What Kir had expected when entering the dungeon was something dank and gloomy. Even though he'd read otherwise, a part of him still expected grey stone walls and walking skeletons.
Instead, what he got on the first floor was-
"A field..." Someone behind Kir exclaimed.
Kir took his first breath. Something about the dungeon felt... invigorating. It was mana, he realized, suffusing the air in quantities that made the surface world feel like high altitude. Looking around, he saw they were on a generally flat plain. The sky was sunless and orange-red, as if it were late morning or early evening, but weirdly in every direction.
"Weapons out!" Lugh shouted, from the center of the formation. Kir complied along with everyone. There was still just a little rime on the blade from when Rain handled it. Its presence was comforting to him.