The Outside World

As he left the dungeon entrance, the vast cave area was occupied by torches, with a suspended rope that acted as a guide. He followed the dark-brown rope, climbing a steep hill of gravel within the enclosed space. It was a hike in its own as he found a tiny hole in one of the walls, crawling into it as he shimmied through the narrow space, finding his way through. 

Eventually, after over an hour of traversing the rocky cave, he found his way into a room filled with other people–it was bustling; all of them were geared in their own right, sporting equipment that ranged from simple pieces of leather to sublime, golden armor. 

"Hey, Bastian! On your way back down?" 

He turned around as he heard his name called, being met with a youthful man of a similar age to him with fiery, red hair and a yellow bandana around his forehead. The red-headed man held a silver-tipped spear in his left hand, dressed in light, leather armor that seemed easy to move in, holding his other hand up as if waiting for a high-five. 

Bastian slapped his hand against the other person's own with a smile and a nod, "Yup. Just got a pretty nice haul, I'd say. What about you, Gaston? Heading up?" 

The spear-wielding man let out a sigh as he ruffled his own, unkempt hair, "Well, I was. Get this: my group leader canceled because his equipment got robbed in the middle of the night! I mean, the guy is a bonafide silver-ranked adventurer, how's he going to get plucked clean like that?" 

"Sounds rough," Bastian said, looking around as the adventurers that came and went from the area, venturing into different avenues of the vast cavern. 

"Anyways, how about we get a bite to eat? You're paying though, seeing as only one of us had a good haul today," Gaston extended his offer, though it sounded more like a request. 

"Y'know, I wouldn't have to pay every time if you learned to roll solo," Bastian said, walking towards the exit to the gravelly lobby. 

Gaston followed beside him with a forced exhale, "Not everybody is as crazy as you are. You know some people started calling you "Dungeon Maniac", right? Heard some people saying you actually live in one of these dungeons." 

"If you hear anybody saying that, please hit them for me," Bastian said quietly as he sighed. 

"Anyway, about that, we should take on a dungeon together sometime! How about it? Been awhile since we have," Gaston offered, holding his spear up as he pointed it towards the ceiling. 

"I'll think about it," Bastian said, though not planning on giving it any consideration. 

There were tables and entire camps set up, not just for adventurers, but persistent merchants that displayed their wares for those preparing to explore the dangerous environment. 

"Get yer potions here! When yer bleedin' and cornered by kobolds, you'll be thankful ya had Granbald's Rejuvenation!" A tubby merchant proclaimed, holding multiple vials of vibrant, pink liquid and waving them around in front of the passing adventurers. 

"If you're going to slay monsters, you better make damn sure you have the proper steel to do it!" Another merchant, dressed in chainmail, called out. 

It was the same everyday for Bastian, who recognized each and every merchant as he passed by, entering a spiraling stairwell alongside his friend. The steps of smooth, snow-white stone were occupied by others who ascended and descended, leading to a cramped, but fast-moving environment. 

"Hey, did you hear?" Gaston asked. 

"Hear what?" Bastian responded, brushing against a leather-armored adventurer who was going up, though didn't bat an eye at it. 

Gaston laughed, "Man, you really do spend all your time in dungeons, don't you? Anyway, three top guilds are coming together for a huge expedition–I mean, huge! Sapphire, Dracon Alliance, and the Argonauts are going to set out for the twenty-ninth floor's guardian!" 

"Sapphire, huh?" Bastian repeated. 

"Yeah, the top guild–isn't it exciting? I mean, with those three working together, they might just do it! It's been a year since the twenty-ninth floor was reached, so I say it's about time to kick the doors down for the next one," Gaston excitedly went on, "The rankings will change for sure after a big expedition like that! I predict Beowulf will take the number one spot!" 

"Guess so," Bastian replied without any of the same enthusiasm as his friend. 

Gaston almost seemed offended by the lack of excitement, gasping, "Man–uegh, whatever. I just wish I could be on the frontlines, too. Slowly, but surely, yeah? I mean, I was still stuck on the first floor a year ago, now look at me!"

"On the second floor?" Bastian asked sarcastically. 

"...Progress, man. Don't knock it," Gaston looked away, scratching his head, "You've been up pretty high once, right? It was, uh…"

"The eighteenth floor," Bastian answered for him. 

"And here you are on the second floor, in the land of the "normal" like me. It's for the best, though. From what I've heard, everything past the tenth floor is just on another level–I mean, way beyond our paygrade. You have to be blessed by the gods to even dream of surviving up there," Gaston remarked with a sigh before glancing at the darkly-dressed man beside him, "Well, I guess you did survive, didn't you? How'd you do that?"

"Luck," Bastian responded, "I'm never going back up there anyway, so it doesn't matter. It's not like us without Blessings can even be ranked, so what good does showing off even do?"

"Guess so," Gaston shrugged before placing his hands behind his head casually. 

It wasn't a topic that he particularly seemed interested in discussing as he peered out of the window carved out of the colossal staircase, seeing the thriving city that laid beyond it: a bustling landscape full of remarkable architecture, with buildings made of brick and stone, and even further back, lavish homes of quartz. 

A remarkable amount of steps later, the two reached the bottom of the tower of steps, finally stepping out into the bright sunlight that beamed down. 

"Ah, fresh air once more!" Gaston stretched his arms out, welcoming the sunlight. 

A pathway of pristine, tan bricks laid beyond the entrance, neighbored by pools of crystal clear water, supplied by fountains shaped as warriors of differing races–humans, sharp-eared elves, and even stout dwarves. 

It took a bit of adjusting from the hood-wearing man as he pulled it down, looking up at the boundless, azure sky that seemed to stretch on forever, accompanied by a sea of fluffy clouds. 

He glanced back, looking at where he had walked out from: a tower of bleached stone, as white as winter snow. It reached upward past the clouds, having no visible end to its height. 

As far stretching in width as a town itself, it was an intimidating, but awe-inspiring sight; a structure that surpassed the limitations of human ingenuity. 

["It goes by many names–the "Prison of Monsters", "The Infinite Reach", "The Graveyard of Men"--but, it's officially called the "Tower of Yggdrasil": a structure of many mysteries, said to be placed in this city by the gods as a trial for mortals. It's been here for centuries now, but we've only just scratched the surface of it, even with adventurers from every corner of the world coming for it. Some are drawn by glory and honor, seeking to surmount its challenges. Some are drawn in by its many treasures, even with the risks of monsters of every kind, of unimaginable power. I guess I'm the same. But, some are allured by the mystery of it, wanting to find out why it's truly here, how it came to be…what lies at the end. I used to be the same way."] 

There were dozens of adventurers that loitered around, planning for their own expeditions into the tower, or arguing of who would get what share of their spoils; a common problem.

"Velmusia is as beautiful as always, isn't it? I swear, this city looks like heaven after being stuck in that tower all day," Gaston said, walking along the pathway as the fountains of heroes supplied the neighboring pools. 

"Again, you didn't actually do anything today," Bastian mumbled, leading the way as a carriage was pulled past him by dutiful horses. 

Though what the fiery-haired adventurer said wasn't wrong; Bastian felt the same way–the freshness of the outside air, the bright sky, a city full of talking, moving people, and most importantly, a lack of hostile monsters. 

Guards dressed in snow-white, sublime armor stood like statues around the perimeter of the tower, lining the bridge ahead as well. 

'Only certified adventurers are allowed to so much as touch the tower. It's for the best though,' Bastian thought. 

Looking at the bustling cityscape before him as he stepped onto the bridge that led to the illustrious tower, something else was on his mind. A dazzling river ran smoothly beneath the arching bridge of rich stone, separating the city itself from the tower. 

"Let's meet up later, actually," Bastian suddenly said. 

Gaston turned to look at his friend, "Yeah? Sure thing. The usual place, okay?"

"Gotcha," Bastian accepted with a small nod.