Newly Broke Heroine! [Book One Complete, Cozy Fantasy Adventure]

"There are a lot of foot tracks in the dust. And several smuggler sacks." Jake pointed out that there appeared to be several empty dimensional bags hastily discarded in the corner of a storage room they found just below the opening staircase, wooden rafters and walls bringing a modicum of color. An arcane lantern flickered above them, though it appeared no one had attended to the device, given its dim light.

Ahead of them, the passage grew wider and wound down at a steeper slope of stairs; Fiona was mildly impressed. The fact that it was all made of poured cement suggested great care went into the construction of the passageway, along with numerous support beams.

"Given the size of this place, probably at least a dozen guys. shuttling things back and forth regularly. Maybe." She was guestimating based on the size of the room and the bunks nearby.

Jake pointed at the dust tracks. "They tended to stick to a particular path, and maybe lingered here for resting and temporary stocking." Jake motioned to another room with makeshift cots. The blankets looked relatively new and untouched by the dust. "Anything of interest?"

"No. Nothing in here," Doug said with a grunt as he peered through the dimensional bags and then a storage chest on one end of the room. "Not even a single copper. I am appalled that my history scent isn't working, either."

"Your history scent?" Fiona asked. "You know, a while ago at the shop, you mentioned you had a power. You never explained it."

Doug motioned them down the hallway where the stairwell went down, and he lit up a puff of flame to accent the glow of Fiona's golden bangle. "It's a bit of a strange power. A historian isn't a combat class, and dragons have some of their own functional powers. A gift from Earth, I guess. But when I'm near items that have significant historical context…I can sense them, and on rare instances, know what their powers are, and even get them to activate. What's unique about it is that I can also read the history. Whose used it, when, and where. Theoretically, I can activate cursed items to force their advertised ability, but...I haven't taken that chance. Not without being forced."

"That is a grossly underrated investigatory tool," Jake commented, keeping his head low to avoid the ceiling.

"Wait. Back up a second." Fiona peered at Doug in curiosity. Something about that ability sounded intriguing. "You could, in theory, use that dragon scepter on yourself?" He shivered a little at that suggestion

"Theoretically. I'm a little scared to try. The last time I tried a cursed artifact that way, it was in desperation," he explained.

"Or, it could go very badly," Bonnie countered, looking at Fiona sternly. "You really should just melt that damn thing down, Fi. Why are you still holding onto it?"

"It's shiny?"

Bonnie narrowed her eyes at her. "It's cursed, Fi. I can hear that thing whispering from the guest room. You put it in your safe without a night light. Wait, how the hells can a cursed item see?"

Fiona shrugged. "You're gonna question that, and not long-dead goddesses, transmigrated elves, and a dozen other impossibilities I see daily?"

"Let's just get going," Jake interrupted, cutting off the discourse.

They continued down the stairwell. It was not only growing damper down here, but slightly warmer, and the stairwell even had a ramp for carts–plus what looked like a gear track. "So, you have a treasure scent like me?" Fiona asked Doug a moment later.

He rubbed a claw on one horn, sounding hesitant. "Yes and no. Gods and other beings leave an imprint on the world. Sometimes a physical one, even. The past is imprinted on the world in a metaphysical sense. Here, I can only sense faint footsteps. Possibly the first people to discover an uncharted means to Underlune, but, it's vague. Not a lot to go on. This cemented stone is a recent addition."

"But, treasure is significant, right?"

He chuckled softly. "Yes, I do like shiny things, but I don't need them. And yes, treasure can have a valuable historical imprint. Some items can get so steeped in history, they can acquire their own powers. You don't even require an enchantment from our lovely kitsune."

"He's right, and that's not well known," Bonnie chimed in, bright eyes looking proudly at Doug. "Not everything we make requires magic to be added manually. Sometimes, magical materials have some wild effects on the end item, depending on how it's made. For good or for ill."

Fiona felt a chill go down her spine. "Is this one of those unsettling implications where if a weapon kills enough people, it starts getting a bad vibes aura around it? Because I know how this story goes. Spoilers, not well."

"There is one example I can think of," Doug said, stopping to inspect an alcove filled with expired candles. Dust coated them, like most elsewhere. "Long ago, there was a greataxe made of crimson metal. A massive and terrifying weapon, given its reputation. They called it the Death Culling. It was a recovered artifact from one of the Outsiders during the battle with them to purge them from our world, seven thousand years ago. A weapon that grew stronger with each person it killed. My theory? It was likely tainted by the invaders with their insidious magic, trying to get us to destroy ourselves. A weapon too dangerous to use."

"That is creepy," Fiona murmured. She glanced cautiously at Doug, whose snout was clenched tightly, the flame hovering over his palm burning brighter and hotter. They passed a seam in the earth where the concrete ended, and the dark stone seemed to be able to support its own weight. It looked like a natural cavern now, with only occasional mining tool marks.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"Not all of Cepalune's history is good, Fi. That particular weapon was responsible for the sacking of Theosides, the precursor to the dwarven kingdom in the Arkantines. An entire city was turned into a tomb overnight. It is drenched in history. They tried to destroy it. Teleport it. Throw it into a volcano. It kept coming back. Its existence became immutable. I don't know what they did with it, but the last recorded sighting of it was about four thousand years ago." he let out a soft grunt. "I mean, that's a bad example."

"Give me a good example, please," she replied hastily. She motioned them to avoid a broken step, and they walked around it, with the tunnel sloping further down. Faint traces of glowing moss now flecked the ancient tunnel, and it grew damper. She saw an expansion further ahead.

Doug led the way, shying away from the fragile skeleton of a rat. "The evergreen valley, just north of the Arkantines, has a hot spring that bathes the area in eternal warmth. It was constructed by one of the gods, Aveleri, goddess of mending. She lost her son in the war with the Outsiders, a mortal boy. She constructed the spring in his name, a commemoration that youth and love live on in our hearts. It is said that no ill intent survives that place. It is a place of healing–of the body, and the mind."

That one got her attention. "Does it really work as advertised?"

Doug glanced at her, face canted in curiosity. "You're thinking about Bianca."

"Yes, I am." Internally, though, she was thinking about herself. I've spent almost a year picking up the pieces of the old life. And I feel like I'm nowhere even close. Nothing like being a broken heroine, huh?

[Maybe you could use a trip there, too.]

Yeah, Wingding, maybe I do. But Bianca, first. She hasn't had it easy. Even before we got here. Doug noted her lack of response and smiled politely.

"While I can't absolutely confirm that it's more than a divine placebo…there are many that swear by it. I haven't visited it, but I certainly know of it," Doug added.

"Sounds like a honeymoon spot," Bonnie said with a giggle.

"For you and Mister Square? C'mon, Bon-Bon, has he popped a ring yet?" Fiona knew he hadn't yet. Because when he did, Greg would likely be unravelling, as Bonnie was the one thing that broke down his stoicism.

"Oh, it's a great idea. Buuuut, I was thinking of someone else." Fiona didn't like that toothy grin Bonnie shot her way, and the less-than-subtle ear tilt to the four-foot-short kobold.

"Uh huh. Yes. It's a great honeymoon spot for people who have free time on their hands, and aren't delving into an oubliette at present," she said with a twitching brow and an edgy smile. "Seriously, how far down does this go?"

"Down. Waaaay down," Darla said. "It's likely there are several level areas for them to rest and recover, or dig through softer material. This must have taken a ton of work. Maybe they cave slugs to dissolve the rock? I see some natural passages here and there, but this is rough-hewn. I think some dug by hand, maybe with some mark powers."

The tunnel reached a level spot and opened into a larger cavern. There were several branching paths leading down to a pool of water that glowed in the center. Fiona noted what appeared to be a small encampment of tents and dilapidated structures nearby with a few moldering crates, rusty metal benches, and a ramshackle shack on one side of the pool. "Hey, Darla. The glowing water thing. Is that potable water?"

Darla peered closer and took a sniff, then shook her head. "No. This water pool is fed by water draining through ore deposits above us, most likely. Didn't you do cavern traversal in the guild?"

"Not often. Most of my missions were topside. Man, I wish I had the soundtrack for Labyrinth right now," Fiona muttered. This earned her a round of grumbles. "Hey, hey, you have not known singing until you've heard David Bowie!"

"Is it too late to ship her back to Earth for a refund?" Jake said with a smirk, but frowned when he saw the water pool. "Careful where you step. Some of the pools down here will dissolve your foot faster than you can say 'oops.'"

Jake checked the shack in the meantime, going through grungy blankets and old cots flecked with moss. "This has been here a while, but not recently used. This really does seem like a smuggler tunnel."

Darla, in the meantime, had knelt to examine mushrooms glowing faintly white light, and she put them into her hastily summoned dimensional kitchen. "These truffles are just growing down here, not even being attended. What a find!" she said proudly. "It goes really well in a few dishes I know."

"So why's the resting point upstairs better maintained, and this is just being left to rot?" Bonnie asked pointedly. She fished her wand out and examined the footprints in the silt-like material of the cavern floor. "Multiple tunnels going down. It's like, at one point, this was a nexus for other people going up and down. I'm getting a bad feeling, Jake. It's too quiet."

Fiona couldn't disagree. Apart from a faint sound of dripping water, it was the most discomforting, engulfing silence she'd ever heard. "Well, there are three passages down. Which one do we go toward? I don't want to split up, not down here."

"South tunnel," Jake proposed, pulling out a compass and consulting his datapad. "No connection topside now, just what I've got locally. Bonnie, any chance that there are any mana crystals in here?"

"No. Not for such a travelled area, they would have been picked clean. We'd need to go deeper down. If Fi feels or hears any Aurelium, that'll be a good indicator."

"Feels?" Jake echoed.

"Okay, weird stuff time, Jake. The gold whispers," Fiona explained. Which seemed a touch odd. Shouldn't her Aurelium armor be making noise if it were the remnant essence of Feo'thari?

Or maybe it needs to be in sufficient quantities? Like more of herself coming together?

Jake just shrugged. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised when strange things happen around you anymore. I'm rather surprised it's so ill-trafficked, and no one is lurking around."

"Maybe after Karlin's team failed to annoy me, he gave up?" Fiona proposed. They proceeded past more of the glowing moss and down the twisting corridor, dodging between stalagmites that seemed to rise like giant stony teeth.

She cautiously gave it a tap with her hammer, on the off chance it was an actual monster composed of the entire cavern. Fortunately, that proved not to be the case.

The descent continued in silence, with the air growing damper and slightly warmer. How far down is Underlune? I mean, realistically, it can only go so far, right? Physics has to take over, because the deeper you go, the closer you get to the mantle, and the hotter it gets. She saw small critters skittering into the dark as they approached.

"I think I understand why you left Greg and the others at the shop, in case this took a while," Doug mused. "Think he'll be able to run it without us? I'm surprised you left Bianca to stay."

She let out a soft sigh. "I mean, c'mon, we're only going exploring a few hours, or maybe a day, tops. What could go wrong?"

"You say that, but every time we think things are back to normal, someone comes along and makes things difficult." He craned his neck to look down a narrow passageway and shone his puff of flame at the entryway. "Thought I saw something."

"Don't dragons have good night vision?" Fiona asked.

"Not as pronounced as you might think, and kobolds are on par with most other humanoids. I don't know…you could fit someone relatively small through here."

"Let's not," Jake cautioned. "Getting stuck underground is not something I plan on happening today." But, Doug leaned in, putting his ear up to the opening, one finger claw raised. "Doug, you hear something?"

"Voices."