He clapped his hands and shouted out a spell meant to bring his items back, but I knew better than that. Many adventurers knew special incantations meant to retrieve their important pieces of equipment, and for the most part I had no problem with that. But on this floor? The spell would not work. There was a disruption field in the entire area, preventing any type of magical teleportation, this included gear retrieval.
Vincenzo tried to repeat the spell a few times, but nothing happened. This caused the wide, smug smile on his face to fade. He sighed and prepared to search by hand. He would walk down the long corridor for almost six hours before realizing that something was amiss.
“Are there no exits?” he shouted up at me. “You have not created an adequate level, but a prison to capture me. I am most offended.”
I said nothing.
“I could hear the sounds of twisting and contortions,” Vincenzo continued. “You built this place while I was here. You created this place solely for me. How is this fair?”
“I thought you could handle anything I threw at you,” I replied. “Is that not the case?”
“I meant it in the most generic of terms,” Vincenzo said. “I did not mean that I would be able to overcome a custom designed prison made by you.”
“Why not?”
Vincenzo wrinkled his nose. “Because you have had time to observe me. To learn of my weaknesses and strengths. By interfering with the dungeon, constructing a place to destroy me, you have essentially violated your own policies.”
This was a curious development. “How do you know what my policies are?”
“Some dungeons are ravenous, looking only to kill, so they use whatever tool at their disposal to eat. Others are designated to defend and use their full power only to protect certain areas. But you? You are a dungeon who seeks to test mettle and strength. You have enough power to interfere at any moment, do you not? But you don’t. Why? Because you wish people to be able to test their power against you.”
“Well said.”
“But you realize that I have won this contest? By forcing you to create an entirely new level, one designed to stop me, I made you admit what you had designed wasn’t effective enough. My mettle is more than enough.”
This gave me cause to laugh. “You are most strange if you think that you secured any kind of victory. You said you could handle whatever I threw at you; you mocked me and made it very clear that you would win this one. And now you have lost all of your gear and a great deal of power.”
“Yet you broke—”
I interrupted him. “The rules? There were no agreed upon rules. We did not make a deal. You ran your mouth and now you pay for your pride.”
Vincenzo was silent for a moment. “Are you open to bargaining?”
“Bargaining for what?”
“There are many items that I need. No doubt you have captured them already. I have seen your goblins collect the loot from the fallen within minutes of the body being abandoned.”
Was this really all it took? A single death for Vincenzo to give up? He was all bluster, it would seem. Or perhaps he hadn’t met his match before. I was not like the other dungeons he had faced.
“You wish for your items back? And what would you give me in return?”
“The whole reason you jailed me here was to prevent the map from being made. I see now that you are determined to hide your secrets, so much so that you’d rather detain my soul here. I tried to flee to the lower levels, but could not. I realize that if I do not obey you, you’d leave me here for the rest of my life. Give me my things and release me, I swear that the Guild will leave you alone.”
“But…I could just leave you here,” I replied. “And let you continue to try to escape over and over again. It would achieve the same effect as you swearing not to map me anymore.”
“I will not go down into the Dungeon Below,” Vincenzo said. “No way.”
“You are afraid?”
“Of course not!” Vincenzo shouted, puffing his chest out. “There are just some…things that I would like to avoid.”
“Such as?”
“The destruction of my soul for one,” Vincenzo said. “I fear not death, but…well, you don’t get to enjoy the afterlife if your soul gets eaten.”
“Perhaps there is a way I could help,” I said, my mind drifting to the gem that diverted his soul to this room. “I have many necromantic spells that could preserve your soul, enough so that should you die, you would be safe from being devoured.”
“Really?” Vincenzo asked. “Is such a thing possible? And better yet, is such a thing safe?”
“Safe and possible,” I replied. “But it would require a large amount of magic, something most mortals don’t have access to.”
“I see,” Vincenzo said, squinting and nodding. His irritation was beginning to vanish and I could see curiosity appear in its place. “Such a thing would be handy to have, especially when the Guild knows of quite a few carnivore dungeons out in the world. We are careful and slow to investigate such places, for fear of becoming lost forever. But if I had such a power…”
Of course, Vincenzo was ever the salesman, looking for a way to benefit his position in the guild.
“So you would be motivated to aid me should I give you an item that could preserve your soul?”
The cartographer bit on his lip. “I could be persuaded yes, but I would need to be absolutely sure such a thing would work. Part of me fears that this is some clever trick on your part to be rid of me for good.”
“I give you my word that I can construct such a charm,” I replied. My mind sorted through the many powerful magics that Urioc had once controlled. Most soul trapping was an evil practice, as a means of stealing a person away from their resting place and instead forcing them to power a magical item. I doubted Urioc had intended for such terrible spells to be used for self-defense. But it was theoretically possible.
All I needed was to create two items. The first would be a standard gem with the soul diversion spell attached to it. As soon as the bearer would die, they would be pulled into the gem itself. The second item would be a Soul Receiver Stone, which would be paired to the first gem. The moment the soul was pulled into the gem, the receiver spell would activate and instantly teleport Vincenzo’s spirit to the receiver’s location.
Urioc had originally designed these spells to create a Soul Well—a powerful item that would draw souls from those all over the world, as long as they fell victim to the traps he had built. But rather than use this well to harm Vincenzo, I could use it to keep him safe. In a strange way, it was reverse necromancy.
There were costs, however. There needed to be a Soul Well in order for the pairing to work between the two artifacts. Otherwise, there would be no way to draw the soul back out of the gems. And building a Soul Well required enough magic that eight people would have to be drained of all natural magic in order to create it. Fortunately, I was able to provide that level of magic in a different way, but in doing so I would be depleting my already low reserves. Still, I had little choice at this point. Sending Vincenzo in to investigate and find the Dungeon Below’s weakness was the only way to preserve magic in the long run. I just hoped that Vincenzo would have what it takes to survive down there. The fate of the whole world was hinging on him; he just didn’t know it.
Chapter 23
The construction of the Soul Well took little time. All that was necessary was for a black pit to be dug and lined up with charcoal, and then an infusion of life essence mixed with magic. I was able to provide all ingredients, and within an hour I had a green, glowing pit of wailing spirits.
These spirits, Ehdrid explained, were often the ghosts of mortals who were too obsessed with revenge to be able to move on to the next life. They drifted through the world, looking for strong sources of magic to feed off of. When the spirit would collect enough magic, it would manifest in the real world, either as a poltergeist, a phantasm or a wraith. The Soul Well
would function like a trap for these spirits, catching them as they passed through. The shaman agreed to visit the black pit from time to time, to exorcise the spirits and give them the peace necessary to move on to the afterlife.
Such an act, he told me, was the responsibility of shaman, but since the goblins lived in such a peaceful village, there were no spirits to banish. He would grow more in magical power by conducting these rituals, as he would be able to drain the spirit energy of these vengeful beings, weakening their ties to the mortal plane and releasing them. And indeed, after his first ritual of cleansing, I saw that he was looking much healthier and walked with less of a limp.
On the subject of Leosis, Ehdrid was pleased to report that a decision had been made. The shaman had been looking for Immix, to find the fool sitting out in a field, with twelve stones lined up in rows of three. He was loudly lecturing these stones, telling them stories and shouting at them to be quiet. Such a sight was a sign, Ehdrid believed, that a school should be built. But Leosis was only to teach twelve children at a time. This was an amenable agreement and, soon, the human found himself in the company of twelve howling little goblins who were quick to bite and throw rocks at him if he spoke with harshness or contempt.
I would have preferred to watch these classes, but could not afford such distractions. The artifacts were created and Vincenzo needed to be sent down into the belly of the beast. I showed him the creation of the Well and explained how the magic worked. Vincenzo displayed some hesitation at the prospect of going in without testing the magic, but was equally apprehensive to volunteer to die in order to test it.
So we did the next best thing. I left the amulet of Soul Return out in the open, for an adventurer to find. The chain was cursed to strangle the wearer. If everything went according to plan, the adventurer’s soul would be transferred to the Well, where I could then guide it to another place—namely the nearby resurrection shrine. It might not have been fair to test this out on some unsuspecting adventurer, but then again, just because you find a necklace on the ground doesn’t mean you get to keep it.
The experiment went perfectly and the adventurer, while surprised and confused at the strange process, was no worse for wear. Ehdrid, who was present to ensure nothing horrific happened, was quick to give the stranger a real magical artifact, a bag of gold and an escort back to his party, explaining away the sensation as being some kind of test of heart.
This was sufficient enough for Vincenzo to be satisfied and he placed the real amulet upon his neck. With gear in hand (along with all of the items he took from the shops, free of charge), he set out to explore a special entrance to the Dungeon Below, one I had created for this occasion. We would stay telepathically connected and at any moment, should he call upon me, I was to pull him out with my magic. I only hoped that the Dungeon Below would be unable to block me from casting such a spell.
I waited for some time, but Vincenzo only contacted me once to state that this Dungeon had amateur level traps and that he would run circles around it. I did not like such prideful talk, but knew better than to chatter needlessly with him. There was no reason to risk the Dungeon overhearing our conversation.
I tried to stay idle, in order to be ready at a moment’s notice, but alas, once again the world decided that my attentions would be better spent elsewhere. A blast of a horn alerted me and I realized that, in all my time of focusing internally and on the Dungeon Below, I had not been watching the outside world. If I had been, I would have noticed the three separate armies marching towards Oregmyer.
“Attention!” a herald riding at the front of the army approaching the north shouted. “The Alliance of Therus demands the gates be opened at once! We shall cleanse the undead monstrosities within and restore order in the name of the Leosian Monarchy!”
There were nearly a thousand soldiers altogether. And while they marched with many different flags, they all had one banner in common, to denote their alliance. Who made that Alliance of Therus? And why had they seen it fit to arrive and fight my Akr Army?
Once again, my interference with the world outside of my own was leading to some fairly serious consequences. This army would undoubtedly witness the political instability of Oregmyer, and find a sufficient reason to just capture the city and claim it for their own.
As the armies set up camp outside the walls, cutting down nearby trees to construct ladders, I felt a call from the queen. I shifted my consciousness over to the newly restored throne room to see her pacing back and forth frantically.
“Yes?” I asked, pretending as if I had not watched an army preparing to lay siege to the city.
“I fear that word of your undead army has gotten out,” the queen said, moving up to the balcony and glancing out the window. “And now an army of supposed do-gooders is here to save us.”
“Send a messenger and tell them that the army is under your control,” I replied.
“Oh yes, that would go over quite well with them, wouldn’t it? Admitting to being a terrible necromancer who uses abominations to control the population. They’d string me up in the town square.”
“So what is the solution to this problem?” I asked. Part of me wanted to simply retreat from this conversation and leave the queen to her fate. But I was responsible for these consequences to my own actions, pulling away would be unfair and cruel. Besides, I needed Oregmyer to stay stable so I could continue to get more adventurers in my stead.
“I don’t quite know. The Therus Alliance is composed of three towns that focus primarily on trade: Thevos, Rimzo and Usan. They are independent, but joined together for the purpose of defending themselves from larger armies. Since they have the coin, they can afford putting together sufficient fighting forces. They’ve been after Oregmyer to join this alliance for years upon years.”
“And you don’t wish to join?”
“Oregmyer is independent,” she replied. “We were founded on the principles of living away from the influence of gigantic states and nations. We run ourselves, we live free and we conduct business as we please. Joining an alliance would be just the same as being conquered by another state.”
“This army isn’t here just to help you out of the kindness of their hearts, are they?”
“You’re catching on,” Queen Abri said. “No. Once they dispatch the undead warriors, they’ll see how unstable the situation is and quickly assume control. Then they will either gut the city for its resources, or one of the controlling cities will claim ownership of it. Normally such an act would be seen as too egregious in the eyes of neighboring kingdoms and fiefdoms, but with the undead scourge here it will be considered an act of heroism.”
“I see.” My mind drifted to a possible solution, one that would benefit the both of us immensely.
“So you are positive these people are here to bring you great harm?” I asked.
“If they wished to aid us,” Queen Abri said, “Thevos would have sent their Scourge Breaker Paladins, trained in killing the undead. Ten of those men would have been enough to end your own army. Yet now we see a thousand warriors outside our gate, preparing siege weapons. This is no act of charity.”
“Then, in one hour, open all three of your gates,” I instructed. “I will handle the rest.”
“Be cautious, Great Tree,” the queen said. “I fear each time you have gotten involved, the stakes have increased greatly.”
She was correct, but this was going to be different. I was tired of constantly having to waste my magic cleaning up these messes, so why not turn the situation to my direct benefit? The warriors who were outside the city looked impressive, seasoned and skilled. No doubt many of them had fought in great battles and were prepared to engage in a life or death struggle here. So why not give them exactly what they were looking for?
I stretched out my energies to each gate and began to work on a great illusion spell. This spell would recreate the streets of Oregmyer, giving the appearance that everything was normal. The shops would be clos
ed, the buildings would be barricaded and, in the distance, there would be a large undead army. The sight of this would certainly encourage each division to make a charge towards the new threat. And in doing so, they would step across the dozens of teleportation stones that I was creating, sending each warrior to a random spot in my dungeon.
Regar’s advice had ultimately paid off in this regard. My old size had made the idea of an army quite intimidating, as I did not have enough space to sufficiently accommodate so many people. But now each dungeon level was so large that, as long as I scattered the men about in an even distribution, I could easily host all of them. They would find themselves trapped within my mazes and forced to survive against deadly threats each step of the way.
This would make an adequate defense for Oregmyer. First off, the men would be scattered completely, making it impossible for them to cooperate together as a cohesive unit. Second, even if they were able to navigate through the dungeon without dying, they’d still only be a single group who escaped. My levels were large enough to get lost in for years, especially if they had no sense of where the exit was.
I would, of course, have ways for them to leave. Those who simply wanted to go back home would come across a few teleportation shrines that would send them back to their homeland—provided they swore not to return to Oregmyer as a warrior. I suspected that many of the seasoned fighters would refuse, but the greenhorns and the conscripts? They would certainly take the opportunity to get out of the dungeon alive.
I was pleased with my plan to protect the city. The expenditure of magic to create this trap was negligible, but the prospect of gaining the raw essence of an entire army was exciting. My magic reserves would grow significantly larger and I would be able to continue working on the fourth level. I just hoped that no one would be able to notice the illusions that were covering up the teleportation stones in the streets.
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