Dungeon of Chance: Even Odds: A Dungeon Core Novel (Serious Probabilities Book 1) by Jonathan Brooks (interesting books to read TXT) 📕

It felt like he had just got cheated on a deal, and he was a bit angry with Dwight.  And himself.  Actually, mostly himself, because he had just rushed in and did it without consulting the baby dragonling on the place to set the Glowstones.  But still, he thought she could’ve been a little more clear next time something important like that came up.

“I will try to inform you of the exact costs of your actions next time,” Dwight said without prompting, having listened to his internal conversation with himself.

Thank you, Dwight.  I really do appreciate your help.  His parents had always taught him to be polite, even if you were seething inside about something.

By that time, there was no more chance to do anything – because his visitors had arrived.  He had been keeping an eye on them as he worked, which felt weird at first because he thought he might go cross-eyed; after a few moments, he realized that he wasn’t constrained by such biological limitations anymore, so looking in two different places at once wasn’t that much of a struggle.  An attempt to look in three or four places at the same time ended with everything becoming a bit jumbled, however.

“As you increase your Core Stage and become used to your new existence as a Dungeon Core, you’ll be able to view more and more without your mind temporarily collapsing at the influx of information.”

Uh, ok; I would guess that my mind collapsing is a bad thing.  Good to know.

Regardless, he knew precisely when the three people arrived at his entrance, and for the first time he was able to get a really good look at them.  Whoa.  I don’t remember the Heroes back home looking like this; in fact, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone quite like them.  Where did they get that color of hair?

Clay himself had dark-brown hair like the rest of his family, which wasn’t all that uncommon where he lived.  Some had lighter-brown hair, some even darker, but most people – including Heroes he had seen in the past and just recently – had black hair.  Some Heroes he had seen dyed their hair into some obviously unnatural colors like green, orange, or purple; some had even dyed it all grey or white.  But he’d never seen such pale-yellow color hair on a person before, looking nearly like old bleached bones left out in the sun.  Despite the analogy, it wasn’t disgusting – more like exotic.

The skin color of two of them, on the other hand, was quite the contrast to their hair.  There was a man who looked as big as some of the Heroes he had seen before, though he wasn’t wearing any armor or even carrying a weapon, and he had darker, tanned skin that appeared as though it saw a lot of sun.  There was a woman, much smaller than the behemoth of a man, that had hair tied up in a messy knot on her head – completely unlike the neat ponytail his mother typically wore – and she had skin of a similar shade.  Both of them appeared a bit sweaty according to their simple lightweight clothing, which was damp in a few telltale places.

The third person was only like the others in her hair color; otherwise she stuck out a bit.  She was wearing sheer enough clothing that would’ve made him blush had he still had cheeks, and her skin was lightly tanned, as if she didn’t spend as much time out of doors as the other two.  Oh, and she had some big—

“What is this place, Arcy?  Did someone commission this place built?  I’m sure my father would have heard of it, so why haven’t I?” asked the same woman who Clay was thinking had massive—

“I have no idea, but I think there is someone or something in here.  We all saw that flash of light, correct?”  That was the man this time, who looked around suspiciously – but with an air of curiosity that was plain to see.  He took a step forward, but was hindered a little by the woman with giant—

“Rosara, leave off my brother for a moment while he foolishly investigates this mysterious hole in the cliff…that just so happens to have torches burning inside it,” said the other woman, shaking her head in a gesture that Clay immediately recognized as disappointment.  He had seen it enough from his mother when he was younger that it was easily identifiable.

As she shook her head, some stray strands of the pale-yellow hair fell out of the messy knot on her head, falling into her eyes—which she immediately blew out of the way with a quick puff of air.  Tucking it behind her ear, she tapped her foot impatiently on the ground and asked, “Okay, Arcen.  Have you seen enough?  Now, let’s go report this to the guard, and Rosara can tell her—”

“I’m not done exploring yet.  Something is telling me to keep going.”

Is this normal, Dwight?  Do Heroes feel a calling to delve through dungeons?  He had never heard such a thing, but he was finding that his knowledge of Heroes and dungeons was like a tiny drop in the ocean.  And now I can finally comprehend what that means, having seen an ocean with my own two eyes…or whatever it is that enables me to see.

“You should know—no, you don’t.  I keep forgetting that you were never a Hero,” the baby dragonling replied, sounding exasperated.  “As to your question, no, Heroes do not feel a ‘calling’, though there are a few Classes that can use abilities that help them locate other dungeons.  And from what I can see through your Core, I don’t believe these are Heroes.”

How can you tell?  The man certainly looked like one, even if he wasn’t