Zanzital fidgeted with the octagonal “key” that had to be a trick of the Destroyer. There was power to it, some old enchantment that hadn’t quite worn off, even though he couldn’t find any sign of the monster core that powered it or any way to insert his own mana. That, too, said that it was of the Destroyer; legend spoke of things that acted strangely, dangerously. Things that took their mana from their surroundings instead of from a user or a monster core.

Once upon a time, Zanzital wouldn’t have worried about that, but the Zanzital of today knew better. He knew exactly how bad taking a risk that didn’t exactly kill you could be and that warnings weren’t always someone else keeping you from power. He’d learned that the hard way.

Zanzital watched the others gather up the paperwork and mused on their leader. He was strange; he didn’t seem to even notice the repeated disrespect Zanzital aimed at him. Yes, Zanzital was a Tier higher, but he was a Knife and Serenity was a Hand. If he stepped far enough out of line, Serenity would be within his rights to kill Zanzital; many Hands took advantage of that fact. If Zanzital even fought back, he’d be hunted down.

Zanzital knew that all too well; he’d worked for many Hands over the years. Most left Knives alone, but few would put up with as much as Serenity had and even fewer would put up with it without comment. Lower Tier Hands tended to be more sensitive; the two that he’d seen who didn’t care as long as he did his job were both far higher Tier than Serenity, and Zanzital had always assumed that they didn’t care because of the Tier difference. Maybe he had it backwards?

No, that was a silly thought. Personality didn’t make you Tier up faster. It was more likely that Serenity came from one of the rare societies that valued skill over Tier; it would explain a lot about his group. They were weirdly low Tier to accompany a Tier Eight, but they were a surprisingly good combination of skills. Zanzital usually thought the notion was ridiculous, but if more groups were like Serenity’s it might make some sense.

Legion was incredible; anyone would be happy to have an ally like that. Ita’s ability with portals was just as incredible; very few people could teleport an army in only a few hours and that was what she’d done. Kerr didn’t seem to have any special abilities, but she was clearly experienced with forming an army on the fly with little oversight from people who hadn’t worked together before; Zanzital knew just how hard that was.

Zanzital hadn’t thought much about the others until this trip, but Raz was shockingly useful and Blaze was incredibly flexible for someone who only used Fire and healed. He still had no idea what Rissa could do that was special; she seemed like little more than a concubine, but she wasn’t treated that way. Instead, she was treated more like a young mistress-in-training by the others. It was odd; Zanzital could only assume it meant she was valuable for something he hadn’t seen yet.

He flipped the coin in his hand, then glanced down at the octagonal shape. He was treating it entirely too casually; was it influencing him to do that?

Surely he was fine. He’d sense something messing with his mind. It was something some Destroyer relics could do, but he’d always heard that it took time. Was that just wishful thinking or was it true? He couldn’t be sure of his own mind; that was the worst thing about Destroyer artifacts. He wanted to take the key and find out what it unlocked, but he couldn’t be sure that wasn’t just a trick of the key.

Zanzital set the key down and stepped away from it. He should let someone it hadn’t influenced make the decision. “I think we should leave the key behind,” Zanzital offered. He wasn’t sure he believed that, but he also wasn’t sure that he was the one who wanted to take the key. “Destroyer artifacts shouldn’t be used.”

The statement got everyone’s attention, but Zanzital watched Serenity. He’d be the one to decide what they did; Zanzital knew both Raz and Blaze would go along with whatever Serenity decided. He wished he could get so much confidence in his leadership out of his own subordinates! Daryl was never willing to just follow orders.

Serenity’s reaction was just as muted as ever. Zanzital wondered what it took to get a rise out of the man. “Is the key the artifact you’re worried about or is it what the key opens?”

Zanzital frowned. He hadn’t tried to split the danger that way; Destroyer artifacts were terribly dangerous to those who tried to use them and that was enough. Still, it was easy enough to answer. “Whatever it opens will be worse, but the key itself could have hidden dangers.”

Serenity nodded, then pulled a cloth bag out of that odd space he used instead of a normal storage bag. It was simple, but Zanzital could tell without any trouble that the bag was silk and that it was specifically constructed to store and isolate magical items. Such things weren’t perfect, but they would help.

They were fairly expensive and not commonly useful, so Zanzital increased his already high estimate of Serenity’s wealth. Only the scion of a prosperous clan would spend Etherium so frivolously, but Zanzital already knew Serenity was more than he said he was. The simple fact that he had Tier Eight dragonscale armor and a Tier Eight manablade gave that away.

Admittedly, the fact that Serenity claimed to be half-dragon probably partly explained the dragonscale; it could be made of shed scales. A Clan that included dragons would find that much cheaper. Nothing would explain Serenity’s other oddities better than a wealthy background. Rich clans were strange and a rich clan of dragons should be even stranger.

Zanzital didn’t protest when Serenity picked up the key with the bag, then tied the bag shut around it. It was clear he’d been listened to, but it was also clear that Serenity wasn’t willing to give up on the key. Zanzital simply had to hope that whatever calamity it brought would avoid Takinat.

“I have suspicions about the key,” Serenity commented. “I think I know someone who can tell us more about it. I don’t see any mana leaking from it, but I’ll be careful just in case. If it’s what I think it is, then how dangerous the place it opens is depends almost entirely on who opens it.”

Zanzital paused then turned slowly towards Serenity. “You know what it opens?”

The half-dragon shrugged. “Maybe. I can get confirmation when we’re back in Takinat. On that note, I think we’re done here; let’s get moving.”

There wasn’t much to the rest of the dungeon; there were a few more rooms but nothing that Zanzital found interesting. There would probably have been some minor rewards scattered through them if they weren’t taking the key and the papers, but Zanzital knew those were the main purpose of the trip.

He’d have to get his hands on them at some point; he needed to pull together a report and knowing who these people were would help a lot. Zanzital had never heard of a “House of the Seventh Blossom,” so that was probably a code phrase of some sort. If he went through the rest of the papers, he might be able to figure out who the Viper really was. Zanzital doubted he was actually a Lord of anything.

When they finally reached the exit, Zanzital made certain to lag behind. There was no way he could clear this dungeon alone; he didn’t think he could get a group of Silver Blades together to take care of it nearly as easily as this group had, either. Daryl and Gabriel were coming along in their blind-fighting, but they weren’t up to an invisible boss with invisible minions that separated the group.

That meant he needed to take care of everything on this trip if he wanted success later, and he couldn’t afford to give up a dungeon like this. It would be excellent training, but more importantly it ought to have some really interesting treasure. A third priority was keeping it from having a dungeon break; it was a long way to Takinat, but Hollow Ones would spread if they got out.

The dungeon core was inconspicuous, simply a piece of rock in the wall that happened to have a crystalline sheen if you managed to catch it with a light. He’d never have found it without the Skill that led him to it. Many dungeons tried to hide their cores like that; they might succeed against an ordinary delver, but any Dungeon Binder would know where it was.

Zanzital set his hand on the core and pushed his mana into it. That was all it took to activate Bind.

[4 of 9 Binding Slots filled]

[Attempt to Bind the Dungeon ‘Viper Base’?]

Zanzital wished he could skip the questions; they were always the same.

Wait. 4 of 9? He had five dungeons! What was going on back in Takinat? There weren’t many things that could break a Dungeon Binding; the most common was someone else taking over the dungeon, but surely the Silver Blades would have noticed that. It was generally not subtle. Perhaps it was one of the minor dungeons? He’d mostly talked to Daryl and Gabriel, and they rarely ran the lesser dungeons anymore. That might explain it.

He was definitely going to have to look into that when he got back to Takinat; if it was one of the minor dungeons, he didn’t care but three of his dungeons were vital to the support of his Guild. He couldn’t afford to lose them.

Well, with this new dungeon he might be able to afford to lose one. That didn’t mean he wanted to and he definitely had to know who took his dungeon. The only other real possibility was that a dungeon had been destroyed and there was no way Daryl and Gabriel wouldn’t know about that.

Zanzital returned his attention to the dungeon in front of him. He could plan out what needed to happen next after he saw the secrets of this dungeon.

Yes.

[Dungeon Binding rejected. Attempt forceful Binding?]

Zanzital sighed, mildly aggravated by the question. The Voice always asked that question and the answer was always the same. He wouldn’t have tried to bind the dungeon if he wasn’t willing to make it happen. Yes.

[Warning: The dungeon ‘Viper Base’ has not been designated as ‘requiring guidance’ by the Dungeon Deity. If you bind this dungeon, you will not be eligible to join the faith without approval or reversal of this action. Do you wish to attempt a forceful binding despite this?]

That warning was new. Zanzital read through it, then started over and read it again. He’d never heard of a Dungeon Deity; more importantly, this was his Path. It was far more important than being allowed to join a faith he didn’t know and didn’t care about.

It was something he’d need to look into, however. If there was a God of Dungeons, who knew what could happen? Would the deity empower dungeons to send monsters out more often or in larger numbers? Would it allow them to break free of a Binder’s control? Was that how he lost a dungeon, not the action of another Binder?

Yes, Bind the dungeon.

Searing pain shot through Zanzital’s head as he forced the dungeon to submit. It resisted far more than a Tier Six dungeon should, but while it effectively drained his mana and left Zanzital shaking in pain, he won. He’d have to come back later to adjust the dungeon. With the teleport node nearby, that would be easy enough.

Lillene

It wasn’t my intent when I wrote the story, but Serenity’s group now reminds me of a D&D or Pathfinder party. They all have backstories, some tragic and others bland. Two of them knew each other before it all started. They all cover different niches and while they’re generally all combat-effective, most of them also bring something else to the table that doesn’t overlap with what the others bring.