Dungeon Seers have long been a fixture in all of the major civilisations of Pangera; their capacity to detect some aspects of the inner workings of the Dungeon and its mana is an invaluable aid.

It can’t have been easy, in the early times, when exploration of the various strata was even more perilous than it is today. As more of the space was explored, and more was understood, it gradually became clear that the secret to the Dungeon, was mana.

How did it work? How much could be gleaned from it? Mana was everywhere in the Dungeon, it created the rare and valuable materials that could be found and mined, it formed each and every monster that was created and killed. When monster bodies were left on the ground, they dissolved back into mana, absorbed by the Dungeon for its next creation. Everything was mana, even Biomass. If there was a way to “read” the mana, to understand where it had come from, or where it was going, would it be possible to gain insights into the Dungeon itself?

It was these questions that led to the discovery and widespread adoption of Dungeon Seers. Able to peek at the inner workings of the Dungeon. Reading the flow of mana is difficult, requiring experience and wisdom, but the most powerful practitioners of this Class are known to be able to sense significant shifts of energy over hundreds of kilometres.

- Excerpt from “Underneath the Below: Understanding the Dungeon” by Elric.

Criclo leaned back in his chair and unchained his mind once again. The whispers that constantly circled him, nibbling on the edges of his awareness, became shouts roared directly into his ears.

With practised ease, he pushed them away and centred himself. Just another dive, nothing he hadn’t done a thousand times before. He calmed himself by thinking that way, but many had been lost, doing what he did. They went too deep, followed the trails too far. There were beasts out there in the dark. Hungry and patient, they were all too happy to gobble up a Dungeon Seer too far from home.

Yet Criclo had the easy confidence that allowed him to thrive in this profession. He knew his limits. He’d walk right up to the edge, take a look around, but never, not once, had he ever put a toe on the other side.

That’s why he was still alive.

Pushing one’s mind into the mana of the Dungeon was in some ways similar to immersing oneself in a river, or stream. There was a sense of immersion, of being surrounded, enveloped. There was also current, a flow to the passage of energy through the innumerable veins that covered the inside of this world.

Yet the metaphor wasn’t truly apt. The mana of the Dungeon was deeper than any ocean, faster flowing than any river, and more terrifying than any body of water could hope to be.

Bottomless, raging, vast beyond imagination and alive.

Criclo was sure it was alive. He’d only shared his belief with a select few others, those that wouldn’t have him flayed for the heresy, and they’d universally dismissed his claim.

It was fascinating in a way. They saw the same thing he did, but they couldn’t go as deep as he could, never able to range as far. They saw the same thing, but he saw more. His view was wider, wide enough that the seemingly chaotic flows of mana began to show hints of pattern. Of will.

He pushed such thoughts from his mind. Whether the Dungeon was a living thing or not made no difference to his daily task. He was a Dungeon Oracle, paid to sense the deep flow, not to amuse himself with theories.

Down he went, twisting through the veins and racing out in a thousand different directions. As his thoughts followed the flow of mana, he allowed the information contained within to brush against him, just enough to syphon what he needed.

Monsters, monsters and more monsters. Ninety nine percent of what he found related to a monster being created, the energy rushing to a spawn point to create another creature of death and destruction, or one being killed, the remains fading back into the Dungeon and being swept away.

A fight over there, hard to tell between whom. Spells were flying between the sides, the ambient energy being sucked in to fuel the violence.

A new node of water crystals? It was close to the surface, relatively. The Brathians had likely already found it, but there was a chance they hadn’t. He’d report to the Church. With a little luck, they may make a profitable harvest.

What else, what else?

For hours, he slid along the endless pathways, tasting, testing, seeking. Many times, he brushed against the limits of his strength, and with the discipline born of a lifetime of caution, he pulled back every time. It was always so tempting to go a touch further, the sense that a great discovery lay just over the horizon was ever present, but he resisted. Pull back, try another path, see what could be found.

Hold on?

Something different….

Mana was being pulled in, gently on the outskirts, but as Criclo went deeper, he found the current grew stronger as he progressed, until it became a torrent. How many creatures were drawing on the power? Thousands? Tens of thousands? What on Pangera was going on here?

He slowed himself. This was new, and new was dangerous. His mind compressed itself down into a dense ball, and he allowed himself to drift. Every now and again, he would emerge to absorb a hint of information, then pull himself in tight again, smuggling himself deeper into the disturbance.

He extended himself once more, drew in a breath of mana and examined it carefully.

Interesting….

Something was evolving here. Something big. He dared to flit a little closer, hoping to learn more. Except….

Criclo had reached his boundary. He could sense it clearly, in the back of his mind. This was his limit, he shouldn’t go any further. He sighed mentally. He was tempted. More than tempted. But he pulled back, retreating out of the strange vortex of energy and following the veins back to himself.

The moment after he withdrew, two intangible mandibles snapped shut around where the intruder had been. The jaws hesitated, unsure what had happened when they didn’t meet the resistance they had expected to find. After a moment, they faded away and Brilliant shook herself back to alertness within the nest.

She flicked her antennae.

“Well that’s not good.”