Tree Dungeon

by Andrew Karevik

  I have to admit that I wasn’t terribly excited with the overall design of the third level. I enjoyed the sensation of watching adventurers test their spirit so that they could gain treasures and power. I liked creating curious traps that had solutions to them. It was a fun game of cat and mouse, creating traps and watching adventurers figure out ways to circumvent what I had built. But this was different, obviously. It was meant to be straightforward, dangerous and brutal. The orcs entering were fully expecting to die, so that they may do their sacred duty and become my Einherjar. It was somewhat boring. But then again, this was a graver matter than simply protecting treasures. I was going to be creating something that would redefine the fate of an entire race. Perhaps that was the thing that should motivate me.

  Chapter 27

  The trading post was operational much faster than the third floor. The Merchant Queen spared no time in building the market square, erecting buildings and putting out advertisements in the major cities to let people know that her empire was now open for business.

  I was surprised to find that a few caravans would arrive every now and then, with many strangers looking to purchase goods from the trading post. I had been forced to create an alternative pathway, one free of traps and dangers, for those who wished simply to engage in trade with the goblin village. I was unsure if I liked the idea of non-adventurers wandering around with me, but Gariatha assured me that it would be more beneficial for the goblins if this post existed.

  “Trade,” she told me, “is the ultimate equalizer. Trade is what will help people see these goblins as friends and not foes. And trade provides the goblins the wealth to hire bodyguards and warriors to prevent anyone from treating them as foes.”

  There were ground rules that these strangers would have to follow, set by both myself and Ehdrid. No one was allowed entry into the village itself, nor would they be allowed to pass into the main hall leading into the dungeon. To enter the hall would be to declare oneself a participant in the dungeon, thus making them fair game for the monsters and traps within. On top of that, tribute must be paid to me by these strangers, when first entering my mouth. The tribute was more of a symbol of my authority, that they would recognize there was a great power who was in control. Those who did not pay tribute were not to be treated as guests, but enemies.

  Overall, the incorporation of the market was a smooth transition. Merchants and investors who arrived to do business were nervous about the location. That fear translated to very good behavior. No one caused trouble, everyone paid what was due. In fact, most of these merchants were resistant to even haggle too loudly, for fear of bringing the wrath of the Great Tree. This, of course, was a silly and unfounded fear, but Gariatha found no need to correct them.

  The village grew in prosperity, thanks to the new source of income. A few shopkeeps from outside had arrived and requested permission to build their own shops in the market square. They were unlike the other merchants I had seen. They had a savviness about them and seemed comfortable within the dungeon. While others were nervous, glancing everywhere in fear of something terrible leaping out at them, these shopkeeps barely seemed to care about the location.

  They traveled alone too, without warriors or bodyguards. I would learn later on that these shopkeepers were mostly retired adventurers who wanted to turn their excess of magic items into wealth. Unsatisfied with the prices they were getting from merchants who often paid very little for extremely valuable items, these adventurers decided they’d open their own businesses and sell to other adventurers. Why sell at a fraction of the value to a merchant when you could sell at a markup to a desperate adventurer needing the item to complete his quest?

  The decision to allow these few shopkeeps in was mine and mine alone. Ehdrid was less concerned, as he knew that permanent residents would be far less dangerous than strangers. After all, a resident was far more dependent on harmony in the dungeon than someone who was just here for the afternoon. The question was whether I wanted more outsiders living within me. But were they truly outsiders to me? I didn’t believe so, for they had been adventurers at one point. And I had nothing but the greatest respect for those brave men and women who would enter into dungeons of their own volition. If these people had managed to survive time and time again, living long enough to retire on their wealth and open a shop, then they had my blessing.

  Besides, there were many benefits to having adventurer focused shops within me. It would improve the chances of the adventurers who wanted to venture higher up the dungeon in the hopes of gaining more treasure. After all, if they encountered traps or puzzles they could not overcome, a quick run to the shops would provide them with everything they needed.

  I decreed that a tax would be taken from these shopkeepers. A tenth of all they earned would be given to the village. As long as they paid their taxes, they would be safe to operate within my walls. I would even give permission to a few of the more tenacious shopkeepers to open up shops on other floors. But there was a caveat. If they wished to open a shop on a floor of the actual dungeon, they would be required to clear it first. A single death would disqualify them, even if they resurrected. This would ensure they had a profound respect for what I was capable of.

  All of these details were rather cumbersome, however. I was not interested in administration, handling taxes or granting licenses. I set the rules just fine, but I would need to entrust these matters to someone else, someone who would be my representative on the matters of all economics within me. Gariatha was not the right person for this job, as her concerns were primarily matters of the orc tribes. I would have to select someone who was loyal to me and would live their entire life within my walls.

  Naturally, this meant a goblin would be the choice, but unfortunately, education in matters of paper and records was not available to this tribe. Most of them were skilled crafters and masons, farmers and healers, but none of them were lettered. Only a few could actually read. My options were limited there and the few goblins that Ehdrid interviewed did not seem thrilled at the prospect of becoming a bean counter.

  I considered the young human, Thomas, but decided against it. He was too frightful to deal with the shopkeepers directly, should a problem arise. The anxiety of asking for taxes to be paid on time might give him a fatal heart attack. It seemed that my pool of people to handle this task was quite limited. And I certainly could not bring an outsider, not to be entrusted with something like this.

  So, I decided that I would simply create my own economic manager. Using the same type of magic that I had used to create the Orblings, I began to fashion a being out of magic. This creature, known as the Arbiter, would serve as both judge and enforcer of contracts within the village and the marketplace. It would have full intelligence, be able to reason and think as any human could. But I gave it a strict code to live by, to always judge cases with fairness and unbiased opinion, to work for nonviolent solutions to quarrels and to ensure peace between all groups in the dungeon.

  I was proud of the design as well. The Arbiter had wings, with a lantern in his right hand, and a mace in his right. The lantern would emanate a powerful magical energy that made lying in its presence physically painful, and the mace would be used in extreme cases. It spoke all tongues, knew all dialects and even languages long dead. It would float above the market square, waiting for those to call upon it. The Arbiter would ensure that there was only order and economic prosperity for all who lived within me.

  With that matter settled, I continued to work on preparing my energy for the creation of the realm, New Orcsamar. Things were just about completed, but it would still take me a few months of arranging magic the right way. It would be winter when the new world would be ready. Ironic, in a way, for a season of death to become a season of rebirth for the orcs.

  Chapter 28

  One morning, while in concentration for preparing my magic, I overheard a curious conversation from a group of merchants who had just arrived to make a purchase of trade goods.
It caught my attention immediately, pulling me completely out of my meditation.

  “I’m telling you,” a young female gnome was shouting at her companion, “there was an eye watching me!”

  “Oh yes, a peeping Tom from across the stars,” her companion, a burly minotaur snickered.

  “It was trying to get me! I could see it pushing against the air.”

  “No such thing exists,” another companion, perhaps a wizard by the way he dressed, replied. “Dimensional creatures don’t have trouble moving between realms like that.”

  “Why are you always so quick to deny the possibility of a new monster?” the gnome asked. “There’s no way we’ve discovered everything.”

  “I did a divination when you said you saw it the first time,” the wizard said, tapping her on the head with his staff lightly. “And the divination didn’t detect a thing. Either you have dedicated yourself to a worthless prank, or you were dreaming.”

  “It wasn’t a dream,” she said. “I know what I saw.”

  Their conversation dropped off after that, as they had arrived at the market square and became enamored with the many goods for sale. But I was not about to let this go. This little gnome had met that strange entity that had been peeking from some other place. I had not seen that eye again, not after the first encounter. But now? Now I finally had more concrete proof. I abandoned all of my normal ways of communicating with strangers and contacted her mind directly. My curiosity about this strange being was too great.

  “Mortal,” I whispered to her mind, “I am the Great Tree that houses you.”

  The gnome stiffened at those words and began to look around. “For real?” she asked. “I thought they said you only talked to goblins.”

  “Time is short,” I chided her. “I have no time for such discussions. Tell me of this thing you saw, the eye pressing against the air.”

  “Oh that? Sure, sure,” the gnome replied. “We were on our way here, in the Feverwood, when I first saw it. There was a crack in the air, about the size of my head. I could see a blue eye and hear some kinda chittering sound. It wanted to get out of the crack, like it was trying to push through an egg.”

  The crack was growing. When I had seen it last, it was barely a sliver, but as the gnome described it, the size was increasing. And she could hear sound. How curious.

  “So, I tell Briin, that wizard over there, all about it. He conducts a spell of answering to find out what I saw, and the spell tells him I didn’t see a thing. But I’ve seen it twice! I think it’s a monster trying to eat me. Or maybe a cursed spirit that I somehow offended when I was rummaging through an artifact cache a few weeks ago.”

  “Where did you see it the second time?”

  “A few hours ago, I woke up to find that eye hovering above me. We were camped outside the temple of Agara because Briin’s too cheap to pay for room and board.”

  I shifted my own focus to the temple, gazing about in the hopes of catching something, but there was nothing. Nothing except for the priestesses of Agara, going about their daily rituals and practices. Had they seen something?

  “Gnome, you have been appointed my Investigator in this matter,” I told her.

  “I’m sorry, what? Also, my name is Zepher,” she said, shaking her head a little.

  “This matter of the eye has brought me great curiosity. Go to the temple of Agara and question the priestesses. Be thorough in your investigation and find out all you can. Speak not that you represent me.”

  “Look, uh, Giant Tree Guy, I don’t think I’m cut out to be your detective here.”

  “If you would kindly look at the building on your right,” I instructed. She turned her head and glanced at the large, ornately carved building that housed all of the treasures that were taken as tribute and taxes. “That is where all of my wealth is kept. Do as I say, and three wagons will carry whatever you desire from within that building.”

  “Can I uh…can I look inside, really quick?” she asked.

  I had come to learn that gnomes were the most curious of races and not knowing things bothered them greatly. I suppose that was something I had in common with their people. I allowed her to enter and see all the wealth she could gain. Indeed, the room was full of all the gold, items and gems that I had collected over the years. Her eyes grew wide at the sight and she began to mumble the prospects of what such wealth would accomplish in her life.

  She didn’t even take the time to agree to my terms. Zepher rushed to her companions, told them all what she really felt about them and then hastily made her way to the temple of Agara. It may have been a foolish decision, to trust a random gnome like this, but I must admit that my curiosity had burned greatly in regard to this strange occurrence.

  What was that strange eye? Was it a new entity, arriving from a dimension outside of this world? Was it a stranger like me? Did it have good designs for this world, or was it a harbinger of destruction? I wanted to know these answers. The last thing I wanted was to encounter some otherworldly being unprepared. Whatever this was, I would find out the truth. At least, I hoped.

  Zepher stayed at the temple for four days. For a while, I had grown worried that she simply left, slipping away when my focus was on other matters. But by the fourth day, she returned to the dungeon.

  “Hello?” she loudly shouted at my mouth, looking up at my enormous trunk.

  “You can speak in your mind,” I told her. “I can hear you anywhere you are.”

  “Oh. Right, well, I got some answers,” she said. The telepathy spell that was connecting us began to bring forth feelings and emotions from her. She was afraid. Very afraid. “Most of the ladies were unhelpful. Some took vows of silence and couldn’t be bothered to answer me with written words, and others wanted me to repent for all of my sins of unkindness and violence before talking to me. I had to take a weird sin bath to absolve myself in Agara’s eyes, whatever. Anyway, finally, I got a few of them to talk to me. Most of them were familiar with the concept of that strange eye. Apparently, while praying as a group in the center chapel, the eye appeared in front of them.

  “Now, these ladies are sensitive to magic, being priestesses and all, and they couldn’t sense a thing. Not divine, not arcane. Which meant it wasn’t a vision from Agara.”

  “What did they conclude?” I asked.

  Zepher sighed at that. “It gets worse. One of the girls decided to touch the crack, since it looked as if the creature inside was helpless, like a baby trying to get out of an egg. Well, the eye pulled back, let out a shriek and next thing they knew, the poor girl was pulled into the hole, tearing it open a little wider. All they heard was screaming and then nothing.”

  “A monster then,” I said. Curious.

  “Not any monster they’ve encountered. Normally, when an Agaran Priestess dies, they do a ritual to contact her in the afterlife and see where she ended up in the hierarchy, to determine whether to venerate her as a saint or not. But…they couldn’t’ contact her. The High Priestess even spoke to Agara one on one in a trance and uh…Agara thought the girl was still alive. Didn’t even register her as dead.”

  This did not bode well. For a creature to exist outside of the god’s knowledge? And Agara was a Great Goddess; there was no way that she would not know of such a being if it were natural. It must have come from another realm. Like me. But perhaps, it was less benevolent. Or less understanding.

  “What then have the priestesses decided to do about this?” I asked.

  “The High Priestess wouldn’t say. They were friendly enough to tell me this event simply because they were worried I might try to touch it when I saw it next. They haven’t seen the eye since the incident. But I… I didn’t get the impression that they knew what to do in this situation. I think they’re just hoping it goes away.”

  I was silent for a time, considering all that I had heard. It was alarming that such a presence was in the Feverwood. Were there more sightings elsewhere in the world? Or was it local
ized to only here? If that were the case, then perhaps this entity had found its way to this world because of my presence. After all, I was a stranger as well.

  “You have done well. But I must ask you to serve me for a time longer.”

  “Oh, no way! That eye ate that girl and she’s not even in her heaven! I’m not getting anywhere near that thing again.”

  “This entity, whatever it is, could be a problem for you mortals. Or perhaps it may be a problem for me. I must know if other sightings have happened. What would it take to get you to travel around Yehan and ask if others have seen such a thing?”

  The gnome grimaced at those words. “Look, I understand but…I’m really not the one to do this for you.”

  “The Priestesses of Agara are not known for being friendly to outsiders, yet you got them to speak,” I told her. “You have a skill in getting to the truth. I can sense it within you.”

  “Well, yeah, my job was to haggle and bargain for the trade caravan, but this is different. It could be dangerous.”

  “And if that creature has a memory? You said you have seen it twice, what if, when it emerges, it decides to look for you?” I asked. “Wouldn’t you want to know what it was?”

  “Ugh, I hadn’t thought of that,” she replied. She bit her lip and sighed. “Damn it. I’ll do it for all of the gold in that treasure house. All of it. Oh, and the gems too.”

  “For such a price, you are agreeing to serve me until I am satisfied,” I told her.

  “Wait, so you’re serious? You’ll give me all of that treasure?” she asked, apparently shocked at my nonchalance. Coins and gems meant nothing to me. But from the looks of it, such treasures meant more to her than maybe even her life.

  “I am. Serve me until I have learned all I wished to learn, and the storehouse is yours. All of it.”

  “And I want protection. Someone to keep me safe,” she replied.

  “I shall send a great member of this tribe, one who has served loyally from the day I spoke to him. He wields great magics and is able to overcome any danger with ease. His name is Immix. But I warn you, he is a trickster, by nature, he will insult and mock you.”