Dungeon Walkers 3 Read online

  Dungeon Walkers

  Book 3

  Daniel Schinhofen

  Copyright © 2022 Daniel J. Schinhofen

  No parts of this book may be reproduced in any form by an electronic or mechanical means – except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles or reviews – without the written permission from the publisher.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarities to real persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Copyright © 2022 Daniel J. Schinhofen

  All rights reserved.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-one

  Chapter Forty-two

  Chapter Forty-three

  Chapter Forty-four

  Chapter Forty-five

  Chapter Forty-six

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Chapter One

  Stern read over the letter he’d just finished writing.

  Dad,

  I hope you and the rest of the family are well. I figured I should update you on what’s happened since my last letter asking for your help. Cyra, Trish, Cammie, and I just made it to Mistwood. It took a couple of weeks through the woods to get here from Whitewater. We found a lot of mistweavers, more than I thought there should be, but no swarms or bosses, luckily. The dark willow shoots are getting heavy in the area, too. We had to fight off a couple of the saplings. Cammie shone brightly for us during those skirmishes, with her flammable traps.

  We got into town late last night, found a room, and passed out. We’ll be taking today and possibly tomorrow off to get our gear in order for our run, drop off our quests, and do other odds and ends. Well, that, and we need to find another one or two to fill out the crew again. As you probably figured out, we lost Vulk in Whitewater. He settled down with a woman named Emma Pinage, the daughter of Ruddy Pinage, owner of the Deep Mug. They said you drank there once, and one of my mothers told them about pretzels. The owner named a dark ale after your group, and he loves to tell people how you all stopped in once.

  I got ahead of myself, let me back up some. When you helped get Vulk and Cammie’s mother, Urika, from the dungeon in Winterspring, it set the stage for a big shift in their lives. Vulk no longer felt guilty, so he set aside running and married Emma. Urika is staying with them while she gets her feet under her again, and Cammie decided to keep running with us.

  As for why she did, she seems to be interested in joining Cyra, Trish, and I in our relationship. It’s not a sure thing, but with my empathy, it feels like it. She’s been doing small things that give us all that idea, so it’s not just my imagination. It’s going to take a complicated relationship to a place you know all too well. Go ahead and laugh, show it around to my mothers.

  I was writing to you for a specific reason, though. We’d talked about meeting in the copper ranks, but I wanted to ask you to move it down to nickel. We’re in Mistwood and will be here for a while. Then, we’ll move onto Goldwood before finally getting to Blackwood. I’d like to meet you in Blackwood. I’ve been thinking hard over the last few weeks, and I want to ask them to marry me, and I want you there for the wedding. The entire family (even my obnoxious siblings), along with Marysue and Gerald.

  Write back and let me know. I’d like to know how your dungeon run went and if the new town is secure. I want to thank you again for supporting me like you did in my attempt to show myself as my own man. That might all break when we meet, but that’s fine. I’ve found love and acceptance, and I no longer need to try proving things to anyone other than my family, and soon-to-be-wives.

  Your loving son, always,

  Alistern Masterson

  Stern nodded, then folded the letter up. This will work out. I hope we know where Cammie stands with us by then, but if we don’t, that’s fine, too, Stern thought.

  “Stern, you good to get the gear cleaned?” Cyra asked, coming into the room.

  “Yeah. Did you all get the things you wanted?” Stern asked as he put his letter away.

  “We did,” Cyra smiled. She brushed one of her long, floppy bunny ears out of her face. “What were you doing?”

  “Letting Dad know how much Cammie and her family appreciated what they did for us and them,” Stern said. “I’ll post it in a day or two.”

  “That really was sweet of them,” Cyra whispered as she crossed the room to him, kissing him briefly. “The others are waiting for us.”

  Stern helped gather up their gear, carting it out to the living room. “Sorry about that. Let’s get maintenance done.”

  “Are we going to scout for more people tonight or tomorrow morning?” Cammie asked. She pulled out her small crossbow first to check it over.

  “I’m thinking we should just scout tomorrow,” Trish said, checking her shield.

  Stern gave the redhead a loving look as he sat down beside her. “Tomorrow would be best. Oh, that needs to be replaced. You see that crack?”

  Trish looked at where he pointed. “Shit... glad that survived until we got here. Mistweavers are bad enough with a shield.”

  “Yeah. We might also be shopping tomorrow,” Stern said. He gave Cammie a smile. “Make sure to see if you need anything replaced, too.”

  The dwarven woman looked down at her crossbow. “I will. Do you think they’ve settled in?”

  “Your brother and Emma?” Cyra asked as she checked over her armor.

  “Yes. I worry for them, which is silly.”

  “With your mother and her parents to help them, I’m sure they’re fine,” Trish chuckled. “You might be an aunt quicker than you expected to be, though.”

  Cammie laughed as she oiled the crossbow. “A year ago, I’d have been shocked. When they married, I figured I’d be an aunt in a year at the most. As I said, it was a silly question.”

  “A year or less for them to have a kid,” Stern said. “And no, I don’t think it was silly. You’re in a new place. Your mother is alive again, your brother settled down, and you’re here with us. Everything you knew a few months ago has changed. The real question is whether or not you’re happy?”

  Cammie looked up, seeing him inspecting his daggers. Her eyes shifted to Trish, who’d gone on to look over her scale armor. She settled on Cyra last, where the healer was still checking her modified leather armor. “I am. It’s a little odd to me, but I am.”

  “I can feel the happiness, but also your uncertainty,” Stern said
softly.

  Sighing, Cammie set the crossbow down, done with it. She picked up her own armor to inspect it. “I feel like a fifth wheel at times, is all. Once we get others in, that should hopefully stop.”

  Stern wasn’t sure about that. He glanced at Trish, who looked doubtful, as well. “We’ll find out soon, then.”

  “Trish, I have a few small holes for you to fix,” Cyra said. “I marked them for you.”

  Trish looked over to see Cyra setting the chalk aside. “Easy to find and fix, then easy to clean off. I never would’ve thought of it.”

  “Thank my parents when you meet them,” Stern said.

  “I will, but for more than that,” Trish smiled.

  “I’ll thank them, too,” Cammie said, “for what they did for my family.”

  “I... uh... I wrote them, letting them know the outcome of that,” Stern told her. “This way, they know exactly the good they did.”

  Cammie looked up. “Thank you, Stern. I was going to ask you if I could write them to let them know. If you’ve already done it, then it’s fine.”

  “If you want to include your own letter with mine, I can mail it out?”

  “Oh, I’ll do it after this, then,” Cammie smiled, meeting his nearly colorless eyes briefly before looking away again. “Thank you.”

  Stern felt her emotional tangle, but didn’t try to figure it out— she would approach them if she was interested. He wasn’t chasing anyone. He already had Cyra and Trish.

  “After gear, maybe we can let the Walkers’ hall know that we have two openings?” Cyra suggested after a few seconds of silence. “It might make it easier to find others, right?”

  “It could. I’d request at least one of them be a caster,” Trish said. “We’ve been lacking in that department. Our one attempt at having a caster was… bad.”

  “Michael,” Stern nodded. “I hope he figured out that being a Walker wasn’t for him. The thing is, I almost feel like he would’ve been okay in a hallway dungeon. I think the fact that we were in an open dungeon did that.”

  “He was afraid of being swarmed,” Cyra said. “He did okay at the start, even if he was panicking.”

  Cammie winced. “I still feel bad for shooting Pawly in that dungeon.” She looked at the sofa where Pawly was napping.

  Pawly cracked an eye open; she had the same color eyes as Stern. With a big yawn, she rolled onto her back, exposing her belly to the world.

  “Trap,” Stern snorted.

  A small meow came from Pawly as she rolled back to her original spot and closed her eyes again.

  “You’ll get dinner when we do, fur-face,” Stern said. “We all know you’re cute.”

  “I’ve been happy she sleeps with me,” Cammie said. “It made the trip through the Mist Wood a lot nicer.”

  “She’s a great cuddler,” Cyra smiled. “Aren’t you?”

  Pawly purred, snuggling into the sofa.

  “Okay, my scale held up fine against the spiders,” Trish exhaled. “Stern, I love the helmet, but it was a nightmare with the webs.” She tapped the bunnicorn-horned helmet. “I was thinking of seeing if we can sell it for a potential upgrade.”

  Stern looked at the helmet; there was a history to it for him and Cyra. “No. We’ll get you a new helmet, but I’ll send this one to my parents, and they’ll pass it on to one of my siblings. If none of them want it, I’ll have it set aside for when we finish running.”

  “Yes, please,” Cyra said. “It’ll make a good reminder for us.”

  “What’s its story?” Cammie asked.

  “Oh, it goes back to when it was just Cyra and I on our way back to Blackstone,” Stern said. “It was a wild boss that Pawly found while we were doing a bunnicorn quest. She took it down all by herself, the proud hunter that she is.”

  Pawly purred loudly, her eyes open and staring at Stern.

  “Uh-oh. Someone wants to hear you sing her praises,” Trish laughed.

  Stern set his daggers aside. One of them had a chipped blade and would need serious work or to be replaced. He picked up his pneumatic crossbow to check it. “Luckily for her, I can praise her skills and do my job at the same time.”

  “Please,” Cammie chuckled. “I’d like to hear about it.”

  “Sure. We picked up quests in Brightstone…”

  Chapter Two

  Stern was behind Trish as they entered the Walkers’ guildhall. The place was mostly doing good business, and would only get busier as more crews finished their runs for the day. This hall was bigger than the ones in the previous cities, and the halls would only get bigger as they advanced north, eventually reaching the current highest tiers.

  The receptionist desk sat in the far back corner. Next to it, there was another desk— Stern knew it had a plaque on it declaring it as the Rescue Squad’s receptionist. Down the wall from them was the quest board. It was full of quests that spanned from the highest rank all the way down to lead-tier. The bar was along the wall near the desk, where Walkers would drown their sorrows or drink in celebration.

  Stern felt the mood in the place shift when people spotted him. A lot of anger and fear filled the room in the span of a few heartbeats. Stern turned to face them, his badge clear on his chest. “Irregular, not blighted,” he said firmly. “Crew leader of Pawsitively Irregular.”

  Trish stopped, turning to the crowd with a raised eyebrow. “You think a blighted would just casually stroll into a Walkers’ hall?”

  Someone laughed. “That would end badly for them.”

  “Yeah, it would,” someone else laughed.

  The tension broke, but a few people still held to their anger and hate. “How can we be sure? Maybe he’s controlling you. They say the oldest blighted can do that.”

  Trish snickered. “Trust me. When it comes down to who controls who in our relationship, it isn’t him in charge. Bulwarks are hard to control.” She stood with one hip canted and a knowing smirk on her lips.

  That got more laughter, and jeers at the man who’d spoken up.

  “Excuse me. We have quests to turn in,” Stern said as he moved past Trish.

  “Go ahead, lover,” Trish said, kissing his cheek when he went by. “So, which of you is a caster without a crew? I’ll be looking to fill our two open spots before we go for our run.”

  That settled the crowd down. Most of them turned back to their previous conversations or started wondering who’d join the obvious freak crew. Two people watched Trish and Stern with interest from a small table, but they didn’t get up.

  Not seeing anyone calling for her attention, Trish sighed. “Guess we’ll have to try tomorrow outside the dungeon.”

  Stern came to a stop in front of the Walkers’ desk. “Excuse me, miss, I have quests to turn in. Dark willow shoots.” He placed the bag on the counter. “Along with that, we killed mistweavers. Is the guild interested in their glands or silk?”

  The receptionist smiled a little woodenly. “Ah, we are. We just got requests from an alchemist and a tailor for those items.”

  “I’d like to turn these in, then, if you don’t mind?” Stern asked as he placed two smaller bags on the desk.

  The woman relaxed fractionally. “Sorry. Of course.”

  “It’s okay. I’m used to it,” Stern said with a hint of sadness. “I was in Whitewater for a bit. The city and Walkers there were just getting used to me. Figured I’d be right back to normal here.”

  The receptionist looked away from him for a second. Gathering herself, she looked back toward him with a smile. “Walker, thank you for completing your quests.” Picking up the tablet on her desk, she held it out to him. “Dominant hand, please.”

  Stern pressed his left hand to the tablet, grimacing at the odd sensation that it always caused.

  She took it back a moment later, looking it over. “That was a lot of mistweavers.”

  “Yeah. No boss or swarm that we found.”

  “Still troubling... I’ll let the higher-ups know. Now, to check these.” She went through
the bags, then nodded. “I see your crew has you collecting all the quest rewards. Let me grab that for you.”

  “Half, please,” Stern said. “Place the rest on our recovery accounts.”

  The receptionist paused, then nodded. “Few think of doing so at these levels.”

  “I know,” Stern said softly.

  She was swift to count out the money for him. “Here you go, Walker. Safe runs to you.”

  “Thank you,” Stern said.

  He walked the ten feet to the other desk. For a moment, he frowned, then chuckled. “Caused a lot of confusion when you were younger, didn’t you?”

  The Rescue Squad receptionist grinned. “My twin and I got up to a lot of mischief when we were younger. Didn’t we, Harriet?”

  The other receptionist shrugged. “You did, Matilda. I was the good child.”

  “Yeah, sure. Who was it that stole Dad’s boots to stop him from going to work?”