Robin flung himself against the nearest wall, trying to minimise the target he presented to the falling stones. Even so, he took several blows from small chunks of falling rock and began to bleed from several cuts and abrasions caused by the razor-sharp stones.

A stalactite slammed into the ground not two inches from where he stood and exploded into large fragments. While he escaped impalement, Robin was lacerated deeply by the flying stone. One fragment glanced off his forehead as it whizzed past. Stinging, salty blood began to run freely from the wound, dripping into his eyes, blinding him temporarily.

It was like his world was on fire. The salt in his blood sizzled in his eyes. Robin blinked rapidly ands hurriedly sang out a [Healing Note]. He was running low on stored energies, but if a head wound wasn’t cause to dip into his reserves he didn’t know what was.

The fiery pain in his forehead eased, but it took several long moments of blinking before he cleared his eyes enough to see once more. Even then, his vision was blurry and indistinct in places.

The rain of stone had ceased, but it had done plenty of damage. To his party as well as to the surrounding terrain. Thick clouds of grey dust filled the air, and the floor was an uneven sea of rubble that made his ankles twinge just looking at it.

Drev was unconscious on the floor of the tunnel. He, Jhess, and Savra were remarkably only lightly injured. He must have conjured another shield to protect them, though clearly there had been a cost.

Wulfram was unscathed. Either the massive man had not even been hit (unlikely) or he had peculiarities that warded him against this kind of damage, somehow. Magic or extreme martial prowess or something. There were still so many mysteries in this world for Robin to unriddle.

Khavren was standing next to the porter. The knight was battered almost as badly as his armour. He was definitely not shining at the moment. Grey dust and dirt caked his face and clumped around the trails of blood that ran from dozens of small cuts and lacerations on his face and hands.

‘I will smash this vile core to smithereens when we find it,’ the knight was ranting. ‘I’ll shatter it to shards and grind the bits to dust so fine—’

‘Khavren!’ Savra’s voice was sharp. ‘That goes directly against Guild protocol. Living dungeons are not to be shattered except in the gravest of circumstances where they post a clear and present danger to civilisation. So far, all this one has done is knock us about a bit.’

‘It employs foul shapeshifters!’ Khavren protested. ‘And it’s nearly killed us! With craven and cowardly traps! There is no honour in such acts. I will not stand for this indignity!’

‘Savra’s right,’ Jhess said. The rogue coughed in the thick dust still filling the air. ‘Guild rules.’

Robin hadn’t heard of this before, but he’d not exactly had time to go too deeply into the book of rules and regulations that had come with his joining the White Star Company.

Savra returned to tending the unconscious Drev, allowing Jhess to carry on the argument. Robin sensed Rerebos’s amusement through the empathic link. The little dragon was taking a great deal of pleasure in Khavren’s discomfort. Robin couldn’t blame his familiar at all for that.

The argument carried on, growing louder and louder. Robin racked his brains and his [Bardic Lore] trying to come up with more information, anything that might help Jhess settle the knight down, but he came up empty.

He decided that he should probably read the regulations more carefully when they got back to Noviel.

Wolfram finally moved behind Jhess. The giant crossed his arms and frowned over her shoulder, adding an implacable weight to her argument without saying a single other thing.

In the face of that much united opposition, Khavren finally lowered his volume and grudgingly stopped going on the attack.

Jhess didn’t let him get away with that, however. The rogue kept at him. This was clearly a very important aspect of the rules for some reason.

‘Swear on your honour as a knight that you will take no action to harm the core of the living dungeon we are currently in.’ Jhess paused, clearly debating whether or not she should add any caveats. ‘Swear!’

Clearly the rogue decided Khavren wasn’t to be trusted with exceptions.

‘I hardly think that is necessary,’ the knight protested.

‘Well I think it is,’ Jhess shot back. ‘Savra? Back me up on this.’

‘She is entirely correct, in this.’

No one in the cavern missed the unspoken words that trailed on the end of that sentence. Savra and Jhess did not always see eye-to-eye on things.

The rogue bristled but took the support.

‘Swear, Khavren. Your honour and your party both require it of you right now.’ Jhess’s eyes could have struck sparks, they were so flinty.

The knight protested a bit more, but when Robin added his voice to Jhess and Savra’s, and to Wulfram’s unspoken support, it was clear that the party was a united front against the knight.

‘Very well,’ he snapped at last. ‘I do solemnly swear oath upon mine honour as a knight not to seek the destruction of the core of this living dungeon, either through my own actions or through the actions of outside agents.’

As if that lout could even get near enough to me to threaten damage.

Robin’s ears pricked up at the sound of the dungeon speaking once more. Of course it was still watching them. It was probably trying to find a weakness now that yet another of its traps had failed to do them in. He’d have to keep one ear peeled for any more words from the dungeon, but Robin returned most of his attention to his party.

‘Happy now?’ Khavren was crossing his arms over his chest.

‘Yes,’ Jhess said, all but collapsing as the fight went out of her. Clearly the conflict had been most of what was keeping her going.

None of them were exactly fresh.

‘We need to set up camp,’Robin said. ‘Dre—Dee is out cold and we’re all filthy and exhausted.’ He gestured and began using [Legerdemain] to cleanse Jhess and the air around them of the rock dust. ‘If Jhess can find us a good place, I’ll clean the rest of us up and then take first watch. I don’t need that much sleep.’ He forced a tired smile. ‘Bards are used to working very late into the evening. Or the morning, as the case may be.’

Savra snorted. Jhess smirked. No one objected.

By the time the rogue returned with a good location to set up camp, Robin had cleaned everyone up, helped Savra patch the last of the wounds, and had time to quiz the seeress about the rules he might not have yet gotten around to reading.

The resultant conversation was illuminating, to say the least.

‘What would you do if you were trapped in a cavern, unable to move, and there was a threat you knew was coming and wanted to kill you?’ Savra asked, eyes serious.

‘I’d trap the hell out of the place I lived and then figure out a way to neutralise—oh.’ Robin’s eye widened. A living dungeon wasn’t that different from other living beings, in that respect. But it had a lot more ability to generate dangerous items and command monsters. A lot of monsters. ‘It would mean war.’

‘Yes. Living dungeons represent a wealth of opportunity but also a terrible danger. The Guild prefers to maintain cordial and working relations whenever and wherever possible. Reckless adventurers can easily endanger that relationship and the reputation of the various guild or company they belong to. Trust is not easily mended once broken, particularly between beings so different as dungeons and adventurers. That’s why there are so many rules governing interacting with dungeons. Especially the living ones.’

Before Robin could ask anything further, Jhess led them to their campsite.

It was more a large curve or bulge in the tunnel that made a wide space suitable for setting up camp. It wasn’t terribly defensible, but it had good lines of sight along the passageways and unless a seriously well-coordinated attack came at them, they’d have time and space to retreat if necessary.

Drev had recovered by then, though the mage was still very weak and unable to do much to help set up the camp. He managed a few warding cantrips, but anything more was clearly beyond him. He’d expended too many energies in the fight and in trying to ward off the falling stalactites.

Robin wanted to ask more questions about living dungeons and their run-ins with the various guilds and companies of adventurers, but Khavren’s moodiness made him reluctant. No point in setting the knight off again.

Not when he could needle him indirectly by telling a few harmless tales over dinner. Robin consulted his [Bardic Lore] and found a few yarns that would suit his purpose. He regaled the party with the tale of the Chartreuse Stallions and the Dungeon of Arkiss-Mot, the tragedy of Hanz-Sun and the Abyss of Bhopp, and the most lamentable ballad of Pyrhhica and Thazz-Bane.

All tales that involved a living dungeon and the adventuring parties that crossed them. None involved that shattering of the dungeons’ cores, but each did feature some way in which the party offended the living dungeon and were punished for it by all the other living dungeons they encountered thereafter—to say nothing of the hammer fall that was the guild response.

Khavren was looking decidedly green by the time Robin finished.

The bard hid a smile. Maybe the knight would come to view his oath as something of a good thing, after all that. It would require more self-awareness than the bard suspected Khavren had, but one could always live in hope.

After that, the party divided up the watches and settled in to rest and recover. Robin took first watch with Savra. Each of them withdrew a bit down the tunnel for a better view.

Suited Robin just fine. He needed some privacy for what he was about to do next. It might be foolish, but his discussion with Savra had left him troubled and thoughtful.

They were walking around inside a living being. One that they really shouldn’t be trying to kill, and one whose good will was a lot more valuable to the one who could secure it than even all the treasure the dungeon currently had stashed away.

If one had the appropriate long view on things, and Robin certainly did.

‘Dungeon,’ Robin called out softly in the strange language he had heard the entity speaking in, all shadows and whispers of scraping rock against one another, and fiery purple magic, ‘I think we should talk.’