The afternoon sun was warm on Coraline's face when she returned from the forest, her basket now full of herbs and wildflowers. Her walk home was peaceful until she neared the village inn, The Drunken Gargoyle.
From within came a booming voice, loud and slurred with drink. It was a roar of pure, arrogant confidence. "AND THEN I'LL SLIT ITS THROAT AND DANCE IN ITS BLOOD!" the voice bellowed, followed by a loud, crashing thud.
Coraline slowed her pace, peeking through the grimy window of the inn. She saw a slender figure with pointed ears and elegant features leaning far too close to a woman who looked deeply uncomfortable.
The drunk elf slammed his empty mug on the table. "That's how we'll do it, my lovely Miriel! We'll storm that Nazas dungeon, kill every last one of them, and claim the treasure! The whole reward will be my token of love to you!"
He reached out a hand, aiming to cup her cheek, but it was caught mid-air by a calloused hand. A man in white armor, stood beside her.
"Enough, Emerick," Hanry said, his voice a steady rumble like shifting stones. "You are drunk and making a spectacle of yourself. And of our team."
A lean, dark-furred catfolk female, Nekari, stepped forward from the shadows in the corner, her tail lashing with annoyance. "He's right. Your shouting is attracting attention. We don't need every thief and spy in the region knowing our plans."
"Bah!" Emerick spat, yanking his hand back. He glared at Hanry, then at Nekari. "Fine. You two ruin all my fun. I'll find that monster and I'll kill it, with or without your help!"
Rejected by his own team, Emerick's face twisted into a sullen pout for all of three seconds. Then, with a theatrical flourish, he spun away from them, his longbow slung carelessly over his shoulder.
He stumbled two steps and slung an arm around the waist of a passing waitress, a plump woman who jumped in surprise.
"Now, now, my dear," he slurred, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "A beauty like you shouldn't be slaving away. How about you and I run away? We could go to the jungle! I'll slay a beast for you, and you can… uh… polish my helmet!"
The waitress, unimpressed, deftly extricated herself from his grasp. "I've got tables to clean, sir."
Undeterred, Emerick's gaze fell upon a table of grim-looking adventurers nursing their drinks. He sauntered over, plopping down uninvited.
"Evening, lads! Tell me, have you ever seen a monster so big it had two heads? I have! Took one clean off with an arrow, right through the eye! The other head? It just looked sad!" He roared with laughter at his own joke, slapping the table so hard the mugs rattled.
Across the room, Hanry watched with a pained expression, his jaw clenched. The very image of stoic discipline, he stood as a pillar of order amid the surrounding chaos. He took a slow sip of water, as though trying to wash away the bitter aftertaste of Emerick's antics.
Nekari, meanwhile, had taken the opportunity to melt back into her seat. She observed everything from the shadows, her amber eyes calculating. Her long black-tipped tail twitched occasionally, the only sign of her irritation or amusement.
Miriel, the object of Emerick's earlier attention, looked deeply relieved, her shoulders slumping as the tension left them. She gave Hanry a small, grateful smile, a silent thank you for his intervention. She was a gentle soul, clearly ill-suited for the loud and boisterous company she was forced to keep.
In the corner, away from the drama, the largest man in the room, Rolfe, sat hunched over a table. He had remained silent throughout Emerick's entire performance, his face an impassive mask. His big bear-like frame was slumped in the sturdy chair, which groaned under his weight.
Looking bored, he lifted his heavy mug, drained the last of its contents in one go and set it back on the table with a dull clank. Turning his head, eyes scanning the room before landing on the doorway. He saw the flash of a skirt as someone peered in, then quickly disappeared.
Outside, Coraline's heart hammered against her ribs. 'Nazas dungeon? Was that the place Lyssandra lived? Shit!' The name jolted her.
She fled from the inn, her mind reeling. The basket of herbs felt heavy and useless in her hand. Her neatly ordered world, her peaceful village life, had been shattered by a single, overheard phrase.
'What do I do? Do I go there and tell her?' The thought was absurd. She was a village girl, not a warrior. 'No, I can't. That place… I've heard the stories. It's deep in the Withering Jungle, a maze of tunnels and monsters. How could I possibly get there by myself?'
'But I can't let them harm her,' a more desperate part of her pleaded. 'Lyssandra saved me. She's not a monster, not really. She was… she was strong.' The memory of that confident woman flashed in her mind, a stark contrast to the fear she felt now.
'What to do? What am I going to do?' The question repeated in a frantic loop, her feet carrying her swiftly toward the familiar comfort of her home, as if its walls could shield her from the impossible choice that now lay before her.
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"So, you still decided to run into the jungle and tell me?" Lyssandra's voice was directly behind her ear, vibrating through her entire body.
Coraline flinched, then took a shaky breath. "Y-yes… I don't know why I did that. But in hindsight, it was such a terrible idea, running deep into the forest, alone. What was I thinking?" The words rushed out of her, her fear and regret bubbling to the surface.
"Oh! How sweet you are," Lyssandra murmured, her tone shifting from teasing to something genuinely touched. She tightened her hold, her breasts pressing warmly against Coraline's back and head. Her arms wrapped securely around the trembling girl.
"But yes, it was dangerous," she chided softly, her voice losing none of its warmth. "What if it was not me you found, but the wolf, or those Red Death bandits? You would be eaten, or kidnapped again. You are not strong enough to face the wilderness alone."
"I-I understand," Coraline sobbed, her voice cracking. "I'm sorry." The tears she had been holding back finally spilled, tracing hot paths down her cheeks.
"There, there, don't worry. I'm here. I will keep you safe," Lyssandra cooed, her hand gently stroking Coraline's arm and side. The remainder of the journey back to the dungeon was smooth and steady, the wolf carrying them without a single jolt.
'The rumor is out, and everyone is looking directly at my place. I wonder who leaked it so soon,' Lyssandra thought, a scowl forming on her face as she pulled a thin blanket up to Coraline's chin.
The girl was already asleep, her breath shallow and even. Lyssandra's gaze lingered on the faint red lines marring Coraline's arms and face, scratches from thorny vines and stumbling falls in the treacherous jungle.
'But with a healing potion, everything was in order,' she mused, her expression softening. 'I'll let her rest and be prepared for the upcoming danger.'
The news had spread out faster than expected but she wasn't entirely surprised. 'I know I can't keep the return of the dungeon a secret forever, so this will be the first proper battle between adventurers and the dungeon.' A grim smile touched her lips. Let them come. She was ready.
But a sudden, thrilling idea popped into her head.
'The dungeon leveled up before and brought many things back with it. Included many other things besides the expanding floor.' The smile widened, becoming cruel and predatory.
'I know what to do,' she thought, her mind already racing.
'I will give them a whole new surprise.'