Chapter Four—Final Piece

It was certainly the rock depicted on the map. The next marker was a dip in the mountains on the horizon. Before going to the next one, the two men stopped and had some water, then pressed on, navigating the roads and the passes with their camels.

The sun was hot, but they kept cool by wetting their head cloths and resting during the hottest parts of the day.

Shiro had seen other dungeons before, raided them, killed the monsters and avoided the traps. He was an experienced adventurer. There were guild houses that paid for the various kinds of loot, both organic and item-related alike.

The good thing about dungeons, or the bad thing depending on who you asked, was that they regenerated. The only way to destroy a live dungeon or a magical dungeon was to find the core and rip it out.

The cores were often hidden, hard to find, and guarded.

“Why does no one know about this dungeon?” Shiro asked as they came into the high pass between two rocky mountains.

“There’s a map,” Ali said, taking a sip of his water, “Because it’s hidden.”

“I know.”

“There’s something there someone wants to keep secret. The old man said there was legendary loot.”

“Do you think the guild houses here will have the coin to pay us for such an item?”

Ali shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. If they can’t pay us, we’ll go somewhere else until we find a buyer.”

In these lands settlements and small kingdoms dotted the hills and mountains. None of them were particularly large. It was quite provincial.

“Now,” Ali said, taking his half of the monster-velum map and slapping it atop a rock, “Let us combine the map again to find the next landmark.”

Shiro unrolled his portion and put it next to Ali’s. The images came together. On the map, there was an expanse of desert wasteland, but according to what had been put there, an oasis existed—one not previously discovered.

This is the old man’s drawings.

Perhaps it was new, come into being from the dungeon itself?

When magic was involved it was best not to question the intent of whatever gods put it there. Such powers could make water holes appear, trees grow within days, natural dungeons fester like diseases that spawned monsters.

Shiro was curious about the dungeon. The map only showed a geometrical drawing, as if the dungeon consisted of nothing more than a structure.

He frowned. “Perhaps it is not a dungeon?”

“What do you mean?”

“Look,” he said, fingering the map. “It could be a tomb.”

“Or a dungeon tomb.” He got up and checked his packs. “I have enough water for four more days.”

They had been traveling for a day already. Shiro checked his water and food stores. He had eight large water skins left. About the same as Ali.

“If we had more money,” he said, “we could afford enchanted water containers that hold enough liquid to last us a month.”

Shiro nodded. “Maybe after, we will have enough money to buy these containers.”

Ali smiled. “It’s in the hands of the gods!”

“No,” Shiro said. “I have my sword.”

“Ha!”

They looked at the map some more, guessing at the length of the journey. It was about three days away.

“We can refill our water when we arrive.”

“What if there is no oasis? No water.”

Ali chuckled. “Do you want to wait? We know not whether other adventurers are on their way as we speak!”

Shiro shook his head. Dungeons were so rife there weren’t enough adventurers to explore them. “I do not think so.”

“Have some faith, my infidel friend.”

“Me? You’re the one who said someone else might raid the dungeon first,” Shiro countered. “I think you need the faith.”

Ali chuckled.

It took some convincing, but with expert headsmen on Shiro’s trail, he didn’t need to be pushed very hard to agree to something so reckless as traveling with limited water stores into a desert wasteland.

And besides… Ali was experienced in these things. He was a natural survivalist. He could find water in the ground if they had need.

Or so he said…

And so the two adventurers set off into the desert making for the oasis.