Therium crystals, exposed to tainted Underlands mana, form Dungeon Cores. A remnant from when the Great Calamity befell Orus Malcos, bringing the Shadow into the world. Therium, when exposed to the shadow, undergoes an evolution of sorts. First, it changes from its standard blue or purple coloring into a darker, duller hue. Often it either looks black or a cloudy gray. This is when Therium becomes “tainted”, no longer storing or filtering raw mana as it does in its natural state. Rather, it now pulls on the life essence that creates mana in the first place, twisting and storing it as “shadow essence”. It is the concentration of shadow essence that creates the entities that are commonly known as Dungeon Cores.

  

  The rest was speculation on the nature of Dungeon Cores and the conditions needed to form them. Nothing helpful to his situation, nor was there any mention of soulstones.

  “May need a mage for that.” Vash said, closing the book and putting it back into a pouch. “Can’t worry about that now. At this moment, I need to find a way out of here. So let’s see if the visions were true.”

  Leaving the little temple was an odd feeling. When Vash had first stumbled upon it in a haze of pain and exhaustion, the building felt as if it had a presence, its own energy.

  Now, as he left, it felt hollow and dark. It no longer pulled at him like it did before. Just a collection of stones in an out of the way part of the Underlands.

  “Like something left.” Vash said, turning back one last time before leaving the small cave. He paused, considering the temple, now swallowed in shadows and mist. “Or something escaped.”

  He shuddered at that implication.

  Following the tunnel back the way he had come, Vash noticed that the way did not seem as dark as it had before. The tunnels were still black as night, but Vash thought he could make out the shape of the surrounding rock. He walked slowly, carefully, trailing the fingertips of his right hand along the tunnel wall, and listening for the sounds of Scaleback hunters.

  Somehow, he knew he was alone in the tunnel. There were no Scalebacks nearby, though he could feel a strange pull when he thought about them. The pull was in the direction that he knew the Scaleback camp to be in. Vash stopped walking. The pull came from the direction he expected the Scalebacks to be in. He tried focusing on something else. The pull shifted as Vash thought of the mushroom men. The way suddenly became clear in his mind, like a map in his head. It was almost as though someone had drawn an invisible line on the floor and so long as Vash concentrated on the mushroom men, then he could feel that line beneath his feet.

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  Vash thought about the way back to the river. The line shifted, presenting a forked path in his mind. One line went back to the cavern with the Scalebacks, the other followed a series of tunnels and would lead him further north, closer to the falls. When his mind drifted to the falls, Vash felt the line extend itself even further. The map in his head rapidly filled in the full trek. Instantly he knew he was roughly a day and a half from the falls. Focusing on the falls themselves and he could see them in his mind, a cascade of water tumbling several hundred feet from an opening far above. Vash could almost see the faint sunlight illuminating the wide lake that formed at the base of the falls before flowing off into the darkness.

  He blinked and shook his head, coming back to himself. The connection he seemed to have with the Underlands was disconcerting, but useful. Vash set out, determined to make the best use of his new ability.

  Vash walked for several hours in the deep darkness, following the map in his mind. The tunnels ran through the rock like a madman’s labyrinth. At each turn, Vash trusted his intuition and followed the path that his connection to the Underlands wanted him to follow. Flashes of insight told him that the other paths lead off into the deeper levels of the Underlands or lairs of creatures far more dangerous and powerful than a few Scaleback hunters.

  Around mid-day, as far as Vash could tell in this place of eternal darkness, he finally emerged from the tunnels into a river cavern. This cavern felt like the Underlands version of a forest. Huge mushrooms, fifteen to twenty feet tall, rose like trees all around him. The ground was a mix of a soft, gray-white moss, which also ran up the ‘trunks’ of the mushroom trees and hung like ragged curtains from the tops, and pale green grass that grew to about knee-height, swaying gently even though there was no breeze.

  Glowmoss grew thicker here, coating the huge pillars of rock that hung down from the ceiling, giving everything a brighter feel. Not daylight, but something akin to the light of the greater moon when it was full. Though the mushroom-trees cast long, dark shadows, several luminescent flowers and plants grew in clusters around them.

  Everything felt strange and otherworldly, but for Vash, it was far better than creeping through the pitch-black tunnels. “At least I know that my new…Talent, I guess, works.”

  Vash headed towards the river. His water bottle, damaged in the fight with the Scaleback hunter, was empty. After walking more than half a day, Vash was incredibly thirsty.

  The sound of rushing water nearby only intensified the dry feeling in his mouth.

  He weaved in-between the mushroom-trees, following the sound of water and the pull of his…what should he call it? Vash didn’t have a clue what either the Eth Mitaan or the Wayfarers would call his newfound ability.

  “Following my.” Vash said, trying out the new name. “I like that. I should make a note of it.”

  Vash emerged from the mushroom-tree forest and found himself on the bank of the river. A wave of relief flowed over him and he kneeled in the black sand to scoop up handfuls of cold, clear water. He drank greedily until he felt like his insides were sloshing about. Then Vash sat down on a nearby rock to rest for a few moments.

  While he sat, he took out his , flipped to a blank page and then hunted for a nub of charcoal in his pouch, hoping to write down his thoughts on his new Dungeon Sense ability. His pouches were devoid of writing implements, however, so Vash turned back to close the book, only to see writing in the same neat hand that wrote notes in the margins.

  

Dungeon Sense (passive ability)

  Rank: Iron 1

  Mana Cost: 1-3 motes per hour

  Range: Underlands, any structure that is encompassed by the Therial network of a Dungeon Core

  Description: Ability which stems from the accidental absorption of a soulstone into a living body. This ability allows the user to tap into the crystalline network of Therium, which forms the base of soulstones, heartstones, and Dungeon Cores. The user’s connection allows them to ‘map’ a dungeon in their mind, as well as keep track of any living creatures or mana-based constructs also connected to the Therial network.

  Note: Dungeon Cores will actively attempt to obfuscate their network. More training and strengthening of this ability will be necessary to have any effect on more developed and powerful Cores.

  

  “I thought Corwin said these things weren’t enchanted.” Vash said, frowning down at the book. The annotations and definitions were certainly helpful, but he didn’t like how well the book seemed to know him. Between the annotations and the new senses from his brush with the soulstone, Vash was feeling like he was being constantly watched. It was unnerving.

  A thought occurred to him, though. “If I can track living creatures through the Underlands, I wonder if I can sense Jabez and Corwin?”

  Ever since the glow of their lantern had faded into the distance, Vash had felt very alone. It would be good to know that the others were at least on their way to the falls. Putting away the Gideon’s Guide, Vash placed his marked hand against the ground. He didn’t know if contact increased the power of the ability, but he didn’t think it would hurt.

  His fingertips sank into the soft, black sand. Vash closed his eyes and fixed Jabez and Corwin in his mind. He tried to recall what it felt like when they used mana for their Talents, much the same way he would if he were using on them. Vash’s mind moved sluggishly through the caverns, like he was pushing against mud or into a strong wind. Gritting his teeth, Vash tried to form a link between his and his Core, then released a trickle of mana through the link.

  Vash gasped involuntarily as his tiny trickle of mana flowed through a dozen new channels in his body, forming links and pathways that he hadn’t expected. The resistance to his evaporated and Vash’s mind flew through the Underlands at dizzying speed. He saw dozens of strange, terrible, and wondrous things flash past with no time to process them. Finally, an image appeared in his mind’s eye: Corwin and Jabez laboring up a rocky outcropping a few hours north of where Vash sat on the opposite side of the river.

  Jabez was having difficulty with the climb from his injured shoulder. Corwin would haul his dwarf master up after him every time he made it to a new ledge. The dwarf was grousing and grumbling as they repeated the action over and over.

  “This is hard enough without you complaining every time.” Corwin said, voice light, but Vash could tell he was getting irritated.

  Jabez grunted, scowling as Corwin reached down to give him his hand. “It’s undignified. If we had a healing potion, then these little rock ledges would be as easy to climb as a step-ladder.”

  “It could be worse.”

  “How?”

  “I could have to carry you thrown over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes.” Corwin grinned.

  Jabez made a disgusted sound, but Vash could tell that the dwarf thought it was a little funny. They seemed to be doing well and in good spirits. That was a relief, at least. They hadn’t run into the sort of trouble that Vash had…

  A twinge in Vash’s made him shift his awareness slightly downriver from where Jabez and Corwin were struggling up another section of rock. It took him a minute or two to find what his was trying to tell him. Several large, dark shapes emerged from the river. Dripping with water, they unslung their spears and sniffed the air. Soon, there were a dozen of the creatures gathered on the riverbank. They were all bulls. Large, thick-scaled, and foul-tempered. One of them made a strange sound, like a bark and a cough together. The other Scalebacks turned, and the one that had spoken pointed to a bobbing light in the distance.

  Their lantern. Vash thought.

  With a chorus of low growls, the Scalebacks moved towards the light and their unsuspecting prey.