Love and Cold Winds, Part 4.1: Does Dungeoning Count as a First Date?

   Nomands was a city built around a Dungeon, its stock and trade in the items brought up by adventurers. Everyone hates paperwork... It stands to be put to word that no one in our party enjoyed sitting for hours filling out parchment after parchment to finally cement their current roster in the laws of the land.
    Like many built atop a non-euclidean space, warped and magically saturated that spawns monsters, the architecture shifted to match its surroundings. Before the plains were settled, the Dungeon Guild experimented with containment by creating three high circular walls, one encircling the other with their gates never facing one another. This indeed slowed the beasts which wandered out, but eventually the walls would be breached and the gates torn down.
    Then came the mages and architects, followed by guards. Building on the ground meant you were in constant danger, so it seemed natural to build homes atop and sides of the thick and sturdy walls. And over many years, Nomands built, ever reinforcing the mighty walls as the tall tiered buildings and arching bridges rose and the population steadily grew.
    And like many dungeon cities it shared its universal stereotype of prideful citizens, colorful characters and loot hoarders galore. Having been holed up in the free (but spartan) quarters within the second ring of the city, as the last signature was dry, our party went to get a bit drunk as they waited for the bits of metal that would allow them to be out.
    "I had no idea there would be so much paperwork." Garn said over the din of the tavern, known as High as A Kite.
    "Only in a High guild dungeon." Norra replied. "They turn from a dangerous nuisance to destroying a whole city's economy."
    "From magical reagents, to rare hides to make into some new pants," Vort raised his mug and grinned. "And for adventurers to gather gear and gold!"
    A rousing cheer broke though the chaotic sounds as they and their fellows raised their mugs and saluted to collective greed and thrill seeking. When morning came everyone at the bar was collectively grateful to the cleric of Badolinain, the God of Party and booze, as their mass healing spell also dispelled hangovers before leaving party ground zero.
     With a bit more faffing about, the merry band found themselves at the lowest level of Nomands in a cramped hallway lined with cage-like lifts suspended over the abyss that led down to the dungeon. Said lifts were old, rusting in a few places, and swayed in the constant updraft of the hole below them. This lift system was one of the remaining originals the Dungeon Guild used back in the early days before teleportation magics were really fleshed out. Now they served as a much cheaper fee with a discount on returning stones (because the only person who can service the archaic and frankly obscure machinery is a very old, nearly blind gnome).
    Needless to say, it was a slightly tense and deeply uncomfortable ride on the way down. Garn being the largest of the group was the first to sigh in relief when it touched down on solid ground. With the appropriate creak of barely-oiled hinges they stepped out onto a stone plateau carved into the side of the pit. Shallow carvings which could be called stairs slowly made their way across the vertical walls of the abyss and vanished into impenetrable darkness.
    "That looks like a long climb down." Garn said, wondering where the light source that illuminated the land was coming from.
    "Good thing we are skipping it!" Vort said, taking place amongst the other party members as they lined up along the plateau's edge. "The stairs have weak monsters along it. It's better we skip to the good bits!"
    "Wouldn't that... kill us?"the dragonborn inquired as he stood next to Vort.
    "Relax my big friend, I have just the music arraignment for this!" Lym's hands flew across the stings on his lute as his melodic voice sung a flighty song that echoed all around.
    A faint yellow light surrounded the party, clinging to them like a second skin before the seasoned adventures threw themselves over the edge a second later. A solid five seconds went by before Garn jumped in after them. He was falling, but the spell made his descent less 'speeding toward a quick death' and more 'gently floating downward.'
    Garn fumbled though his pockets and pulled out a pocket lantern. This handy glass sphere had a bio-luminescent ball of fungus floating in a clear mixture. Pulling the pin up and giving it a good shake activated the mossy ball and bathed a decent area in white light. With a bit of stretching, Garn could see a few shadowy shapes perched on the stairs and within hidden alcoves, which grew steadily larger after each layer of stairs.
    In what felt like forever, Garn finally touched down in the light of Vort's lantern.The viscera and dark greasy stains told the dragonborn he was late to the party. A hallway stood looming before them, a plain archway filled with the same pervasive darkness. With a nod and some minor bickering the party fell in line, Garn in front, with Norra and Vort side by side and Lym in the back.
    As they pushed their way though the dark hallway, it seemed perfect for an assault by a small mob of monsters, or even traps but everything was... quiet... far too quiet, in Garn's point of view.
    "Isn't it a little too quiet?" the dragonborn asked the obvious question.
    "Yeah, there used to be traps and a mob of rickety shield-wielding monsters before the dungeon master changed it." Lym explained.
    " Dungeon master?" Norra asked
    "Oh right, you were all hilariously drunk. Apparently the Dungeon finally spawned another Dungeon master after guild called Laughing Casket cleared the whole place." the bard explained.
    "What's a Dungeon master?" again the obvious question came from the warrior.
    "Trouble." Norra said.
    "A super smart monster who is in control of the dungeon." Vort explained.
    "So that door wasn't there before then?" Garn stopped to point out the massive double door that now barred their way.
    The party took a brief moment to marvel at the craftments ship of the intricate face on the door before getting ready to kick it open, but then collectively jumped back (and groaned aloud) when said face opened its eyes and opened its mouth.
    "ANWSERS MY RIDDLE THREE, THEN YOU ARE ALLOWED TO OPEN ME!"