Pocket Dungeon, page 1
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Chapter 1
I might be dead.
It wouldn’t have been a crazy possibility. I was sure there were all sorts of bloodborne pathogens or secret diseases I could have somehow caught. Or maybe I’d accidentally breathed in some spores of hallucinogenic mushrooms and ended up tripping balls, passing out, and choking on my own spit. And now this was my end.
Or maybe the crystal I’d bought earlier was actually some sort of poisonous element. There had to be some logical explanation as to why one second, I had been looking into the odd, unmarked crystal, and the next I was in some sort of… medieval-looking room.
The world felt like it was spinning around me, and my head felt like it was full of syrup. I planted one hand on a rough stone wall as I tried to steady myself and waited for everything to go back to normal.
Maybe if I just closed my eyes, when I opened them, I would be back in my shitty apartment where I was most definitely passed out right now in a puddle of my own drool and holding a random crystal.
I took a deep breath and clamped my eyes shut. I waited for some kind of change, something that would make all of this make any sort of sense. But when I opened my eyes, I was still in the strange-looking room.
Fuck.
Whatever was going on, it was clearly not going to change anytime soon. I glanced around the room to try and get a grasp on my surroundings.
The lighting in the small room was dim. The only source of light at all was a series of three torches mounted onto the wall with rusty hardware. I was amazed that they were actually able to hold a flame with all of the water dripping down from the ceiling.
The room was small enough that I could have walked the entire perimeter in thirty or so paces. The walls were made of dark gray stone. It was rough to the touch and felt a little like it was covered in dirt and moss. The floors and ceiling were made of the same sort of stone. The only furniture was a large island sort of thing in the center of the small room, a small treasure chest, and a series of primitive-looking wooden lockers against the wall.
There was a ladder propped up against one of the walls that led to a grimy trapdoor at the top. The only other way out of the room was a large wooden door against the opposite wall, and it had those old-school metal brackets that I associated with shit like Game of Thrones.
I shook my head as I realized that if I was actually alive and only hallucinating right now, I might be a lost cause for the rest of my life. I could never live this kind of insanity down.
What the hell had happened to me when I looked into that weird crystal?
My sister, Carrie, had already given me enough shit for buying the thing in the first place. I imagined her coming to my funeral and acting all high and mighty for being right.
In my defense, I hadn’t even intended to buy anything when she dragged me into some sort of hippie store that had popped up on the corner next to my favorite brunch place. But because she was my sister, and because she was only in town for the rest of the day, I’d caved and went with her.
I didn’t believe in any of that hippie shit, but even I could admit that rocks were pretty cool. So while my sister had some sort of long and probably insane conversation about horoscopes and healing energies with the white woman with dreadlocks at the front of the store, I’d looked at the motherfucking rocks.
All of the stones were labeled with their name and whatever alleged properties they had, but I’d come across one that didn’t have any information at all. It was about the size of my palm, with a strange, almost electric-green color washed throughout the otherwise pale pink stone. I had never seen anything else like it.
At the time, I’d have guessed it was some kind of quartz with my limited rock knowledge, but it wasn’t anywhere near the other quartz, and even to my untrained eye I could tell that the structure of the rock was… off. It almost looked like there was a circle in the center of the stone, like an eyepiece.
It was weird.
There was something about the strange stone that had called to me, too. I didn’t believe in fate or anything of that nature, but I couldn’t deny that I felt like I was meant to own the crystal.
Carrie had given me a ton of shit when I’d brought it up to the register and paid a measly five bucks for it, but it was still better than the stack of ugly tarot decks she’d bought alongside her haul of incense.
It was when I’d started to investigate the stone later in the night that I’d found myself suddenly in this place.
The crystal had to be what sent me here, right?
I’d taken it out of my pocket and seen a strange glow in the center of the circular divot on the stone. I’d raised it up to my eye to try and see what on Earth could be making the crystal glow, and the next second, I felt like I had a case of whiplash and was standing in the center of a medieval room.
“What’s happening?” I asked aloud to the empty room.
I didn’t expect an answer, but a second later, I felt as if I was blinded by a sudden flash of green light. I gave a sharp gasp and stumbled back into the center island as I tried to regain my vision.
“You have entered a Level One Dungeon,” an automated-sounding voice said. I wasn’t sure where the voice was coming from. There didn’t seem to be any sort of speakers in the room. And it honestly sounded like it was coming from… inside my head?
“What?” I gasped as I finally regained my vision.
“Please equip yourself and proceed through the door to the dungeon. You have three hours to navigate the dungeon successfully,” the voice continued. “If you fail, you will be trapped inside of the dungeon for the rest of eternity. Good luck.”
As if on cue, the lockers against the wall swung open in an ominous sequence. I swallowed the lump that had welled up in my throat and studied the lockers.
What the fuck was going on? Had I eaten something strange? Was this, like, the world’s worst case of food poisoning? I hadn’t taken anything, but this sounded way too similar to the story my buddy who did mushrooms had told me about his trip.
It was only then that I realized there was something in the corner of my vision. I saw what looked like a small countdown clock frozen at 3:00:00. It was like there was something stuck in my eye, and I furrowed my brow in confusion.
Then I turned in a slow circle, just to make sure I hadn’t missed something along the walls, but sure enough, the strange countdown clock was only in my vision.
I gave another turn, and the clock followed me with each move I made.
“Okay…” I muttered as my mind reeled.
That must have been the three hour timer. If what that strange voice had said to me was correct, then it probably started as soon as I stepped out of the door and into whatever awaited me.
Which according to the voice was a Level One Dungeon.
Shit, I hadn’t picked up a video game in years, but that sure as hell sounded like one, and I shook my head as I realized again how insane I sounded.
I looked around the room for some other way out of this shit. The only other exit seemed to be the trapdoor above me, but there was a thick chain and a large, threatening-looking lock draped across it that I wouldn’t be able to pick in a thousand years.
That left me with one choice: I guessed I was going to get whatever equipment was in those lockers and then head out into whatever waited for me on the other side of that door.
I took a breath to steady myself and walked over to the row of lockers.
Only one of them seemed to have anything inside of it, so I reached in and grabbed the bulky, leather-wrapped bundle. I tossed it onto the island in the center of the small room and unwrapped the hefty package.
I wasn’t sure what I had expected to see, but it certainly wasn’t a fucking sword. I sucked in a breath through my teeth as I looked at the weapon. I was far from an expert in swords and weaponry, but it looked like a longsword that had a handle long enough for two hands.
I recognized the style from when my ex-girlfriend had made me binge-watch the Netflix version of The Witcher with her. I think it was just because she’d had a crush on Henry Cavill, which should have been a sign that our relationship wasn’t going to last if that was her type.
I had it on good authority that I had a handsome face, but Henry Cavill was built like… Uhhh… Superman, and I looked like my best friend was a Great Dane who I also solved mysteries with.
I picked up the sword to get a handle on how it felt in my hand. The hilt was wrapped in some sort of leather that nearly crumbled under my touch, and the blade itself seemed a little worse for wear, but it didn’t feel off balance. Or at least, I didn’t think it felt off balance.
It took me a second to realize there was text floating in the air over the sword.
“Whoa,” I murmured. I gave the sword a small wave, but the text floated over the top of it still.
The text over the sword was in white and read “Spike.” I figured it was the sword’s name.
When I blinked again, the text over the top of the sword disappeared.
This shit was starting
I set the sword down to investigate the rest of the things in the leather parcel.
There were only a couple of items left. One was a pair of tanned leather gloves that looked like they were about my size, and the other thing was a sheath for the sword.
There wasn’t exactly much to equip myself with, but I supposed anything was better than nothing. I picked up the gloves, and just like the sword, text floated over the item.
The words were written in white and designated the gloves as “Tanned Beginner’s Gloves.” Instead of putting the gloves down or blinking away the label this time, I decided to investigate a little closer.
It reminded me of the clock I had seen in my vision that was clearly only apparent to me, but I wanted to investigate a little further to test my hypothesis.
I reached out toward the text and was surprised to see that my hand was actually extending toward it, like it was really there in the world. Then my fingers brushed against some sort of invisible screen. I hesitated, but then I tapped at the “screen.” I was glad that I did, because in the blink of an eye, a new series of text appeared over the top of the item.
Tanned Beginner’s Gloves
Stamina: +1
Dexterity: +1
Stealth: +1
Those must have been the item’s stats. They seemed pretty basic, and I wasn’t really sure how they stacked with anything else, but I supposed this all sort of did work like a video game. I guess it made sense.
Even though how the hell I’d gotten into this situation didn’t.
I slipped the gloves on and then grabbed the sword’s sheath.
The white text over the sheath informed me that it was “Spike’s Sheath.” When I tapped the name to see the stats, it was formatted the same way as the gloves had been.
Spike’s Sheath
Dexterity: +1
I slotted the sheath along my belt and picked up the battered longsword again. This time, I tapped on the stats for the sword to get a look at those. They were formatted a little differently than the previous two items were, and I wondered if that was because it was a weapon and the other items were constituted as armor and equipment. I still had a lot of shit to figure out, if any of this was even real.
I hadn’t completely moved past the idea that I was dead or in some wild coma.
Spike
Damage- Average
Attack Speed- Slow
It seemed like a less than great sword, but any weapon was better than nothing while heading into the unknown that stared me down. I slid the sword into the sheath and glanced around the small room.
I checked each of the other lockers to make sure I hadn’t missed any other equipment, but it was clear there wasn’t anything left in the room. Well, except for the treasure chest.
I slowly turned on my heel and eyed the dim corner where the chest sat. Then I strolled over and crouched down to get a better look. There was no lock on it, and no latch for that matter. I could see a seam running around it where the lid would open from, though, so I made an effort to pry it open.
The damn thing must have been welded shut.
I grunted and pried at the chest a few more times, and in the process, it occurred to me that I couldn’t lift it, either. It was like someone created a statue of a treasure chest, secured it in place, and left it there so every schmuck who walked by would blow their backs out trying to get inside it.
This thought brought a grimace to my face, and I stood up immediately.
I had officially run out of reasons to put off whatever was waiting for me on the other side of the door.
I took a deep breath and steeled myself for what I might see. Then I made my way over and opened the door.
A faint jolt of electricity, almost like a static shock, seemed to move through my body, and the small timer in the corner of my vision began to tick down.
I sucked in a deep breath and stepped away from the door. It slammed closed behind me as if by its own volition. I quickly turned around and saw that I was now facing a solid wall. The door that had been there only seconds before had disappeared.
“Son of a bitch,” I breathed with a slight hint of panic.
If I wanted to get out of this dungeon, I was going to have to move forward.
The light in the hallway that stretched out before me was dim. Like the equipment room, it was lit by rusty-looking torches mounted to the walls every few feet. But even then, the firelight did little to take away the overwhelming gloom of the dungeon.
The smell of mildew and dampness clogged my nostrils, and I fought the urge to pull the collar of my shirt up over my nose. I was sure I would go nose blind to it soon enough. There was something else underneath the musty basement smell, however. It was sharp and a little sweet like spoiled milk.
I didn’t know for certain, but I had a niggling feeling in my gut that it was blood.
Shit.
I took a deep breath and focused on the hallway.
The stone floor was uneven and pitted. Small pools of some sort of murky liquid filled the pits and formed puddles. I made sure to step around the first puddle I came across as I began to walk. My boots were nice, but they weren’t exactly waterproof.
I debated pulling Spike out to hold the longsword in front of me, but decided it was probably smarter to have my hands free in case I needed them. I had no idea what to expect as I slowly crept down the hallway and made my way to the first bend.
Then I came across a small dark hallway to my left. I’d nearly missed the entryway thanks to the lack of lighting.
The side path was entirely dark. No matter how hard I strained my eyes, I couldn’t make anything out past the thick curtain of gloom.
I took a small step forward before hesitating. It didn’t seem smart to walk into the darkness completely unaware of what waited for me inside, and I narrowed my eyes as I took stock of the area.
I hadn’t really played any video games since undergrad because I’d simply been far too busy. It had admittedly bummed me the hell out to find that part of my life slipping out of my reach at first, but I’d gotten so used to the grind over the years that I’d hardly even noticed after a while. Now, my old gamer Spidey-Senses felt like they were waking up, and this definitely reminded me of those old-school dungeon crawlers I had been a fan of once upon a time. This whole thing felt like Skyrim but in real life. Or, I supposed if I was dead, the real afterlife.
Despite my lack of recent video game experience, I did have some other real-life experiences that I thought might help. I had been spelunking in caves before when I was a teenager, and one of the first rules of going into any unknown dark place was to not go into an unknown dark place without a source of light. It was a great way to get yourself hurt or killed.
After a second of deliberation, an idea struck me, and I backtracked out of the narrow entryway. A few feet ahead of me on the wall was one of the mounted torches. I made a beeline in its direction and gave a swift yank to pull the ancient wood from the damaged mount.
The fire made a small whooshing sound as I pulled it free, and I held it aloft in the air above me and made sure to keep it far away from my hair. I really didn’t want to accidentally set myself on fire on top of everything else that was going on.
Whatever the hell it was.
With my newly acquired torch, I made my way back to the small entryway. It only took a second to see that the hall led straight to a dead end. Nothing dangerous would have attacked me, but who knows, maybe there was some sort of trap that I easily avoided by thinking things through first.
I started back on the main path. I was incredibly aware of the timer ticking down in the corner of my vision, but I also wanted to be careful. I had no idea what to expect from anything.
Up ahead, the hallway twisted at a right angle. I kept close to the far wall so nothing would be able to jump out and surprise me as I crept around the corner.
I was met with another long, straight hallway, but the hairs on the back of my neck started to stand at attention. Something about this hallway was… strange.
This hallway was distinctly different from the last one I’d been through. The walls were a little wider, and the tiles were odd. They reminded me of when I had tried to print something before, and the ink from the printer had left some items faded while others stood out in bold contrast. Even the torches seemed spaced farther out along the walls. Nothing jumped out at me other than this, but the sudden shift in setup made me wary.
