Novel Escape the Dungeon

I'll probably just post the first full chapter or two here, and post the rest on royalroad and scribblehub. But I can't post parts of the chapters in those places, and I feel I can here. As I am too excited to wait until I finish writing the chapter to share it. And I'll have more patience later on.

Synopsis: An elf, dwarf, and halfling awake and find themselves imprisoned in a dungeon. Read as they try to escape. If you like D&D, you'll like this... probably.

Genre: Action, Adventure, Comedy, Drama

Table of Contents:

1. Chapter 1 Part 1/3
2. Chapter 1 Part 2/3

 

Spoiler: Chapter 1 Part 1/3

Drip, drip, drip. An elf is awakened by the cold tap of water to the top of his head, and looks around to find himself in a dimly lit place, one so dark any without his race’s darkvision or better could barely see at all. But for him, this place was bright as day. Iron bars lined the wall opposite to him, and every other wall was festooned with bleak cobblestone. Dust and dirt littered the place, along with a pile of bones. He himself stood chained and manacled to the wall, along with two others, a dwarf and halfling. What little light there was came not from inside their decrepit dungeon, but from the outside halls.

The elf wore a brown cloak over his leather and fur-lined jacket. The dwarf was covered in chain mail, head to toe, and over it hung a once white cloth that had now become closer to the color of parchment. The halfling wore simpler clothes, a stained white linen tunic with a black vest over it, brown wool trousers, and a dark red scarf.

The other two were still unconscious. The elf’s first thought was of escape, and his second was to change. But when he tried to, he could not. His mind and body were too tired. Getting knocked unconscious and then strung up like a marionette hardly allowed for a sound sleep. He was awake now and didn’t think he would be able to go back to sleep with the conditions the way they were and the frigid water still dripping. So there then did he enact his second line of thought.

He muttered, in hopes of not alerting any possible guards of his wakefulness, at the other prisoners, “Hey, wake up.” Not so much as a stir. And so he wagered on a louder call, and when that did not work, an even louder one, and so on until he he was shouting, “WAKE UP!” To this the other two did stir, and some more, they flinched and jolted up in attention, looked around, worried looks painting their faces, and then their eyes glanced on the source of the sound that awakened them, the elf, Vaelin Morrow.

The dwarf, Regi Uther, was the first to speak, at no one in particular, “Where the blazes are we, and how in the nine realms did I get here!?”

“I know as little as you, dwarf friend, but I suspect our goals align.”

He looked around again, and a conclusion came to his face.“Aye, they do indeed.”

“Oh god, they finally caught me. I knew this would happen one day. I knew it.” Said the halfling, Edwin Rantallad, who was having a shaking fit.

“What do ya mean,” asked Regi.

Edwin didn’t notice his question, and simply kept on lamenting over his damnable fate.

“Oi!” remarked Regi, and to that Edwin jolted again, and jerked his head in the dwarf’s direction.
“What!?” shouted back Edwin in an I’ve already got enough problems tone. Regi persisted, “What do ya mean by ‘they finally caught ya’? Who are they?”

Edwin’s eyes were shocked, as if the question was ridiculous, “Isn’t it obvious? The city watch! They finally caught on to my thievin’ ways. It was just one apple! I didn’t think no one would mind,” he muttered, embarrassed and ashamed, “or notice.”

The dwarf shook his head. “I don’t think this has anything to do with the city. There would have been some sort of system or regulations, but I just remember minding my own business and then winding up here.”

“Me too,” said Vaelin.

“Huh, me too,” said Edwin, who now became even more embarrassed at his earlier outburst, partly for the falseness and haste of his conclusion, and partly for his admittance of theft. His face was red. He was glad the room was so barely lit. Unlike elves and dwarves, halflings didn’t have darkvision.

“So we’ve got to get out of here. Any ideas?” asked Regi.

“I was hoping one of you would have one. My only idea didn’t work.”

“And what idea was that?”

“I can change my form into one of an animal. I was planning on changing into a mouse to free myself from these shackles. But I have neither the energy or will to do so. On a good day, I can usually change forms and back twice a day. This is not a good day.”

“You were going to try and free us once you freed yourself, right?” asked Edwin, hopefully.

“Honestly, I didn’t think that far.”

“I see,” Edwin cast his eyes downward, disappointed.

“What can you do,” asked Vaelin to Regi.

“I am but a cleric of Oromir. I have a few cantrips and fewer spells, but they are all for mending or defense. None are capable of freeing you or I.” Said Regi, apologetically.

Then the two looked on at the halfing silently.

“Me!? Uh, I have no special abilities magical or otherwise. I’m pretty good at fishing, and, uh, I can eat more than my body should physically allow? At least that’s what the tall folk say.” He laughed nervously.

The other two did not respond. Their eyes shifted away from the halfling and cast down. Edwin followed.

“We’ll have to wait then.” said Vaelin. The elf told the two of his plan, whispering, in case any were listening.

Vaelin would have to gather what little rest he could, before it was too late and something was done to him or one of his newfound fellows. He would get used to the dripping wet, as he had before in the many times he had slept in the changeable wilderness.

Time had passed, how long the three were unsure of, as they had slept through some of it, and there was no sun to tell the passage of day and night, or dusk and dawn. But finally, a change had occurred in their ever stagnant view. A golem pushing along a cart came up to their cell and stopped. Atop the cart and under it in multiple levels were trays of food. The golem came up to the cell door, entered in it a key, and turned it. The golem pushed the cart inside the table, and attempted to wake Vaelin, who was pretending to sleep, with a gentle pat of the cheek.

 

Spoiler: Chapter 1 Part 2/3

But before it could, Vaelin morphed into a stag, loosening and freeing himself from the grips of the shackles, and before the golem could react, Vaelin planted his legs on the floor and leaped head first at the golem’s chest, impaling it and causing the dim light in the center of its forehead to fade out.

As Vaelin attempted to pull his antlers out of the golem’s chest cavity, the bits of rock that composed the being fell loose like flowing water. Edwin exclaimed, “You could have at least tried to talk to it, get some information about the place!”

“Yes, but I would have likely traded a sure kill for it. And I much prefer these keys in my hands than the possibility of information.” Vaelin had changed back and jangled the rings of keys that were on the golem’s person.

The three massaged their sore wrists and ankles as they spoke of what to do next. “We’ll stick close, try to sneak and not make much noise, and signal each other silently if anything is amiss.” said Vaelin. “We’ll need our weapons if we plan on leaving this place alive.” said Regi. “Um, I can scout ahead. I’m much smaller than either of you, so it’ll probably be harder for any to see me.” said Edwin.

Regi was impressed by the halfling’s bravery compared to the nervous wreck he was earlier. But it was not bravery that caused Edwin to volunteer the spot, he simply wanted to be useful to the two that seemed so capable, he had forgotten to weigh the risk of the position in that single thought.

All agreed. The halfling would lead the troupe, the dwarf would follow behind, and the elf would bring up the rear, checking behind their backs’ every so often.

But as they cautiously left their cell, they noticed that the hall went two ways, left and right. And so they had to decide: which way to go. In the end they chose left, as each way was equally as dangerous and mysterious to them. On their way, they passed many other cells, but most were empty, and those that weren’t consisted of the old or nearly dead. Edwin had wanted to free them, but Vaelin argued against it, saying, “Those without the will to live will only slow us down. If any call to us for assistance I’ll relent, but otherwise, I shall not.” Regi grudgingly agreed. And that was enough to silence the halfling’s protests.

Eventually they came upon a door instead of another cell. The halfling peaked inside the lock and told of what he saw: nothing but a blackened room. Edwin turned the knob, surprised it was unlocked. What lay within were parchment, ink, quills, backpacks, candles, and flint and steel. The three each took for themselves a backpack and an assortment of the other things. All the parchment was blank.

It was decided Regi would map their way, so they would not get lost. The three continued down that passage until they were met with a wall, then they turned back, returned to the front of their cell, and tried the other direction.

And it continued on with many cells like before. When the three came to a turn, like they had done before, they gathered against the wall closest to it, and Edwin peaked his head out low. He nearly screamed out in fright, but Regi had caught hold of his mouth and muffled it. “What is it,” whispered Vaelin, worry mingling with urgency in his voice.

After Edwin had caught his breath, he said full of dismay, “Goblins–5 of them. All armed.”

Goblins often were a malicious and untrusting sort. Their faces seemed to rest in sneers, and they nearly always traveled in packs. This particular group wore not much more than loin clothes, vambraces, greaves, and instead of shirts, they wore straps that either secured pauldrons or a weapon. They had spears, maces, and short swords of iron. Their weapons were jagged and scratched. A good dwarven blade would be uniform and pristine. Races like the goblins and orcs were more tribal and barbaric than those of the elves and dwarves. Often times, it would be rare to meet any who spoke the language of the other.

The three agreed on a plan and readied themselves. The goblins marched closer to them.

Regi peaked his head out low from the corner, as slightly as he could so he could still see the other side of the hall the goblins walked, and snapped his finger. But a sound didn’t not emerge from him, no, it appeared on the other side of the hall, behind the goblins. They turned at it. This was the effect of a cantrip known as thaumaturgy, a spell any mage could cast countless times a day, and one that played with the senses.

Next was Vaelin. He ran out into the hall of the turned around goblins. And as one was about to turn back around, to the elf, Vaelin turned his palm to the ground and sprung from between two stones a thick vine covered in thorns. It whipped at the goblin with an audible crack of thunder, causing it to fall back in agony. This was also one of those nearly costless cantrips.

As the other goblin’s were catching wise, Vaelin lunged for the fallen goblin’s fallen blade and tossed it back to Regi, who took it and ran up to Vaelin’s side. The four goblins now saw them, but it took an instant to process what it was they saw. And in that instant, Vaelin pulled free from the ground his thorn whip, and Regi slashed at a goblin’s chest. Two down. The three goblin’s now lunged at the two, but the elf and dwarf were quicker, the two downed two more goblins as they were mid-stride.

 

This series doesn't feel right. I'll be scrapping it.

 

This was actually really good! I'm sad to see that it was scrapped

 

Thank you for the sentiment. But the premise and characters all felt too lacking to me. I probably could have built on them if I continued the story though. I might continue it someday.