Before I could respond, Cyren disappeared into the back office, only to reemerge a few minutes later with a sheaf of papers. He laid the documents on the counter. “This is what five hundred gold buys you on the three dungeons.”

I made no move to pick up the papers. “And the fourth dungeon?”

Cyren laid another parchment atop the others. “This is everything our archives hold on that one.” His eyes glinted. “It’s worth considerably more than five hundred gold. Consider it my gift.”

I bowed gravely and, picking up the papers, laid my hand on the master broker’s keystone to complete the transaction.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “Now, is there anything else I can help you with?”

I rubbed my chin. “Actually, there is.” I was convinced I had rid myself of the mantises—for the time being anyway—but there was no point in taking chances. “Do you know how I can shield my mind while asleep?”

“You don’t know already?” Cyren asked, his bushy brows wagging. “It’s no great secret.” He smiled. “I won’t even bother charging you for the answer.”

I threw him a dry look but said nothing as I waited for his response.

The gnome chuckled. “There are any number of solutions, but the simplest is a mental protection crystal. Most merchants stock them.”

I smacked my head. “I should’ve thought of that.”

Cyren bobbed his head. “What else do you need?”

“Nothing, thank you. You’ve been a big help already.” I turned to go. “Goodbye, Cyren.”

“Goodbye,” he replied, watching me go, then added so softly I nearly didn’t hear him. “And luck upon your house, stranger.”

~~~

Leaving the information broker’s offices, I hurried east towards the Southern Outpost. I needed somewhere to read the documents Cyren had provided, and the tavern was close by.

As I walked, I mused over the gnome’s parting words. Like his previous utterances, they were ambiguous enough to be dismissed as nothing out of the ordinary, but it was not by happenstance that Cyren had used the word, ‘house.’

The gnome was a secret supporter of the ancients and perhaps a potential ally too. How much I could rely on him, though, was yet to be seen.

Before entering the Southern Outpost, I cloaked myself in illusion, and no one spared me a second glance. The tavern was packed, but there were still a few empty tables. Shoving my way through the patrons, I sat down in the room’s darkest corner.

After ordering a drink and waiting for it to arrive, I pulled out the notes Cyren had given me and spread them across the table. The stack of papers consisted of four separate documents, one pertaining to each dungeon.

The first was titled ‘The Guardian Tower,’ and just as Cyren had promised, contained detailed information on its denizens. Picking up the notes, I began to read.

The guardian tower is one of the few dungeons in Nexus open to players unaffiliated with a faction. It consists of five sectors and is filled with denizens between rank fifteen and twenty. But despite being freely accessible, the guardian tower is considered to be one of the hardest dungeons in Nexus. And not for the usual reasons.

For starters, the dungeon’s nether portals are all one-way. Once you enter a sector, the only way out is through. Turning back is NOT an option.

This design choice is made worse by the fact that each sector has only one exit—this being the entrance to the next level. Thus, when players enter the guardian tower, they are committing themselves to completing all five of its levels.

Beware, if you enter the guardian tower, you either finish the dungeon in its entirety—or die trying.

But that is not all. What makes the dungeon immeasurably more difficult is that only six players may be in the dungeon at any one time. This is a far greater restriction than encountered in most other dungeons and raises the stakes significantly.

There is nothing remarkable about the dungeon’s denizens themselves. The guardian tower is inhabited by savants—physically weak magic and mind users—and their horde of minions: monsters and beasts enslaved to do their masters’ bidding. While overcoming the savants and their slaves can be difficult at times, the challenge this presents is nothing unexpected from a tier four dungeon.

The same, unfortunately, cannot be said of the guardian tower’s loot. In another extraordinary deviation from standard dungeon design, the first four sectors contain no loot chests, while the fifth has only the single one. Worse yet, the chest—and coincidentally, the exit portal as well—can only be accessed by using the amulets taken off the sector bosses in the previous four levels.

Beware, if you enter the guardian tower, you will not be able to bypass any of its sector bosses. You must kill them all to receive your ‘reward’ and exit the dungeon.

Note, too, that if you are expecting great loot, you are destined to be disappointed. Players have consistently reported finding little or nothing of value in the dungeon except for the guardian amulet itself. And while the item in question is worth a tidy sum, it does not warrant the extraordinary risks necessary to acquire it.

Understandably, given everything spelled out above, the guardian tower is unpopular, and all players are advised to stay away.

I sat back in my chair, a frown on my face. The dungeon notes were certainly helpful but seemed a tad… light on details.

This is what five hundred gold had bought me? Where was the detailed breakdown of creature numbers, locations, and weaknesses?

I shook my head. It doesn’t matter. This is what you got; work with it. Setting aside my regret at the loss of coin, I considered the information itself.

The guardian tower intrigued me. In particular, the reference to ‘beasts’ attracted my interest, but my overall assessment was that the dungeon was too dangerous to venture within. A dungeon without retreat? No, thank you.

Setting aside the first document, I turned my attention to the next. It was titled, ‘The Minotaur Maze.’

The minotaur maze is a plague quarter dungeon that has been under the control of the Triumvirate knights for centuries. It is a single-level dungeon and, to date, is the single largest dungeon sector ever discovered.

As the name implies, the dungeon is home to minotaurs of all types and levels, ranging from rank five to nineteen. Minotaurs usually favor heavy weaponry and multiple layers of armor. They are social creatures and frequently gather in large groups.

Most are primitive, barbaric, and brutish fighters. Some, though, are cunning, and given the creatures’ love for puzzles, they can make the dungeon… unexpectedly challenging. It is no secret that minotaurs love to build—and break—things. As a result, the dungeon is often changing, with new corridors and junctions appearing with every iteration.

The maze’s ever-shifting layout is a key feature of the dungeon. It contains multiple secret rooms, traps, pitfalls, and hidden loot chests. In fact, the maze is so large, and its frequent changes so extensive that large sections of it are said to lie forgotten and unvisited for decades.

Truly, the maze is a dungeon with no one true path to success.

However, no matter which road one takes, they all eventually lead to the center of the maze and its dungeon boss: the minotaur king.

The minotaur king is a behemoth said to dwarf even the tallest of Nexus’s buildings. He is reputedly so fearsome a foe that even parties of well-prepared and trained knights have a low success rate against him, killing him in only one out of two attempts.

Slaying the king is, of course, not necessary to escape the dungeon, but it is required to obtain the best rewards. In conclusion, it is advised players only enter the maze in large groups and with a hefty surplus of lives.

“Minotaurs,” I muttered when I was done. The thought of facing such creatures was not appealing.

Admittedly the rest of the dungeon was intriguing. Hidden chests, secret rooms, and traps… were all challenges I was uniquely suited to face.

But.

But the minotaurs themselves would be a problem. Not to mention all the trouble I would have to go through in the first place to penetrate the knight’s defense and enter the maze.

And while several smaller treasure chests sounded great in theory, their very number meant their rewards would be diluted. I was not looking for heaps of loot, but one item only—the best of its type that I could find.

I turned to the next parchment. It was titled ‘The Coral Palace.’ Hopefully, it would make for better reading.

The coral palace is a dungeon along the southern rim of the plague quarter and has been under the control of the stygian brotherhood ever since it was first discovered. Given the dungeon’s proximity to the sea, it is perhaps not surprising that its many sectors are populated by denizens of the ocean.

The coral palace is a ten-sector dungeon—one of the deepest of its kind. Levels are highly stratified, with the first level containing foes of rank twelve and the last enemies of rank twenty-one. Exit portals are present in every sector, allowing players to withdraw if necessary.

The dungeon itself consists of a myriad of winding tunnels. They are frequently dark, water-logged, and cramped, making the dungeon unsuitable for claustrophobic players. Many of the palace’s halls and chambers are also either partially or fully submerged in water, this being the preferred habitat of the occupants.

Water-breathing and darkvision spells or enchantments are a must.

The coral palace’s denizens are amongst the most varied of any dungeon and run the gamut of all aquatic life—including the merfolk. Players can expect to face enslaved fighters, sorcerers, witches, and clerics.

Many of the encounters will take place underwater, and despite whatever water breathing apparatuses you may have, the advantage in speed and maneuverability will almost always lie with the dungeon denizens.

The coral place does not restrict the number of players that can enter. However, due to the confined nature of most areas in the dungeon, party numbers will count for little, and you can expect most battles to be resolved by no more than a handful of participants.

In short, the coral palace is a dungeon for players who are most at home in aquatic environments or, conversely, those who wield fire, especially in forms that can resist the dousing touch of water.

I sighed noisily. The coral palace was as problematic as the other two dungeons.

While I was certainly not opposed to fighting in the dark, neither cramped tunnels nor submerged ones sounded like much fun. In both, I would not be able to use one of my greatest assets: my speed. If anything, it sounded like the merfolk would have the upper hand on me in that regard. And then, of course, I would have the same difficulty accessing the coral palace as I would the minotaur maze.

It’s not for me, I decided.

That left only one option. The most dangerous sounding and most mysterious: the saltmarsh dungeon.