“This truly is a cursed dungeon.” Hal remarked, looking down at the corpse of Markus lying there all alone in a pool of blood, in a dark corridor next to the corpse of a giant spider. Beside him, Áithne was shedding silent tears.

Hal was 18 and had been through hell and back before becoming an adventurer. Half-elf slaves were popular and he'd been in high demand even when he was a young child. Compared to him, 14 year old Áithne was a gentle soul. She wasn't meant to go through such hellish hardships. To have her sullied by this corrupt dungeon, to have her watch as her companions died one by one... it was an unforgivable sin.

“It's all this fucking dungeon's fault.” Lars Drabek remarked, wiping his green daggers on his cloak. “Why the hell can't we leave? How long've been in here? A month?” Lars continued.

“One month and 6 days.” Áithne replied, her voice quiet, subdued. “A D ranked unconquered dungeon so close to a major city. We should've known it was fishy to begin with. We got no one to blame but ourselves.” Áithne continued, her voice was sad and she clenched her fists. Hal went over and put a hand on her shoulder. She shuddered, then threw herself against him and cried quietly into his chest. Gently, he stroked her back as he tried to comfort the girl.

Áithne really was small. Her skin was pale but held a slight blue tint, and her hair was a deep seaweed green color and flowed down her back in waves. She was a Selkie. Very rare, even rarer than a half-elf bastard such as himself. He thought they made a good pair. That they'd become the strongest adventurer's party together.

Halidon Whiterock felt that he had to protect her no matter what. They had to get out of this dungeon alive, and he would do anything to achieve that goal. Even if it took them years to get strong enough to challenge the last few rooms, he would do it. There was food enough down here on the 12th floor, but it spoiled quickly. They had to get stronger, much stronger... and this was no mere D ranked dungeon. It was a corrupt dungeon, and the mobs on the last few floors were way stronger than on the previous floors. It deceived adventurer's into thinking it was a D ranked dungeon, prevented them from escaping and then finally, extinguished them.

“We'll get through this.” Hal said quietly, and Áithne nodded, wiping at her eyes as she pulled back from him.

“We will. Lars will become the greatest rogue, you will become the strongest swordsman, and I will become the most amazing ice witch the world has ever seen. Together, we will destroy this corruption and stop more new adventurers from falling prey to this evil place.” Áithne said.

“To that end, let's go. We've wasted enough time grieving.” Lars said, eyeing the mutilated corpse of their fellow party member, Markus, lying there on the ground. “Counting Markus' supplies, we have enough water to last us a few days. I want to push for the 13th floor. If we don't change our routine, this damn dungeon will get us.” Hal said. The others seemed to agree with him, so they advanced towards the stairs leading down to the 13th floor.

As their vanguard, he led the way, always keeping a hand on his sword, ready to draw it at a moments notice. Áithne walked in the middle, and Lars brought up the rear, ready to meld into the shadows at a moments notice and take a poisoned stab at anyone who tried to sneakily attack them.

He would not let their dreams die in this dungeon. It was time to become stronger. Time to challenge fate and clear this damn dungeon!