CHAPTER 25
Under my guidance, Shadow, Gary, and the ravens conquered puzzle room after puzzle room, deftly solving tile puzzles, riddle doors, and various other conundrums that I didn’t find too taxing. Traps were few and far between, and cautious scouting by Shadow and Edgar helped them avoid most poorly-placed spike pits, pitfalls, and bear traps.
“No creatures,” said Gary. “Nothing to fight, except the narkleer. Strange.”
“With a hibernating core and no way to the surface, the only things that would survive down here are monsters who don’t need to eat, or don’t need to eat often.”
“The undead.”
“Exactly. Zombies, skeletons, wraiths, ghouls, wights, accountants. The underworld’s rich tapestry of dead things. Even so, there aren’t any down here. The lack of anything like that tells us a couple of things,” I said.
I paused for dramatic effect, but nobody asked me what I meant. So, I carried on.
“For one, if I was going into hibernation, I would populate my lair with so many skeletons it’d be like a necromancer’s birthday party. The lack of them means that this core didn’t know he was going into hibernation.”
“Makes sense,” said Shadow.
“Secondly,” I said, “If his décor didn’t date this core enough, then a lack of monsters might do so. There was a period of coredom history where many cores felt the use of monsters was uncouth. That as cores, we shouldn’t stoop to using brawn to defeat heroes, and instead use our minds.”
“You’re an egotistical bunch,” said Shadow.
“A fair point. But it tells us that we’re dealing with a core all too charmed by his own intellect.”
“Aren’t you all?”
“A fair point.”
They pushed on through the dungeon, guided by my - if I can be so modest - genius. They navigated a variety of puzzles; doors of truth, weighing scales of pain. Nothing special, just standard dungeon puzzles that any well-studied core knew how to make and thus, knew how to solve. Easy.
Finally, they reached the inner sanctum of the dungeon, emerging into what could only be a chamber dear to any core’s heart - the core room.
Dim lighting from scant mana lamps aside, this wouldn’t have looked out of place in a king’s palace. A cavernous chamber with walls boasting exquisite carvings of all kinds of diabolical demons and monsters. The ceiling was way overhead, tall enough to stack ten Garys on top of each other and still not reach the tip. Marble Stalactites hung from it, jagged clumps of mineral that could tear through a skull if they fell on a hero crossing underneath at the wrong time. It was a chamber to inspire awe and dread, two feelings coveted by even the most modest of cores.
And there, floating in the center atop a pedestal of polished steel, was the core. Triangular in shape, its gem surface glinting with the illumination that reached its angles and surfaces. The core itself was dull in color, rat fur grey. The color of a core in deep hibernation.
“Careful,” I said. “This place will be trapped to the gills. Gary, stay where you are. Shadow, use the dust.”
The murals and carvings weren’t the most fascinating thing here. Not even the core, ancient and sleeping, was the most special thing about this chamber.
No. I couldn’t believe it as I looked around.
“Blaudy stone,” I said.
The core chamber walls were made of blaudy stone. There was no denying it; the very walls themselves were pure, unrefined blaudy stone, enough of it to fund an entire kingdom.
The possibilities of owning such a bounty raced through my mind, but I fought hard to push them back. I had to focus. Just one mistake in here…
As Shadow carefully walked through the cavern and spread illusion dust, the core on the pedestal began to glow. A glimmer of light at first, taking form at its base, before spreading all over it as the core stirred back to consciousness.
“Brace yourselves,” I said.
Shadow completed a patrol, uncovering no traps, puzzles, or anything of the like.
“Who enters my chamber?” croaked a voice, the sound not unlike a man stirring from slumber after a night of revelry.
Luckily, I had already rehearsed what I would say to the core, using what I hoped would become something of a catchphrase.
“I am the Dark Lord, the Marvelous Malignity, the Devious Devil, the Saint of Sin. It’s only fair that you know my name before you die.”
“What? Death and thunder, a raven dares address me? I am Core Jerosalat. You will tremble before me. Kainhelm! I summon thee!”
“Destroy him now, my friends, before the narkleer gets here,” I said. “Gary? The pendants, if you please.”
Now, the pendants were the key to this. The weapons and spells that can destroy a core are but few. Artificed swords, mana-drenched axes. Magic wielded by master mages, that sort of thing.
But there is one form of spell that we are weakest to.
The pendants, wrapped around Gary’s leech leg, had once been filled with full moonlight.
Now, they were filled with holy light, this achieved by having Maginhart leave them in the missionaries’ church on the surface. After resting in the church for the last few days, the stone pendants had absorbed the aura of the church, the sermons of the pastor, the belief and worship of its patrons, storing it as holy light in the blaudy stone.
One blaudy stone of unholy light would hurt the core. Another would damage it almost irrevocably. Three of them would surely finish the job.
But unholy light isn’t just harmful to cores; it will damage any creature bred for dungeon life. It’s a reason that a cleric’s healing spells will replenish a hero, yet hurt a dungeon monster. Luckily, a cleric’s holy power is diluted by that weight that most people, especially heroes, carry with them; sin. Sin isn’t such a bad thing, if you ask me, especially given that it weakens holy power and lets people have fun.
So, pure holy light is difficult to come by, which is good for us cores. Even a blade artificed with holy power doesn’t have a raw supply of the stuff. But blaudy stones will absorb the holy light and filter the accompanying sin and disbelief, and that gave me a powerful weapon to use today.
“Shadow, Edgar, there will be no monsters to fight here. If there were, they would have appeared already. You need to go. Gary, activate the pendants, leave them on the ground, and get the hell out of there.”
The core tremored. The light had filled it fully now, coloring it a deep blood red.
“Blaudy stone pendants, hmm?” said the core, recovering its senses and with it, the smugness inherent in most cores. Really, we don’t mean to be so smug, but we can’t help it.
“Blaudy stones filled with unholy light,” I said.
The core looked at Edgar. “A core hiding betwixt the feathers of a crow. Pathetic.”
“Raven, actually.”
“Who are you, fellow core?”
“I…uh…I already mentioned that. You might try listening. And now, it is time to die.”
“You would kill a fellow core?” it asked.
“You would have done the same.”
“True, true. But I would not do it hastily. Not without learning something hidden from other cores. You see, fellow core, I sense youth in your voice, even filtered through the beak of a bird. I sense that you do not know the true meaning of our existence. The reason cores were created. It is not to slaughter sword swingers, you see. No. But if you kill me you will never learn…”
“Well, well, well,” said a voice.
It came from behind us, a new voice echoing throughout the chamber.
Who else could it belong to? A voice, spoken by a person who had arrived unannounced, a person capable of walking through a dungeon completely undetected?
“Overseer Bolton,” I said.
“Ah, Beno. It seems you are a raven now, are you? It suits you. Sneaky, too curious for your own good. Treacherous.”
“Shiny thing!” said another raven.
“Aye, obsessed with shiny thi
ngs, too. You have a lot in common with your corvids.”
“Death and thunder!” said the core. “What is this? Those robes…an overseer? Here?”
“Quiet,” said Bolton.
Edgar fluttered around so I could see Bolton properly. He was standing by the core room entrance, no longer in his laborer clothes but adorned in his sweeping academy robes.
“What are you doing here?” I said.
“I might ask the same question. I knew you were hiding something, Beno, but I thought it would be some misguided attempt to trick First-Leaf Galatee and Chief Reginal. I never dreamed you had made a discovery such as this yet failed to inform the academy.”
“Yes, the academy is a paragon of truth, isn't it?” I said.
“Death and thunder! I awake to an overseer and braggart raven bickering in my chamber? Kainhelm, get here this instant!” shouted the core.
Overseer Bolton walked across the chamber. While Shadow had taken cautious steps with her dust, the overseer was more than capable of detecting traps with the barest glance, and it was only seconds before he stood in front of the core.
“It is time for you to sleep again.”
“Death and thun-”
Light glowed on Bolton’s palm, and he gently caressed the core. The blood-red glow left the gem, returning it to its grey state. It spoke of death and thunder no more. I had seen overseer do this in the academy, of course. Overseers needed to be able to control us cores, or they wouldn’t be worthy of their titles.
“We have quite a dilemma, don’t we?” said Bolton. “This core still belongs to the academy, despite being lost in the sands of time. While my overseer powers let me render it docile, I cannot do the same for you, Beno, since you aren’t owned by the academy any longer.”
“And why would you want to do that anyway?”
“I think you have seen enough in this dungeon, that you have begun to understand who this lost core is.”
“Yes, you bet your arse I have,” I replied.
I hadn’t.
I had pieced together some of the clues, but only in a way that let me date this core to somewhere during the Corenaissance. But as for its identity, I had no idea other than its name, which I had never heard before. I certainly hadn’t read about it, which meant…what? That it was an academy secret, perhaps?
I badly wanted to know. And I wanted to learn what it had started to tell me about the true purpose of cores. Had it just been manipulating my natural core curiosity to buy itself some time? Was it merely demented from so much time alone? Or did it know something…
But I couldn’t ask it now. Nor could I ask Bolton. Overseer Bolton believed I knew something that he wanted keeping secret, and he couldn’t shut me up the way he had with this core.
That gave me something to bargain with. The key in any negotiation is not to flaunt your cards, and instead to let your opponent show theirs. In other words, to keep my core gob firmly shut.
“What do you suggest we do?” I said.
Bolton ran his finger across the dormant core. “The academy would appreciate your discretion in this discovery.”
“And how will they buy my discretion?”
“Let me see. What can I offer to a dungeon core?”
“You could get me my freedom,” I said.
“Quite impossible. I cannot influence Galatee in that way; to do so would undermine the academy. We cannot be seen to sell our failing cores, only to trick our way back to ownership.”
“Less of the failing,” I said. “After all, I discovered this place. You chumps had no clue about it.”
Bolton laughed. “No clue? Why do you think I have been hanging around this barren pit of dirt in the arse end of nowhere? To help the clans? Pah. Why do you think I have been digging on the surface, staining my hands with dirt? Not for bloody thermal pockets, let me tell you. I am not even convinced such a phenomenon exists, despite Chief Reginal’s insistence. No, Beno. The academy knew that one of our cores was lost out here, but the records were destroyed in the great academy library fire of ’22. I was sent here when it became clear the clans were expanding their settlement. I was to make sure they never stumbled upon this place. But in the hundreds of miles of wasteland, I never suspected a dungeon would lay exactly next to yours.”
“Lady Chance at work.”
“You think it is chance that draws cores so close to one other? Lady Chance has a sister, Beno. A most stubborn one who they call Destiny.”
“If you need my secrecy, then here is what I want in return.”
“I’m all ears.”
“You can take the sleepy core, and I will say nothing. My reward for my silence is that everything in this dungeon belongs to me. The blaudy stone, the narkleer, the hideous statues, everything.”
Bolton looked concerned. “There’s a narkleer here?”
“That’s a long story, so let’s pretend you’ve already heard it. The narkleer is mine.”
“A dangerous creature. Too dangerous for a young core like you.”
“In many dwarven towns, they let children carry their own battle axes. I can handle a narkleer.”
Bolton seemed to weigh my deal in his mind. “I suppose we can agree, but only if you ensure the narkleer never presents a danger to the clans above.”
“Done. One other thing.”
“A whole deposit of blaudy stone and terrible monster aren’t enough?”
“Henceforth,” I said, “you will agree not to interfere with my dungeon, nor my dealings with Galatee and Reginal, whatever they may be.”
“You are a crafty sod.”
“That’s the way they breed ‘em in the academy.”
Bolton looked at the core, and then at Edgar. Without another word, he snatched the core from the pedestal and put it in a small leather bag on this shoulder. A bag much too small for such an object, indicating artificery at work.
The overseer exited the chamber, leaving Shadow, Gary, Edgar and the others alone in a room that used to be a core room, but was now just a room. After all, what is a core room when the core itself has been taken away?
CHAPTER 26
“Stay back now,” I said. “Don’t crowd Kainhelm too much.”
My clanmates were gathered in the room with the hole that led into the next dungeon. After learning of our success there had been many whoops, hollers, and congratulatory statements aimed mostly at Shadow, Gary and Edgar, with very little praise given to the mastermind behind it all; me. Such is a core’s life.
“Kainhelm shy?” asked Wylie.
“No, he isn’t shy. It is more that his mere presence will make you all quite ill.”
“Don’t let the bugger in then!” cried Tarius. “Are you mad?”
“He will stay on this side of the room, and you will stay on the other. It’s quite safe as long as you don’t get too close.”
“A bloody union would never allow this…” said Karson.
I ignored him. Floating on my pedestal, and now fully residing in my core body after spending way too long inside a raven, I eyed the hole in the wall.
“Kainhelm? Present yourself.”
A foot appeared in the hole, followed by a long, gangly leg, bleached white and looking older than time. The leg was followed by another, and then by the rest of Kainhelm, including his long flap of back skin which swept around him like a cape. He wore a grain sack over his head, which I felt bad about. It was quite undignified, yes, but there was no other way to introduce the narkleer to his new clanmates while ensuring his stare didn’t drive them insane.
“This way,” I said. “Just one more step. That’s it. Welcome to your dungeon. Now, clanmates. Let’s give Kainhelm a warm welcome.”
The kobolds and jellies and beetles and boss monsters did nothing, evidently unsure what a warm welcome meant.
“Applaud!” I said.
The chamber filled with the sound of applause. The tap-tap of kobold claps, the clicks of beetle antennae, the squelch of jellies.
“P
ox on your ancestors!” cried Kainhelm. “Such a din. Quiet, quiet!”
“Now now, Kainhelm. What did we say about poxing people’s ancestors?”
“I have spent centuries alone, you clamorous fools. I can’t abide such a noise.”
“Nice guy,” said Maginhart, as the applause died down.
“He grows on you,” I answered. “Now, as you know, the dungeon next door belongs to me now. Wylie, Karson, Tarius, I want you to create a tunnel that leads from our surface door to this new labyrinth. Kainhelm, you will patrol your old halls, and kindly dispatch any heroes who choose to delve through that route.”
Kainhelm gave an annoyed growl but coming from his skeletal throat it sounded more like a rattle. “You promised me new sights, core. To see more than just the same old bloody murals. You tricked me, eh? Befuddled good old Kainhelm. I am far too trusting. A curse on your…” he stopped himself before committing to a full pox on my forebearers.
“I am a core of my word. We will be excavating parts of our new dungeon, and you will get to explore the new halls. And true to our pact, I will allow you to visit the world above.”
Shadow glanced at me, while her puppies jumped all over her. “You promised Overseer Bolton…”
“I promised that Kainhelm wouldn’t be a threat to the clans above, and he won’t be. We’ll take Kainhelm to the surface at night, and only after we have constructed some kind of covering for him to wear that stops his dark energy seeping out. A kind of anti-deathly-energy gown, if such a thing exists. And if it doesn’t, we’ll create it! We’ll make sure that nobody is around, and only lead him to areas of the wasteland where there are no people likely to stray. Then, Kainhelm, you will get to see the stars in the night sky.”
“Cover me in bloody robes? Lead me out like a dog? A blight on your ances…a blight on you, core. This is no life for a narkleer.”
“This is just a stop-gap until I figure something out. You have seen nothing but the same old passageways for centuries. I’m offering you a chance to look to the heavens above, to see the twinkling of faraway suns and the colorful swirls of distant galaxies.”
“Pah.”
Dungeon Core Academy: Books 1-7 (A LitRPG Series) Page 55