The Crafter's Dungeon: A Dungeon Core Novel (Dungeon Crafting Book 1)

by Jonathan Brooks

  Whether or not he lived long enough for it to fully heal, however, was another question entirely. He had no provisions, no weapons (not that he knew how to use one), and very thin clothing that was suitable for working in his smithy. From prior experience, he knew that the wasteland got really cold at night; when he traveled before, his traitorous “family” had at least provided warm clothing for him to survive longer, but now he didn’t even have that. He had his leather apron, of course, but it was a poor alternative for a warm blanket or coat.

  Fortunately, if anything could be considered fortunate in his circumstances, Kelerim had eaten a hearty meal before he had been chased out of the village, so his priority wasn’t finding his next meal – it was finding some sort of shelter to hole up in and survive the coming cold night. If he could find a place that he could somehow insulate against the freezing temperatures, he might be able to live long enough to worry about food…and water…and plans for the future.

  Luckily, the barren landscape was rife with hills and valleys, including a few places where tiny mountains protruded out from the earth like goosebumps dotting the wasteland’s

  skin. Kelerim vaguely remembered finding a few caves on his week-and-a-half-long journey when he was 8 years old, but it felt like so long ago that he couldn’t remember exactly where they were – or even what they looked like. Besides, I think that was at least 10 or 15 miles north from here, possibly farther.

  No one really knew how big the wasteland was, but from what he heard after he was found, he had gotten lucky and passed through one of the narrowest parts. With the village he had spent the last year in right on the border, that meant that…well…honestly, he didn’t know exactly what that meant. Other than that he was screwed if he didn’t get out of the wasteland as soon as he could.

  He spent the next three hours just walking, searching for some sort of place he could either burrow into or wedge himself, if not a full-on cave where he could hole up. While he wasn’t sure how long it had been since there were live trees in those parts, the dried-out remains of what used to grow there were scattered everywhere, which meant that he at least had access to wood. As for a way to ignite the dried wood, Kelerim luckily had access to – and could manipulate – Fire elemental energy within him.

  Everyone had at least a small amount of elemental energy that they could manipulate within the small “storage place” inside of them. Most called this internal storage place a “Well”, where they could tap into and use the element that they had an affinity with. He didn’t learn much about it when he lived with his Dwarven family, and his exposure to it while he lived – was living – with the Orcs was limited, but he knew enough about it that he could spark a fire.

  The issue with Orcish society was that they preferred martial prowess over anything they thought cowardly – for instance, ranged weapons. Utilizing something that was largely intangible like elemental energy fell into that category as well, though that didn’t mean they didn’t use it at all. On the contrary, they used their energy to enhance their ability to fight with weapons, instead of using them externally in ways like Kelerim had heard other races would do.

  For instance, an Orc with Earth elemental energy could strengthen their skin in a way to make it more durable or add it to their muscles so that they could hit harder. Someone from another race might be able to manipulate the ground underneath the enemy and shoot earthen spikes up from below to impale them or form a small stone and launch it at their target. This was, of course, and extreme example, but it demonstrated the Orcs’ preferred method of fighting. Despite how he felt about Orcs in general, Kelerim privately admitted that they were good at it.

  They didn’t like to extend that knowledge to outsiders or half-bloods, however, so he was forced to learn about it by himself. He wasn’t prepared to use the Fire energy on his body to enhance it in any way and risk burning himself alive – though he knew it could be done safely…somehow – so instead he concentrated on learning how to utilize the small spark of elemental power he possessed on applications outside of his precious self. The most he could accomplish even after years of experimentation was to provide a very small flame, almost a spark, that could be used to light flammable material. He used it every morning inside his forge to light it for the workday, but lately he hadn’t had the time to devote to improving it. Regardless, he at least had a way to light a fire; now all he needed was a shelter and place to hole up for the night.

  The sun was starting to touch the horizon when he literally stumbled into a small cave located in the side of one of the tiny mountains. Kelerim called them tiny, but it was only relative to the massive mountains he had spent the first half of his life in, so anything compared to them was considered small to his view.

  After cautiously inspecting it for any sort of creature that might be calling it home, he went to gather some of the dry and brittle wood around the area to start a fire. He hadn’t actually seen any type of creature or beast on his trek to his shelter, but he did catch glimpses of small figures moving at the edge of his vision multiple times. Every time he looked at where he swore he saw something, there was nothing there; he knew that the relative safety of walking through the wasteland during the day didn’t necessarily apply to the nighttime, however, so he hurried back to his cave as soon as he had collected a half-dozen armfuls of wood. He didn’t want to run out before morning, so he may have overdone it…a little.

  The cave itself wasn’t very large – only about 10 feet deep and high and half that wide – but it had a sloped roof that led outward, which was good because he had a feeling his wood was going to create a lot of smoke and he didn’t want to suffocate in the middle of the night. He didn’t have time to insulate the cave from the slowly creeping cold of the evening, but once he got the fire going in front of the entrance – to also hopefully block any curious beasts looking to make of him a snack – it ended up doing a great job of keeping his little space fairly warm.

  Kelerim woke up multiple times during the night when the temperature started to drop, only to find that his fire was in danger of burning out. Adding his extra supply of wood helped to keep it going, but he slept unsettled for the rest of the night until morning. Nothing bothered him, and he didn’t hear anything outside his cave all night – not that he was awake enough to listen.

  He briefly thought about trying to stay awake the night before to ensure his safety, but after the already exhausting workday, followed by the “fight”, being chased out of the village, and his long journey to find shelter, Kelerim could barely keep his eyes open. Luckily, he didn’t freeze to death or get eaten by the wasteland’s denizens of the night, though when he woke up, he was very stiff and sore along his side.

  Once he walked outside to the early dawn light, he finally had the chance to think about the future. His first priority was to satisfy his belly, as it was starting to growl in hunger. Of course, he didn’t have any idea where to find something to eat out in the wasteland; it was pretty obvious by the name of the place alone that there wasn’t likely to be much in the way of food anywhere near. From what he understood of the local Orcish warbands, they ventured into the wasteland for brief periods to hunt what they called Bearlings – which lived along the border of the wasteland nearest the forest located in Orcrim – but even if he had a weapon, he didn’t think he would be very effective against them.

  They also mentioned some small lizard-like creatures that were a nuisance, but he didn’t have any idea where to find them – and again, he didn’t have a weapon. Nonetheless, he needed to eat soon if he was going to survive long enough to go…somewhere.

  As he started to pick up jagged pieces of stone and some sturdier branches that didn’t look like they would crumble to dust when he touched them, he thought about what he wanted to do after he was able to find something to eat. Really, that was the determining factor on whether he wanted to try heading to another land entirely, or risk hiding out in Orcrim where he would at least be able to find something
to eat. Both prospects didn’t sound great, but neither did living out the rest of his days in the wasteland.

  He immediately dismissed the Dwarves, as he didn’t believe he would be well-received, and his family’s betrayal had left a bad taste in his mouth when it came to the whole race. The Elves to the south were another prospect, but from the little bit known about them in Orcish society, they were even more distrustful of outsiders than even the Dwarves. Without any other viable options, he decided that – if he did, indeed, seek out another land – he would need to head in a southeastern direction toward the Gnomes.

  With an eventual destination set – hopefully – Kelerim finished up his makeshift spear. He started by using the sharp edges of a stone to cut off the ties to his leather Blacksmith’s apron; with those, he was able to wedge another stone into one of his sturdier pieces of wood and secure it with the ties. It was crude even by his own low standards of crafting, but it would hopefully work well enough – even if he had no idea how to use it.

  He had some leather ties leftover, so he also made a small hatchet using the same materials, which might be useful if his spear broke, which, in all honesty, was bound to happen quickly if he was forced to use it for more than a single strike – or against something that had thick skin. Either way, he was now as armed as he was going to get, but he still had to find something to kill so that he could eat.

  * * *

  The sun was at its peak in the sky when Kelerim started to despair on ever finding anything to eat. Not only that, but he couldn’t find any water in that desolate place, as everything seemed to have dried up – like his hopes of having some sort of dinner for later that night. With the lack of hydration and the heat from the day scorching his skin, he started to stumble around aimlessly; he had traveled so far from the cave that he had stayed in the night before that he didn’t think he had a hope of finding it again even if he was in the right mind to.

  Added to that, his sense of direction was failing him as hunger, pain, and thirst battled within his body for attention. In short, he was lost, hopeless, and highly disoriented; which was why he didn’t notice right away the group of massive Bearlings emerging from a cave along a mountain to his left. By the time he saw them, a few short of a dozen of them were staring him down from outside their cave entrance.

  Kelerim froze after he turned toward them, immediately knowing what they were from the descriptions he’d overheard from some of the warband members. The imminent danger of now more than a dozen scary beasts – some were even still emerging from a cave behind them – looking menacingly in his direction cleared the fog he had been traveling under in a flash. He thought that there was nothing like a life-or-death situation to snap you out of a stupor.

  Since he was already facing them, he started to slowly back up, trying not to appear threatening as he put a little distance between him and the Bearlings. He even placed his makeshift spear on the ground as a show of good faith – even though he was positive that they wouldn’t understand the gesture, but he did it anyway. It wasn’t like it would do much good against them, anyway, because it was said that their fur was like hard leather armor around their bodies. Besides, he still had his hatchet on the side of his belt – so he was all good.

  The Bearlings thankfully didn’t move as he put nearly 300 feet in between them over the next five minutes, still backing up as slowly as he possibly could. He didn’t know what else to do, but his method of retreat seemed to be working – and he wasn’t going to stop until he was miles away if he could help it.

  Even though he was walking slowly, the weakness in his body from the lack of recent nourishment caused his back leg to buckle as he stepped on a rocky protrusion, sending him crashing to his injured side in an ungraceful heap. A cry of pain involuntarily left his lips as the ground hit his still painfully bruised torso, and that’s when things went sideways.

  The roar that erupted from the throats of the Bearlings was so loud that Kelerim immediately turned toward the noise, expecting the massive beasts to be on him already. He was momentarily surprised to see that they were still at the cave entrance. As soon as their deafening roar ended, however, they charged toward him in a giant wave of deadly claws, sharp teeth, and stiff brown and black fur.

  He immediately got up and started running, heading for another tiny mountain he could see in the distance. Maybe I can climb up there and they won’t be able to get to me! Or, maybe there is a really narrow cave that I can squeeze into and wait until they go away. He knew that neither of these were likely, but he didn’t have any other choice but to try.

  Something small flashed by the corner of Kelerim’s vision, a small animal he thought, though for some reason it shone in the sun as if it were metallic. He could vaguely see it rushing ahead of him, dipping down and over a few small hills and valleys so quickly that he couldn’t get a good proper look at it; however, when he was able to focus on it for more than a second as he navigated his own way through the barren terrain, he thought it looked like some sort of dog. Or maybe even a wolf.

  Either way, it appeared to be running from the Bearlings as well, and if it knew of some sort of safe haven, he was all for following it. He might regret it if it was indeed a wolf that turned on him, or it led him into an entire den of wolves, but he was willing to take that chance over the certain death that was inexorably getting closer and closer behind him.

  He could practically feel the breath of the massive beasts chasing him by the time he arrived at the other tiny mountain, and he watched the blur that was the metallic dog/wolf shoot into a hole along the side. Unfortunately, it still looked big enough to fit the Bearlings, but as Kelerim didn’t have any other choice, he followed the mystery animal inside…and promptly couldn’t see as it was nearly pitch-dark inside compared the light of the noonday sun.

  He kept running, however, because he didn’t want to stop now – and proceeded to bump his head into something unseen, sending him to the ground, unconscious.

  Chapter 23

  Over the last month, Sandra kept expanding her dungeon, upgrading her Core, and crafting countless items in her forge. She slowly perfected – as much as she could perfect it with her current selection of constructs – crafting knives, daggers, short swords, hatchets, single-bladed axes, double-bladed axes, sickles, maces, spear points, throwing knives, throwing axes, and even arrowheads. On the whole, however, they were all made scaled-down because of both the size of her current forge and her Small Armored Sentinel.

  As she practiced making each type of weapon, the process got easier and easier as she gained the experience that only making hundreds of the same product over and over again could bring. As she transitioned from knives to daggers to swords, she could apply that experience so that her first attempts were nowhere near the crude piece of junk her first knife had ended up being. In fact, while she looked back at that initial crafting success with pride at what she had accomplished, she was also embarrassed by how ridiculous it looked compared to what she could craft now.

  Even when she created completely different types of weapons, that same experience carried over; she just applied the knowledge she had in her mind with the near-unending practice she had completed over the last two months. She was running out of what she could think of to craft miniaturized weapon-wise, though, so she was thinking about either making her Dragon Glass forge larger or switching up completely and trying her hand on something similar but different at the same time. In short – armor.

  However, Sandra had just upgraded to Core Size 15 – after 7 stages and nearly 36,000 Mana – and she finally received a new Dungeon Monster that she thought could replace her current beloved Sentinel for crafting. When she got enough time to practice enough with it, at least.

  Core Selection Menu

  Dungeon Classification:

  Constructs

  Core Size:

  15

  Available Mana:

  425/6409

  Ambient Mana Absorption:

 
6.4/hour

  Available Raw Material (RM):

  11200/20066

  Convert Raw Material to Mana?

  11200 RM -- > 448 Mana

  Current Dungeon Monsters:

  295

  Constructs Creation Options:

  14

  Monster Seed Schematics:

  52 (4)

  Current Traps:

  11

  Trap Construction Options:

  All

  Core-specific Skills:

  3

  Constructs Creation Options

  Name:

  Mana Cost:

  ----------

  ------

  Mechanical Jaguar

  800

  Mechanical Wolf

  1000

  Basher Totem

  2000

  Automated Digger

  2500

  Repair Drone

  4000

  Ironclad Ape

  6000

  Monster Seed Origination

  Name:

  Raw Material Cost:

  Mana Cost:

  Min. Mana:

  Max. Mana:

  Tiny Dragon Glass Flake

  20000

  7000

  5000

  10000