Dungeon Runner
The Tiger Writes
sciencefiction
sciencefiction
31K5
Tibs survived by picking pockets; until he's caught.
Instead of losing a hand, he's sent away and told he must now survive a dungeon.
How is a kid who knew nothing more than his ...Bottom Rung, Chapter 15
"Did you hear?" someone yelled as they entered the mess hall. "A team made it out of the dungeon without losing anyone!"
The silence that had begun to fall over the quarter of the tables occupied broke. Not a piece of news that was that surprising to Tibs. Everyone was getting more powerful. And almost everyone had an element, based on the color of their eyes, so it was bound to happen at some point.
The announcer looked around, she was a woman, her clothing in better condition than most. More and more of the rogues knew about the secret cubby, so the quality of the clothing the surviving runners wore had gone up. Some even wore magical shirts or pants, providing a little more armor.
She frowned as the conversation went back to full force. "They got to keep almost all the loot they found!"
The tent fell silent, everyone looking at her. She nodded and conversations exploded, filled with new energy. Now they all knew what the incentive to keep other party members alive was. Tibs also realized it would affect how teams formed. Encourage people to create theirs, instead of letting them be randomly assigned by the adventurers. If the goal was for everyone to survive, they'd want the right mix of ability and experience.
People looked each other over in the tent. They look right over Tibs. But now it might no longer be because of his short size, but because of his eyes. Those who had their element had no interest in saddling themselves with someone without theirs. Close to two dozen of the occupants had normal eyes.
Tibs wished he could tell those ignoring him they were wrong. His eyes weren't indicative of a lack of element, but even those who'd seen him train, no, especially those, ignored him. He'd trained alone, since Alistair had been busy with guild work, and tried to do more than summon a little water before he was out of breath. Even his ice balls were more pebbles, and throwing one left him panting hard.
Because he didn't get tired if he kept the water in contact with him, the last thing he'd done under Alistair's watchful eyes was spread it over his hand and then his arm, coating it in a thin film. Tibs hadn't thought much of it, but Alistair smiled.
"This will help ensure you survive to do more."
He looked around. Surviving as everyone ignored him wasn't fun. The humor hit him as someone called his name. He'd spent his time on the street doing everything he could to be ignored, and now he was unhappy about it.
"Tibs Light Fingers!" the adventurer called, adding the extra part this time.
Tibs groaned and stood. Had Bardik told everyone about it?
"You Tibs?" he asked as he approached. He nodded. "Grab your gear, you have a team waiting for you to enter a dungeon."
Tibs ran out. He had a team, he wasn't giving them a chance to change their mind, and it wasn't like he had gear to collect.
* * * * *
Tibs stopped as the adventurer who handed him the shirt and knife indicated a group of four. Tibs had expected at least one of them to be someone he knew. It had been how it happened the previous times. Did it mean none of his last team had survived?
He watched those strangers as he approached, putting on the shirt. A woman, a fighter by the sword she held, noticed him and her bright red eyes widened. "Oh, they can't be serious!" She looked over him. "What's the big idea saddling us with a kid! And one without an element!"
"Stow the attitude," the man next to her said. Another fighter, shorter than her but more muscular. "Are you Tibs?" he asked, ignoring her glare. His eyes were the reddish-brown of those who had earth as their element.