Delving beneath the surface, whether into dungeons, ruins, or suspiciously deep cellars, presents unique challenges. Darkness, unstable structures, and lack of breathable air are the obvious dangers. But the true threats often lurk where you least expect them.
Common Subterranean Annoyances & Existential Threats:
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Traps: Mechanical (pressure plates, dart launchers, pit falls) and Magical (rune triggers, curses, illusions). Assume every chest is trapped. Assume every floor tile is suspicious. Assume the architect was a sadist. (See Section 155: Basic Trap Disarmament - Or, How to Lose Only One Finger).
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Environmental Hazards: Poisonous gas pockets, sudden floods, cave-ins, extreme temperatures (geothermal vents next to magically frozen chambers – classic!). Proper ventilation and structural assessment are key (if you possess such ludicrously niche skills).
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Disorientation: Lack of landmarks, twisting passages, magical distortions. Getting lost is easy; getting found (by something hungry) is easier. [Cartography] or [Sense Direction] skills are invaluable. Or just leave a trail of breadcrumbs (warning: may attract rats or worse).
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Vermin (Upgraded): Forget cellar rats. Think giant centipedes, acid-spitting beetles, cave spiders the size of ponies, and other chitinous nightmares. Bring appropriate countermeasures (fire, large boots, existential dread).
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Gelatinous Horrors (Slimes & Oozes): Ah, slimes. Despite certain... unreliable narratives depicting them as helpful companions or even protagonists (likely slime propaganda funded by the Amorphous Agenda), the vast majority you encounter will be mindless, corrosive, and utterly disgusting. They engulf, dissolve, and replicate. Their only redeeming quality is occasionally containing undigested coins or keys. Approach with extreme prejudice, ranged attacks preferred. Avoid melee unless you enjoy having your gear (and skin) dissolved. Their internal structure is an affront to physics and good taste. They jiggle aggressively. Need I say more? (See Appendix S: Slime Taxonomy and Effective Dissolution Methods).
Remember: The deeper you go, the higher the stakes. Ensure your gear is sound, your escape route planned, and your will updated.
(Inkstained Prophet's Tirade: Seriously, protagonist slimes? What's next, heroic tax collectors? Get real. If it oozes, neutralize it. End of story.)
[Kevin's Story: Part 15 - Deeper and Danker]
Kevin stood before the side door of Warehouse Four once again, the heavy iron key feeling familiar in his hand. This time, it wasn't just about coppers; it was about information. The Concerned Veteran's tasks always seemed to push him slightly beyond his comfort zone, dangling cryptic rewards. Missing inventory. Deeper cellar sections. Discretion.
He slipped inside, the warehouse quiet and still in the late afternoon light slanting through the grimy windows. He unbolted the trapdoor, the scent of must and damp stone greeting him like an old, unpleasant acquaintance. He gripped his [Sturdy Dagger (Fair Quality)] and descended the ladder, his slightly better boots finding purchase more easily than before.
The main cellar area was much as he remembered it from the rat hunt – cold, dark, littered with debris. But something felt different. Quieter. Fewer skittering sounds. He held his breath, straining his ears, practicing the 'Advanced Observation' the Guide mentioned. He could hear the drip-drip-drip of water somewhere distant, the faint sigh of wind through unseen cracks, but the pervasive rustling of rats was diminished. Had his previous extermination efforts been that effective? Or was something else keeping them away?
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He moved cautiously, dagger held ready, using his INT 10 to recall the layout from his previous visit and his DEX 10 to avoid stumbling over rubble. He examined the stacked crates near the walls. Some were definitely disturbed, pry marks visible on lids, packing straw spilling out. Small crates, easily portable, just as the Veteran's note described. Someone had been here, selectively looting.
The note mentioned deeper sections. Kevin scanned the walls, looking for anything out of place. His [Urban Navigation] skill didn't extend to dungeon crawling, but his boosted INT helped him spot subtle inconsistencies. In one corner, behind a stack of rotting barrels, the stonework looked... newer? Less worn? He pushed against it. It didn't budge. He examined the edges, running his fingers along the seams. No obvious mechanism.
He brought out his [Basic Toolkit], selecting the prybar-like tool. Carefully, trying to make minimal noise, he worked the tip into a crack near the floor. With a grunt, leveraging his STR 9, he applied pressure. There was a grating sound, and a section of the wall, about waist-high, pivoted inwards, revealing a dark opening. A hidden passage.
Ding!
[Secret Discovered: Hidden Cellar Passage!]
[+10 EXP!] (198/200 EXP - Almost Level 3!)
A wave of even colder, damper air flowed out, carrying a faint, slightly acidic tang. This was it. He squeezed through the opening into a narrow tunnel, the darkness absolute beyond the faint light spilling from the main cellar. He wished, not for the first time, for some kind of light source.
He proceeded slowly, one hand trailing along the rough stone wall, dagger held forward. The tunnel sloped downwards slightly, twisting. After a few meters, it opened into another chamber, larger than he expected, but still pitch black. The acidic tang was stronger here.
And then he saw it. Or rather, sensed it. A faint luminescence, a pale, sickly green glow emanating from the far side of the chamber. It pulsed gently, rhythmically. And accompanying the glow was a soft, wet, slurping sound.
Kevin froze. His mind instantly flashed to the Guide. Gelatinous Horrors. Mindless, corrosive, utterly disgusting. Jiggles aggressively. Neutralize on sight.
He squinted, trying to make out the source of the glow. It seemed to be a roughly spherical blob, maybe half a meter across, translucent, pulsing softly. It didn't appear to be moving aggressively. In fact, it seemed... stationary, almost placidly slurping something off the floor.
But the Inkstained Prophet's warnings echoed louder than the slurping sounds. Slime propaganda! Amorphous Agenda! This thing, however harmless it looked, was an affront. It was slime.
He raised his dagger, heart pounding. Okay, Module 4... non-flailing... aim... wait, the Guide said ranged attacks preferred. He didn't have any. Melee meant risking dissolution. He glanced around for a rock to throw, anything.
Before he could act, the slime finished its floor-slurping and began to... glide? It moved slowly, smoothly across the stone floor, leaving a faintly glistening trail. It wasn't heading towards him, but deeper into the chamber. Its glow faintly illuminated the area around it.
And in the slime's wake, on the patch of floor it had just been 'cleaning', something glinted.
Kevin hesitated. Attack the disgusting blob? Or investigate the glint? Discretion, the Veteran had advised. Maybe starting a fight wasn't the most discreet option. He lowered his dagger slightly, watching the slime ooze away into the darkness. It seemed completely uninterested in him. Maybe... maybe not all slimes are immediately hostile? The thought felt heretical, a betrayal of the Guide's wisdom.
He edged forward cautiously, keeping an eye on the receding glow, and knelt beside the spot the slime had vacated. Lying on the damp stone, partially obscured by grime until the slime 'cleaned' it, was a small, tarnished metal object. Not a coin. It looked like... a cufflink? Engraved with a simple motif – crossed anchors. Wharf Rat insignia? No, different. More refined.
Ding!
[Clue Acquired: [Engraved Cufflink (Crossed Anchors)]]
[Quest Item?]
[Unknown Faction Symbol.]
As Kevin picked up the cufflink, the System chimed again, a different tone this time.
Ding!
[Incoming Message from 'Concerned Veteran'...]
[Task Partially Complete. Cufflink is significant. Belongs to the 'Sea Serpent Guild' - rivals to the Wharf Rats, involved in higher-stakes smuggling. Their presence here complicates things.]
[Reward (Information): Finn O'Malley wasn't just gambling. He was acting as a low-level informant, playing both sides (Wharf Rats vs. Sea Serpents). His death likely wasn't about simple debt.]
[Further Instructions Pending. Stay Alert. Exit the way you came.]
Kevin stared at the cufflink, then at the message overlay. Sea Serpent Guild? Informant? Playing both sides? Finn's death was suddenly looking a lot less random and a lot more dangerous. And he'd just found a clue potentially linking a rival smuggling guild to theft in Wharf Rat territory, right after encountering a... weirdly harmless slime?
He pocketed the cufflink, glanced nervously back towards the darkness where the slime had disappeared, and decided discretion was definitely the better part of valor. Time to get out of the cellar. The grind was getting complicated.