the fourth day in the dungeon, Polaris had decided what his Attestation would be.

It wasn’t unusual for young Coursers to have an idea in mind when they went Below; the elders often spoke of previous triumphs, and the apprentices’ imaginations would run wild with the thought of coming back Above with their prize and a tale of derring-do. The object they returned with would determine their path- the Council of Elders would meet to discuss the apprentice’s find, and decide how to further their training.

For some time, Polaris had wanted to be a Hunter. Their missions involved following some of the rumours heard Above, or finding those who were lost in, or to, the dungeon. He fancied the idea of following clues to some old relic or rescuing one of his Guild from the jaws of some cursed beast, and whatever he brought back for his Attestation would have to prove his capabilities.

He wasn’t far from the surface, he knew. The chest sat bathed in moonlight that filtered in from a hole in the ceiling, on a pedestal surrounded by the sun-bleached bones of dozens of Coursers that had come before. The pedestal glowed slightly, arcane energy radiating from it. Runes carved into the tapered, slowly-twisting stone foot seemed to change the longer he stared at it. Whatever was in that chest must be valuable – why else would so many others have tried and failed to retrieve it? It must be a puzzle of some sort. Now if only he could find a way to push the chest from the pedestal to the floor – the runes on the stone base were the source of the issue, he was sure of it.

He circled it slowly, hoping to find some inkling of how to approach without being…zapped, or whatever had befallen the skeletons that lay strewn around it. It would take some time.