Bazel's bare feet slapped the stone floor as he ran, his breaths came ragged and quick. He dared not look behind him in fear that he would see the monster right on his heels.

It's just a rat, right!?

Bazel never feared rats, not like some people did. They were a nuisance back in the capital city, but they were easily dealt with. A swift kick to a larger rat would send it scurrying away, the flames of a torch could keep hundreds of them at bay.

Bazel thought back and remembered the sound of the small rodents' feet as they patted around in the dark, it was a sound impossible to forget. The sound behind him was similar, only magnified by a great degree.

Up ahead, Bazel saw a small hole in the wall of the cave he ran through. It appeared just big enough for him to fit into, meaning the rat wouldn't be able to get in.

Bazel ran for the hole and dove in head first.

Rock and debris scraped Bazel's hands and knees as he jumped into the hole, making his skin burn with pain. In the low light, he couldn't see his wounds, but he knew he was bleeding profusely. He hoped he could stave off infection until he was able to complete the job.

The hole wasn't very deep, maybe a dozen feet at most. Bazel scrambled back until he couldn't go any further. Just then, the rat appeared at the entrance and stuck its large head into the hole, yellowed teeth snapping at the human.

The rat's head was as big as Bazel's whole body. He didn't think it would be able to fit inside the hole, but it just barely did. Luckily, the rest of the rat's body couldn't fit.

The rat struggled to get at its prey, spittle flying from its mouth as it chomped and screeched in Bazel's direction. The smell of its fetid breath made him want to vomit. The yellow eyes of the creature stayed wide open and glared at Bazel with hunger.

Bazel made himself as small as possible and pressed himself against the rock. He summoned his interface, a flat black tablet that hovered in the air before him and he quickly looked over it.

Swindler, Level 1

Rank E

Health: 12/60

Aether: 130/160

Credits: 200

Stats:

Strength - 5

Stamina - 7

Agility - 7

Sense - 15

Intelligence - 18

Spirit - 17

Skills:

[Drain Strength] - Take your opponent's strength for yourself. 25 Aether

[Entangle] - Slow your opponent's movement for a time. 15 Aether

[Mesmerize] - Put your opponent in a hypnotic stupor. 15 Aether >

Bazel's health was getting perilously low. He'd already attempted to escape the giant rat using a combination of [Entangle] and [Mezmerize], but neither of them had any effect.

Why won't they work!?

Bazel thought for sure he would be able to just run away from the monster. But not only did the skills fail to do anything, they seemed to enrage the large rodent even more. After his attempt, it immediately attacked him and clawed his arms. Now the magic that was supposed to empower Bazel was useless against this threat.

How did I get myself into this!?

The dungeon existed as a living nightmare. Had Bazel known what terrors resided inside, he never would have agreed to walk in. But he was tricked, the old mage swayed him with honeyed words and food. Bazel fell for it.

He thought back to the events that happened the day before.

Bazel was in the capital city of the Canneldorth kingdom – a bustling castle town full of people from all walks of life. Food sellers hocked their products from stalls set up on the side of the cobble streets. Blacksmiths hammered away at pieces of heated metal making a symphony of clangs. The town criers shouted about the king's new decrees in the plaza.

On the side of a smaller street, a beggar squatted wearing only a loincloth. His long, stringy black hair fell over his shoulders and his face. His long, pointed nose looked like it belonged on a bird's face, and his intense hazel eyes only barely drew attention away from the prominent protrusion between them.

The beggar's emaciated body was on full display. Thin arms and legs that looked like they could break in a strong breeze extended from a skinny torso. The gaunt face of the man focused on the feet of the people walking by.

It must be nice to have shoes.

Bazel didn't have many ambitions in life, most beggars didn't. On most days, he would be happy to get some scraps of food and find a warm pile of hay to sleep in. But Bazel had a dream nonetheless – a dream that one day he could have a pair of shoes.

His own feet were colored black from all the filth and grime on them. The calluses on his soles only marginally protected them from sharp rocks and the occasional tack left on the ground by a passing horse. His long, cracked toenails appeared yellow in color.

Bazel looked at the feet of the passing crowds, all clad in shoes and boots of every type. He wished he could have those. He imagined the places he could go if he had shoes, the possibilities seemed endless. People with shoes traveled far and wide. They went on journeys and adventures to places Bazel would never see.

Who am I kidding? Bazel sighed, if I had shoes, I'd probably just use them to step on others.

That was what people with shoes did, they trampled on others beneath them. Bazel knew this well since he was the lowest of humanity – a beggar and an outcast. It was only right for the people of the kingdom to trample upon him and his dreams.

As he thought about his place in the world, three very interesting pairs of feet walked up and stopped before him.

In the center, a pair of soft leather boots stuck out from underneath a blue robe. To either side of them, metal greaves covered the boots of two people wearing armor.

"On your feet, beggar!" A rough voice said from above.

Bazel stood up, but kept his gaze locked on their feet. He didn't dare look into the faces of his betters and provoke their wrath.

"Be nice, Gorlen!" A soft, older voice said, "You're not in any trouble, son. In fact, we've come to ask you a favor."

Nobody ever asked Bazel for anything. He was a beggar, so he was the one who asked for things. It was the duty of regular people to ignore him and pretend he didn't exist. Sometimes, they would "accidentally" drop a piece of moldy bread on the ground near him, but they never acknowledged him. And they certainly never asked anything of him.

Bazel cautiously looked up and saw the faces of the three men before him. The one in the middle was an older man with a white beard. The men on either side of him looked like royal guards in their shiny steel armor. The helmets they wore covered most of their faces, but he could still see their disapproving frowns.

"What's your name, son?" The old man asked.

"B-Bazel, sir." Bazel answered, "Bazel the Beggar."

"Very well Bazel," the old man bowed his head, "My name is Hargal, and I would like to extend an opportunity to you."

"An opportunity?"

"Yes," Hargal smiled, "there is a place not far from the city full of mystery and power. We want you to go there and seek out the riches inside."

"Riches?"

"Indeed. It is said that the greatest desires of men can be satisfied within, who knows what you can find there."

"Greatest desires?" Bazel thought for a moment, "you mean like, food?"

Hargal chuckled, "I'm sure you can find things much better than food inside!"

What could be greater than food? Bazel wondered, then went wide-eyed at the realization. He looked at Hargal and smiled.

"Shoes! Can I find shoes there?"

Hargal laughed while holding a hand over his stomach, "Ooh! I like you, Bazel! You'll be a good candidate for the next expedition!"

Hargal led Bazel to a large building near the walls of the city, a dormitory of sorts. Inside, it seemed as if they'd gathered every beggar in the city. Dozens of cots were laid out in rows and other beggars and outcasts lounged on them.

"Stay here for now, Bazel." Hargal instructed him, "find an unclaimed cot and wait for further instructions.

Bazel did so. He found a cot near the far end of the room and sat down. They even left a blanket for him!

"Hey, new guy!" Another beggar walked up and stood next to Bazel's cot.

"Um, hello." Bazel said.

"Did you get any food yet?" He gestured towards a table set up one one side of the room, "they told us we could have as much bread and meat as we wanted!"

"Really?"

"Go see for yourself!"

Bazel walked over to the table, a man in a vest and baggy pants stood behind it. On the table were baskets with pieces of flatbread in them and plates with kabobs laid out. Bazel drooled over the offerings on display.

"Take whatever you want," the man behind the table said, "You'll need your strength for the dungeon."

"The dungeon?" Bazel asked.

"That's what they call it." He said, "A tower taller and wider than a mountain! It appeared in the plains a few weeks ago, and the king has been sending people into it ever since."

"This is the first I've heard of it," Bazel pointed at the door, "Hargal only said it was a place with riches inside."

"Well, that's the theory." The man reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a piece of folded parchment, "others have been close to the dungeon and made drawings of it."

Bazel took the piece of parchment and opened it up. The drawing showed a large tower that looked like it spiraled up to the clouds. Notes were written next to the drawing, detailing its dimensions and composition.

Bazel read from it, "The dungeon is approximately eighteen-thousand feet in diameter at the base and rises to an estimated thirty-thousand feet…"

"You can read?" The man asked.

"My parents taught me writing and arithmetic when I was a child." Bazel held up the parchment and frowned, "This can't be right. Who could build such a thing?"

The man took the parchment back and folded it up, "Only the gods could do such a thing. That's why people believe it holds great treasures."

"That would make sense," Bazel picked up a kabob and pulled some of the meat off the stick, putting it in his mouth, "Anything that the gods built must be full of riches."

"Aye," the man nodded, "Although, I feel it's only fair to warn you, nobody who's entered the dungeon has come out again."

"It is quite large," Bazel pointed at the parchment the man was still holding, "If it's eighteen-thousand feet wide at the base, that's over a league. Each level looks progressively smaller, but they are still incredibly large."

"Ha!" The man smiled, "You really do know your arithmetic!"

Just from looking at the drawing, Bazel was able to come up with some rough estimates of his own. If the proportions were correct, then it appeared that the tower was comprised of over a hundred levels, and each one was a couple hundred feet tall. If the diameter of each level shrunk by even a hundred feet, then the top level would still be over five thousand feet wide.

The man said that the tower had only been there for a few weeks. It was entirely possible that people who'd entered it were lost. If such a large structure had a maze-like interior, it would be easy to get lost for weeks.

"You said that other people already went inside?" Bazel asked.

"Aye," the man nodded, "as soon as it appeared, the king sent a contingent of knights inside. After they failed to come out within a week, he sent in some mercenaries. It's been a week since then, and now he's resorting to sending beggars."

"Because we're expendable." Bazel said.

"Aye," the man smiled sheepishly, "sorry."

"I know what I am," Bazel waved off the man's concern, "I expected as much. I thought it was strange that Hargal would offer me a chance to get riches without any strings attached."

"It's not too late to turn back, you know." The man said.

"I know." Bazel picked up another kabob and took a bite, he smiled at the man and held up the food, "but I'm already getting so much in return!"

"Well, if it's true what they say, you may get more than just some food inside the dungeon." The man chuckled, "You may find real treasure!"

Bazel smiled as he thought about what treasure might be hidden inside a tower built by the gods.

I bet they have the best shoes!

●●●

Hargal, the court mage, walked into the small audience chamber and went down on one knee with his head bowed.

"Do you have a report for me?" The king asked.

"Indeed, your majesty." Hargal lifted his head and continued, "I gathered up every beggar I could find and put them all in a dormitory owned by the Jarden Merchant Company. The company is assembling a wagon train to transport them to the dungeon first thing in the morning."

"Very good." The old king nodded, "Was it difficult to convince them?"

"Not at all, your majesty. Most of them were willing to go along with it for not much more than the promise of food."

"Excellent!"

The king was quite proud of himself for taking a bad situation and turning it to his advantage. After losing an entire squad of knights and a band of mercenaries to the dungeon, he became depressed.

Then he thought about sending all the undesirables of his city into the dungeon.

It was the perfect plan! If they died in that place or were never heard from again, it could only benefit his kingdom. If any of the beggars actually managed to return with any information or treasure, he could reward them accordingly, but he didn't think that would happen.

"If this works out, we should send all our prisoners there as well!" The king proclaimed.

"Wonderful idea, your majesty!" Hargal stood and bowed, "I'll make the arrangements."