Noise from the tenants in his shared room woke Jack from a deep sleep. It’s too early, he complained as he wiped his eyes. He’d have preferred a full night’s sleep before such an important day. The elaborate tales his new friends had spun made that impossible. Each tale extended his bedtime until the bartender kicked them out.

Once mostly awake, he pulled his armor from the chest at the foot of his bed and donned it. Lifting his pack, he paused in thought. I’m going to need room for loot, but I can’t leave it here in the chest. The chest was fine for storing his things at night while sleeping, but he wouldn’t trust something as important as his spellbook to something without a lock. I’ll ask the owner, maybe he has a lock I can borrow.

Jack bounded down the stairs. Approaching the innkeeper and inspecting him, he asked, “Excuse me Bertrod, do you happen to have a chest that can lock so I can store my stuff while I’m gone?”

“Follow me,” Bertrod instructed and walked to the book room. “The chest is ten copper a day.”

Jack was surprised the locked chest would be in the kitchen. A cook stood over a brick fireplace, frying eggs on an iron pan. This place is disgusting, he thought, observing old grease on the walls. Although, do they even have to worry about disease?

Against the back wall stood four chests with heavy locks. Bertrod opened the nearest chest with a key from his purse. “You’ll pay me when you collect your things. If you don’t have the money, your things become mine.”

Jack saw no issue with using his goods as collateral. He stashed everything he didn’t think would be necessary within the chest. I don’t need my book or my sleeping roll. Won’t need the tinder box or rope either. When Jack had emptied his pack, he paused.

Should I leave ALL my money here too? He still had the 12 gold coins he had looted from the orc chieftain as well as 11 silver. After weighing his purse in his hands he decided to store just his gold coins. I might as well lighten my load. Motioning to the innkeeper he was done, the chest was locked and Jack purchased fried eggs.

Breakfast plate in hand, Jack searched the room and found his new friends already eating. He was met with warm greetings when he sat his plate down at their table.

“Good morning Jack! Did ya get any sleep?” asked Gurt.

“Not as much as I’d like.” Jack yawned.

“Well, once battle starts you’ll be plenty awake. Ain’t that a fact!” Bron said.

“Aye!” added Arela with a grin.

After a hurried breakfast, they left for the dungeon nestled inside the inner keep. According to Bron, this ensured the castilian could tax and control everyone who entered.

Faster than Jack could believe, they arrived at the registration chamber. A short line snaked from the wooden desk while clumps of delvers leaned against stone walls, waiting to fill out their roster. No waiting for a group for me, Jack smugly thought, satisfied with his good fortune.

While waiting in line, Jack observed the other groups. They’re all pretty young. Most of those clustered seemed younger than him. I guess after a few years, if you haven’t found a dedicated group, you quit.

“Next,” barked an officious voice and Jack stepped forward. Wow, the line moves fast. After handing over 5 silvers, the clerk recorded his name and level. “Next,” he repeated and Jack joined his group through the door.

Worked stone turned into solid rock and ended in a swirling portal. Wow, this looks like Stargate! The portal resembled a vertical whirlpool of water, filling a large cave opening.

“It’s a sight to behold ain’t it?” said Bron, clapping Jack on the back.

“It sure is,” Jack agreed.

“Jack, grab a hand or we’ll end up in different dungeons.”

“Wait, I thought there was only one dungeon in Stonehold.” Jack added, confused.

“Greenhorns always ask the same thing,” Bron muttered as he swept his hand through his short brown hair. “The dungeon is a magical place. Thousands of groups go through this portal every day, but none of them ever meet. Every group enters an identical dungeon filled with the same vile creatures.” He leaned forward as if to frighten Jack. “Before you ask, no I don’t know how it works, it just does. Now, let’s get going before the group behind us gets angry.”

Gurt clasped Jack's hand and pulled him toward the portal. Before stepping through, Bron confirmed, ”All holding hands?” After ensuring all were linked, he added, “Don’t forget, two minutes after we enter, that patrol comes by the entrance.” He then stepped through, pulling the rest with him.

Jack held his breath. When his arm entered the portal a coldness seeped into him. He closed his eyes and continued forward. This is so weird. Abruptly, the viscous cold ended, replaced with cool humid air.

They stood in a large stone cave lit with torch filled sconces. A narrow curved passage was the room’s only exit about thirty feet ahead.

Bron swung around to face Jack, his face cold. Huh? Jack backed up, afraid.

Suddenly Jack was unable to breathe. His hand clasped his dripping neck as he sank to his knees. Jack gasped for air, but his lungs were filling with blood. He slit my throat! Why?! He fell forward to the floor, unable to stay upright. His vision darkened. I’m gonna die!

Jack felt hands lift his arms, removing his rings. Two sharp yanks pulled his ears.

Alera complained, “He only had five silver and the pack’s empty.”

“It doesn’t matter, this jewelry’s worth at least 50 gold,” Bron responded. “Let’s go, I don’t feel like fighting the patrol.”

“Should we finish him off?” asked Gurt.

“Don’t bother, he’s as good as dead. He’s bleeding out and the goblins are coming. I want him to be the only thing they find.” ordered Bron.

While they were talking, Jack checked his status. I only have 15 health left, what do I do? he panicked. Wait! Magic, I have magic! Jack grasped onto that thread of hope and concentrated, clearing the fog from his mind.

Jack focused on healing his neck. His health went up by 5 and then dropped by 2. Fifty seconds later he cast Heal again, raising his health and restoring his breathing. I’m barely keeping ahead of the bleeding, he thought. He heard footsteps coming closer.

Shit! The patrol. What do I do? Jack tried to think of a plan, but playing dead was the only thing that came to mind. It’s not like I can move anyways.

The group of three goblins turned the corner. Jack froze, and held his breath. Don’t see me, don’t see me, he chanted while waiting for Heal’s cooldown to expire.

Eyes closed, he heard the goblins march closer. Suddenly, the footfalls stopped. I’m so dead. He strained his ears for any sound. What are they doing?

The goblins turned and walked away. As the patrol’s footsteps faded away, he risked a peak and inspected them. Three goblins warriors, all level seven. When the warriors turned the corner, Jack gasped for a pain filled breath. How did they not see me?

During the next hour, Jack’s existence fell into a pattern. He healed every 50 seconds and played dead every 15 minutes. Each time they passed, Jack’s tension lowered. He began naming them in his head to pass the time. Fatso, Ugly, and Stinky turned and left again.

Once he had recovered enough to move, he decided to stay put. The portal’s right behind me, I can always scramble through.

His Heal spell had gained another level. Being able to heal 7 health for 36 mana dramatically sped his recovery.

Once more the patrol passed. Ok, the patrol left. Fifteen minutes, go. He sat up slowly and inventoried his possessions. They took everything but my armor and pack, he whined.

How could I be so stupid? The innkeeper even warned me. The group had obviously done this before. They would bring a new delver to the dungeon alone, someone who no one would miss. After they killed him and took his possessions, they would tell the clerk he died fighting goblins. They would then head to the bar and wait for the next poor sap willing to take the bait.

I was too trusting. After meeting Islar and Hem, he had let down his guard. Never again, he promised. I can’t trust anyone in this world.

His self loathing turned to anger. I’ll make them pay for this, he swore. They’ll never hurt anyone again.

Jack visualized stabbing Bron over and over. Shaking his head of these brutal thoughts, he ordered his mind. First, I need a weapon. Let’s see what I can get here in the dungeon. Jack crept away from the portal room to scout. Carefully he peeked around the corner of the narrow passage. The next room held a lone goblin clothed in rags, a short rusty axe at its waist. Jack inspected the goblin.

A goblin scout

Level 5

Health 50/50

It’s just level five, I can take it with magic, Jack reasoned as he walked into the room.

Before it could react, Jack cast Paralyze. He rushed forward and stole the axe from its belt, arming himself. With a single swing, he buried the axe deep into the goblin’s neck. Jack released the spell, the goblin fell to the ground one hand fumbling for its neck.

Jack shuddered at the familiar sight, and quickly put it out of its misery. He bent to loot the corpse. Two silver and four copper. If the dungeon is filled with goblins like this, no wonder there are so many delvers.

Suddenly remembering the patrol, he panicked. How long has it been. Staring at the corpse he thought, Crap, I didn’t think this through. He picked up the body and dragged it to the wall in an attempt to conceal it. That won’t work! What now? Should I make a stand here?

Jack checked his mana. Two more minutes until I’m full. I only used thirty-five mana to cast Paralyze level two. After some quick math he concluded, I have six full seconds of paralyzation to work with. The spellbook also mentioned the higher the spell, the more targets I can paralyze at once.

Should I risk it though? Jack had to know what he could do in a fight. Glancing back to the safety of the exit portal behind him, he decided. Screw it, YOLO. Although I've lived twice, he chuckled under his breath.

He brazenly stood his ground until the patrol entered his room. This time, instead of passing his motionless body, the warriors immediately reacted. They charged at him, rusty swords held high.

Jack cast Paralyze on the group. Fatso and Ugly froze stiff and fell forward to the floor, sliding. Stinky was unphased. I guess it only works on two of them at this level, he thought nervously and released his spell. Four seconds of Paralyze left.

Jack raised the axe and braced himself. When Stinky was 10 feet away, Jack cast Paralyze again. This time Stinky also fell and slid to Jack’s feet. Jack chopped down into its neck and felt a crunch as the rusty axe tore through its backbone. One down.

From the corner of his eye, Jack saw the other two warriors scrambling to their feet. Releasing his spell from Stinky, he yanked out his axe and counted down. Three seconds left.

They raised their swords and wordlessly charged again. Are these things stupid?

Jack paralyzed Fatso and immediately released his spell as the goblin hit the floor sliding. Two seconds left.

As Ugly closed, he cast Paralyze again. It too fell face first into the stone floor and slid to Jack’s feet.

Jack quickly ended its life and released the spell. One second left.

This is just too easy, he mused as Fatso rushed toward him. At 10 feet, he cast paralyze on the final goblin.

The goblin warrior continued its charge. Shit! The spell didn’t work! He’d trusted his magic too much. Fatso swung its sword down as Jack dodged to the side. “AAHHHH!” he screamed as fire burned down his bare left arm.

Awkwardly, Jack returned a blow to its side. The goblin screeched as his axe left a shallow furrow.

Fatso whipped its sword sideways, impacting Jack’s leather jerkin. Ignoring the bruising pain, he grabbed his axe with two hands and chopped down onto the short goblin’s head.

*Thunk* the axe handle vibrated off bone as Fatso sunk to its knees. It dropped its sword, raising its hands to its head screaming. Withdrawing his axe, he hacked at its stomach. Blood poured from the wound as the goblin warrior fell lifeless to the ground.

Breathing deeply and clasping his bleeding arm, Jack checked his status.

Name: Jack Herring

Race: Human

Level: 14

Experience: 497,840/819,200

Health: 78/100

Mana: 16/210

Strength: 8

Agility: 12(-1)

Vitality: 10

Intelligence: 21

Skills:

Inspect level 1

Haggle level 2

Fire Starting level 1

Butchering level 2

Cooking level 1

Woodworking level 1

Spears level 3

Axes level 2

Spells:

Paralyze level 2

Heal level 4

Boons:

Polyglot

Contestant

He had lost 22 of his 100 health, and had only 16 mana left. Why did I run out of mana? After rechecking his math, the numbers didn’t add up. I must’ve kept one of the goblins paralyzed too long and it used another 35 mana.

Shaking his head, Jack looted 11 silver from the three goblins. He compared their rusty swords to his rusty axe, My axe does more damage and I’m already level two with it. Deciding to keep using the axe, he gathered their swords into his pack.

Jack was starting to enjoy his axe. The spear was a defensive weapon as it allowed him to keep the enemy at a distance. His magic changed that equation however. Freezing his enemy made it defenseless and unable to attack. He needed a weapon that could take full advantage of that.

Maybe I should use both an axe and spear, he mused. He could use the axe for finishing off his helpless enemies, and the spear for when he ran out of mana. Wait, why can’t I do both at the same time? I can buy a polearm. A polearm combined a spear and an axe.

I’ll need more strength to handle the weight of an axe head at the end of the spear, he thought. But that won’t be a problem when I get my jewelry back.

After he was full of health and mana, Jack skulked toward the next room.

Five goblin warriors stood stiff, staring off into the distance. I don’t think these are real people. Everything about these goblins had been unnatural and illogical. They seemed to have more in common with coded monsters in a video game than they did with a real person.

Why would a group of warriors just sit there not moving, they aren’t even guarding anything. If the goblins were part of a real society, Jack would expect to see them going about every day activities like the orcs had. He had seen no cooking, crafting, or even any young. Matter of fact, if I was in a video game, I would say this is pretty immersion breaking. The unnatural lack of community and purpose of the goblins screamed fake.

Did the dungeon create these creatures? How powerful is the dungeon, and who controls it? Jack shook his head and backed away. He didn’t want to risk alerting the creatures to his presence. I guess I’m done here.

He retraced his steps and approached the swirling portal. Here goes nothing, he thought as he stepped through.

Jack was spit out of the dungeon in the room he had entered. Leaning against the far wall were two delvers waiting on the rest of their group to finish registration before entering. Seeing them reminded Jack of his group’s treachery. I bet they’re back at Delver’s Inn, celebrating my death.

A haze of anger consumed him as he imagined their cheer. In his mind, he saw Bron and the others laughing at his gullibility. I’ll make them pay.

Jack opened the door to Delver’s Inn, so lost in thought that he couldn’t remember how he had arrived. Scanning the room, he spotted his attackers around a table, leaning forward and conversing in low voices.

He strode forward to confront them.

“I want my stuff back!” he shouted, silencing the pub. Eyes all around turned to watch the spectacle unfold. Alera and Gurt froze, eyes wide in disbelief. Even Jefren seemed shocked, broken from his reserve.

Bron paused only for a second before exulting, “Praise the gods! It's a miracle, you survived! We tried to save you, there were just too many.”

“YOU tried to kill me and stole from me!” his voice was full of righteous indignation.

“What did the goblins do to you? Did you take a blow to the head? We tried to save you.” Bron professed.

“You won’t get away with it you murderer!” Jack screamed.

Bron’s contenance shifted. His voice growled out, “How dare you call me a liar. Take back your slander.”

“Never!” Jack shouted, “You’re a murderer!”

“I claim insult on my honor!” Bron screamed back at him. “I challenge you to a duel!”

Jack was about to respond when he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. “Let it go son. Take it as a lesson learned and leave with your life.” said Bertrod, warning him yet again.

Anger overrode his sense. Jack turned to Bron and said, “I accept.”