"Dangerous?!" I blurted. "Define dangerous, please."
Hamish crossed his arms, gripping his trusty shovel as if it were a lifeline. "Yeah, uh, tell me more about dangerous," he said, his voice laced with suspicion.
Moira's voice was calm and reassuring in my mind. "Don't worry, Robert. You'll be fine. Just take it slowly and get used to what you encounter. Now go on in!"
I shot Hamish a look and shrugged. "Come on, Hamish. If you want to keep protecting me from village psychos, we need to start in here."
He peered at me with narrowed eyes, his skepticism evident. "You want me to walk into... into that?" He pointed his shovel toward the swirling portal as though it might bite him.
I nodded and stepped through without hesitation, waving to him from the other side. The portal's surface shimmered as I passed, its invisible energy vibrating against my skin. Hamish hesitated, muttering something about fools and their grand ideas, then pinched his nose as if jumping into water and leapt through after me.
When he landed beside me, the portal sealed itself behind us, leaving only the static charge lingering in the air. Hamish rubbed his arms, glancing around uneasily. "We're sure about this? This portal nonsense?"
"We're here now, aren't we?" I said, unable to hide my excitement. "Just look around. This is something no one's ever seen before!"
The cavern stretched vast and shadowed, its walls glowing faintly with veins of blue crystals that spiraled like frozen rivers of light. Each crystal seemed to hum softly, resonating with a frequency just below hearing. Stalactites hung from above, their tips dripping in a slow, rhythmic cadence. The air carried not just the scent of ancient stone and earth but something electric, as if the very atmosphere buzzed with latent power.
"These veins," I said, running my hand along one of the glowing streams of crystal. "They're like the lifeblood of this place. Do you feel that? It's alive."
Hamish shot me a wary glance. "If it's alive, maybe we shouldn't be pokin' at it," he muttered, his grip tightening on his shovel. Despite his words, he couldn't help but let his eyes wander to the intricate crystal patterns that traced the walls. He hesitated, then added, "And what's with these markings? Looks like someone's carved symbols into the rock."
I crouched near one of the etchings, tracing it with my gloved fingers. The lines were rough but deliberate, spiraling outward in a design that seemed almost Celtic, though distorted. "These aren't just decorations," I murmured. "They're runes, some kind of binding or protective magic. Maybe both."
Hamish gripped his shovel tighter, shaking his head. "Robbie, this is madness. Madness."
"Madness? No. History," I replied, running my hand along one of the glowing veins. The crystal pulsed faintly beneath my fingers, warm and alive. "It feels like... it's breathing."
Moira's voice chimed in warmly, her admiration clear. "Lovely, isn't it? A dungeon brimming with ancient magic. But don't let its beauty distract you. Danger often hides behind wonder."
I nodded, a shiver running down my spine. "Noted."
The faint chittering began softly, almost like the rustling of leaves, but it grew louder with each passing second. It echoed from deeper within the chamber, bouncing off the cavern walls and distorting into an eerie, metallic hiss. My stomach tightened.
Hamish froze mid-step, his shovel raised slightly, ready for anything. "Ye heard that too, right? Tell me that wasn't just in my head," he muttered.
"It's not just you," I whispered, my eyes scanning the dim light for movement. The glow of the crystals made it hard to pinpoint anything in the shadows. Then I saw it, a series of small scratches along the ground, fresh claw marks trailing into the darkness. "We're not alone."
Hamish's grip on his shovel tightened. "Aye. And I don't like it."
From the shadows, kobolds emerged, their wiry frames illuminated by the crystals' faint glow. Their yellowed eyes gleamed with predatory hunger, and their sharp claws scraped against the stone in a maddening rhythm. They moved with chaotic energy, hissing and clicking to each other in rapid bursts. It wasn't coordination, it was wild, clever savagery, a frenzied swarm of disorganized chaos that still managed to overwhelm through sheer unpredictability. Each kobold carried crude weapons, jagged spears and rusted blades, held with a primal readiness that made them seem feral and cunning all at once.
"Stay close, Hamish," I said, keeping my voice steady as I summoned my magic. "These things aren't here to welcome us."
The kobolds charged, their movements erratic and dangerous, each strike aimed with brutal intent. I reacted instinctively, summoning a thorn spell in my palm. The mana pulsed through my fingers, sharper and more refined than before. I hurled the thorn at the nearest kobold, and it struck true, embedding in its chest with a sickening crunch. The creature screeched and collapsed, its blood spraying in an arc before it stilled.
Hamish swung his shovel with raw force, the blade colliding with the chin of another kobold. The impact sent the creature's head snapping back, its body crumpling to the ground. Another lunged at him with its jagged spear, but Hamish twisted and deflected the blow, driving his shovel's edge into the kobold's gut. The creature let out a guttural cry before collapsing in a heap.
The kobolds kept coming, a relentless wave of claws and teeth. They snarled and shrieked as they lunged, their wild attacks making it impossible to predict their next move. I fired another thorn, slicing through the knee of an approaching kobold. It howled, clawing at the ground as it tried to drag itself forward. Hamish stepped in, raising his shovel high and bringing it down with a sickening thud. The kobold fell silent.
"Moira, I'm running low here," I muttered, feeling the strain of my depleting mana.
Her voice was calm but firm. "Then stop wasting it, love. Cripple them first. Let your delightful friend finish the job."
Taking her advice, I aimed for weak points, knees, ankles, elbows. The agony these stone thorns inflicted made them easy targets for Hamish to finish off. The kobolds stumbled and fell, their shrieks echoing through the cavern as Hamish moved through them like a storm. Each swing of his shovel left shattered bones and blood in his wake, his strength and determination an unyielding force against the chaotic assault.
When the last kobold fell, silence returned to the chamber. I leaned against a boulder, my breaths ragged. Beside me, Hamish slumped to the ground, his shovel resting across his lap.
"Ye call this history, Robbie?" Hamish said, his voice dripping with exasperation. "I call it madness."
I let out a weak laugh. "Where's your sense of adventure?"
"Back at camp, where it's warm and safe," he grumbled.
I chuckled but was soon distracted by the faint glow emanating from deeper within the cavern. My attention sharpened. "We're not done yet."
Hamish groaned. "Of course we're not."
I closed my eyes, focusing on my breathing as mana trickled back into me. The warmth spread through my limbs, dulling the ache of exhaustion.
"What are ye doin', Rob?" Hamish asked suspiciously. "Ye look like yer nappin'."
"Recharging," I said with a smirk. "Magic doesn't come free."
Hamish muttered something unintelligible, likely a string of curses, as he rifled through the kobolds' belongings. "Bah! What a haul," he grumbled, holding up a crude spear. "A few scraps of hide, some spears... treasure fit for a beggar."
Moira's voice chimed in, thoughtful yet amused. "Ah, those gemstones you're overlooking, they're more than decorative, Robert. Keep them. As for the spears and hides? Even the humblest scraps have value when used wisely."
I relayed her words to Hamish, who raised an eyebrow. "Value? This? What're we supposed to do with a pile of scrap and some shiny rocks?"
I grinned, standing and dusting myself off. "I don't know yet, but come on. There's more to see."
Hamish groaned but followed as I led the way deeper into the dungeon. The glowing crystals dimmed as the path narrowed, the air growing colder. Somewhere in the distance, the faint sound of chittering echoed once more.
"Moira, what's waiting for us down there?" I asked quietly.
"More tests," she replied gently. "And greater rewards. But tread carefully, Robert. The deeper you go, the more dangerous it becomes."