The Bee Dungeon

The light of the sun filtered down the canopy of a warm forest. The canopies of the trees, the shrubs and the bushes, and the ground itself were all covered in flowers of every shape, size, and color. The air was filled with the singing of birds and the buzzing of bees. Bees, butterflies, and pollinators of every sort flew from flower to flower.

In the midst of it all, Tarwantrad stood before a beehouse, carefully carved from the finest wood with flower designs adorning the walls. She smiled as she removed the roof and gently lifted one of the trays, watching the bees crawl all over the honeycomb and each other. She took her time looking over each brood cell she could find. Her smile grew as the queen flew out and danced a salute to her.

“You are enjoying the new home?”

The queen danced her confirmation. Tarwantrad and the queen then flared their mana slightly, moving the worker bees out of the path of the tray so that Tarwantrad could gently return it to its place.

Belissar’s Beehouse. That was a human name, if Tarwantrad wasn’t mistaken, and that had made her deeply suspicious at first. Tarwantrad hadn’t met one personally, but all the lore and the histories agreed that humans were wasteful, arrogant, and shortsighted, and had no respect or affection for the world around them. What sort of human would have ever taken the time and attention to make their bees happy?

But apparently this beehouse was approved by the God of Bees, so Tarwantrad gave it a chance. The results were…surprising. The trays were a neat and well-designed feature, allowing her to observe the inside of the hive without disrupting or destroying its structure. They had been carefully spaced from one another at the exact distance that the bees wouldn’t fill the gaps with either propolis or wax, allowing her to continue moving them and allowing air and bees to move through the hive with ease. Well, that would be a disadvantage during cold weather but worked well in the heat, and Tarwantrad could see spaces that could be stuffed with furs, cloths, or other linings to insulate if necessary.

For a human’s work, it wasn’t bad. The precise spacing of the trays told of close observations and continuous adjustments that must have taken a long time to work out, a kind of care and patient effort she would not have expected from someone so mortal. And more, the trays could be removed without damaging the rest of the hive, thus allowing a beekeeper to gather honey without destroying the hive completely. Tarwantrad did not gather much honey from her bees herself, but she could appreciate the desire to do so while keeping the harm to the bees at a minimum.

Most of all, the bees seemed to like them. As did the God of Bees, enough to name this feature for a human. So, if there was ever a human she would have liked to meet, it would have been this Belissar, should they still live.

Tarwantrad wrapped up her work on this hive and started preparing to tend to the flowers all around when she was suddenly interrupted.

Tarwantrad’s eyes widened.

“There’s…a bee dungeon?”

She had to go and see this, even if she hadn’t been granted a mission from her patron to do so. She shouted across her dungeon as only a dungeon master could.

“Nolarling, I’m going out! You’re in charge until I get back!”

“Ok.”

With her dungeon safely in the hands of her assistant, Tarwantrad raced to the nearest shortcut, her mind racing even faster than her body. Her stride slowed down, however, as she almost immediately ran into an issue.

Where, exactly, should she begin searching for the bee dungeon?

She knew with complete certainty that no bee dungeon existed in the lands of the fair peoples, at least none who participated in the Calwaskon Compact, if for no other reason that she would not forgive anyone who knew of such a thing and had not informed her. No dungeon was kept secret among the Compact to begin with, she should have met any such dungeon master herself at the dungeon fair if nothing else.

So, that would mean she would need to venture into the dark lands beyond the realm of the fair. She knew not if anything even remained out there besides the Hunger, so she had no idea where to begin her search. She would have to confer with the loremasters, or perhaps the wardens?

Tarwantrad was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she nearly collided with someone trying to enter her dungeon. She jumped back and apologized, then looked at the woman who she nearly collided with. Another woman like herself, dressed in colorful garments adorned with flowers, and a crown of flowers in her hair.

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“Oh, hello Almablom, are you here to visit my gardens again?”

Almablom shook her head with an amused grin.

“No, actually, I’m here to see you.”

Tarwantrad tilted her head.

“Me? Not that I’m not happy to see you but I was just about to run out.”

Almablom smirked at her.

“For your mission?”

Tarwantrad’s eyes widened.

“How did you know?”

Almablom’s face took on a serious expression.

“Because I have received an oracle from the God of Flowers specifically for you. She has given met a set of directions for you, as well as a warning. You are not to seek the aid of any other dungeon master on your quest, particularly from your fire friend.”

Tarwantrad tilted her head.

“Urubran? Well, I suppose he would not be as excited about this as I.”

She shook her head and then grinned.

“In any case, thank you, Almablom. Now I know exactly where to go.”

Almablom leaned in.

“If you’re really grateful, tell me what the mission is! This is the most specific and direct oracle I’ve ever received! The most specific and direct one I think anyone has ever received, ever! You have to tell me what’s going on?”

Tarwantrad grinned at her.

“I’m going to find the bees.”

“Give up your quest now.”

Tarwantrad stepped back as if slapped as the loremaster glared at her. She and Almablom stood in dry hall, every inch of wall or free space occupied by shelves filled with books and scrolls. The loremaster appeared as a man as young and fair as either of them, but with a piercing gaze that held more knowledge and memories than they would ever obtain. That gaze was now turned to her with all the force the loremaster could bring to bear, on that would brook no argument as the loremaster rose to his full height and towered over her.

And yet, Tarwantrad regained herself and stepped forward, glaring back at the loremaster.

“I will not. And why should I?”

The loremaster continued to glare down at her.

“That path is entirely too dangerous and filled with evil. It is folly to attempt and I will not see you throw away your life. We cannot afford it.”

Tarwantrad gritted her teeth.

“And how do you know? You have not even checked the map!”

The loremaster slowly shook his head.

“Because, young dungeon master, I do not need to. I know the path you have described; I have walked it before in the days before your birth. The directions you have given me would lead you inside the old borders of the fallen human kingdoms, the first lands to fall to the Hunger. I doubt anything could still survive there. And I would fear greatly anything that did.”

Tarwantrade clenched her hands into fists down at her sides.

“Still, I cannot give up. This is a mission from my patron, loremaster. There is a dungeon there I must find.”

The loremaster didn’t flinch.

“And? Who would take you there, dungeon master? What army could push back the endless tides of the Hunger that bar your path? Even if you could find one how would you convince them to go and die for your cause? Or do you intend to go yourself? Do you hope to sneak past the all-consuming corruption that infects every stone and twig along your route? No, young dungeon master, this is not the inside of your patron’s domain, where the very air is full of her power. Where every monster and animal and tree and the very ground itself obeys your command. It will not go as you wish. And if you go, you will be torn to shreds, and we will be down a dungeon master even as our wards weaken by the day. You shall do no such thing.”

Almablom frowned and spoke up as Tarwantrad and the loremaster continued to glare at each other.

“Loremaster, that may be true, but I can confirm that these directions were given to Tarwantrad directly by the God of Flowers. Surely that bears consideration?”

The loremaster turned his gaze to her.

“Yes, young oracle, you can confirm the God of Flowers has a significant interest in this matter. But you should know as well as I that the gods have their own agendas, and do not always take our circumstances into consideration when pursuing them. It is, therefore, up to us to consider those circumstances and decide if and when a task is feasible. In this case, it is clearly not, unless the God of Flowers has told you something I know not?”

Almablom wilted under his gaze.

“She…has not.”

The loremaster waved them off.

“Then go and think on this matter no further. If you must, consider how you may change our circumstances to make it possible. The first of which would be to strengthen the faltering defenses of the Compact. That should be your primary concern in any case, dungeon master. No other task takes priority.”

Tarwantrad glared at him once more but left without another word. Then she paused, and turned, heading towards another shelf. Almablom raised an eyebrow.

“So, what are you going to do now, Tarwantrad?”

Tarwantrad shrugged as she pulled a scroll from the shelf.

“As the loremaster said. Consider our circumstances.”

Almablom frowned.

“I mean, I’d like to fulfill our god’s request as much as you but you heard the man. He might be old and cranky, but he’s not wrong. If this dungeon of yours is anywhere near the fallen human kingdoms, then there’d be a lot of Hunger to get through.”

Tarwantrad nodded.

“And I do not intend to.”

Almablom raised an eyebrow.

“But you don’t intend to quit?”

Tarwantrad shook her head and then made a small smile.

“The God of Flowers may not have considered our circumstances first and foremost, but you and I both agree that she very much wants this quest fulfilled. If that is the case, surely there must be a way within our grasp. I do not think she would give us directions as specific as she did if they were impossible for us to use.”

Almablom glanced around at the shelves.

“And you think the answer is here?”

Tarwantrad shrugged once more and narrowed her eyes as she opened up a scroll.

“Whether it is or not, I intend to leave no stone unturned. I will find the bees, if it is within my power to do so.”

And so, Tarwantrad began to review the ancient lore of her people, searching for a way to travel a path long and fraught with peril…

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