Take A Chance

Yara had already been down to the Lucent Hall basement once. At least, she thought she had. She’d never had much cause to be in the building at all before, let alone its basement, and all the major halls at Obscurerra did kind of look the same…

Turned out, Lucent Hall’s basement had a basement. That had to be it.

After confirming that she had indeed found the correct hall, Yara trudged back to the first basement, little slip of paper in hand. Whoever had made the flier should have clarified better, but then maybe that was part of the test? The flier hadn’t mentioned a test, but that seemed like just the sort of thing a dungeoneering club would do.

Yara growled to herself as she began to search the first dungeon. She was plenty smart - she’d gotten into university after all - but she wasn’t a fan of puzzles or riddles. That was what dungeoneering teams had rogues or wizards for. And would no doubt have a lot of in this club, given the nature of Obscurerra. What Yara was hoping on was the hunch they might be lacking some muscle.

Metal squealed against the concrete as the athletic woman pulled one of the storage shelves away from the wall. She couldn’t say definitively that there wasn’t a secret door behind it without first moving the shelf to check, now could she?

Someone else hissed in the dim light of the basement, but Yara didn’t pay it any mind until they spoke up above the noise, “Are you here for the dungeon club?”

Yara stopped her pulling, but she didn’t let go of the shelf. Looking over her arm, could just see the speaker lingering on the edge of the shadows. They were shorter than her, but that didn’t say much. Nearly everyone was shorter than Yara.

“Is- Is this it?” She asked. Yara squinted into the shadow to try to see better. She still couldn’t tell much about the stranger in the shadows, but they didn’t fit her picture of whoever was trying to start up a dungeoneering club.

“No.” The stranger’s voice was monotone and oddly deep. Had she just been caught by a professor? Shit… “You’re thinking of a bookcase door, or trap.”

Yara immediately let go of the shelf at the word ‘trap’. They wouldn’t do traps outside of a dungeon, even if this was supposed to be dungeoneering club, right? “So, this is it?”

“No.” The stranger repeated, but this time he sighed before turning and walking away. “Over here.”

Yara followed after the strange man, deeper into the dim light of the basement. A nervous laugh tried to escape her as she thought a little harder about the situation. “You are part of the club, right?”

“Trying to be.” He lead her to the back wall of the basement and crouched down, revealing a trapdoor Yara must have missed on her first look around. “Open this, please.”

Yara shuffled closer before crouching down as well. Down on the same level with him, it was clear her first assumption had been wrong. His voice may have been deep, but even with his scruff and tired eyes, he had a baby face. There was just no way he could be anything but another student looking for the same club as herself.

“My name’s Yara, by the way.” She offered, about to grasp at the trapdoor’s ring handle, when his previous comments struck her again. “This isn’t trapped, right?”

“No.” The other student didn’t look up from Yara’s hand hovering over the handle. “Emmmeran.”

“And you’re not just like luring me down here to murder me and sell my organs to necromancers, right?” Yara laughed at her own supposed-to-be joke.

That got Emmeran to flick his gaze up and give Yara a visual once over that ended in a flat smile. “You have a far greater chance of being a danger to me.”

He wasn’t wrong. And she did feel a little better knowing that he knew that, although, “Yeah, but I’m not.”

“Trying out for the tank role, I see…”

Yara scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He didn’t need to explain. She knew. With her build and interests, dimwitted barbarian jokes were hard to avoid.

Emmeran sighed, but the dead in his deadpan expression warmed over to maybe a twinge of regret. “Just open the door, please.”

Tugged abruptly upwards, the trapdoor’s hinges gave a short shriek. The emptied hole in the basement floor revealed only a set of steep stone steps. They were old. Compared to the smooth floor of the first basement, the old worn down cobbles looked out of time and place.

“You think it’s magic?” Yara asked. Her curiosity out weighed any upset she’d just felt and out of the two of them, Emmeran certainly seemed to know what he was talking about.

“What? No.” Emmeran gave her another side eye before scootching forward to dangle his legs over the doorway’s edge. Rather than descending the stairs like a normal person, the young man continued to scoot down one step at a time. “It’s an old dungeon.”

Yara shot back up to her feet. Of course, Emmeran wouldn’t say more than that. She’d only just met him, but the mysterious, silent type was obviously his schtick. She might have called after him about it being obvious what role he was after, but she just couldn’t think of a clever enough way to do it.

After letting Emmeran drag himself down a few more steps, Yara followed down into the old dungeon. That made sense. Where else were you going to host dungeoneering club? Although, that brought to mind some questions about the questions that had been on the flier.

Emmeran waited for her at the bottom of the stairs. Yara had needed to crouch some initially, and the preceding hallway looked stiflingly narrow. She’d never considered herself claustrophobic before, but then again, Yara had also never set foot in an actual dungeon before. She didn’t think they’d be doing that so soon.

“Here.” Emmeran plucked the torch off the wall and handed it to her.

“What about anyone else coming down?” Yara asked even as she couldn’t do much else but accept it.

“There won’t be.” For as inexpressive as he was, Emmeran sure sounded confident in that idea. He began down the hall then too, leaving Yara no choice but to follow again.

“Oh.” Because that didn’t sound ominous at all.