Cat Core, Chapter 7.

Chapter 7. 

“Look, you can buy the shield or not, I don’t care. There are plenty of people in line who want to actually buy something. Make your purchases and move out of the way,” the grumpy shopkeeper demanded. 

“You should treat a noble client as a valued asset, not chase them off,” Vanderman replied. Shara cringed as she watched their group leader try, once again, to flaunt his station. 

“Oh, my lord, please forgive this poor peasant. In fact, forget every shopping here again. You father still has not settled his debt with me, out! I’ll not have some penniless noble’s spawn try and lord his title over the good people that pay real coin for their purchases,” the shopkeeper demanded. Vanderman looked like he was going to protest again, but he relented when the son of the merchant, a huge young man everyone called Ox, stepped toward him and glared.  

“Thankfully, we already bought everything we could afford, you really need to learn when to stand down Vanderman. Craxus is an old grump of a merchant, but he is the only game in town for adventuring gear,” Roland said. 

“Fine, did you all at least get the basics?” Vanderman asked. 

“I don’t have everything I want, but it will suffice if our target doesn’t prove too challenging,” Shara replied. 

“Nope, I only picked up one throwing knife. I was lucky to get that with Craxus raising his prices every five minutes,” Roland added. 

“Is your father unable to give us any other support? I thought we were going to be joined by another party member that he recommended,” Shara said. She felt bad for asking the question as she watched her friend Vanderman Kline wilt. Despite his often-arrogant demeanor, she knew he was a good man at heart and only wanted to restore his family fortune. Growing up in the small town of Haxley, the Kline family had once been well respected. A few bad business deals had left Vanderman’s father with little but their title, a title they would likely lose if their fortunes didn’t improve. 

“Maybe, he was supposed to send us more help, but I have no idea who he had in mind. For now, lets get our gear on and head out. It looks like word is spreading, but I think we’re the only ones who know the exact location of the dungeon, that’s one thing at least that father had come through on,” Vanderman added. They moved down the road a bit, leaving town before gearing up with the hodgepodge of weapons and armor that they had scraped together.  

There were few threats in the province, and other than keeping a rather prolific goblin tribe in check, which meant that the chances for adventure were slim. News had filtered through several weeks earlier that a sage was predicting a new dungeon would emerge nearby. Normally, a new and low-leveled dungeon wouldn’t create much excitement, but there was little else for any aspiring adventurers in the area to cut their teeth on before moving to greener and more profitable pastures. Through some means he wouldn’t disclose, Vanderman’s father had a map to what he said was the exact location of the new dungeon. 

Being first to a new dungeon typically meant some really easy runs, and decent loot before the dungeon began to grow in power and other adventuring groups swarmed in. An easy start was just what they needed. The three of them had been friends since childhood, growing up together and dreaming of becoming wealthy adventurers from as far back as they could remember. Before their financial situation took a turn for the worse, Vanderman had been tutored in the military arts. His father had aspired to purchase an officer’s commission for him at some point, but that didn’t pan out. Instead, Vanderman and the others scrimped and saved to purchase bits and pieces of gear when they could, always on the lookout for a chance at adventure. Of the three of them, Vanderman was the only one that looked the part of an adventurer. He was tall and strong, having diligently kept up his exercises even after the weapons instructors had left. 

Shara was trained as a healer, a natural gift she manifested at an early age. She couldn’t afford any armor yet, and had only a small, scuffed up wooden buckler she had found in the shop years ago for a cheap price. Her main weapon was a smith’s hammer that she had just purchased, while meant for the forge, she figured it would do just fine bashing in the heads of some monster. If things went as planned, she wouldn’t even need to swing the hammer and could just focus on buffing and healing her friends. 

Vanderman’s father had once had a custom set of chainmail armor crafted for his son, but that had been sold to pay bills. Instead, her friend made do with a hardened leather breastplate, a steel helm, and a flimsy set of leather greaves that looked like they weren’t going to do much to stop a blow. He still had his favorite longsword, the one item his father had managed to save for him. All of them had a dagger, hers being a simple butcher’s knife from her kitchen. 

Roland was their rogue, or he was supposed to be. He had only apprenticed with a locksmith for one winter and there wasn’t much to practice the skill on in Haxley. She felt he was better suited to being a ranger, the man loved the outdoors and was actually pretty good at setting up and disarming hunting traps. Roland had his hunting bow, a decent weapon, and several quivers of arrows. He had a throwing dagger as well as a longer version belted to his waist. Her friend was short and a bit rotund, not what you would expect a hardened adventurer to look like. 

Shara didn’t fit the image of an adventurer, either. She knew that she was rather plain and wasn’t in the best physical shape. Outside of her two friends, she interacted with others as little as possible. With her parents passed on at an early age, she was comfortable being alone and had learned to make ends meet by helping out with minor injuries that people picked up. There hadn’t been too many serious wounds for her to work on, but with so many farmers in the area, someone was getting cut by tools on a regular basis and needed a healer to seal the wounds and keep them free of infection. 

They all had decent clothes, sturdy and well kept, if not of the latest fashion. Inside the small packs each of them carried was an assortment of gear to help with most situations they would face. Rope, a few iron spikes, water skins, and preserved rations filled most of the bags. Roland had a few traps he had fashioned while hunting and she had confidence that her friend would spot any dangerous dungeon traps before one of them blundered into it.

Once geared up, they followed the main road out of town. The map that they were following showed there was a small trial through the woods that led toward the hill the dungeon was supposedly located under. Traveling on foot, the journey would take around three days. Most of the dangerous wildlife had been cleared out years ago, but the local goblin tribes were dangerous when encountered in large numbers.  

“Hey,” A voice called as a large man stumbled from the forest edge. Hands went toward weapons until Shara recognized the figure. 

“Ox, what are you doing here?” She asked. 

“Hey, I paid for everything, we didn’t steal nothing,” Roland protested. He was right, Roland was a poor pickpocket and slight of hand artist. There was no way that Craxus would have missed any clumsy attempts at pilfering something from the shop. 

“No, I’m not here for shop, I’m here for adventure,” the man said in his rumbling monotone voice. Shara wasn’t sure if there was something wrong with Ox mentally, or if he was naturally shy. 

“What do you mean, you want to join our adventuring party?” Vanderman asked. 

“Yes, your father said I should help you all. I’ve got my own stuff and I’m strong enough to handle monsters in a dungeon,” Ox explained. Pulling a two-headed axe from behind his back. The tool was meant for trees, but in the powerful hands of Ox, she could see that he would dish out some damage. 

“So, it must have been Ox that my dad was talking about when he mentioned another person joining us. I was hoping for a wizard, or spellcaster of some sort,” Vanderman complained. 

“Hey, I’m a spellcaster,” Shara spouted, angry at her magic being discounted. 

“Of course, you are, and you healing power will be crucial, but sometimes you just need a fireball or two inside a dungeon,” Vanderman said. She let him off the hook since he was obviously not trying to insult her powers. 

“Ox cast spells,” the big man exclaimed as he moved his hands in a strange pattern. A ball of light flew from his finger and burrowed into a tree trunk. 

“Nice work, with the axe, and your size, I assumed you were some melee class. What actually is your class?” Vanderman asked. 

“Battle mage, that’s why I got the axe and why I don’t got no armor,” Ox replied. Shara was impressed, knowing the requirements were difficult to meet for someone trying to be good at both melee and spellcasting. For all his simple manner of speech, Ox had to be very intelligent to learn any type of arcane spells. 

“Welcome aboard Ox, I guess. As far as the rest of us, I’m a fighter now, but want to go into the knight class later once we’ve made our fortune. Roland is a rogue, he’s good with his bow and with traps, but don’t ask him to pick any locks. Shara, as you probably know, is a healer, but hasn’t chosen a class yet,” Vanderman said. Shara knew she had a natural affinity with healing but didn’t want to join any of the established churches and gain the cleric class. Most of the organizations were too restrictive and she liked her freedom. Hopefully, some class that appealed to her would open up as they adventured. 

“I didn’t know you were an adventurer Ox, when did you have time to study magic?” Shara asked. While most young people wanted to be adventurers, only a few were selected by the strange powers that controlled Aerkoth and were granted adventuring classes. Sure, someone could train with weapons and become a guard or soldier, but they wouldn’t gain levels nearly as efficiently as a fighter classed adventurer. By the time you were eighteen, you knew whether or not you had been selected. 

“Liked reading magic books in dad’s shop, learned me a couple spells and the system said I was a battle mage,” Ox replied. 

“Thank you for sharing Ox, what does your dad think about you leaving the shop to join us?” She asked. 

“Doesn’t know, didn’t tell him. Don’t want to work there and growl at customers and look scary. I want to explore, I want to adventure,” Ox said, perking up as he mentioned his desire to explore. Shara could agree with his sentiment. The town of Huxley felt like it had been smothering her, and she desired more out of life. 

“Good call buddy, glad to have you on our side. Say, you don’t think you could get your dear old dad to pass your friends a discount, do you?” Roland asked. The only response he got from the taciturn Ox was a shove into the nearest tree. The others laughed as Roland’s health dropped by one percent. 

“I’ll take that as a no,” Roland replied, rubbing his shoulder. 

They marched on in silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts, and if they were anything like Shara, a bit scared at what they would face. Thankfully, there weren’t any problems on their journey, and they made better time than she had hoped. Ox remained quiet, and everyone was getting along well enough. Roland tried to teach them all a card game, one she was sure he would cheat at. It helped pass the time each night as they camped, even if the wagers were only small stones and twigs that they picked up on the way. None of them had enough coin to waste on gambling.

Once or twice, Roland had called them to a halt, thinking he had detected something in the forest around them, but no threats ever emerged. The trail they were following wasn’t very wide and any wagons would have a rough go of it. If there really was a dungeon at the end of the trail they were on, wagons would be sure to follow as the inevitable town grew up around the entrance. While adventurers could make a name for themselves and fortune by exploring dungeons, Shara suspected the real money was made by the merchants and innkeepers that served the adventurers. 

On the third day, the trail through the forest entered a small clearing in front of a hillside. They had reached the dungeon and none of them could do more than stare at the strange sight in front of them. Shara had never heard of dungeon that looked like this before.