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

Unlike some people she knew.

“Remember, we’re not going in too far—” Jeska reminded the other two as they walked cautiously through the entrance.  As soon as she passed the threshold, however, she could feel something different than what she could now remember of their first visit there.

“Do you feel that?” Rosara asked, her mouth wide open in either shock or excitement.  It was hard for Jeska to tell.

Arcen just nodded, gripping his wooden club a little tighter and positioning it in front of him, ready to smack into anything that attacked them.  None of them really had any particular training with weapons, though she didn’t think that using a stick to bash something’s head in took much skill or training – especially when wielded by her brother.

It didn’t take long for them to discover the first major change to the dungeon.  Ahead of them, the first room – which had been completely empty – was now filled with scattered plants, ferns if she remembered correctly.  As they got closer to the entrance of the room, Jeska glimpsed what appeared to be a glowing fern near the middle of the space; she instinctively knew that it wasn’t a normal fern, but most likely dangerous…in some way.  Whether it was a monster or not, she didn’t know, because a plant being a monster seemed odd to her.

“I think I see a giant rat or two underneath these plants,” came a voice from behind and below, and she let out a little squeak in surprise as she whipped around with her wooden stick prepared to hit whatever had snuck up on them.  Arcen and Rosara also turned around in shock, though they saw the source of the voice before she did.

“Who—?”  Her heart was trying to beat its way out of her chest as she looked around and then finally down, only to see one of the former street dwellers who had become a Hero lying practically on the floor of the torchlit hallway, peering ahead into the fern-filled room.  He looked up at her and smiled shyly, his eyes widening a bit when he saw that everyone had their weapons raised as if to hurt him.

“Whoa, whoa!  I was just curious what all of this was about!  There’s no need to hurt me—”

Jeska lowered her weapon to her side immediately.  “We’re not going to hurt you...but you scared the crud out of us,” she said, her breathing a little labored as she attempted to recover from the shock.

“Oh,” remarked the valiant vagabond as he got to his feet.  Looking at him close up, Jeska thought that he was perhaps a year or two older than she was, as well as being about 3 inches shorter.  “Sorry about that; I thought you heard me approach, but I guess some of my older…skills…have transferred to my new profession.”

It took Jeska a few moments to understand what he was talking about.  “You’re a…thief?”

“I was a thief, actually.  Pickpocket, mostly, and only on those who could afford to lose a few coins.”  There was no shame in his admission, just a statement of fact.

“How dare you sneak up on us like that, trying to steal—” Rosara started to shout, but Arcen put a hand on her shoulder, silencing whatever she was going to say.

“Now, now, Rosara; cut the guy some slack.  Not everyone has the same skills, and while I don’t condone thievery or pickpocketing, he was obviously good at what he did.  I didn’t hear him until he spoke, which meant that he was probably quite skillful at his profession.  Skillful enough that he never got caught, at least,” Jeska’s brother said, smiling at the smaller man.  “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Pascale, sir.”

“There’s no need for that sir nonsense, Pascale.”  Arcen held out his hand towards the former pickpocket for a shake.  “Name’s Arcen.”

Pascale took the proffered hand and shook it, his own basically lost within Arcen’s beefy appendage.  “I know who you are, as well as your sister and the Mayor’s daughter.  You’re all famous in your own ways.”

That was news to Jeska; oh, she figured Rosara was well-known because of who her father was and by the way she looked (she definitely stood out a bit for her looks), but as for Jeska, she wondered what she was famous for.  Probably for having a giant of a brother and an eccentric rich father.

“How would you like to be our fourth?” Arcen suddenly asked, which prompted Rosara to turn on him in surprise.

“You aren’t seriously thinking about having this…thief…join our group, are you?” she snapped out.  Oh, so we’re a group now, huh?  Makes sense, I guess; there’s no way Rosara would consent to not being in the group with my brother.

“Rosara.”  Her brother’s voice had gone deeper, more serious, and Jeska immediately recognized it as extreme irritation and the first warnings of impending violence.  He was normally an easy-going person, but on those extremely rare times he was riled up, it wasn’t pretty.  “He’s not a thief anymore—he’s a Hero, just like us.  And I don’t know about you, but I’m sure that having someone who could sneak up on any opponent as effectively as he snuck up on us – without seeming to try, grant you – would be highly beneficial.  I certainly don’t have any skills in that regard, nor do I think you do; Jeska could probably sneak around a bit better than us two, but Pascale has trained to be silent for most of his life, unless I miss my guess.”

“But—”

“But nothing, Rosara.  What are you afraid of?  Are you afraid he’s going to try to steal your stuff?”

“Well—”

“I don’t think we have to worry about that, do we, Pascale?  No offense meant by it, but I’m sure you’ve already tried to take from someone else’s Inventory,