Grand Game 207: The Old Gnome’s Gift (Patreon)

The first thing I noticed was that the notes on the saltmarsh dungeon were untitled. It appeared that the dungeon had no name, at least none known to the gnomes.

I didn’t let that daunt me, though, and began reading.

Little is known about the dungeon in the saltmarsh. Even its name has been lost over time. But despite this, rumors of the dungeon persist to this day. Some of these tales have no doubt sprung from ancient texts on the subject. Many older historical accounts make reference to the saltmarsh dungeon, all without actually naming it.

And while some scholars may point out that old tales and gossip hardly constitute proof, they lend weight to the theory that the saltmarsh dungeon truly exists—or did exist.

According to the oldest texts on the subject, each saltmarsh dungeon sector is larger than the minotaur maze, and there are many more such sectors than even in the coral palace. The authors who penned those descriptions undoubtedly stretched the truth. But even accounting for their exaggeration, it seems clear the dungeon must be huge.

As for the inhabitants? Information on them is even more scarce. One word, though, is used repeatedly in reference to the dungeon: ‘pestilence.’ From this, it can be postulated the dungeon favors diseased creatures, contains multiple contagions, and is replete with infections.

Of course, given its location, some treatises have drawn parallels with the dungeon and the plague quarter. A few have even gone so far as to suggest it is the dungeon itself that is the source of the saltmarsh’s contamination. This, of course, is an impossibility. The wards on a dungeon’s entrance portals are strong enough to hold back the nether, and there is no way any mere disease could spill through.

Lastly, we broach the question that most preoccupies adventurers: where to find the dungeon. Sadly, the ancient texts are of little help. They are all emphatic that the dungeon lies somewhere in the saltmarsh but are vague as to its precise coordinates.

In fact, the only clue to the dungeon portal’s location is a cryptic excerpt from an ancient treatise on a feud between two warring houses. It had this to say: ‘to find pestilence, search beneath pestilence.’

As you can imagine, this obscure piece of advice has led many adventurers to plumb the depths of the saltmarsh in hopes of finding the lost dungeon. But despite numerous expeditions over the centuries, all such ventures have turned up empty, and these days most scholars dismiss the text as no more than a fanciful turn of phrase.

In conclusion, the only advice we may offer you is the obvious: if you intend on seeking the lost saltmarsh dungeon, make certain to stock up on disease protection enchantments and be prepared for a long and potentially fruitless search.

“That’s it?” Unbidden, a growl of disgust escaped me. Beware of disease and failure? That was all the gnomes could offer me?

The information on the saltmarsh dungeon was sketchy—at best. The first three parchments had contained hard details, but to even label the saltmarsh dungeon notes as speculation was being generous!

With a sigh, I let the document fall from my fingers. Bracing my elbows against the table, I leaned over and rubbed my temples. If I was being honest, I was less unhappy about the information than how unready I appeared to be. I had hoped to enter one of the four dungeons soon. But if nothing else, the gnome’s notes made clear that would be foolish.

The guardian tower left no room for retreat.

The minotaur maze seemed to favor brute strength—not my forte.

The coral palace would nullify my advantages in speed.

As for the saltmarsh dungeon… it seemed highly improbable that I would even be able to find the bloody thing!

Of course, I could still plunge ahead and attempt one of the dungeons, but the odds of me actually succeeding were low. So what do I do now? I wondered. I wasn’t sure.

Perhaps it is time to leave Nexus.

Picking up the documents, I sifted through them while I  toyed with the notion. I could always return later—when things settled down. And truthfully, I could acquire a third Class anywhere.

But it would not be a great Class.

And while taking on any old Class seemed the safer option right now, it would leave me vulnerable in the long run. My Classes might never meld. Or worse, I could find myself lacking the skills and abilities necessary to keep leveling and end up with my player growth capped.

That would spell disaster.

Sooner or later, my bloodline would be exposed, and when that happened, I couldn’t be weak. Or seen to be weak.

And would matters be any better elsewhere? The mantises would surely follow me wherever I went. No, leaving is not a good option.

A tiny slip of paper fell out of the stack of documents.

I studied it curiously. It had been stuck to the back of the saltmarsh dungeon notes and was a scribbled message penned by Cyren himself. Picking it up, I began to read.

P.S. There is one other rumor about the saltmarsh dungeon that bears consideration. Most scholars dismiss it as mere fancy, but I thought it might pique your interest.

Sometimes, when the saltmarsh dungeon is brought up in the recent histories—those chronicling the rise of the new Powers—mention is also made of an ‘ancient adversary.’

The relationship between adversary and dungeon is unclear, though. Some texts imply the dungeon is the adversary’s prison; others, their refuge. Who or what the adversary is, is also never described. Details on he/she/it are scantier than on the dungeon itself.

Perhaps, this will help you on your quest. —Cyren.

“An ancient adversary?” I murmured. It wasn’t much to go on. Ancient could just mean old. Though I doubted that. Cyren obviously thought it significant enough to be worth mentioning.

Most likely, it was a reference to an old Power.

Or one of their envoys.

I stared at the scribbled words, my thoughts far away. Was this the clue I’d been searching for? Was Ceruvax hiding in the saltmarsh dungeon?

Who else can it be? I wondered. It must be him.

Your task: Find the last Wolf Envoy has been updated. You have received unverified information that Ceruvax is the one trapped in the saltmarsh dungeon. Your objective remains unchanged: find the envoy to learn more about the way of the wolf.

Setting down the note, I sat back in my chair and sipped at my drink. So, now I have the Wolf envoy’s location.

But it didn’t change anything.

I still had no idea where the dungeon entrance was, and I didn’t have the time, not to mention the equipment, to search the saltmarsh for days on end.

The question remained: what now?

~~~

By the time I finished my drink, I had the makings of a plan.

My initial assessment had not changed. I wasn’t ready for any of the four dungeons, but that did not leave me without plenty to do.

I still had my room in the knight’s castle for two more nights. Even if my nemeses or their replacements resumed hunting me sooner than expected, with a secure base and enough enchantments to protect me, I was not unduly worried about being able to stay out of the mantises’ clutches—for the next couple of days at least.

I had to use that time to prepare for my dungeon crawl. I needed money and training. Lots of both.

Packing away the parchments, I rose to my feet. If I was going to enter one of the four dungeons in two days, I couldn’t afford to waste even an hour. I had to begin now.

Exiting the tavern, I glanced up. There were still a few hours left in the day. Train today, finish my bounties tomorrow, I decided. With my course set, I headed south—back to the scorching dunes dungeon.

~~~

The scorching dunes dungeon was welcomingly familiar. It was just as I’d left it, with hordes of players outside and inside.

Surprisingly, Genmark’s party was still in the dungeon, and more surprisingly, they welcomed me back with open arms despite my tardiness. I was just as glad to see them, and without hesitation, I threw myself into the role of party tank.

The next few hours passed by quickly. Forgetting the future and whatever it held, I focused solely on the rather simple task of slaying the desert denizens. Like it had the first day, my skills ticked upwards nicely, even if I gained little in the way of experience.

Your dodging has increased to level 77. Your shortswords has increased to level 83. Your light armor has increased to level 68.

Your meditation has increased to level 86. Your insight has increased to level 88. Your deception has increased to level 83.

It was again close to midnight when Genmark finally led the party out of the dungeon. Whatever else they might be, the gnome’s team was committed to their own progression, and I found myself admiring their tenacity.

“So, can I count on you to show up tomorrow?” Genmark asked, glaring at me in mock anger as the group gathered outside the dungeon to divide the day’s spoils.

I frowned while I considered the day ahead. I had lots to do, but I also knew I couldn’t ignore my skills training. I will have to squeeze it in, I decided. “Perhaps,” I allowed. “But I can’t promise anything. It depends on whether—”

Genmark chuckled and held up his hand. “Don’t worry, I’m only teasing. But if you do decide to join us, we’ll be here.” Not saying further, the gnome dropped a small pouch in my hand.

You have acquired 40 gold.

I looked at him in surprise. “What’s this?”

“Your cut from today,” Genmark said, “and the rest of what I owed you from yesterday. The reagents sold for more than I expected.”

“Thank you,” I murmured with a smile. Given how late I’d joined the party today, I hadn’t been expecting a share of the loot, and it spoke well of the gnome’s integrity that he saw I was compensated anyway.

Attempting one of the four dungeons will be easier with a few companions by my side, I thought suddenly. I scrutinized Genmark more closely. Could I trust the gnome that far?

Perhaps. Let’s see how tomorrow goes first.

With a final farewell to the group, I turned about and headed towards the citadel and a night of well-deserved rest.