe doubling the bounty would provide a greater incentive.

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Somewhere in the Dungeon, Medea Island

Six Days after Confinement

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Kataren knew she was experiencing something extremely strange, perhaps unprecedented in history. A Lost Dungeon has taken her captive, placed her in a cell, given her a place to relieve herself and continues to provide food and water?!

When she had been electrocuted in the fight against the third floor guardian she expected either death, or to wake up to find her friends victorious. Instead she was here, in a stone cell with no obvious door.

The slits between the thick bars barely allowed her fingers past, though she felt she could push her entire palm through if she was willing to lose some skin. The hole in the floor was obvious in its use. The water provided was limited, and more quenching when left to gather for a few hours. The delivery of fruit by a squatter and thinner version of the lizards they had fought on the third floor was more perplexing.

The Cell, she could understand. It was a place the conquerors had used to keep prisoners. The Dungeon keeping her alive and sending monsters to feed her was where she lost that understanding.

Why?

Why was she alive?

She had no answers. She didn't believe the monsters would tell her either. If they even have a language, it'll be some weird language only they can use, with noises only they can make.

So, left alone with nothing to do but think, she thought.

Dungeons have no reason to keep guilders alive, they gain the memories of the guilders they kill. But Kataren wasn't dead and absorbed by the dungeon. She was in a cell.

Which means, the dungeon has a use for her.

The thought made her shudder. What use could the dungeon have for a living, breathing Guilder? To study her? To watch her? To experiment on her? Oh, by the gods she hoped not. She didn't want to be some dungeon's plaything.

The sound of clawed steps drawing closer signaled her next delivery of food. Newly terrified of what the dungeon had in store for her, she huddled into the far corner of the cell.

The lizardman hissed and pushed two of the same mandarin-like fruit through a slot located at the base of one of the bars. Likewise, it was too small to fit more than an arm through.

Once the lizardman's clawed steps faded from hearing she moved to her food. She frowned. These two were... different.

There was indeed a very noticeable change. These new fruits were especially vibrant and large. Kataren bit into the fruit, skin and all. Then she moaned in pleasure. This... is delicious! She realized. The fruit was juicy, succulent... and the flavor! There was just... something more about it.

Before she realized what she was doing, she had finished the first fruit and started on the second.

Then she was done. The fruit was gone. She sighed in regret that the fruit was gone. It was magnificent. The texture and flavor...

She must have lost herself in thought. In what seemed like no time at all, the fruit-deliverer was back. This time Kataren was not in the corner, she was watching the food-slit with the hawk-like eyes her enhanced physique had provided her. When two mandarins rolled through she grabbed at them, suddenly desperate.

The first bite revealed this fruit was not the same as the last. Where those had been incredible, these were bland and tasteless in comparison. She still ate them, just in case.

But it wasn't enough. She needed more!

Looking down, she saw the puddle of juice remaining from her hasty consumption of the first two. She leaned over, licking at the delicious juice! Suddenly, a thought cut through the haze.

What am I doing?!

She threw herself away, once again huddled in the familiar corner. She stared at the remaining puddle of mandarin-juice, feeling only terror and need.

I am being experimented on, then. Kataren thought, the majority of her mind terrified at her loss of control.

Even as another part of her longed for another mandarin.

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