Saga of the Soul Dungeon

“A few minutes ago every tree was excited, bowing to the roaring storm, waving, swirling, tossing their branches in glorious enthusiasm like worship. But though to the outer ear these trees are now silent, their songs never cease.”

-John Muir

==Zidaun==

The meadow had a different name now.

You have entered the:

Aqueduct Cascade Meadows

As we stepped off the drawbridge and onto the pathway, leaving the town and its walls behind, we could see other changes too. This path followed the aqueduct, the tall stone pillars of the aqueduct arching up into the air. Greenery grew in abundance around the stone, and tiny trickles of water could be seen here and there. Each bit of water was marked with a profusion of green moss and lacy curtains of delicate vines. Flowers bloomed like tiny multicolored stars in the deep green.

Outside the town were the ruined remnants of fields. Ancient wooden structures showed only the barest remains. Though a stone well showed mostly intact under a thick layer of choking vines and briars.

The fields themselves were mostly overgrown with weeds and a few small trees. The trees clumped together into tiny copses. A few segments of ripe grain persisted, their golden color striking among the gathered greenery.

Should go check out the grain. Let my people know they can harvest it.

“Let’s go look at the fields,” I said. “If we can harvest the grain, it would be a good food source.”

“Not really good for us, is it?” Gurek grumbled. “We certainly don’t have the skills to thresh it, and I think it has to be dried first…”

“What, you don’t know how to make bread?” Inda asked archly, one of her eyebrows quirked at him.

“Never said that,” he mumbled. “If it was flour, sure. I could make flatbread. Don’t have the skills to make it rise. Don’t want to try grinding flour by hand though…”

Gurek looked at me speculatively.

“You know, you could probably make a mill. Or maybe just crush the flour directly. Move a little stone around.”

I considered it for a moment. I didn’t actually know how all the gears in a mill were supposed to work. However, if I just needed to crush it down to flour, that was probably easy enough. I could imitate some of the dungeon’s powers, so I could probably force the grain to dry out with heat.

Eh, too much work. And I don’t have any idea how to thresh grain either.

“I probably could make flour, but we are going to be busy with other stuff. If the grain looks good though, I’ll let my people know. I am sure someone will know how to make it into bread. I’ll even get some for us.”

Gurek started to walk quickly.

“Well, come on, what are you waiting for?”

The rest of us chuckled as we followed.

The scudding clouds overhead cast alternating shadows between beams of light. The wind had picked up, making trees look like frenetic dancers, and the clouds moved faster with it. The clouds had grown thicker as we explored and now were dark and heavy. The air was rich with the scent of plants, earth, and humidity.

The fields were close, and only a minute of walking was required before we reached them. The fields and the area around them were dotted with large holes in the ground. As we approached, large plate-mice squeaked with rage as they emerged.

The battle was bloody and swift, none of us bothering to hold back. We didn’t see the whole colony emerge, as I could sense many still in the twisting tunnels below the surface, but more and more came out to fight from various holes as we got closer to the grain.

However, since they didn’t all emerge in a single rush, newbies should be able to stop and flee if they needed to retreat.

The grain itself was the perfect golden brown of ripe grain. I wasn’t an expert, but Gurek confirmed it was wheat.

“And damn good wheat, too.” He said. “Good enough to make quality pasta, if it was flour. You,” he pointed at me. “better get us some flour too.”

“Making food, huh?” Inda said. “Perhaps you should open up a restaurant here.”

For a moment Gurek’s face looked contemplative, before he frowned.

“Nah, but I can always charge you for what I make, Inda.”

She sputtered at him, glaring.

“That is not what I meant, and you know it.”

Gurek snickered.

Firi and I looked at each other and smiled. I rolled my eyes at him and his smile got larger.

“Time to go,” I said diplomatically. “I’ll tell the Adar later.”

Best to stay out of their banter.

Gurek’s face turned serious again, and we headed out of the field toward the road.

We dealt with more plate-mice along the way, but we reached the pathway soon enough.

We proceeded along the path, which was mostly variations on the same type of encounters we had dealt with in the Meadows before. We went somewhat faster than we had before, not particularly concerned about the dangers here.

We were cautious enough that we could retreat easily, but we didn’t really expect any true danger.

Midway through the path, the clouds opened and it began to rain.

“Really!” Inda shouted at the heavens in futility. “Rain in a dungeon?”

“Makes sense,” Said Firi.

Inda turned her glare onto him.

“It’s meant to be the wilderness, right? So dealing with the weather is part of that.”

Inda’s face was sour but she simply nodded and sighed.

Tiny rivulets of water made their way down the path, and the earth grew damp. Muddy sections made the road slippery.

The rain intensified into a downpour, and curtains of rain flung themselves onto us, carried enthusiastically by the wind. Visibility was swiftly declining.

“We’ll need to stop!” I shouted above the rain. “Follow me!”

We were next to a hill, the pathway winding its way around the base of it, with the aqueduct to the other side.

I trudged toward the base of the hill, the earth soggy and slopping beneath east step. As I got closer I could sense a small cave hidden into the hill. Fortunately it had no occupants at the moment.

Fortunate for them. I wouldn’t have bothered to fight, I would have simply crushed them with the surrounding earth.

The cave was rather small, the entrance hidden by layer of plants. I pushed them to the side as I shouldered my way in. I crouched in the entrance, unable to stand up fully, and the others followed me inside.

I shored up the cave with more stone, closing my eyes, focusing and tuning out the rest of the world. Then I gradually expanded it, make it taller, and the entrance larger. Plants fell off the entrance as they lost their grip, the dirt giving way to stone.

I opened my eyes, and Firi caught them with a smile.

Inda and Gurek were, quietly, bickering, obviously trying not to interrupt my work.

Someone had activated several heat stones and set them on the ground. They warmed the cave, even with our wet clothes.

“Welcome back,” Firi said.

I chuckled.

Around us the cave was a mishmash of stone grown up into arches above our heads. They were enough to maintain support for as long as we were here.

With the plants removed, their was a clear view out into the storm.

The wind howled, and the grass was flattened in waves only to stand up and be flattened again. The rain lashed the earth with whips of water, leaving welts of running streams behind. Mist sprung up from the cold rain, obscuring the view, only to be reduced to tattered shreds by the wind, making the view intermittent.

Growing streams of water joined into a flood, cascading through the meadow over small cliffs. The lower section of the path we had followed was now buried beneath a growing rush of raging water. Rapids raged over rocks in the low valleys between the hills.

We would have been safe enough in the upper sections of the path, but lower areas were deathtraps now. The water would sweep away anyone who tried to get through it without the proper skills.

The scene was beautiful and deadly, and I was sure it was an omen of things to come. A uniquely crafted blend of the two, that would define the experience of this dungeon.

“It’s beautiful.” I said.

“It is,” Firi softly agreed.

Firi and I came closer to each other and I rested my head on his shoulder and we stared out into the storm. Mostly warm, and getting warmer as our clothes dried, we stood together. Each of us enjoying the others company.

Eventually, the storm blew past, the wind settling back down. The clouds parted and sunlight streamed through the cracks, filling the world with light once again.

Now sufficiently dry, Inda was scribbling out a map with a light stone held in her other hand. The storm over, we prepared to resume our exploration.

The ground was still soaked with water, but the floods had emptied almost as quickly as they had come. Small bits of branches and stones were scattered, where they had been ripped free and carried away by the wind and waters.

Everything glistened, the greenery shining with a coat of shedding water. Drops of water captured the sunlight, making ephemeral gems that sparkled with inner light. Tiny beads gathered together only to drip off the ends of leaves into small pools, rocks, other plants below, casting out ripples and the faint sound of water splashing and dripping. Each single drop was almost inaudible, but together sufficient to paint the world with the sound of water gently dripping down. Insects added their own music, faint creaking and chittering.

We didn’t talk, just walked through the stillness left in the storm’s aftermath. A stillness that was not disturbed by the sound of the dripping water, but rather punctuated by it. The sound of the water only acted as an emphasis to the calm, a reminder of the storm’s previous rage now stilled.

The stillness shattered when a monster leaped out to attack us.

It was nothing special, merely a monstrous centipede and we removed it instantly, but it broke the spell of an enchanted world.

Sadly, we had to return to business.

We were about midway through the Meadows when we came upon another change. A spillway in the aqueduct unleashed a wide waterfall that plunged into a large pool below. The path gave way to a short stone bridge, just above the water, and it passed over a narrow section of the pool where the waters rushed between the still depths. The pool fell in another waterfall to our right and became a rapid rushing rocky river. It wended round and through the hills, carving out its own path, and out of sight.