The Dungeon Traveler

by Alston Sleet

  Madness. Pure madness.

  The nobles of the capital had days in which to learn the truth of the dungeon, underlined, he was sure, by the messages from Saltfelt to the Merchants Coalition. This was added to having the same amount of time to consider the unclear logic of the king's behavior and the genuinely insane idea of inviting the Church of Vetta back into the kingdom. The nobles couldn't care less about which brand of inquisitor was let free to investigate. They felt free to mouth platitudes to different gods as they worshipped their own station and wealth. No, the free man, the merchant, the conscripted, and the servant, those were the ones who supported the [Rebel King] during his rebellion, and they were the ones who suffered under the Churches lash. This would cost the [Rebel King] what little support from the common man and adventurer he had left after his recent rebellion quelling.

  Arriving at the capital, Josedus had hoped for a period of cooling off for the king before he returned to the swamp that was kingdom politics, but the noble guards said the council was in session. The king always disliked it when the rats grouped up without his watchful eye over them. It was rumored that the king’s skill had extra abilities when close enough to potentially rebellious actions. Josedus wasn’t sure of the veracity of the rumors. It sounded too much like one of the [Spy Master’s] plots to him.

  Striding through the castle, the king marched directly to the meeting hall, neglecting the need for a bath or change of attire from the long trip. This too was a sign of his growing anger and recklessness. Josedus had studied many of the same texts and lessons on social warfare, and to forego the simple weapons of dress and presentation was a sign that even the merchant faction could ignore.

  The council was bickering loudly as the king entered the hall. Lord Elt Gardflow was leaning over the large wood table shouting nearly in Lord Mil Lakefellow’s face. Besides Mister Yow, a short, balding fellow who always had a smile no matter what the occasion, the Houses of Lakefellows and Gardflow were the only two powers of the kingdom that mattered on the council. The other noble houses had long been co-opted or coerced under these two powers through economic, political, and even marital ties. The king was fond of playing these two houses against each other, never letting one or the other reach for too much power. This left the king to deal mostly with the economic potential of the Merchant’s Coalition. The Coalition was a grouping of powerful merchants that was easy enough to control through straightforward financial dealings. Merchants, after all, were known for being after coin, not control.

  This had been the same game the [Tyrant King] had played, though he had used military might, blackmail, and kidnapping as well. The kingdom had slowly recovered from the tyrant’s purges, but this still left few houses to marry into the royal family. The lack of noble blood of unaligned houses left the king without his own offspring and heir. To marry any of the young maids of a noble house would align the royal line with that house, upsetting the entire political structure of the kingdom. So far, attempts to gain a bride from another realm had been a failure. Dark rumors spoke of a bastard girl child, but those rumors were consistently quashed, lending them far more credence than Josedus was comfortable with.

  Josedus was brought out of his ruminations of the teetering political balance by the king walking up behind Lord Mil Lakefellow and shoving him into his chair as he passed. The king was not as physically imposing as some, but the sheer audacity of someone shoving Lakefellow left him off balance, both literally and figuratively.

  “See here! I…your majesty,” began Lakefellow before he realized it was the king’s hands which had been so indelicate as to shove him in the council hall.

  A bit of delight entered Josedus upon seeing Lakefellow so humbled as to be insulted, yet having to accept the action. Even though he knew that the act had cost the king in the delicate social dance, he still enjoyed it, though he never let it show on his face. Josedus knew that he was only accepted into the council hall because of his prodigious magical capabilities, and because of his unwavering and long-standing support of the king. The nobles had made it very clear he was not one of them and never would be.

  “Your majesty, we are discussing the proper control of the dungeon. Its challenges and resources should best be served as a resource of the military. I’m sure you are aware of the benefit of achievements and the power they could bring to the kingdom’s fighting men,” said Lakefellow as he arranged himself in his seat.

  Josedus almost snickered. The fact that Lakefellow had the most substantial military force relative to his land’s size, and had the most control over the kingdom's armies, barring the king, of course, was purely coincidental. No, he was just thinking of the nation! These kinds of double plans, one for the kingdom and the other for the one implementing it, had long been a standard ploy since the start of the [Rebel King’s] rule. As long as the plan would, in fact, be for the good of the kingdom, the king would overlook the other factors, at least publicly.

  Gardflow slammed his large hand down on the table as he responded, “Nonsense! Hard training and resources could easily achieve the same effect. Many of my own soldiers have two and even three enhanced stat effects. The elite defenders of the kingdom should instead control the dungeon. We would be able to make the best use of it.”

  Another true but disingenuous argument. Yes, the house of Gardflow produced most of the elites of the kingdom, and yes they had two and even three enhanced stat based soldiers. But that was because they had a far smaller entourage, and so focused far more on producing quality over quantity. They focused on creating [Guardians], [Paladins], and [Weapon Masters], as well as being rumored to be the source of [Assassins] and [Spell Blades]. With the ability to force their elites through the dungeon using specialized magical or protective gear, they could quickly expand their military power and become the dominant house within the kingdom. While Lakefellow would be able to create a large number of enhanced soldiers, Gardflow, if not monitored, could produce an elite team that could destroy a rival house in a single night of blood.

  The king just sat in his chair fuming as he listened to the two men devolve again into a screaming argument, punctuated by comments from their subservient houses. Mister Yow just sat in his chair sipping wine, most likely an expensive import used as a prop to display his power, while the other two factions bickered. Being mostly concerned with profits Mister Yow's coalition would stand to benefit regardless of which house ultimately won the right to control the dungeon. He would no doubt love to manage it as Saltfelt had before, but the apparent anger of the king made it less of a reward. Either way, his coalition would profit from enhanced soldiers. Everyone would be buying new weapons and armor to match the improved skills and stats.

  Maybe Lakefellow sensed the king’s weakening restraint, or more likely he feared Gardflow gaining further support, but he was the first to make the suggestion of using The Guild to assess the dungeon.

  The king perked up. This must have been a difficult decision for the king. His skill must have triggered, even if lightly, at the suggestion of the kingdom wasting a resource like Dungeon of Challenge. On the other hand, the dungeon had rejected his control and flaunted its strength by setting down in the center of his power. Josedus watched as the king's face flickered through emotions, far more apparent than ever before. After a few seconds, he returned to his blank court face. The set of his lips, the tightness of his hands on his chair, it spoke to Josedus of the king’s conflicted anger. His skill had been the guiding force of his reign. To now side with a plan which bordered on rebellion would throw his delicate balance off further.

  Gardflow had noticed the king’s reaction to this plan as well. There was a reason the house of Gardflow trusted Elt as their council representative, even as the man was rumored to have distasteful preferences. When it came to the complex calculus of political warfare, few were as adept as Elt. His house had survived the violence of the [Tyrant King] as well as the [Rebel King’s] own manipulations, even as their faction was far smaller than t
heir rival’s. While Lakefellow’s plan was potentially to destroy the dungeon, it suggested they were far better at governance. Gardflow had a simple solution to such a gambit, though his face showed his distaste of it.

  Leaning back Elt nodded, “I agree, The Guild should assess the dungeon and destroy it. It is far too obviously a trap.”

  An odd moment of silence reached the council hall, as neither side’s minor houses would be willing to interrupt such a pause of the delicate political dance. It was rare, almost unheard of, for the rival houses to agree, but if it was to deny power to the other mutually, it could be achieved. Into this silence, Mister Yow set his glass of wine down with a gentle clinking of glassware.

  “As it so happens, the Merchant Coalition had in their employ a member of The Guild, purely acting as a storehouse guard I assure you. You know how the powerful can be, playing at guard work, but we were happy to employ him none the less,” Mister Yow began, taking a sip of his wine before returning it to the table.

  “It is our good luck that his guard station was near the gateway when it appeared, most fortunate, and he assessed the dungeon and found it free from corruption and that it was contained completely within its boundaries. I am happy to bring such good tidings to the kingdom. The kingdom received such an assessment at basically no cost, we of the Merchant Coalition are glad for this fortunate benefit and look forward to the profits we can derive from the correct usage of the dungeon.”

  Saying his piece, the smiling rotund man returned to sipping his wine while watching the tense noblemen.

  Josedus watched as the king frowned before standing, his chair shoved away from the council table with a squeal. Placing his fist on the table, the king shouted.

  “Enough. This dungeon is a danger to the kingdom. Plumb its depth, tear out its treasures, but the Church of Vetta has been tasked with seeing it destroyed. I will put [General] Rask in charge of the dungeon. He will allow you entrance as he sees fit, any further treachery and I will see the instigator hangs. Am I clear?”

  Without waiting for a response the king stormed from the council hall, shoving a slow servant out of his way. Josedus scrambled to follow after, his riding leathers and robes still trailing dust from the trip. The king entered his private quarters, a clear sign he wished not to be disturbed; a sign Josedus ignored as he followed.

  “My king, we need to speak,” Josedus began before the king kicked a resting stool in his sitting room.

  “Get out.”

  Pausing, Josedus considered before he continued, “My king, for the respect I hold for you, we need to talk.”

  Without turning the king proceeded to kick the chair which belonged with the stool, “I said get out!”

  Tightening his fists, Josedus looked away from his king before he continued in direct contradiction to his king’s wishes.

  “We must discuss this. I worry your current actions will tear this kingdom apart.”

  “I am the kingdom. If I have to execute every noble in the kingdom, so be it. I have stayed my hand time and time again, let small actions pass to maintain the people’s goodwill. It wasn’t until I took more permanent actions that I started to gain true control of my kingdom. It has taken ten years! Ten! I won’t be leveling more than I have, I won’t be extending my lifespan; further, my days are now numbered Josedus. How many more years must I suffer these fools before I actually control my own kingdom? No. No more. I will use the Church just as my uncle had. I detest the need, but it is a need. No one, not the nobles, not the church, not the dungeon, not even the gods will stop me.”

  Both men stood silent after the king’s outburst. Josedus tried to ignore the sound of madness in the king’s voice, the sounds of a man pushed beyond his morals in frustration and anger. The king ignored the silent rebuke from his greatest friend.

  Still turned away from his advisor, standing in the wreck of his room, the king raised his voice for his manservant, “Jendo, bring me a red, I wish to unwind.”

  Josedus moved to the closed door he had recently passed through, “Excuse me, my king, I am tired from the long trip and have need of some rest. Good night.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Into the Labyrinth

  I am less than amused by the state of my dungeon. Oh, people have died, and the new patterns are lovely. I’ve also gained a few skill memories. Also, let me tell you, the minds of some of these people are truly perverted. It’s almost like college again. While that should have me excited with how things are going, I am still being driven insane by my instincts. The scary old mage continues to show up and wander around, muttering while poking at my walls.

  He seems just to be interested in my dimensional magic, which would be fine, except he has finally found the entrance to my labyrinth. He hasn’t done anything with this knowledge. He even avoided it once he figured out the mana density increased in that direction, which says to me he isn’t trying to piss me off. Sadly, my instincts aren’t listening. I only really get any peace and silence from my instincts when he leaves or if I continue to place traps or monsters in my labyrinth.

  After the return of the king, my dungeon had a day of downtime. A few guards were stationed outside my entrance and turned everyone away. Everyone except the geriatric wall poker. He walked around the guards when they tried to stop him, and when I say ‘around’ I mean his body distorted like a pretzel and moved completely outside their reach before he continued on his way. The soldiers decided that they had done their job trying to stop him, and the [General] would have to deal with it.

  My current bottleneck on being a nosy jerk was that I could only have one viewpoint with [Far Seeing] active at a time. My skill growth in [Far Seeing] has also slowed down. I’ve been pushing the spell by trying to go faster, to zoom in, zoom out, shift from one location to another and back again as quickly as possible, and a whole host of other fun games like trying to ‘fly through’ tight spaces like the septic system. On a related note, pre-tech sewer systems are disgusting in a way not describable to a modern person. This kingdom has reached beyond the ‘throw it on the street’ level but seems to have stopped at ‘throw it in a tunnel and let it collect in a pond outside the town’ stage. I’ve noticed that some low-level magician casts a cleansing spell on this ‘pond’ every day for hours, but it’s still gross.

  My attention was snapped back to my gem since my favorite little monster was there, tapping on the frontmost facing facet. After I managed to pull my instincts back from throwing a monster at her, and I stopped myself from triggering my last ditch trap which she happened to be standing on, I managed to gather my wits to talk to her.

  “Why do you always tap on my gem? Is it because you want to stab me but can’t so you use the pommel of your dagger as a substitute?” I asked in as snide a mental tone as I could. That was not smart, especially since she actually has been such a help, but the tapping and her surprising me was getting old.

  Denda didn’t behave playfully as I had expected. With a final tap on my surface, she seemed preoccupied before she responded.

  “My plans are reaching the critical point now. I’ve instructed Coldona to not respond to your prayers until my plan is over. I’m going to need you to remember, everything is going to plan, and I’ve worked on this design with you as the central player. I’m doing everything I can to keep you alive Dale.”

  Oh. Shit.

  I do not like it when someone so much more powerful than I am feels the need to tell me that things are about to get dangerous and that she is ‘doing everything she can to keep me alive.’ It feels like the nurse saying it’s going to be 'just a little pinch,' and then it will be over. Hint: it’s never just a little pinch. You never feel it, or it hurts like hell. It’s never anything in between. Somehow I felt like this was the same.

  “I’ve got plans inside plans. But they all focus on you. After things are over I will be able to answer more of your questions. But for now, just stay safe, work to stay alive, and do what you need to do. Ok, Dale?”<
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  Before I could respond, Denda tapped me one more time with her dagger, almost perfunctorily, then faded away, this time without the Cheshire grin. I had initially thought Denda was a pain in the ass because of her creepy and playful behavior, but a concerned and straightfaced Denda was far more upsetting. While I had been focused on Denda, my dungeon was visited by my newest annoyance. Lady Stick-Up-Butt.

  I didn’t know what her real name was, but I was sticking with my moniker. She wasn’t a noble; she had visited the castle, but she didn’t stay there. She instead stayed at an inn of what I would say was medium quality. Nearly the only thing I could think about her that was nice was that she was cute. She had a sweet face with a girl next door look, and the ponytail was a nice touch. Everything else about her was a pain in my ass. She stormed through my dungeon, refusing to attempt any of the challenges, she even spent time cursing the challengers! When she had first entered the day before, she had vehemently sworn at my portrait of Coldona. She wasn’t quite at the point of slavering at the mouth, but if looks could kill, Coldona’s figure would have burst into flames.

  The only reason I was actually concerned is that she was avoided by the other contestants like she had the plague. If the sideway’s looks and disgusted sneers were anything to go by, she either had a horrific smell or was part of a hated faction. I was hoping for the first, but I was guessing the latter. Every time she got into some confrontation with another challenger or guard, I kept hoping she would meet an ‘accidental’ death. I had the same feeling for mister creepy dimensionalism dude.

  Speaking of creepy dimensionalism dude, he acted weirdly meek and frightened around Lady Stick-Up-Butt. I watched this mage turn someone inside out without even blinking, but around this girl he bows and scrapes and practically whimpers like a kicked dog. At first, I figured she must have been frightening beyond belief to get this guy scared, but seeing him smirk and roll his eyes after he walked away from her had me thinking otherwise. These two playing off each other now leaves me wondering which of the two is more dangerous and who I want to die sooner.