The dungeon at Cairhaven was in the center of the small town, so close to the exact middle of the hex that a structure had to be built on top of it in order to make room for the warp point. It was an unusual configuration, something that Alfric had never seen before, and he found that he had an affection for it.

Dungeon entrances were always in a random place within the hex, which sometimes made things awkward or difficult, especially when they were underwater. Similar but opposite, the warp point was always in the hexal centerpoint, which was sometimes inconvenient, requiring a platform to be built so that people wouldn’t find themselves on the edge of a cliff, in the middle of a lake, or somewhere else that might be dangerous. A dungeon on top of a warp point seemed quite unlikely, and Alfric was tempted to break out some math, maybe with Pinion’s help, in order to find out just how rare it was. It was entirely possible that this was the only hex that had an overlap like this in the entire world.

Their dungeon team was one of firsts: their first time without Mizuki, their first time without Hannah, and their first time with Pinion. It was such a major shakeup that under normal circumstances, Alfric would have insisted that their party take some time to do team exercises and further training, especially because Pinion was not in any sense of the word a dungeoneer, and particularly because they were going in with four rather than the full five. But this wasn’t a normal dungeon, it was something that Verity would be making, not a dungeon in the conventional sense at all. While there had been some surprises, a few of them unpleasant, they didn’t need to be fully geared for combat. What they needed was to be ready for anything.

Mizuki was being surprisingly laid back about not being there for the mission, and Alfric didn’t quite trust it.

“You being worried about me having a bad reaction is going to make me have a bad reaction,” said Mizuki, and that had more or less been the end of the conversation. Besides, there were only so many ways of asking ‘are you really sure you’re fine with this’.

Alfric had, deep down, been hoping for a little bit of a reaction. It would have been the Mizuki thing to do, and it would have underscored the fact that they were a dungeoneering party and she was an integral part of it. But if she was going to be mature about it, Alfric was going to have to accept that, and not think that it was a secret sign that she was outgrowing the group.

“I’m nervous,” said Pinion. He was in full armor, a lobster-red entad that he’d purchased from a shop a few days prior. It was classic panic gear, perfect for an inexperienced newcomer: it let him merge into someone near him, zipping across the battlefield to do so. There were some harsh limitations to it, and a faintly fishy smell, but it had seemed like a good purchase, especially given the low asking price. It had, apparently, been taking up space in the entad shop for seven years.

“Nervous why?” asked Isra.

“It’s not entirely safe,” said Pinion. “And we’re changing many things at once.”

“It’s a good test,” said Verity. “But I think it shouldn’t matter all that much. The technique doesn’t feel like it depends upon anyone but the bard.”

“I think it’s a little soon to call it a technique,” said Alfric.

“It’s definitely a technique,” said Verity. “I’m all good to go, by the by.”

It was a bit too casual for Alfric’s liking, but he had run through his pre-dungeon checklist, and he had made sure that everything under his control was ready as well. Pinion was a liability, frankly, but he was armored up, and Alfric was hopeful that he would be a research asset more than he was a tourist.

Verity was the first one through the dungeon entrance, at her request, but Alfric was immediately after her, ready to kill anything that she’d managed to conjure up.

When he came through, Verity was standing at the edge of a cliff, looking out on the wide landscape before her. Alfric was looking for threats, but the lute that was supposed to scream in case of trouble was silent, and after half a minute of watching and listening, he let his guard down a bit and came to join her, which gave Isra and Pinion time to join them. They were high up, and a verdant crater was before them.

They were on the inside of the crater, unable to see anything beyond it, if there was something beyond it. The crater walls were free of vegetation, mostly rock, but the floor was a bucolic scene a few miles across, verdant prairies whose grasses were rippling in the wind and a forest on the crater’s far edge, kept at bay by a lake but threatening to move in around the lake’s edges.

From a distance, they could see a herd of brown creatures grazing on the prairie grasses. This had been one of the major goals for this dungeon: docile creatures. Whether they were actually docile remained to be seen, but Verity seemed to have manipulated the dungeon into making a herd of grazing animals. They seemed large to Alfric, worryingly so, but it was something.

In the woods, there was a thin trail of smoke, as from a campfire, and Alfric’s eyes were drawn to it. Verity had been trying to not have people or anything like them, and her success there, too, remained to be seen. The presumed campfire was a bad sign.

“Alright,” said Verity. “Not quite what I was imagining.”

“It’s a pleasant valley,” said Isra.

“Crater, not valley,” said Alfric. He pointed out at the crater walls. “The reverse dome-shape, that comes from a heavy impact, and one this size, half a hex across, would have to have been the kind of impact that would only come with utter calamity. These were, in deep history, impacts that came from weapons.”

“Supposedly,” said Pinion.

Alfric laughed. “I’m sure it sounds like one of Mizuki’s stories. But I visited the Donguru Crater and learned all about them when I was little, and the guides seemed to credit the idea of weapons.”

“Is that much to see, a crater?” asked Isra. She was looking out, skeptical. “It has its beauty, I suppose.”

“I’ve been to the Donguru,” said Verity. “This looks inspired by that. The way the edges were carved by force, not erosion … nothing else like it.” She turned to Isra. “I would suggest a crater visit, yes. It can be an experience, thinking about destruction of that scale.”

“But you weren’t trying for a crater?” asked Pinion.

“No,” said Verity, shaking her head. “I was trying to have a smaller dungeon this time, something contained. I guess we get this.”

Alfric cleared his throat. “If the dungeon is a mile across, it would be among the largest dungeons that a party of our elevation has ever faced. In truth, it seems more likely to be two miles in diameter.”

“That would be three point one four square miles,” said Pinion.

“How do you know that?” asked Isra. “The math seems difficult.”

“It’s not, really,” said Pinion. “We can talk about mathematical constants later though. We’ve a dungeon to explore, don’t we?”

Exploring was easier said than done, though there was a vague suggestion of a trail going down the crater wall, and for a few stretches of the descent, the rocks were arranged so that they almost formed stairs. It was never as though someone had built something for people to walk down, instead as though pieces of debris had fallen in exactly the correct places so as to never have to jump or climb down. It was uncanny, in a way, but Alfric was still finding the smoke from within the forest more uncanny. He was hoping that it was a campsite, seemingly abandoned, stew unattended and cooking down to nothing, like they had seen before.

He looked back at the place they’d come from, which he’d marked with a red flag, and made sure that he could see it. In an emergency, they would be able to be out fast. He had the helm that allowed flight, and could scoop up the others. This was a dungeon with monsters, after all, and there was some cause for caution, even if Verity had tried to keep dungeon madness from affecting them.

The grass was an interesting variety, with leaves that curled into corkscrews when touched. After a handful of seconds, the grass would uncurl, becoming long and smooth again, erasing any evidence of their passing.

They were moving toward the creatures, who seemed to have noticed them. But the animals were cautious, not violent, wary in the way of a wild rabbit.

“You did it,” said Alfric.

“Party channel?” asked Pinion.

“Not necessary, unless you think they’ll spook,” said Alfric. He was keeping his voice low.

This was probably how rules got broken, he thought. You convinced yourself that it was fine, that you didn’t need to follow proper precautions all the time, that you were special or different. Seasoned dungoneers were supposed to check themselves over for riders when they left the dungeon, they were supposed to only use the party channel, there were hundreds of best practices — and they all added up to more time, which people were keen not to spend, especially not against one in a hundred chances.

But Alfric really was in a special situation, and it felt better to speak into the air. It felt more in the moment. This was basically not a dungeon at all. He was getting sloppy, and only slowly realizing it, which was the worst way to realize that you were getting sloppy.

<Actually, yes, party channel only,> said Alfric.

<They will spook,> said Isra, who was looking out at the animals. <They’re not dungeon mad though.>

<I did it,> said Verity with a happy smile. <They’re somewhat close to what I pictured too.>

The animals were grazing on the corkscrew grass, but they had all turned to watch the approaching humans. They reminded Alfric most closely of deer, though their heads were much larger, and they were bigger animals overall, six feet at the shoulder. Their chests were deep and muscular, their flanks a deep, rich, brown, and they looked built for speed in the way they moved. Long hair came down as a tail, and was quickly whipped from side to side in what seemed to be a nervous tic. Their eyes were on the sides of their heads, back from the long snout and prominent nostrils. They were still grazing, but also watching.

<Can you call one to us?> asked Alfric.

<Yes,> said Isra. She held out a hand, as though she had something to offer, and one of the animals tossed back its head, which rearranged its mane. It was half a minute before it trotted over though, steady on its feet — a singular hoof on each, exposed as the grass corkscrewed up tight. It was still cautious.

<This thing is big,> said Alfric. <Worryingly so.> Estimating a dungeon monster’s size was difficult, but size was one of the primary things to consider in any combat scenario, given how tightly it was correlated with muscle mass, reach, and difficulty in incapacitating the creature. If it did come to a fight, if they charged en masse, it would be a serious challenge. Even with just one of them, a thousand pounds of muscle could be difficult to deal with.

<It needs to be big,> said Verity.

<Why?> asked Pinion.

<Because you’re supposed to ride it,> said Verity.

Alfric took the creature in. Verity hadn’t explained what she was attempting to bring into existence, but if it was supposed to be a riding animal, he didn’t think that she’d done it. It seemed too tall to him, legs too angular, a creature of too much muscle. And it was so big, bigger than he thought it needed to be to carry a person.

<There are a lot of things that can go wrong with a bastle,> said Alfric. <A diet that’s too expensive or impossible, biological processes that don’t work right, reproduction that doesn’t work right —>

<Can I touch it?> asked Verity. She had her hand reached out toward the creature’s muzzle. The question wasn’t for Alfric, but for Isra.

<It’s docile,> said Isra.

<Yes or no?> asked Alfric.

Isra looked at him, perturbed for a moment, but it faded away quickly. She understood the need for being precise. <Yes, you can touch it. Move slowly. Be gentle.>

Verity touched the creature on the side of its head, and it bowed a bit lower to allow more of that. Up close, the black eyes were enormous. <It’s beautiful,> said Verity.

<It’s awkward,> said Isra.

Verity turned to look at her. <How so?>

<The legs,> said Isra. <I don’t like them. They’re each like a single long toe, the hoof like the nail. I’ve never seen anything like it.> She was looking at her own finger, which she’d curled slightly. She reached forward and touched the creature’s foreleg, delicately feeling it. <There are bones in there, like they were supposed to be other toes.> She was frowning.

<It seems like it moves fine,> Pinion ventured.

<It would die with a single break of any of these legs,> said Isra. <It can’t support its weight on three legs, and can’t lay down for long. The lower part of the leg gets little blood flow, which means it would heal only slowly. A cleric could help, but … this isn’t how an animal is supposed to be. It’s speed before everything else. I’m not even sure how it’s breathing when it runs, or whether it won’t get winded when you ride it.>

Verity’s good mood was quickly evaporating, and Alfric wished that Hannah were there. Hannah understood how to handle things like this, bad moods and criticism that wasn’t meant to be taken personally. Verity wasn’t actually in a bad mood yet, but she’d liked her little crater, and her weird animals, and she was losing that buoyancy.

<We need to investigate more,> said Alfric. <We’re also going to have to find a way to take them out of here. That will be our major challenge here.>

<How are we going to do that?> asked Isra. <I’m not sure we can.>

<They can’t go up to the dungeon entrance?> asked Alfric. <You can’t guide them?>

<They’re not climbers,> said Isra. <They’re built for flat land or gentle slopes, not something like the path we came down.> She rubbed her chin. <I think we’re going to have to use Lutopia.>

<Ugh,> said Alfric. <It’s full of things.>

<We can’t use the garden stone,> said Isra. <It’s hard enough to get heavy things in there when they’re not alive.>

<Then we clear out Lutopia One,> said Alfric. <Or at least well enough so that we can fit more of these animals into it without having them destroy the shelves of things.>

<There’s a problem with that idea,> said Isra. <These are prey animals. I’m telling this one that we’re friends, that we mean no harm, but it’s taking effort on my part, and as soon as I stop, it’s going to spook, to bolt.>

<How many can you do at once?> asked Pinion.

<Two, maybe,> said Isra.

<A breeding pair,> said Alfric. <Not ideal.>

<We’re not going to get a breeding pair,> said Isra with a laugh.

Verity frowned at her. <Something else wrong with them?>

<They’re all female,> said Isra.

<Oh,> said Verity. She had a sheepish look. <Whoops.>

<That’s a problem that we can find a solution for,> said Alfric. <There’s entad support. Of course, not knowing what the male version of this creature is might be a bit of an issue, but as a first attempt at a riding animal … we need to see how the riding goes, but it should be worth taking them out either way.>

<I’m going to ride it now,> said Verity. She was looking at the creature’s side as though a stepstool might appear.

<No,> said Alfric. <Absolutely not.>

<Alfric,> said Verity, pleading. <Come on, it’s begging to be ridden.>

<It isn’t,> said Isra. <Just in case you were actually thinking that it was.>

<I rode birds when I was young,> said Alfric. <Even well-trained birds are difficult, and it becomes exponentially more difficult without a saddle. The saddle distributes your weight, it means that you have more control, it means that you aren’t going to slip off as easily, it gives you something to grab onto — I really could go on for quite some time, and that’s without even considering that this animal isn’t trained to carry riders, and that no one knows how to ride one. We’re without a healer now. If you get injured badly enough, you could die.>

<Ah,> said Verity. <But have you considered that I really want to ride the animal?>

<I had not considered that, no,> said Alfric. <Alright, executive decision, get on the animal.>

<Really?> asked Verity.

<No,> said Alfric.

<Boo,> said Verity. <But also, can I just say, it’s very possible the animal has been trained. We don’t know its made up life. In fact, we might be able to find a saddle somewhere around here.>

<This is true,> said Pinion. <But I don’t think you should ride it.>

<No one thinks that you should ride it but you,> said Alfric.

<I’ve been convinced,> said Verity with a sigh. <But I still want to.>

<Can I release the animal?> asked Isra.

<Yes, release away, we’ll put them into storage as the last thing,> said Alfric. <Once we get out, we’re going to have to find a field with a very tall fence to hold them. It’s good there’s not a breeding pair, that makes it less troublesome in case one escapes. There’s still more of the dungeon for us to see. And it is possible that we’ll find a saddle, or an instruction manual, or something like that, if that’s something you were trying for.>

<Why a riding animal?> asked Isra. <Why not something smaller?> The creature turned away from them, not quite spooked but very clearly uncomfortable, and it ran with shocking speed across the plains to rejoin the others, who were still grazing.

<Er,> said Verity. <Here’s where I have to confess that what I was actually trying to do was everything all at once. I was going to call it the ‘anymal’, a creature that could be ridden swiftly, produce textiles, be milked, lay eggs, all kinds of things. But what we got was this beauty instead.> She looked to Isra. <Unless you think that it could do any of those things?>

<No,> said Isra. <No eggs, but milk, yes, and we could eat it for its meat. The hide as well, I think. The only thing it really is, is fast.>

<It’ll take some time until we have a breeding population, assuming that we can get them out of here,> said Alfric. <But if they can be safely ridden by a grown person, they’ll be incredibly valuable. There are many people who want to recapture their youth and ride birds.>

<Can we stop for a moment to say how terrible ‘anymal’ is?> asked Pinion. <I think when someone hears something like that, they need to take a stand against it.>

<I thought it would have been cute,> said Verity. She was pouting a bit. <I was thinking of something big and fluffy, like this thing, just less sleek. Anymal is a cute name, for a cute creature.>

<We should get moving toward the woods,> said Alfric. He was aiming to move them around the left edge of the lake. <I’d like to see where that smoke is coming from.> He pulled the piece of wizard’s glass from where it was protected in his inner pocket and held it up to his eye. It was a costly bit of equipment, a temporary and finicky solution to the problem of Mizuki not being there, but it did mean that they were less likely to miss anything. <You were trying for what we talked about?>

<Storage entads,> said Verity. <Which would mean that the solution to the animal transport problem might be here, yes.>

<The animals will need a name,> said Pinion. <Unless we plan to keep calling them ‘the animals’ or ‘those creatures’.>

<We’ll discuss it as we walk,> said Alfric. He was looking at the forest, which was some distance away from them, at least ten minutes of walking through the field.

They set off, grass corkscrewing beneath their feet then bouncing back once they’d passed. Alfric enjoyed it enough that he was considering taking some out just to live in a little pot. He thought that Mizuki would enjoy it. But this, again, was a matter of protocol, a thing not to be done without quite a bit of caution. Any unique plant pulled from a dungeon — a clandle — was supposed to be carefully enclosed and then twice as carefully studied until its interactions with its environment were known. A number of ecological crises had happened because of plants that had been brought out with the best of intentions, some of which were still ongoing issues. Druids could handle that kind of thing, but it came at great expense, since finding every seed or rhizome was often difficult work.

But he thought that Mizuki would like it, and there weren’t many decorative plants around the house. Besides, they did have a druid. He would ask Isra later, perhaps after they were trying to see what they could take from the dungeon.

<Call them one-toes,> said Isra. <It’s the weirdest thing about them. The whole leg is basically a single toe.>

<That’s a terrible name,> said Verity. <Maybe my father is starting to rub off on me, but we want something marketable, something that will make people want to buy them, or provoke envy in those that don’t have one.>

<I would buy a one-toe,> said Isra.

<If they can be ridden,> said Alfric. <That remains to be seen. And depending on their breeding cycles, it might be quite some time before we can actually sell them.> He had contacted a local bastlekeeper before they’d gone into the dungeon, just in case, but he wasn’t sure that the man would be able to take on thirty-some large creatures like this.

<It’s still good to think about,> said Verity. <I don’t want to get stuck with a name that everyone hates.>

<Probably best not to name them after their one toe though, sorry Isra,> said Pinion.

<People name animals after their features all the time,> said Isra. <It’s actually quite annoying. Everything is ‘red-breasted’ this or ‘blue-footed’ that or ‘frilled-crest’ something or other.>

<All the classic animals have short names, punchy names,> said Verity. <Cat, dog.>

<These are ‘classics’?> asked Isra.

<Very much so, yes,> replied Verity. <There are certain animals that have been around forever. We want something that gives the sense of that, of not being a dangerous animal pulled from a dungeon that might kill you when you ride it or die when you look at one of its legs wrong.>

<Horse,> said Pinion.

Verity gave him a look. <The horse is a mythical animal.>

<I haven’t heard that myth,> said Isra.

<It’s not really a myth in that sense,> said Alfric. <At least, I don’t think so. It’s a creature that shows up in myths and very old stories, a feathered four-limbed creature.>

<Six-limbed, in some versions,> said Verity. <And sometimes without feathers. Some of the drawings of them make it clear that none of the artists had actually seen one.>

<And it’s a dungeon creature,> said Alfric. <Almost certainly. Perhaps not one of a kind, but they’re supposed to be like Emperor.>

<Your dog?> asked Pinion.

<In the sense that he’s a bigger, stronger, more intelligent dog,> said Alfric. <Something like Emperor gets pulled from a dungeon every now and again, and if it’s breedable, it always means that the world has become a better place for people. Chickens are a famous example. There’s so much meat on them, they grow so quickly, they lay what feels like limitless eggs without the need to do anything special, they’re dumb as rocks — but they’re already a superior version of what came before, so I wouldn’t expect to have something better, at least not easily.>

<I’m just starting out,> said Verity. <A superior chicken seems well within the realm of possibility.>

<I suppose if we name it after the mythical horse, we’re backing ourselves into a corner, aren’t we?> asked Pinion. <Because the next dungeon might have something even better.>

<It’s still good marketing, I think,> said Verity. <An animal of myth, come to life? There’s something compelling there. As my father tells it, trying to sell things to people is a form of storytelling. He thinks that I’d have some skill with it.>

They reached the edge of the forest, and to Alfric’s delight, the trees behaved somewhat like the grass, reacting to their presence. Rather than curling up, the leaves seemed to expand, giving more canopy cover, as though worried that anything below would be a threat if given light. It meant that they were walking in shade among the trees, though a shade which didn’t extend out too far from where they were walking.

They were still walking in the direction of the smoke, and Alfric’s stomach was tightening. Verity was trying very hard not to make people, but her control over the dungeons was patchy at best. Minimal control was a far sight better than anything that any group of dungeoneers had ever had before, but the variability made the dungeons more fraught in some respects, as shown by prior dungeons being so incredibly difficult relative to their elevation.

The smoke was coming from a small clearing in the woods, a place where rocky ground had meant that no trees could find purchase. On a flat slab of rock, a small camp had been pitched.

The woman emerged from the tent when they were close enough to smell the fire, and Alfric’s hand immediately went to his sword, almost by instinct.

The woman didn’t look at them with the scowl and bared teeth of a dungeon-made humanoid though, she greeted them with a wave and a smile.