Chapter 4, Waystones and flora

Following Julie's command and Howard's lead we step into formation and continue the last revolution before the stairwell unravels and leads us in a straight path towards the next floor's entrance. I study the entrance as I walk through it and my eyes dart across the slightly shimmering archaic symbols carved in the white, metal frame without gaining any understanding of their purpose.

Stepping through onto the second floor we’re all greeted by a massive chamber in the shape of a downwards pointed octagonal pyramid with its point blocked from view by a hanging platform. The walls and slanting floor are made of that same sleek black stone the stairwell had tapered into while the ceiling is marble white.

I take an appreciative breath of the fresh and slightly damp air which contrasts to the stale and dry air of the stairwell. Straight across from us at the other end and at our current elevation is another white metal door frame with archaic symbols. I guess this takes us onward, or downward, if this is all there is to the second floor. That seems like a strange floor arrangement to me but I’m no expert.

Two of the pyramid’s sides are a continuation on the white marble stairs, now made in the same white metallic alloy as the entrance behind and infront of us, leading down towards the center platform and then up towards the entrance ahead. The other six sides of the octagonal pyramid have a meter wide groove where water must have poured down when the dungeon was active.

Now each groove only sports a trickle of water making its way downwards through the white moss obstructing its path. The moss gives off a soft white glow while casting even softer shadows across the chamber.

The grooves and glowing moss make their way down towards the pyramid's tip. I can see the glowing foliage making itself down underneath the white metallic, several dozen meter wide platform, which anchors itself a few meters above the spot where the pyramid’s tip ought to be.

I have the urge to explore the foliage down below for anything interesting that might have been dropped from the platform and forgotten but before I step any further into the chamber, my eyes like the rest of my group’s move towards the architectural centerpiece.

In the middle of the hanging platform stands a rectangular monolith with a height and width of 3 by 1.5 meters respectively. The monolith's surface is made of a both reflective and slightly see-through gray material that swirls like thick, solidified smoke trapped in an invisible barrier. Around the top and bottom of the monolith archaic symbols flicker in and out of view in rapid uneven bursts of dim, almost invisible azure light.

Behind the monolith there is a disorganized pile of rectangular white metal blocks in different sizes and dimensions, having seemingly been dropped there without rhyme or reason. The mound of mystery alloy is large enough that the monolith wouldn’t block it out of view even if I stood half a meter in front of it. Since I can’t figure out what I’m seeing I tilt my head in a quizzical manner, looking at Barhald who is staring wide eyed at the monolith like the rest of my party.

“Praise the earth and worship the forge, is that what I think it is? It can’t be right? I’ve heard of them but never seen them myself.”

“A waystone.”

Jake confirms.

“No fucking way, a real waystone monolith! This is unbelievable.”

Ormar shouts in wide eyed amazement. Honestly he’s got no chill and is always too loud.

“Yeah there’s no doubt about it. I saw one on my exam expedition with the Healers Light Collage in the Nogmrithek Dungeon. Though I remember the modular floor guide being much smaller compared to what that mound must have been when it was in an active configuration.”

Julie sounds really smug but fails to conceal her own tone of wonder. Barhald lets out a belly laugh of pure joy while Howard slaps him on the back, a wide grin on his own face. Jake only casts a curious glance around the chamber and Mister Mason looks stupefied, his hat askew as if physically impacted by the sight.

“Um, I’m sorry but what is the deal with all of you? I mean it’s pretty and all but what’s a waystone and why is Julie calling a mound of blocks a floor guide?

They all slowly turn towards me with faces showing looks of incredulity. I fidget slightly under the combined attention while avoiding their eyes.

“What?”

Julie’s face rearranges itself into the look of a cat who just got the cream.

“Oh you don’t know, Zelaria? I should’ve expected as much. It wouldn’t have been surprising if you’d never seen it yourself because I’m probably the only one in the party who’s actually been in a dungeon categorized as ancient before this. But to have never even heard of-”

“Do you think then that this dungeon reached ancient classification long before it broke down all those centuries ago?”

Barhald interjects with his own question before Julie's tirade of thinly veiled disdain can pick up speed. I shoot him a thankful look before returning my attention to a stymied Julie.

“Well of course it did! Can’t you see the absolutely massive quantity of modules for the floor guide laying behind and even pushing up against the waystones back? The Nogmrithek Dungeon’s modular floor guide I saw covered the information pertaining to 60 floors and it wasn’t even half the size of what I expect this guide to be when activated.”

An echoing silence is the only answer to her revelation. I may not have all the dungeon lore every seasoned adventurer seems to take for granted but I think I understand the conclusion everyone is coming to and why it is so shocking.

If this dungeon needed this many modules for its modular floor guide, as Julie calls it, then it stands to reason that the size of this dungeon is much greater than the most famous ancient class dungeon in the Riverflow kingdom. I look down at my feet and try to guess how many floors are between me and the last chamber of the dungeon.

It has to be more than 60 floors but how many are there? 80? 100? 110? If I want to conquer this dungeon how long will it take? I can’t even begin to calculate the sheer scale of this place as I know that each dungeon floor is supposed to increase in both size and difficulty.

Ormar lets out a long whistle of appreciation while the rest of us are still processing.

“And what about waystones?”

“Waystones are something dungeons start manifesting when reaching a size of 50 floors and we classify all dungeons of that size and upwards as ancient. A waystone monolith both functions as a spatial anchor and an immensely complex magical framework for navigating and selecting floors you wish to travel to.”

“Can we travel all the way to the last floors and skip the rest of the dungeon to search for better loot?”

They all let out an amused chuckle at my question with Julie's laugh sounding a lot more judgmental than the others. Barhald picks up with the explanation from Julie before I can get too annoyed at her.

“A waystone monolith only lets you travel to a floor you have already conquered. It scans your soul for the key before you can use it.”

“It scans my soul?! Key? What key?”

Another chuckle.

“When an adventurer or party defeats the floor guardian protecting the entrance to the next floor the dungeon automatically imprints a magical key signature on their soul. The keys are then used by the waystone monoliths to allow passage to floors which you have been deemed worthy of accessing without repeating previous trials.”

“But my soul, how can it do that to my soul? Isn’t that dangerous?”

I’m getting a little freaked out at the idea of a massively powerful construct fiddling with my soul and possibly altering who I am in the process. I’m no expert at soul theory but I know that the soul is the base of which everything a person is and might become is built.

The status sheet is a good example as it is a literal window to one's soul. A very heavily filtered window only showing the bare basics of who and what that person is, but still a window. The thought that someone or something else without access to my status can still make such changes without outright killing me is terrifying.

“I can clearly see the rabbithole your thoughts are taking you down into.”

I blink and look back at Barhald who my eyes had drifted off of. He gives me a sympathetic smile before continuing.

“Believe me lassie, you aren’t the first to have thoughts such as these. Just forget about it and don’t scramble your little head by overthinking things. It’s been this way for as long as anyone can remember and no one has been able to prove that there is any danger from having a dungeon place its keys.”

Now mollified I nod my thanks to them and we start heading down the white metal stairs. I am curious as to what sort of plant can grow on seemingly nothing but water and make my way towards the nearest clump of glowing white moss. Identifying it isn’t much help.

[Luminescent Cave Moss]

I’m slightly disappointed but I perk up when I see another type of foliage sticking out underneath the staircase. Slithering its way along the white metal out of sight from above it hadn’t been visible from my previous vantagepoint. Kneeling down at the edge of the staircase and lowering myself as far as I’m able before falling off I scope out my next curiosity.

It’s some sort of pale green and slightly glowing ivy with pink, almost white, leaves and thorns. It has made its way up through the floor somewhere underneath the staircase. I silently wish for it to be something interesting and make another valiant attempt with [Identify].

[Luminescent Blood Ivy Strangler - Level ?]

I’m about to cheer out loud for finding something interesting when an ivy vine grabs straight for my neck, pulling me down from the stairs onto the moss covered floor while simultaneously strangling me.

Landing on my back with a hard thud I stare up at the stairs edge 2 meters above me where my party members are making their way back from further ahead while hacking, slashing and burning the vines that have started attacking them as well.

Damn, Ormar’s really good with those manifested firewhips of his.

My attention returns to my own predicament with another squeeze of the vine and I watch in slightly rising fear and exhilaration as a few more ivy vines snake their way towards me. Sharpening my focus I make a grab for my handy hunting knife on my waist with my right hand, pulling it free from its sheath and making a slash at the vine strangling me in a single fluid motion.

I roll out of the way of my new foes just in time, gasping for breath and uncoiling the limp vine from my neck. I can feel fresh blood trickling down where the thorns managed to pierce the flesh but it didn’t manage to take more than 15 HP before I cut it off. The cut ivy vine is writhing in silent agony while pulling itself back down under the staircase.

My next foe strikes at my left leg with deceptive quickness. Managing to get a firm grip on my calf before it starts pulling on it. I think it is trying to unbalance me. I duck down to quickly cut it off but before I see it moving my next foe is already at my neck once more.

The fucker used a timed attack. A plant with tactical thinking? Fascinating.

Quickly cutting my leg free with a swift slash and moving to do the same with my new noose I am once again outplayed.

OUTPLAYED BY A FUCKING PLANT?

I internally scream as I try to wrestle back control of my right arm covered in a fourth vine, making the knife it’s holding onto both useless and unable to be dropped.

I see a fifth vine making its merry way towards me in the corner of my vision at the same time as I start seeing stars from the lack of oxygen. I’ve now lost another 33 HP which drops me dangerously close to only having half left. I decide to ignore my right arm in favor of getting out of the stranglehold, using my last remaining oxygen saturated brain cells to execute a desperate maneuver.

THIS! FUCKING! HURTS!

Tears stream down my face as I hold the vine around my neck in a vice-like grip using my left hand as thorns pierce my palm and draw yet more blood. I use my teeth as an improvised gardening implement, biting and tearing at the vine in a single spot as thorns go through my tongue, gums and cheeks. Each bite is accompanied by a pain induced and oxygen deprived delirious internal tirade.

STUPID! PLANT! WHY! CANT! YOU! JUST! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! FUCK! DIEEE!

Finishing biting through the vine I’m holding I stare at my right arm in shock. The vine which had its thorns in it thrashes limply on the ground next to the other one, the one which must have been around my neck. I had bitten through both? Did I really go straight for the next one in my chomping frenzy without even noticing?

Reality makes its comeback as the fifth and final vine grabs me around my armored waist, squeezing hard but not managing much more through the thick leather except to make my breath even shallower. I clumsily drag my knife across the vine making shallow cuts, taking 3 solid concentrated slashes to cut it off. I don’t care though.

Light headed and unsteady on my feet I sit down right where I am, not bothering to even glance at the thrashing vines or check if more are making their way towards me. I’m just so fucking done with this plant and with less than a fourth of my HP remaining I set to untangling the still clinging foliage around my neck, arm, midriff and leg.

I can’t even be bothered to acknowledge the kill notification when it arrives, just continuing to peacefully pluck thorns out of my left palm and splattering more blood on the previously white moss.

Next I apply a blood clotting salve to my neck. The short procedure of getting the thorns out of my skin has already left me bleeding away 8 more of my few remaining HP. Satisfied when the bleeding debuff disappears from my status I put the salve back in my storage ring before I set to picking thorns out of my gums.

This is how the party finds me sitting in a ring made from cut strangle vines and blood spatters. A green red smear of salve and blood across every surface of exposed skin, my right hand nearly all the way into my wide open mouth, plucking thorns from the roof as if I was plucking flowers in a field. My eyes vacant, staring straight ahead while gurgling an improvised song about my newly discovered hatred of plant monsters.

“Pfft, Hah, HAHAHA what the fuck is wrong with Zelaria?!”

“Did anyone see the fight? It looks like it must’ve been interesting. There’s blood everywhere. Look! Even some all the way back there.”

“Julie, Ormar, please focus. Can’t you see her HP in the party link? It’s practically empty.”

“Alright, alright Barhald. I’ll get right to restoring her, it’s just, Pfft Hahaha-”

Howard puts his giant of a hand on my back in silent support while Julie, still laughing her ass off, tries to restore me back to peak without losing concentration. It’s slow going but after half an hour I’m back to full health and have regaled the others with the fight from my perspective.

“-and then I just sat down and began untying the vines.”

“Daaamn girl! I can’t imagine biting into this thing with my own teeth. Must’ve been quite the desperate move.”

“I agree with Ormar. How did it taste?”

“Like my own blood I guess? Coppery? Hard to tell with a shredded tongue.”

They all wince at that and I smirk with my now healed and scarfree lips. I stand up and stretch my sore muscles before we return to the staircase. Wrestling with a thorny vine monstrosity might not be pleasant work. But it is good exercise.

Ding! Your party has slain [Luminescent Blood Ivy Strangler - Level 19]. Experience withheld until class has been selected.

Ding! [Constitution] has increased from [10] to [11].

Ding! [Vitality] has increased from [9] to [10].