Is It Wrong To Be A Khajiit In A Dungeon

Tall, really tall, babel tower is.

While the place where he comes from building like these can be seen every few blocks, even some piercing the atmosphere thanks to gravity technology. Still, seeing it up close in a somewhat middle-age era is a sure sight to behold.

A place where once avoided like a plague, now thousands of people revolve their life around it. The dungeon beneath that contains an uncountable wealth ready to be taken by those who brave enough scaling each floor and level. While the lid, babel tower, serves as a recreational center for the god who wanted to view at peak of the tower as well as an exclusive market for adventurers above its floor.

The enormous building cast a mighty shadow that enveloped almost a quarter of the Orario, a grimy adventurer strides his way to the entrance of the dungeon. Quite eager as the same with every person near him, marching through to the town square for another day diving and adventuring beneath.

"Hey, you there stop for a minute."

Someone called him besides as he tried to enter the building. A man in proper and formal attire, he does as the man said.

"What is it?"

"Never seen you before, new adventurer?"

He nodded at the guild workers, as they stand beside a stone pillar.

"There's a new warning issued a few days ago to not venture beyond the 15th floors until it has been confirmed safe. While I might know that you are a level 1 it's my job to ensure everyone is informed."

"Certainly. What could happen that it possibly made the guild warrantied such warnings, hmm." He inquired, intrigued about such an event.

The man complied, "There's an anomaly happened on the 18th floor a few days ago, apparently a monster rex was born there, an enhanced one at that. Thankfully a hastily made combined force defeated it. While the cause is still being investigated, we can't risk the adventurers to travel beyond that points lest it may cause a further unwarranted accident."

"Thanks." He nodded appreciatively which make the guild staff sigh in relief.

"Sure, it's my job after all. While we can't force the adventurers to heed our warnings at least they're willing to listen to us."

And then with that, he said his piece of farewells. It looks like being a guild staff and worker is not without difficulty other than the paperwork. Managing a hulking mass of strength and pheromone that is adventurers must require the strongest wills, surely, they can't afford a weak-willed individual that will crap and piss once intimidated with a single huff.

Though the information is not a new one from him, hearing various rumors from the wandering mouth of the adventurers and townsfolk, it's certainly confirmed that the rumor is true. That the safe floors have been ransacked by a new unseen enhanced monster. While the occurrences of monster attacks in safety points such as Rivira, the so-called town of adventurers beneath the dungeon, it's not an unusual thing as those monsters actually came from the deeper floors, but a monster rex the boss of the monster was directly born inside that floor a few days ago.

The dungeon is extremely intrigued his mind, for it loathed the existence of races and dare to say, divines. It had a safety point in every set of floors, then 18th, 39th, and 50th are the floors so far where the monster never born or spawned. Then the occurrence of an enhanced monster rex proves the point that the dungeon or whatever behind this mass death trap had full control of everything inside it.

But why does it, tolerate adventurers? the very beings that invade the dungeon for almost a thousand years that it made a safety point so they could rest.

He tried to acquire a few maps of each dungeon floors, but all of them just being a scam as those maps are completely obsolete. The dungeon will regenerate every damage it received, and it will in time shift every walls, construction, shape, and geology in every floor to a different schematic.

In a sense, it was like a grand quest for him. A dungeon system that screams typical procedural generated floors in a video game. The stat parameter the divines granted to mortal in the form of Falna. For a thousand years, no one had cracked the secret behind it, not even the divine or so they claim. He must be not the first or the last to try to uncover the lingering secret. The pile of bodies must have been gathering for years, but he refused to be added to its collection.

He descended the circular floors, to the deep pit of the abyss in a mind full of curiosity and cynicism. Curiosity will kill the cats they said, let him prove them wrong.

The Dragonborn raider of hundreds of burial crypts, finely-crafted and complex dungeons, and crumbling ruins for the first time his feet touched the ground floor of the grand dungeon of Oratoria. Hundreds of secrets were waiting to be touched, embraced in cold death or the wealth of the knowledge it possessed.

The first floor is hardly impressive. The atmosphere was cold, hallway made of rock formation tunneling his vision far away. It was hardly different than the Cave formation he used to explore in Skyrim. But he knows in time, the wonders resplendent it held will be a fine sight to behold once he conquers each floor.

As he strides the rocky brown of the hallway, CRACK, sounds of wall and spider web started to form all around him when he reached an intersection.

Intriguing, the Dragonborn beholden such a first sight as the witness of how the monster is born or spawned in the dungeon. From what he heard, the first floor shouldn't have birth multiple monsters at once for a level one, only the level 3 up above had such fine privilege.

It recognized his power, and his eyes flashed in conclusion. It challenged him, as the green abomination they called as goblin screech all around him. Surrounded by the most basic staple monsters in fantasy stories and RPG.

The monster is just a mindless one, the eyes didn't have fear nor sanity left behind only a simple drone in control of the dungeon.

One of the goblins was brave enough to have the honor of the first strike, but it was futile as the claw couldn't penetrate the armor the Dragonborn wore. The armored Khajiit only grunted as he intentionally opening his stances.

A shield made of the finest steel he held in his left hand, and an instrument of pain and death he held in the right. It was a mace, glinting in dark metal with a jagged spire that promised an excruciatingly painful way to die.

But certainly, the monsters never care -no, it can never possess such awareness other than filling their sole purpose, kill adventurers in every sight.

The Dragonborn made an unimpressive huff as he bashed a jumping goblin that seeks its claw to pierce his helmet. It plummeted by a powerful centrifugal force of the shield and was made into a paste of blood before disintegrating into dust and leaving a small glinting stone in blue.

The other provoked by the opening he made, made a mad rush to him. The Dragonborn swings his mace to the left and in quick succession earned a satisfying crackle of dusted bones, then he turned and raised his shields upward. Protecting himself of another attempt of ambush from behind, but the goblin clings to his shield.

Seeing this move, the Dragonborn rushed to a nearby wall, plummeting the goblin in a red paste and painting the wall.

He felt something rushed to him, an essence of life. Like he was absorbing dragon souls that could cause him in the euphoria of exhilarating feelings of absorbing thousand years wisdom of ancient dragon. So, this is the so-called Excelia, the concept of EXP given life. It was subtle, but he definitely felt the energy started pooling up inside him, it was abysmal though.

Then the hall descended into silence once again. All the goblin has been evaporated leaving some stones that it barely fitted between his fingers as he picked it up. Squinting his eyes between the slit of the helmet, he held the stone high in apprais.e.m.e.nt.

He cast a soul cloak before the beginning of his unimpressive first fight in the dungeon. A spell that enables him to soul traps nearby things that possessed a single shred of souls once the vessel died. To his surprise, not a single gem was filled.

In other words, the magic is not compatible or not synched since perhaps, the signature of the souls was vastly different than the typical monster he found in Skyrim. Maybe the souls have already been claimed or marked by the dungeon or the essence, the energy inside the soul has already trapped in the monster core. One thing he needs to confirmed as he used telekinesis spell to bring him every dropped item and monster core nearby.

And then he began his stride, intending to go to the deeper floors.

Sounds of cracking of the wall and bones resounded throughout the hallway, he never stopped his stride. As every goblin and other varieties of low-level monster, he crushed systematically, like a machine. The drop item and monster core were easily looted from the ground with the help of his repertoire of telekinesis spells that attract drop items. If it was in the game the item will be directly stored in his inventory, but here, it only brings the item to him.

No wonder, everyone loves space marines and their hammer. He's like a walking fortress of doom, a single step near then their body will be smashed into pulps. No need for arduous stretching, and acrobats. A simple swing is enough.

It was his style, a literal walking mass of armor. Khajiit is renowned for their agility, but him? He can easily match the Pahmar in the height and muscles department, not to mention strength. While he can switch to other playstyles easily, such as 'stealth' archer, or spell swords with their agility, it was more satisfying to hear a twisted sound of crushed bones and brain matters.

For now, he is content only using his muscle strength to elicit a painful screech from the mindless monsters of the dungeon.

With that he walked down a floor, using dirt and definitely natural occurring stairs. Then the 2nd, the 3rd way down to 7th.

The monsters usually ganged him in a group of four till six but the lower he descended the numbers keep increasing and counting. Not to mention, some monsters that are noted in the Oratoria Beastiary should have been spawned on lower floors started to spawn near him.

Maybe the dungeon was suitably matched the spawn rate so it could give a fair challenge to the Dragonborn. Though if it was the case, he was alarmed by the implication. Which means, he can't easily party with other adventurers that have low level and experience.

While he's unconcerned about partying as he intended to press down the floor further until he started to struggles or die trying, it means he can put nearby adventurers in danger. And again, he thought, this must be happening to high-class adventurers as well. Their life doesn't concern him, and they should have been prepared for such consequences. Of course, if he saw someone struggled in front of him and because of him, he will be happy to assist.

He was no messiah that could control the damage or seeking troubles just to save people in every corner. His life and precious one is the highest priority for him. While his morality is gray, he also couldn't just ignore someone if they need help in front of him. If he could help them, that is.

And, he couldn't be too happy right now with facing monsters in a dungeon, his dragon blood boils in violence.

As he hefted the mace again off a disintegrating lizard-man, and throw it to the war shadow in the left. And how he really loved the telekinesis spells, as he grasped the now empty hand and the mace flowed to him like Mjolnir to Thor.

He walked away once again, leaving a trace of carnage behind as the wall and the floors started to restore and heal or so they said.

While he wanted to press deeper, he just realized how much time he needed to explore the entirety of each floor. He made a simple pocket watch that tracks the number of times. It should have been dusk outside the surface reminding him how the dungeon could make someone lost the track of time with how dark and gloomy it is.

Blame the monsters that made him too occupied and immersed himself in the endless carnage of blood. He ought to keep a level head the next time he entered the dungeon, granted he was too much having fun exploring the hallway and the room inside each floor.

Stopping his feet, he noticed a crack beside him as he passed a wall. There's no sign of a monster. Unbuckling his mace in curiosity, he strikes towards the crack until it crumbles to ground and revealing a secret passage. He chuckled, and of course, like a Dragonborn he is or any adventurers out there, he entered the passage in a hope something will come to their fortunes.

There are a few noises, and screech resounding throughout the small passageway, he instinctively followed it. Turning and navigating in many points, a sight beholden to him when he reached a wide room.

The sight of vegetation is strangely alien to him, after seeing countless same dirt and rock all this time, it made him mesmerized until his eyes set to the center. A source of light was produced in the center encircling a huge pillar made of yellow quartz. A flock of monsters was gathering near it, as s.u.c.k.i.n.g every fiber of magical energy the pillar emitted in greed.

Pantry.

It was a pantry or so he read. The source of nourishment for the monsters.

He crouched silently, to the bushes nearby overlooking the feeding monsters below. Now what to do, the quartz or pantry obviously triggered his intrigue as it emitted a gigantic amount of magical energy.

Choosing his option, he decided to pick an AOE spell that dealt with heavy damage in a wide area. He can't make his goddess waiting at home, the sight of her waiting patiently until midnight as he just came back would break his heart. Somehow, he thought such a typical clique of husband and wife before erasing it in his mind.

Nevermind, the exhilaration from before has already gone. And the time to settle business, as he condensates a ball of mana and shaping it into a wild crackle of electricity in his left hand. He can't guarantee if the Pantry will be destroyed if he used a fire-based spell and it would be a shame if the foliage got caught in the fire.

Then the electro ball of mass destruction was launched and hovered lazily to the center of the room where the monsters gathered. Sensing the spike of energy behind them, the monsters only turned in bewilderment and soon disintegrating into a blue pile of dust when the ball launched dozens of azure tendrils to the monsters.

Some furthest and lucky tried to get away, but only found the darkness that greeted them as they started to vanish in motes of dust with their stone dropped to the ground.

The Dragonborn, who watched the carnage unveiled stood up from his position. Gathering the rest of the drop item to the pantry.

It was stretching to the ceiling and the ground, he tried to nick off one of the jagged parts of the quartz. He found it a disappointment as the piece of quartz in his hand started to lose its yellow l.u.s.ter and into a lifeless husk of empty crystals.

Well, no wonder that the pantries are not a lucrative business for the adventurers as it was more liability for them with how a large number of monsters often swarmed near them. Nevertheless, one more thing he knew as he stored the quartz to his pocket for further analysis.

He packed up every dropped item in a rucksack he wore behind, and leave the area until a flash of yellow passed his observant eyes. It was hiding in the foliage and the bushes.

He faintly traced the smells that's like an avian or chicken. Chicken monster, perhaps. He didn't read every page of the Bestiary book Eina gave him for dungeon study materials.

Nevertheless, when the bushes started to shake, he grasped his hand as grabbing something in the air. And lo behold, a fat chicken in yellow feathers. Curious indeed, the shape is just like Chocobo or a smaller version of the fat one. It was a wonder how it could move so fast it ignored the weight of the thing as he observed the flailing chicken that kept suspended in the air due to one of his telekinetic spells.

He caught it with both of his hands, and it started to flail madly until his hand slipped and it made a mad dash to safety. Not before the cute little thing singed into a fried chicken that is, and crumbled into dust and leave a single golden egg behind.

Shrugging such a fine opportunity of owning a cute fat Chocobo, he walked forward and picked the golden egg and carefully wrapped it with a loincloth and store it in the rucksack.

He strides again, not to below, but to surface.

The Dragonborn already had his fill of violence of the day, and his stomach started to grumble demanding a fine cooked dish.