Dungeon Life
Chapter Three-Hundred Seventy-Two

The trio easily enter the Forest of Four Seasons after a quick inspection of the cemetery. With the wolf spawner moved out, the whole place is a lot more peaceful, and so simpler for them to inspect. The three greet Grim, who waves as he mows, and then they’re into the Forest.

Goldilocks doesn’t bother starting slow with them, and the denizens get to have some fun with the inspectors. Berdol’s progress is showing as he fights alongside Tarl and Olander, with the catkin’s signature blades picking off denizens at a distance while Tarl flits around, stabbing as he pleases. Olander is the bastion of the group, ensuring nothing gets close enough to Berdol to be a threat. It’s a nice warm up for the two more experienced inspectors, but Berdol is breathing heavily by the end.

That doesn’t mean he’s unhappy with the fight. He scribbles notes while they have some down time, and Teemo strikes up a conversation as Olander and Tarl examine my nodes and other points of interest on the forest floor.

“Boss is looking to have the floor more or less be an introduction to the forest as a whole. The different seasons have their own challenges. Spring is probably going to be the easiest, with winter the hardest, but the overall difficult should be about the same all across the floor.”

“I like the dreamblooms,” comments Olander, prodding one of them from outside the reach of its pollen, thanks to the reach of his glaive. “They’re always easy for delvers to underestimate, and they make a nice relaxing tea, too.”

Tarl shrugs as he examines one at a bit more distance. “I always liked the invigorating teas more, though that might be because that’s all Telar drinks. I’m not going to try to take control of the teapot from her.”

Berdol chuckles at the idea. “Definitely for the best. I once tried to talk to her about cold teas, and she looked at me like I said I had poured my inkwell over the last set of official inspections.”

Olander sticks out his tongue in mock disgust. “Ugh, cold tea? Why not just drink from a puddle?”

Berdol shrugs, not rising to the jesting barb. “It’s refreshing and invigorating. I don’t want a hot drink on a hot day.”

Tarl nods at that, and the talk dies down as they finish their first pass of examinations. “The floor is strong, but not overwhelming for most groups. There’s still a bit of a gap between the manor and the forest floor, but I’m not worried. You tend to adjust your encounters to fit the groups. If you can keep that up, it should be a pretty smooth advancement.”

“Goldilocks is settling into keeping things running smoothly here, yeah. The manor is established enough that the denizens don’t need guidance, but things can get a bit more hectic here, which she makes sure doesn’t get out of hand.”

“How’re the new spawns adjusting, and the new scions?” asks Tarl.

“They’re doing well. The bees are pretty established with their niches now, and the fey are focusing more on the invaders than the delvers. Boss isn’t restricting them… mostly. He’s a bit worried about the sprigs, but they seem to like dealing with the beetles more than delvers.”

Olander nods at that. “I’ve fought sprigs before. Their ambushes can be nasty when combined with their draining. They’re good for teaching spatial awareness, at least. They don’t take a hit very well, so all you really need to do to counter them is to spot them.”

“Which is the hard part,” adds Tarl with a smirk. “I wouldn’t be too worried about encouraging them to go after delvers. The wyrms in the labyrinth also encourage keeping your eyes open, and I think are more fun to fight.”

“Yeah, that’s what it looks like to the Boss, too. He’d have thought delvers would be intimidated by the magma wyrms just bursting from the walls, but delvers really seem to like them. They’ve been mostly avoiding the sprigs, at least when they notice them.”

Olander shrugs. “Either way, it works out. Wyrms are worth a lot more experience, too. Maybe that’s why delvers like them more. Sure, they’re more of a fight, but you don’t go into this profession if you’re not willing to fight.”

He’s not wrong there. I also think the delvers just find the sprigs to be kinda creepy. They move weirdly, where the wyrms move like they should. Either way, I’m not bothered by letting the sprigs mostly deal with invaders. I have a lot of other denizens for playing with delvers.

“So, did you guys have any preference for your miniboss?” asks Teemo, earning considering looks from the others.

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“If they don’t have a preference, I’d like to raid one of the armory bee forts. I think I’d do pretty well against them,” suggests Berdol.

“That’s fine by me,” replies Olander. “A small group like ours would usually be at a disadvantage against them, but between your metal affinity, Tarl’s stealth, and me, we shouldn’t have too much trouble.”

Tarl doesn’t have any objections either, so they wander around a bit to find a fort that strikes their fancy. They stay out of winter, not wanting to have to deal with the cold or potentially getting harried by the winter wolves, and stay out of summer to avoid the heat. They might be strong, but that doesn’t mean they have to just accept fighting in uncomfortable conditions. At least not yet. I’m sure Olander will be by later to to a more in-depth inspection of all the seasons, but for now, they settle on tackling one in fall.

The willow vine up is easy to climb, and climbing it is a pretty simple affair. The denizens aren’t allowed to attack a delver on a vine, unless they attack first. A few delvers have tried to use the vines as a safe base, like a safe spot in a game of tag. But just like with a game of tag, the denizens aren’t obliged to leave. Any delver trying to seek respite by claiming the sanctuary of a vine will discover themselves between a rock and a hard place. Each vine leads to a miniboss, after all. They can either climb up and test their luck, or release the vine and deal with whatever chased them there in the first place.

It’s been working pretty well. Not that the inspectors need to resort to anything like that. Up the vine, they have a small clear spot on the lowest branch to gather themselves before they need to deal with the armory fort.

Fort might be a strong word, but it gets the point across. It’s fortified, it’s strong, and the defenders definitely have the advantage. Living brambles with metal thorns act like walls, with the armory bees manning their posts to ensure they don’t get taken by surprise. Tarl on his own probably would have quietly snuck past, but Olander doesn’t need to, and Berdol wants to test himself against the bees anyway. The glaive-wielding elf strides toward the fortifications, all compound eyes on him as he challenges the fort.

“Get out here and fight, or I’m coming in!” Against other delvers, the bees would probably ignore the bluff and prepare their ranged attacks. But I know it’s no bluff, so they know, too. They prepare their formations as his glaive starts cleaving through the brambles, claiming the first denizens of the fort and starting the fight!

It’s still a wonder to actually watch Olander fight, especially when he lets loose. He’s not going all out, but he can’t rest on his laurels with this many armory bees angrily buzzing around. Tarl does his best to remain beneath notice, slipping in slashes of wind and shadow as he can.

Berdol, on the other hand, isn’t doing too much, at least at first. He doesn’t even have his floating blades out right now. Instead, his eyes are focused somewhere beyond the melee, his affinity hunting for something. At first, I think he must want the metal weapons of the armory bees, but once I feel what he’s really after, I’m even more impressed with his ingenuity.

I never really put too much thought into what the armory honey was. It looks like metal, but I didn’t think it actually counted. As I watch the large open comb splash around like a stormy sea, I can only guess that it counts as metal enough for Berdol’s purpose. Two fist-sized blobs float out of the comb, slow and unsteady as he gets a feel for how to actually manipulate the armory honey.

Olander and Tarl are happy to give him the time he needs to get a feel for it and join in the fight. He keeps things simple, probably not wanting to lose control over the honey and just splash it on whatever. It doesn’t work on living things, my brambles excluded, but that’s still two heavy metal fists flying around. It doesn’t even need to be hard for the mass to be able to do some damage to the armory bees. Crunches soon join the sounds of the slices as the bees try to figure out a counter to Berdol’s new playthings. Armor is pretty good against sharp things, but heavy blunt attacks are a great way around it.

My denizens don’t come up with a solution before the fort is emptied, and the three pant from the effort of their victory, though some more than others. Berdol is definitely tired after all that, not only for the effort in claiming some of the armory honey, but in using it to fight off such strong denizens. Tarl is a little winded, but looking like he could go another round or two. Olander is breathing deep and steady, looking like he’s properly warmed up and breathing heavily more in excitement than effort.

“Ah, the armory honey! I always wondered if metal affinities could do anything interesting with it,” he says with a wide smile as he looks over the two orbs now floating by Berdol.

“Hah…me too,” replies Berdol, too exhausted to preen properly.

“Boss says you can do a lot of stuff with something like that. Are you able to shape it?” asks Teemo as I eagerly watch.

Berdol nods as the orbs elongate, like someone pulling on soft clay. “I can’t do too much, hah, with it yet… but yeah, I can.” He pulls out a waterskin and takes a long pull from it before continuing. “I’ve been reading a lot of denizen information, and there’s a couple different ones that make their own kind of liquid metal. Ever since I heard Thedeim got armory bees, I’ve been wanting to try to get some. It’s… a lot harder to manipulate than I was expecting. But I have a way to keep it, at least.”

He takes another long drink of water before he pops the cap off and pours out the rest, then squeezes the armory honey inside. The waterskin turns to metal under the effects of the honey, but the tabby catkin smiles as he shakes it, letting everyone hear it sloshing around.

“And now I have plenty to practice with. I’ll have to replenish it as it transmutes things, but I’m looking forward to learning how to handle it. I always did like how water affinity people wielded their element. Hopefully I can do the same.”