Chapter 19: Chapter 18. The Dungeon Seed

Chapter 18. The Dungeon Seed

The hike into the forest reminded me of The Blair Witch Project , a horror movie from the 1990s where a group of college students went looking for a witch and ended up getting lost. I went to see the movie with my sister, years ago, at a local theater that played classic films. I thought I liked horror movies when she took me. Turns out, I don’t. The thing about The Blair Witch Project is that you can’t tell if it’s a documentary. You think it might be real, and that simple confusion makes the whole experience much more frightening. Integration Online had somehow recreated this experience with a mood and atmosphere that made me want to turn right back around. Except that I couldn’t hide behind my hands like I could in the theater. I couldn’t pretend I needed to use the bathroom when the suspense hit a fever pitch.

The journey started cheerful, with plenty of nervous laughter and false confidence. Harpies, Henry explained, were witches that flew. They had a nest in these woods. We were searching for a rare spawn.

As we got closer, the forest got darker by the mile. Blue skies became gray. Colorful aspens and blue evergreens became bare and brown. The ground smelled like mud and rot. I began to see small clues that witches were close. A tiny effigy hung from a bare branch. A set of twigs in the shape of a pentagram. In the distance, a cackle reverberated in a high pitch tone.

We halted, and Janica flew into the back of me. She looked nervous for an instant, then regained her composure and puffed out her chest.

I heard a chime, a sort of system alert.

Your Perceptive Attribute triggered.

I turned. At the edge of my vision, I noticed a man, crouched down, watching us. He wore armor like I had not seen before in the game: a set of leather gear with buckles and straps, adorned in feathers and silver details. He noticed me, and backed away, into the fog and bushes.

“Did anyone see that?” I asked.

“What?” Cassandra said.

“A man, way over there, dressed to the nines.”

Everyone turned.

“He’s gone now, but I saw him for a moment.”

“Sure you did,” Janica said. “I totally believe you.”

Henry gathered us up close. “Harpies are casters,” he said. “I don’t know if they can use magic or not since mana regeneration stopped in this world, but we need to be careful. The goal is to pull one at a time and move slowly through the zone.”

“How do you know all this?” Rowan asked.

“I spent a lot of time in the library over the first few hours,” he said. “I figured since the developers weren’t releasing any information beforehand, I would need to do the research myself. Plus, I love the library.” He closed his eyes. “The smell of books. The quiet. The—”

“Henry,” Rowan interrupted. “Focus.”

He continued. “I found a book by a local botanist who used to come to this zone searching for rare herbs. He wrote that he often had to flee the area because of a rare, elite harpy named Madam Avoah. He encountered her all over this area, never in the same place twice. She was easy for him to avoid because she sings wherever she goes. Unlucky for us, she’s supposed to be very dangerous. Lucky for us, she’s often by herself. Double lucky for us, she can be heard singing from a long way off.”

“Why her?” I asked.

“In his story, the botanist noticed that a certain rare herb, a flower called Witch Hazel, grew along the path that Madam Avoah traveled. The flower can be used in several rare potions. They’re valuable enough that this botanist risked his life to collect them. He also believed that Madam Avoah ate these flowers to sustain her youth. He began to travel the same path, ahead of her, stealing her herb. It was in this manner that I believe he died.”

Nobody said a word. This place was creepy enough without this man’s death fresh in our minds.

“Are we here to find that rare herb?” Cassandra asked.

Henry shrugged. “Not quite, but if we see one, we should try to pick it. I have 15 Expertise in herbalism, so I might be able to collect them.”

I felt immediately jealous. I bet those herbs sell for a boatload. “How’d you get that high of Expertise already?” I asked.

“Oh,” Henry said. “Remember the glowing flowers in the Silverlore mine? I picked about twenty of them while I was there.”

I shot a glare at Janica.

“What?” she said. “It’s not my fault you—”

I cut her off with a finger over my lips.

“What am I missing between you two?” Rowan asked.

“Nothing,” I said. “Nothing. Go on, Henry.”

He shrugged. “Anyway, I was reading about this botanist when I found a pretty interesting clue that had nothing to do with herbs.” Henry wagged his eyebrows at us.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“Dude,” Cassandra said, “you have to stop doing that.”

“What?” Henry asked.

“Look, all respect,” Cassandra said, “but the eyebrow thing is weird.”

Henry looked down. “Sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be offended,” Cassandra said. “We all do weird things. I’m telling you as a friend. Go on.”

“Okay,” he said, seeming to have recovered. “The botanist noticed that Madam Avoah was kind of a bully. She would approach groups of harpies, get in arguments with them, and then sing a song when she got really angry. The harpies all around her would fall asleep.” Henry paused, then looked at each one of us in turn. This time, no eyebrows. “It is this sleep spell that I believe we need for the next part of the quest. I don’t see a way around it. You’ll see why when I share the quest.”

A prompt appeared, but accompanied by a mystical, symphonic sound. The background to the prompt window was a gold-orange color. I immediately felt a tingle down my spine.

You were offered a Legendary Quest:

The Tree of Secrets bores its spore,

‎ Four in every twenty score.

‎ One will go to each direction,

‎ To be treated with affection.

‎ Seven days and the seeds will die.

‎ Plant them right with room to lie.

‎ Fertilizers make them stronger

‎ Deeper, dangerous, wild, longer.

‎ A guardian, plus six they need—

‎ Flora, Fauna, Ore for greed,

‎ One to give them roots and lore,

‎ And two to build their magic cores.

‎ If seven days have not yet passed,

‎ And gathered all of what is asked,

‎ Then when you plant these magic spores,

‎ Down will grow four dungeon cores.

Objective: On the third day of this year, a Dungeon Seed will be transported through each of the four zones. Each seed will be guarded heavily by a contingent from Central City. The seed that is brought to the Western zone will pass through River Junction at approximately noon. Plant the seed using an Elemental Core as one of the ingredients.

Rewards: 2000 Silver pieces and 1000 experience points.

Do you accept: Yes/No

I looked up at Henry, agape. “I have… so many questions,” I stammered out.

“I’ll start,” said Rowan. “How do you expect us to get one of these seeds?”

“And what the hell did you get us into?” Cassandra added.

“Where did you get this?” I piled on.

Henry waited for each of us to quiet down. “Logging into the game, I knew that the magic system was broken. I want, more than anything, to become a mage. So instead of fighting rabbits, I went straight for the library. I began as an Apprentice Job, which means that I can read any language. I also acquired a special Attribute from the character creation process that allows me to find information within a library quickly. All I have to do is think of a word or a phrase, and any book that contains the phrase will light up. Kind of like a Google search with physical books. So what could have taken me days or weeks to find, I was able to figure out in hours.

“After a series of searches, I found evidence that four dungeon seeds were produced by the Tree of Possibilities the same day that gamers were allowed into the world. Four hundred years ago, the last time dungeon seeds were spawned, one was delivered to each of the zones, along with the required materials to plant them. I believed that they would repeat this process, again. But I wasn’t sure. Yet. There was only one way to verify that all of my research was correct. A quest can only be created with accurate information. So I knew that if I could create a quest that I would be on the right track. That’s where the Silverlode Mine came in. There were stories about an elemental, living inside that mine. I believed I could convince him to create a legendary quest for me. I was correct. In exchange for giving me the legendary quest, I promised to make one of the five ingredients an Elemental Core, which will bring great power to the Elemental Spirits in this zone. So I shared all of my information with him, and he created the quest.”

“Wait,” I said. “When we saw you in the mine you told us you didn’t get to the elemental. Was that a lie?”

Henry shrugged. “Sorry. I didn’t trust any of you. And I didn’t want to explain myself. There was another route to the elemental that didn’t require me to fight.”

I could understand that. And, yet, the lie still bothered me. What else was he lying about?

“Why do you think planting a dungeon core is going to help you become a mage?” Janica asked.

Henry nodded. “I don’t know for sure, but I think that this dungeon seed, because it was grown over 400 years, might be immune to whatever is affecting the rest of the zone.”

“I don’t get it,” I said.

“The Tree of Possibilities takes four centuries to grow these seeds,” Henry said. “For 380 years, magic worked fine in this world. Right, Janica?”

#x200e She nodded.

“Twenty years ago, a big event happened called The Great Mistake. But that was only twenty years ago. These seeds did most of their growing with magic. That’s why I think that when these dungeon seeds are planted, they might allow magic. In them or near them. I don’t know. It’s just a theory. But I want to know for sure.”

“Okay,” I said. “So why do we need a sleep spell?”

#x200e “Because the guards that will carry this dungeon seed through the Western Zone are much too strong for us to overpower,” Henry said.

“So we’re going to put them to sleep,” Rowan cut in. “And steal the dungeon seed.”

Henry nodded.

The sound of high-pitched chatter interrupted our conversation. We weren’t alone.