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 52
"I think we're far enough," Mez said, looking back the way they came. They were halfway to the trap room. "They shouldn't be able to hear us."
"Is it necessary to do this here?" Khumdar asked as Carina took the papers out from inside her robes. "You have done the first floor multiple times, and it is aimed at Omegas."
"I want to make sure nothing's changed," Jackal said. "It would be just like the dungeon to change everything on us."
Tibs watched Jackal look over the charcoal map, but he was listening. The hissing had always happened in response to something one of them did or said. He wasn't entirely certain he'd heard the voices anymore. It had been over a month now, and Carina's explanation that he'd been dying and his essence was trying to save him had made more and more sense. But the hissing had been around long before that, so he was alert for the next time it sounded.
"Everything is the same," Carina said, pointing to writing. "You looked it over in the room."
"It's not all the same." Jackal indicated the marks. "Tibs said those aren't where the triggers were the last time. Right Tibs?"
"Yes," he answered, distracted by his vigil. "But the dungeon always changed them now. So that's normal."
"There's more rats in the boulder and warren room," Jackal said.
"I'm starting to think this exchanging information wasn't a good idea," Mez commented.
Tandy had given Tibs three pages a few days after the first free-for-all, so they could draw their maps, and then Pyan's team would add what they'd encountered. Jackal had wanted Tibs to get them paper, but Tibs wouldn't steal from the merchants. Wealthy or not, they were part of his town. If he found paper in one of the noble's houses, he'd take some, but as yet, he hadn't. For as many coins as they had, paper was valuable enough they didn't leave it lying around where any passing Rogue could get it.
Pyan's team had gone in a second time only a few days ago, having landed before Tibs's in the random assignment of those who hadn't given coins to determine where they were in the order. Harry had been there when the list went up, and he had glared at Jackal as if the man knew it was his idea, but he hadn't ordered anyone to the cells or grabbed Jackal to have a private talk.
Jackal had been sufficiently smug Tibs was sure the guard leader had talked with his team leader at some point, but they'd gotten away with that part of the quiet thumbing of their noses at what the guild wanted.
"Jackal, it doesn't matter how many rats there are," Carina said. "We can deal with them easily." Tibs disagreed with her. It mattered. But she was right. "Let's clear this floor and then we can go over the information."
"Alright."
She put the papers away.
Squaring his shoulders, Jackal led them to the trap room, where, as he'd predicted, the triggers had been changed again, but Tibs easily found them and led the way. Jackal moved slower and with a thoughtful expression. He just smiled when Tibs raised an eyebrow.
To his disappointment, the cache produced a set of archer's gloves, which Mez put on. Tibs thought he was owed at least his shoes back since they'd been destroyed in the dungeon, but he'd been the one to walk into the fire, so he didn't grumble too loudly.
The boulder and warren rooms were simple, even if both had more creatures. Tibs knew where the creatures were, even if he couldn't see them. They had his essence in them. Much less than people, or even the animals in the town, but enough for him to not be surprised once by the rat in the boulder room.
In the warren room, even knowing where the rabbits were, he only hit one out of the five throws of his imbued knives, and he figured it had been a lucky shot. On the practice range, he couldn't hit a stationary target once out of ten throws. He wasn't sure if throwing things would be something he got good at, but he enjoyed not having to get close to what he wanted to hit.