Dungeons Just Want to Have Fun

“Gah! My eyes!” The man fell back, yelling and cursing up a storm.

Suliel thought, panicked.

Kelsey told her.

Cautiously, Suliel did so. The thug had fallen down on the cobblestones. Suliel’s ears were still ringing from the sound of her shot, but she could hear him yelling without difficulty.

She saw one of her guards, fallen and unmoving as well. It looked like he’d been thrown there when the carriage crashed. Her other guard was… fighting, she thought. She could hear steel clashing but it was behind the carriage.

Kelsey said.

Suliel tried to let the words rush past her, but Kelsey wasn’t done.

Suliel blinked. Someone else? She looked around wildly. She missed him the first time, but then she looked closer at some shadows. There was still light in the sky, but the high walls all around meant that there wasn’t any direct sunlight anywhere near.

There was a man there, hiding. Not magically, just standing in the darkest spot.

Aran Myaren, Level ??, No family, Loyal to: No one, Human, Cunning Ringleader

When he realised he’d been seen, he stepped forward. A wicked-looking curved blade appeared in his hand.

“That’s a nice magical item you’ve got there,” he said. As he stepped out of the darkness, his blade seemed to glimmer with reflected light. Suliel couldn’t seem to look away from it. “I hate to do my own dirty work, but needs must as the gods decide.”

Kelsey shouted in Suliel’s mind.

Suliel asked. Her thoughts were scattered as if…

“Stay back!” she called out, pointing the gun in Aran’s direction. He paused, his face twisting into a snarl.

“If we can’t do this the easy way…” He called out. “Hurry up with that fool and get back here!”

Kelsey said.

“I’m not afraid of you!” Suliel shouted. It wasn’t the most confident of assertions and the man didn’t seem convinced.

“Oh you will be, once—” he broke off to look at his fallen minion. “Bram!” he barked. “Stop flailing around and get up!”

“I can’t see, boss!” Bram said. He nevertheless started struggling to get to his feet.

“Do you stand on your eyes or your feet?” Aran asked acidly. “Get—”

“Boss! Trouble!” the shout came from the other side of the carriage.

“What now,” the ringleader said. Before anyone could speak, the sound of an approaching carriage answered his question.

“Those fools were supposed to divert any—” he cut himself off as the new arrival came into view, veering around Suliel’s wrecked carriage. It was already coming to a stop. It was well made, Suliel noted, but not especially decorated except for the small crest on the door.

“Move along!” Aran yelled at the carriage and gestured with his dagger. “There’s nothing here that a pampered noble wants to get involved in.”

Suliel frowned, trying to make out the design. It looked like—

Her view of it was cut off as the door opened and a young lady stepped outside. The first thing Suliel noticed was the lady’s dress. Suliel could tell at a glance that it was at least the equal of the one that Suliel was wearing. The second thing she noticed was the rapier held in the lady’s hand. Long and thin, it glittered even in the dim light.

“I don’t believe I will, Mr Myaren,” the lady said. “It looks like something very interesting is going on.”

Aran stared at the blade. “Anyn’s teeth,” he swore. “Two Tier Three items in the same hold-up? It might be worth the risk…”

The lady raised an eyebrow and two guards jumped down from the roof of her carriage.

“Ah, there you are,” she said. “I was starting to think I might have to fight at something like even odds.”

Aran cursed and spat on the ground. “We’re running!” he called, immediately following his own advice.

“Not so fast,” the lady said, dashing after him. Her guards winced but followed after.

“Boss?” the blind Bram called out, “I still can’t see!” He’d gotten to his feet, but he was staggering from side to side. Aran left him behind without a word.

The lady lashed out at Bram with her sword as she passed him. Not a proper strike, just lashing out as if she was using a whip. Instead of crying out in pain, Bram just slumped.

“I’ll just… lie… down…” he said. To Suliel’s astonishment, he lay back down and seemed to go to sleep.

Suliel stared at him for a moment and then looked around. The street was empty. The fighting behind her had stopped as well.

“Eshara!” Suliel said suddenly, remembering her guard. Holstering her pistol, she ran over to her fallen guardswoman. She quickly determined that the woman was still breathing. The angle of her lower arm made it easy to tell that it was broken, but that was the limit of Suliel’s medical knowledge.

Hearing footsteps approaching, Suliel looked up quickly, but it was just the lady and her guards.

“He got away,” she called out as she approached. “Are your people all right?”

Suliel rose from where she had been examining Eshara and dipped into her deepest curtsey. This time, she had the presence of mind to use her Trait and confirm what she already suspected.

Elara Jiro, Level ??, Parents alive in the city; One brother, Loyal to: Divided, Human, Dissident Noble

“Your Highness,” Suliel said. “You’ve arrived exceedingly early.”

“I always like to arrive a few hours early to these things,” Elara confessed. “It forces my host to greet me before they’re ready.”

It had been a few hectic hours since the hold-up. Both of Suliel’s guards had survived and had been treated by a priest who had been fetched by one of Elara’s guards. Suliel’s carriage would never be quite the same but should be in working order in a few days. At least she hoped so. She had a lot of cash coming in, but those funds were earmarked for projects already.

“I had a prior engagement,” Suliel complained. “What if it had gone on a little longer?”

“Oh, that would have been the best,” Elara said smugly. “Your servants would have let me in, of course, and then I would have been here to greet you when you arrived.”

Suliel smiled thinly. “I’m sure that would be very amusing for you,”

Inwardly, she flinched. That would have been a disaster. She had been looking forward to a few hours to decompress after her experience with Lady Seraphina and her coterie. The sudden terror of the attack hadn’t been a replacement for an hour in a hot bath, but her interrogation by the gossip-hungry ladies now felt like an age ago.

“Perhaps, but there is a serious reason behind it,” Elara said. “When I catch people off their guard, that’s the only chance I get at seeing their true faces.”

“You certainly caught me unprepared,” Suliel acknowledged. “But does a princess have a reason to care about a backwater noble’s true face?”

“I do,” Elara said seriously. “You’ve seen my Class.”

“I did,” Suliel said carefully. “I would have thought that class included measures to hide it.”

“It does not,” Elara said, “Or… if it does, I haven’t been offered them. You see, Dissident Noble isn’t a Class like Scheming Chamberlain or Traitorous Courtier.”

“It isn’t?” Suliel asked, trying to hide her flinch at the mention of Lady Seraphina’s Class.

“No, it’s right there in the name. I’m not scheming or traitorous. I dissent.”

“I’m still not following,” Suliel confessed.

“In order to dissent, I have to speak out. That makes hiding my Class superfluous.”

“Oh, I see. I can’t imagine that makes your father very pleased,” Suliel said.

“That would be a considerable understatement,” Elara agreed. “But my… peculiar status protects me, as long as all I do is talk.”

“I can’t imagine it’s a popular Class, then,” Suliel said.

“It isn’t,” Elara said. “There might be a few… backwater nobles who speak up from the safety of distance, but if you want to effect change, you need to be here, and very few can do that safely.”

“I certainly couldn’t,” Suliel said. “Disagree with the King? Even if my life wasn’t immediately forfeit, I need his approval for my marriage and inheritance.”

“So few can,” Elara mused. “Which is why I feel there is a need for me to speak up about injustices. As the only one who can, I feel a responsibility.”

“I might feel more impressed with your nobility if your presence wasn’t dragging me into the King’s disfavour,” Suliel said bitterly. “I can’t afford to antagonise His Majesty.”

“Is that a complaint?” Elara said. She spoke lightly and smiled, but the words sent a chill through Suliel’s heart. She couldn’t afford to antagonise Elara, either.

“Of course not,” Suleil said with a false and brittle smile. “How could one such as I think to complain?”

Elara sighed. “I apologise. You need not fear my father’s wrath. My antics are well known in the city and everyone will know that you had no choice but to host me.”

Suliel paused and the anger that was running through her stilled. The thought she was being used still burned, but Elara’s regret seemed real. She remembered that her parents had told her that Royalty never apologised. Elara had come right out and said it. Not “I owe,” or “I should,” she had apologised.

“I accept your apology,” Suliel said slowly, “In the spirit in which it is offered.”

Elara sighed, this time in relief. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m not as precious about it as my parents, but I don’t apologise often.”

“Noted,” Suliel said. “But. It’s not merely his anger I have to fear. I have a Sovereign Class! When I go before him, I’m not only seeking acceptance. I need to beg forgiveness for trespass! Anything that gives him a negative view of me could mean my death!”

“I know,” Elara said. “And I swear to you that my presence will help more than it hinders in that regard.”

Suliel paused for thought again. Elara’s words weren’t necessarily untrue. Dissident or not, as long as the princess wasn’t imprisoned, she had influence in court. Her status as a foreign princess only increased her clout. The question was…

“Why would you spend your influence on me?” Suliel asked.

“Because I think that you can help me,” Elara replied.

Suliel blinked. She could help a princess? “That’s… going to require more of an explanation.”

“Well, I’m not sure yet if you can,” Elara temporised. “Before I go into that, might I learn more about you?”

Suliel knew she couldn’t refuse.

“Our evening meal is about to be served,” she said. “I suppose personal history should make a fine dinner conversation topic.”

Over food, which Elara praised effusively, even though she must be used to more refined fare, Suliel told the story of her father’s death and her marriage. Which was one way to bookend the events that had occurred.

Elara let her talk without interruption, only speaking up when Suliel got to the end.

“I read the report of your mother’s tale,” she said. “There are surprisingly few contradictions between the two.”

Suliel smiled ruefully. “It mainly hinges on our interpretation of the facts, I imagine,” she said. “Though, I doubt my mother mentioned that she was being influenced by Magister Tikin.”

“She did not,” Elara confirmed. “As you say, the difference lies in how you view the dungeon. She sees it as a purely malevolent force, while you see it as an entity that can be negotiated with.”

“A person,” Suliel said. “One that has been at war with the living, but is willing to accept a peace treaty.”

“And you say all dungeons are similarly intelligent?”

“As I understand it, all dungeons have the potential to develop intelligence,” Suliel said.

“Interesting. That’s not generally known, though there have been rumours and speculation about it.”

“The Adventurer’s Guild seems to know it for a fact, though Guildmaster Nyer wouldn’t confirm it until I had already met Kelsey. I don’t know why they’re keeping it a secret.”

Kelsey sent, speaking up for the first time.

“What?” Suliel said, startled.

“What?” Elara asked, confused.

Kelsey said.

Elara was watching Suliel closely. “Is something wrong? she asked.