Dampest Dungeon: Flower Progeny

What occurs in the deepest depths, where the water flows and it's always wet? /

Slithering flesh, and centipedes, where monsters dwell, and often feed. /

So please take care, and take a torch, hide if you can, lest you be scorched. /

Guard your eyes, and close your mind, or you won't like what you might find.

She's often sweet, not hard to find; They always say that love is blind. /

She smells of dirt, and growing things, but what she grows is quite obscene! /

If you succumb to her foul needs, then you shall carry all her seed!

***

"Hey, who's that, Al?" Sam nudged his partner, who dropped his fork in disgust.

"Who's what?"

"That new girl. She looks plant based."

"So what? My meal looks plant based."

Al frowned, looking at his scalloped potatoes with longing. He'd give almost anything for an uninterrupted meal.

Al had been working with Sam for the last month. At first, their dungeon delving had been successful, the loot rolling in, but as of late they were barely escaping the treacherous flora and fauna with their lives.

It hadn't helped that Al felt less and less like he was pulling his weight on their runs. He had specced out as a tank class, but they were reaching levels where his gear was becoming ineffective.

On their last run, he had practically died while falling into a deadfall trap, and Sam had laughed in his face while extracting him. He shuddered to think what might have happened if he hadn't stashed that extra healing potion in his pack.

The paranoia that something was going to go wrong was getting to him. For their next run, he would suggest that they raid an easier area so he could get materials for some better gear.

He kept eating, ignoring his partner's ebullience, shoveling the potatoes in as fast as he could. He was dog tired, and just wanted some rest.

Monsters were not an unusual sight at the guildhouse. The discovery of a new dungeon had drawn creatures from all over. All of them trying to make a buck. They needed to eat just like anybody else.

Some of them flaunted their assets more than others, however. The guild didn't seem to care how their staff moonlighted. There were more than a few attractive guild workers who also worked as prostitutes. Whoever Sam was talking about was probably just one more.

"I wonder what sorts of sexual acts she can perform with those tendrils," Sam speculated, drinking a mouthful of beer. "I bet she's great in bed."

"Fine," Al sighed, tired of being distracted. He pushed his plate away and cracked his knuckles. "Who has the guild hired this time, and what kind of freaky sex acts are you thinking of performing with her?"

He turned and looked at the quest board, eyes freezing as he caught sight of a stunning plant woman. Curls of red hair billowed over her shoulders, running down to cover the tops of her breasts. She was wearing a set of living armor, twigs and vines curling out from all the attachment points. From her head sprouted a red flower, the interior colored a brilliant yellow. It tilted back and forth as she nodded, a faint sprinkle of pollen blowing off her head like dandruff.

She looked amazing, like someone out his dreams. Admittedly, his dreams were less ambitious as of late, but even so, he could easily imagine what might happen if he had the confidence to proposition her.

A bitter taste settled in the back of his mouth. With the way his finances were going, she was way out of his league. He'd have to grind for months to even afford a single night with her, and that wasn't likely to happen if he kept having to spend all of his hard earned cash on items to keep him alive.

"Gents," she declared, tapping a wooden rod against the bar at the front of the room.

Her voice was soft, but commanding. It drew your attention, like fresh beads of dew on morning leaves. He blinked, mesmerized by her presence.

Turning, she prodded at a series of quests which had been added to the board. "Several female adventurers have gone missing delving on the fourth level. This being a fairly innocuous area of the dungeon, the guild has decided to sponsor search quests for higher level male adventurers only to figure out what's going on."

A female ogre smacked an open palm on her wooden table. "That's blatant discrimination!" she declared, her eye bulging in its socket.

The plant woman looked away, not willing to face the ogre directly. "Sorry ladies, but the guild isn't taking any chances. Even if it's someone of your... caliber."

The ogre grunted and began to gnaw on a bone, grinding it into dust with her sharpened teeth. Her table mates pulled away, turning pale.

The plant woman smiled brightly, addressing the rest of the crowd. "Now, for completing these quests, standard rewards will be quadrupled and you will be given twenty meal vouchers."

The dwarf who was wiping down the counter paused and looked up at the crowd, which was making a sound of disbelief. He grunted. "It's already been paid for," he said with a high pitched voice. "No premium meal items... those are still priced regularly."

A small groan rocked the room, but Al could tell their excitement hadn't been dampened too severely. The chef was a four armed Naga, legendary for the rarity of her race as well as her skill at producing the best quality meals in the region. Of course they were interested.

He was interested, too, but any excitement he felt was tempered by the knowledge that these quests were too high level for him. He was already going to have to grind some of the lower difficulty levels to restock his inventory.

The plant based woman turned, her flower dipping as she smiled brightly. "Who's in?" she asked, grinning as a line of adventurers began to form.

"This is our ticket!" shouted Sam, punching Al's shoulder. "If we accomplish this quest, I'll bet we'll have the capital to push down to level twenty. You've been talking about that since you've arrived!"

Al nodded, his mouth full of potatoes. It was true. Level twenty was the gateway to the richest parts of the dungeon. If he could survive there, he could hire himself out as a guard to protect some of the mining operations, or even be a courier. He could ditch his tank role and get a job where his sole duty wasn't taking the hardest hits dungeon creatures could deliver.

"Let's do it! I'll go register us right away!"

Al frowned, swallowing his mouthful of food. "Hold on, there," he said, chasing the food with a draught of ale.

He lifted a hand and started ticking off points on his fingers. "I'm down to just the one health potion. On our last quest, we lost our rope escaping from a pit, and the lantern is out of fuel. We spent most of our treasure on new equipment and we can barely afford our night's stay at this inn."

Sam guffawed. "All the more reason to take this on! Come on, man, this is fourth level! A milk run! What have we been doing, tenth level? Whatever we run into shouldn't be able to get through your new armor!"

Al put down his mug with a thump. "I'm sorry, Sam, I just need some time to get my head back on straight. Those spiders we faced drained a lot of my constitution with their poison attacks. I'm just not up to taking on something new right now."

Sam shrugged and waggled his eyebrows. "Fair enough. Would you at least be my wingman? I bet the new girl would love hearing some of our adventuring tales!"

Al pulled a piece of parchment out his pocket and examined his stats. He sighed. The meal hadn't completely replenished his health points; he was going to need to lie down for a nap. "No, I really can't. I'm dead on my feet."

"Your loss," replied Sam, pointing at him as he rose from the wooden bench. "I'm still going to give it a shot."

Al rolled his eyes and rapped his knuckles against the table. "Check please!"

His lip curled as he spotted Sam running up to the green plant woman, her curls bouncing as she laughed at one of his jokes. Always the popular one, he thought bitterly. Always the one to whom things came easily.

Damn, he was a sad sack of a man. Yes, he was jealous. He shook himself. Being depressed like this would only spoil any chance they had of winning good loot tomorrow.

He passed several rooms, hearing shrieks of pleasure and muffled, playful banter. Ignoring all of it, he shuffled up a few floors, opening the door to the cheapest accommodations. Lying down on a mat of tattered straw, he did his best to forget his troubles as he shuffled off to sleep.

***

Al woke to a loud thumping noise on the door of his room. He groaned and turned over, ignoring the pricks delivered by his straw mattress.

"Coming!" he shouted, climbing out of bed.

He had fallen asleep in his gambeson, lacking any pyjamas to change into. The entire night was a bust, tossing and turning due to strange noises that penetrated the cheap walls of the inn.

He grunted, moving over to the door. He would have preferred to sleep in the dungeon at this rate. Perhaps next time he would suggest it.

When his hand touched the latch, the door burst open, revealing the wiry form of his partner. He looked like he had just taken a bath, his hair perfectly coiffed. The rings on his fingers sparkled as he gave a half wave. The privilege of being a rogue class.

"Good morning! I told her we'd take the quest! " Sam declared.

"You what?" Al pressed a few fingers to his temple. "You fucked her, didn't you, and she convinced you to do the quest."

Sam at least had the good grace to look embarrassed and a little worried. He blinked, trace of green flashing in his eyes. "She told me that it should be simple for us, and I know you badly need the meal tickets."

Al stepped closer, examining his face. "Is that you or her pollen doing the talking?"

"Just me!" He drew back, haughty. "I did make sure to take a bath afterwards to remove any trace of her influence." He sniffed. Are you happy now? You're always warning me about safety."

Al grunted. He supposed he didn't have a good reason to rebuff the fellow. The quest he had accepted for them was reasonable for their level, and he hated that. Hated that his wishes were being ignored.

"Come on!" wheedled Sam. "With those coupons, we won't go hungry for at least a few months!"

Al frowned and berated himself. He was going to give in, but he detested himself for it. No need to take it out on Sam, though.

He sighed. "I'll be ready in a bit, let me grab my gear, I'll meet you in the lobby."

Sam smiled, that charismatic grin that got him into and out of so much trouble. "Awesome, partner! I know we'll do great!"

Al waved him off, shutting the door. It was going to take more than just words to make this happen.

He grunted, gathering what little remained of his supplies into his haversack. The single, remaining health potion, enough rations for a few days, a fifty foot length of rope, a box of stick matches, and his last torch. Not much for dungeon delving, but it would at least save him from some of the most common pitfalls.

He gathered up his mail and draped it over his shoulders, letting it flow over his sagging belly. He put on a similar covering over his pants, dragging the interlocking links of metal over his knees Plate armor of any kind was far outside his budget, so he had to make do.

There wasn't much in the upper levels of the dungeon which could penetrate his current set of armor, anyway, though toxic liquids were always a concern. That was what he used his shield and polearm for.

The shield strapped to his left arm, and provided limited protection, though he was surely glad he had it when a hedgehog like monster had fired its spines at him.

Even more important was his long spear, topped with a combination pointed tip and axe head. If he could keep the monsters at a distance, he didn't need to test the efficacy of his armor. Prevention was worth far more than a pound of cure.

He slung the sack over his shoulder, tipping his weapon down so that it would fit through the door.

All he felt was a general sense of weariness. He knew he wasn't in the right frame of mind to go dungeon delving. He knew his chances of injury were high. He also knew he had little choice.

This quest had better be worth the meal vouchers, or he would force Sam to do all the dirty laundry. He'd like to see him chatting up one of the bints at the bar while covered in suds.

His mood improving, he whistled as he maneuvered his way down the inn's rickety staircase.

***

The first level of the dungeon was a piece of cake. They had encountered a few small spiders and slimes, which had put up little resistance.

They had utilized their usual tactics on the monsters. Al would push in with his shield and polearm, menacing them at close range. The monsters would invariably try to attack him, at which point Sam would throw off his camouflage and stab them in the back.

It was far more efficient than delving by himself, giving him all the more reason to put up with the rogue. As much as he pained to admit it.

"Say, where are all the other adventurers?" asked Al, cleaning green gunk from their latest conquest off the tip of his weapon. "I expected the entire area to be flooded with delvers."

He had rather thought they would be traveling in a band. Not that he minded the lack of competition, but it was making him nervous.

"They've assigned us to search different areas," replied Sam, rubbing down his knives with a cloth.

He peered at them and smiled, breathing on one and polishing it back to a mirror shine. "I found us an inside track, though. Martia told me on the down low that the largest cluster of missing girls was in the aqueduct sector. Should be a milk run for us to make a sweep through there."

The so-called aqueduct sector had been built by an older civilization which had taken up residence in the dungeon. To survive, they had grown mushrooms and crafted intricate jewelry from mines situated in the lower levels.

Nobody was sure why they had left, but many speculated that they had been driven out as stronger monsters had moved up from below. All that had been left behind was the product of their hard work - a complex system of waterworks routing the underground rivers into reservoirs and millponds.

Adventurers had driven the monsters back out, leaving the sector as a good place for beginners to get some experience. Or seasoned adventurers down on their luck.

Al frowned, bothered at how easy it was for Sam to gather intelligence. "You're on a first name basis with her? What else did she tell you?"

Sam smirked. "Most of it was uncontrollable screaming with a few yesses thrown in for good measure."

Al rolled his eyes. He should have expected as much.

"She did give me an elevator token, though." He dangled a card in front of Al's face.

Al's eyes bulged. "Why didn't you say that in the first place?" he snapped, grabbing the token to examine it more closely.

The rectangular stone had a raised border, with a red gem embedded in the center. Two heralds with long trumpets faced each other, the bells of their instruments resting on top of the jewel. With this, they could gain access to the elevator!

The elevator was special, a vertical shaft blasted through the rock that could take you down into the depths via electrical power. The lift had been built by the vanished civilization, with electrification coming later. Still, only the bravest had tried the lower levels. Many hadn't come back.

That was all immaterial to Sam. With the pass, it would take them a matter of minutes to get down to the fourth level! This quest would be done in time for dinner!

He imagined a bowl filled to the brim with hearty stew, chunks of meat floating in a pool of chicken stock. A loaf of crusty bread accompanied the dish, with a pat of butter served on the side. He could almost see the steam wafting up from the bowl.

He gritted his teeth. "There has to be a catch. There's always a catch."

"No catch," grinned the rogue. "Just a few helpful tips and directions."

"Yes, I'm sure she appreciated your tip just fine."

Sam had the good grace to blush.

"Fine, then, I see no reason to hang around here. Let's get moving." He rolled his shoulders, hefting his polearm.

He was already itching to see combat, which was always a bad sign. Eagerness made him sloppy.

At any rate, it didn't matter all that much with the opposition they were currently facing, and the elevator wasn't that far away.

"Say, Sam, what are you planning to do with the reward?" asked Al.

Sam tucked the elevator token into his vest. "This may come as a surprise to you, but I don't plan on spending the rest of my days down here. Each small quest is a stepping stone to getting out of here and finding something better, no matter how pleasurable some of the... interludes... around here might be."

"So what's your long term, plan, then? Ditch me and go spelunking in the lower levels?"

Sam blinked. "Actually, no. I've done some scouting down to level twenty and that's no place for a sole survivor. My skills work best when I'm in a team. I wouldn't mind picking up some more members for our little group. Closing out this quest may be our opportunity to make us look more attractive."

It was Al's turn to blink. He honestly hadn't thought that Sam was anything more than a pretty face. Maybe it was him who was being the stick in the mud.

He grunted, but said nothing, mulling it over for a moment. "Alright," he said. "If we succeed in this, let's go looking for more party members."

"That's the spirit!" said Sam, skipping ahead. The daggers in his waistband flashed as he turned the corner, his hands held near to their hilts just in case they encountered more monsters.

In any event, they didn't. The rest of their trip to the elevator shaft was surprisingly peaceful.

Sam stood in front of the doors, peering at the edifice quizzically. Traced into the golden rock was iconography of a gang of people mining rocks. What ore they were after was lost to time, though it must have been quite valuable for them to have celebrated the process with such painstaking art.

"It looks like it's supposed to open, but how?" asked Sam.

Al shrugged. He was no wizard with mechanical devices. He was good at soaking up hits, not at solving problems.

He hefted the shield in his hand. "We could try to prize the doors open with my shield, but I doubt it would work."

His mind wandered, as it often did. Waiting around was never his strong suit.

His eyes traced the artwork, moving up the shovel of one of the miners. The rock made it look as though it had been crafted out of solid gold. Just a trick, to be sure, but he wished he had one of those shovels.

Mining seemed like rough, honest work. The type of work that didn't require restocking health potions every evening. It was probably less dangerous than dungeon delving, too. Another strong point for getting out of here and finding a place to settle down.

The handle of the shovel was oddly shaped. Instead of a half circle grip, the end was distorted into a rectangular hole, a shallow depth cut into the rock. Al grinned. Even an idiot like him knew what that meant.

"Here, let me see that token," requested Al.

Sam fished it out of his tunic and presented it to Al, giving him a curious look.

Admiring the gem built into the small stone, he walked up to the door and pressed it into place. A sharp click echoed in the chamber and the gigantic stone doors rumbled open.

"It... worked," declared Sam, brows raised.

Al shrugged. "It was obvious even for me."

Sam groaned. "Don't sell yourself short, you're not an idiot - most of the time." There was a strange gleam in his eyes.

Al grunted, but didn't reply, stepping over the threshold. He was far too busy trying to avoid thinking about how deep the elevator shaft actually was, and whether he would be killed instantly if the car plunged into the depths.