Dungeon Core Academy: Books 1-7 (A LitRPG Series)

by Alex Oakchest

“What we came for, innit?” said a third.

  They each drank more of their beer.

  “Heard some stories about this particular dungeon,” said the first.

  “About the core in it.”

  “Bad stories,” said the third.

  They each took another drink.

  “Heard there’s another dungeon in Fosfleet. An easier one. If we score a cart ride, we’d be there in a day.”

  “We could class our trip to Yondersun as a holiday, p’rhaps?”

  “We’ve earned a break.”

  “Aye,” they all said.

  They finished their drinks.

  Willy, who was wiping the bar counter with a cloth, as innkeepers tended to do more often than was probably necessary, called over. “Another drink, lads?”

  “What do ya reckon?” said the first. “Few more beers? Skip this dungeon and go to the easier one in Fosfleet?”

  “I promised Sandra I wouldn’t get hurt this time, so mebbe, aye.”

  “Works for me,” answered the third.

  “Aye,” they all said.

  I floated by them. When they saw me, they watched me with wide-eyes and were visibly relieved when Willy walked over with fresh tankards of beer and gave them something else to focus on.

  I headed over to a man sitting in the corner of the tavern, opposite from where Brecht tapped his tambourine and Gary played his lute. The man wore a ridiculous hat, ridiculous shirt, and even more ridiculous winkle pickers.

  “Beno!” called Gulliver. “Didn’t expect to see you here! Come on, pull up a…have a nice float next to me, my friend.”

  The kobold and spider monster finished their song, prompting Gulliver to break into wild applause. “Keep ‘em coming, boys!”

  Before I could reach Gull, a man appeared in front of me.

  The man was almost a giant, and his tanned scalp was as bare as the wasteland. His apron was covered in stone dust, and his muscled arms hinted at a lifetime of hard graft.

  “Ten-Toes?” I said.

  He scratched his chin nervously.

  “Er, Core Beno. I just wanted to say…I think lots of us want to say…we don’t know what came over us. With all that No-Core stuff, I mean. The songs, and all that. I…er…makes me feel ashamed, when I think about it. I know other folks wanted to say the same, but they were…er…scared to go into your dungeon. Not that we think it’s dangerous…that is to say, we do think it’s dangerous, but we know you wouldn’t try to murder us or nothin’…”

  “A person who keeps chasing a grudge runs straight by the good things in life. I learned that from the tragedy of a man named Cael demons-damned Pickering. Forget it, Ten-Toes.”

  “Can I get you a drink? Do cores even…er…can you…”

  “Thank you, Ten-Toes, but I’m fine. Get back to your apprentices and enjoy your evening.”

  The stonemason ambled back to his table, where his three gnome and orc apprentices lifted their tankards to me.

  “Good to see you, Beno. I thought you’d be busy,” said Gulliver, when I joined him.

  “Never too busy to chat with my pal.”

  “Well, I plan on being unable to talk intelligibly very soon, so you picked the right time.”

  “I just wanted to thank you, Gulliver.”

  “Oh, come off it.”

  “I mean it. For your advice, for listening to my rants, for kicking me up the arse when I needed it. And for your propaganda, obviously.”

  He shrugged. “What friends do, isn’t it?”

  “There was something I want to do for you, actually,” I said. “Not that it’s a favor; I can’t think of anyone else better suited than you. With Mimic Dullbright in place as my proxy, I want to start changing things in Hogsfeate. Try and make the populace more receptive to cores, kobolds, angry elemental jellies, and the like. But it’s going to look strange, Dullbright having such a sudden and strong change of heart. I’ll need someone to ease the people into it.”

  “Ah. More propaganda.”

  “Yes, but not just leaflets. I’ll need someone in charge of that kind of thing on a more regular basis. I'll require a head of public communications, in other words.”

  “Me?”

  “Who else? There’s nobody more qualified, and you said you wanted to start taking easier jobs, but you still needed a challenge.”

  “Beno,” said Gulliver, smile beaming, “I accept your offer. And now, I’m going to get a lot drunker than I had planned. It’s time to celebrate! Brecht, Gary…play on! Willy, keep my tankard topped up until I start singing saucy ballads!”

  Two guards were standing either side of the door to the Yondersun meeting room. One stared straight behind me, trying desperately to maintain the level of concentration Reginal and Galatee demanded of their sentries.

  The other was a teenager with green skin and three eyes and was considerably more muscled since the last time I had seen him. This guard made no effort to appear stoic, and instead grinned wide.

  “Core Beno! This one is delighted to see you!”

  “It’s good to see you too, Warrane. How are things?”

  “This one was promoted, Core Beno. He is now a part of the chiefs’ sentry unit.”

  “Ah yes, that promotion every man dreams of; getting chosen to keep a watchful eye on your do-nothing higher-ups.”

  “This one sees great honor in such service, Beno. Perhaps one day the core will understand what honor means.”

  We stared at each other then.

  I was the first to crack, unable to keep myself from laughing. “Ah, I miss having you around the dungeon, Warrane. Wylie and Tomlin would love to see you.”

  “When this one gets time, he will come.”

  “Good.”

  “And Beno…this one sees that you can float!”

  “You know what, Warrane? You’re only the second bloody person to notice.”

  A voice spoke to us from behind the door.

  “Beno? Get your arse in here! We’re waiting to start the meeting.”

  The stoic guard opened the door, and Warrane nodded at me as I floated by and into the meeting room. It was my first visit to the chiefs’ meeting place, and I was surprised, to say the least.

  There were no windows. Although the room was housed at the rear of one of Jahn’s wooden lodges, the inside walls were actually made of stone. Mana lamps burned from their metal fixings. There was a great oval table, behind which Reginal and Galatee were seated.

  “Well? An improvement on your dreary dungeon chambers, no?” said Reginal.

  “This…well, chiefs…it looks exactly like the meeting chamber in my dungeon.”

  “Are you blind? It looks nothing like it!”

  “Stone walls? Mana lamps? No windows?”

  “Practicalities,” said Galatee. “To prevent eavesdroppers. We discuss the most sensitive of town issues here, you see.”

  “Right. Well, I suppose we better get started. Wait - where’s Jahn? Part of our terms was that he would get a seat. Figuratively, of course.”

  “Jahn was told about the meeting again and again, Core Beno, and yet he is still on the construction site, helping build the memorial.”

  “It seems your friend isn’t as keen to stick his nose into town business as you,” added Reginal.

  “Let’s get down to it, then. Do you have an agenda?” I said.

  “Firstly, let’s talk compensation,” said Galatee.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Your fight with the mercenaries left a tremendous mess on the wasteland, and would be off-putting to any travelers. Do you suppose people would want to visit a town surrounded by corpses and bloodstains? I had to divert some of our labor force to move the bodies, or they’d have attracted vultures and the like. Then there was all the blood that your giant three-eyed monster left behind! That took a while to clean, let me tell you. He’s in your dungeon, isn’t he? How in Xynnar could anything lose so much blood and still live?”

  “I suppose he isn’t read
y to go to the ice yet.”

  “What in all hells does that mean?”

  “Never mind. He lost a lot of blood, yes, but he will heal.”

  “What was it all about, Beno?” said Reginal. “One of the dead men was an absolute mess! His chest caved in, face torn to shreds. I have seen lots of battle, core, lots of killing, and never have I come across such anger wreaked upon a person. Was this personal, or something?”

  “Personal?” I said. “I’m a dungeon core, Reginal. I don’t have feuds. I’m above all that nonsense. I am glad you brought up compensation, actually. You see, the mercenaries were actually here to raid the town. I was alerted to the fact and felt it would be swifter for me to assemble monsters and fight them, rather than find you. The battle happened outside my dungeon territory and inside Yondersun territory, and I expended considerable resources in fighting it.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “That Chief Galatee is right; we should add compensation to the agenda.”

  Reginal rubbed his temples and muttered something. Galatee put her hand on his back and rubbed it. “Are you okay?” she asked. Then she glanced at me and guiltily removed her hand.

  “I’m fine,” said Reginal. “Another headache, is all. Now, Beno, my scouts have combed vast parts of the Wasteland around us. Your kobold, the one who you sent to Hogsfeate for supplies…what was her name…Darkness?”

  “Shadow,” I said.

  “Yes. We haven’t seen hide nor hair of her, I’m afraid. Is there a chance she is in Hogsfeate?”

  “No.”

  “How would you know for sure?” asked Galatee, looking at me suspiciously. I couldn’t tell her that my mimic had murdered Hogsfeate’s governer and had assumed his form, taking over his life and acting as my proxy to rule the town. I couldn’t admit that I had given him shards of myself so that we could communicate over vast distances.

  “Just an inkling,” I said.

  “Well, I’m afraid I cannot spare any more scouts to look for this Shade. Of course, if you wish to commit your own creatures to the cause, I will not stop you.”

  “Very generous of you, chief.”

  “Now, Beno,” said Galatee. “There is something we need to discuss. Despite the commotion you caused outside his town, Governer Dullbright of Hogsfeate has written to us offering terms of trade.”

  “No,” I said. “Really?”

  “Yes, yes he has. Not only that, but he has revoked his ultimatum and no longer wishes us to hand you or Jahn to him. What’s more, he concedes that he started the fight and that you are not to blame. He was strangely insistent upon that.”

  “If he hadn’t used his own seal, and if his handwriting didn’t match the past letters he has sent us,” said Reginal, “I’d have believed it was a forgery of some sort. But no, it is from Dullbright alright. Even had a pair of guards from Hogsfeate deliver it to us. Len and Ben. Loathsome fellows, if I’m honest. Seemed to resent having to do their jobs.”

  “This is all shocking to me,” I said. “Completely out of the blue, like a lightning bolt on a clear day.”

  “Well, it is a virtue when a man can change his mind about someone,” said Galatee, looking at me.

  “What about the trade terms?” I said. “I can’t imagine what they would be.”

  Galatee slid the paper across the table. “He doesn’t just wish to renew the old terms, but offers more favorable ones. Everything we need for Cynthia to make the special fertilizers. Materials to speed up Jahn’s construction projects. All kinds of resources that our lack of was holding us back.”

  “What do you think?” asked Reginal.

  “You’re asking me?”

  “We value your opinion,” said Galatee.

  This was interesting. It seemed that though I had bargained myself a seat at the table, they were much less begrudging about my presence than I had expected.

  “I would say that Dullbright seems to have had a change of heart. He has scuttled into his cocoon and fluttered out as a butterfly. Why not take him up on his terms?”

  “Excellent!” said Galatee. “Now, we have a delicate matter to discuss. We do not wish to offend you, but it must be said.”

  “It’s the scribe,” said Reginal. “Knowing how much his mere words can have an impact upon our populace…”

  “We do not feel it wise that he spends so much time in Yondersun,” said Galatee.

  “You want to ban Gulliver? No. I won’t even contemplate it.”

  “Not ban, Beno. Just limit his time here.”

  “What happened to everyone being able to come and go in Yondersun as long as they contribute? What happened to freedom of movement into your town?”

  “The actions of Boothe Stramper have alerted us to the fact that such a policy, though idealistic, might not be in our best interests.”

  Reginal, still rubbing his temples, leaned forward. “We’re not saying he can’t come to visit you and your critters. We know you are pals. But we feel his time in Yondersun is best limited.”

  “As it happens,” I said. “Gulliver has taken a job in Hogsfeate.”

  “Oh?”

  “Governer Dullbright sought him out personally. Gulliver is to be the head of public communications.”

  “Ah. That governor is a crafty sod. Head of public communications? Head of lies and spin, more like.”

  “At least you are more perceptive than most of us,” I said.

  Galatee smiled. “Yes. At least we are that. Now, onto the matter of the…”

  When the meeting was over, Galatee rushed out to attend to a problem of some kind over at the memorial site, leaving Chief Reginal and me alone.

  “Are you okay?” I asked him.

  “Battle makes a man feel young. Whereas leadership? It piles on the decades in a blink of an eye.”

  “Maybe you could consider…not cutting back on your responsibilities, but perhaps honing them.”

  “I don’t catch your meaning.”

  “There are many areas you have to attend to in town,” I said. “Construction. Commerce. Relations with other towns, making sure people have shelter and food. It seems to me that one area that you would particularly thrive in if you could devote more time to it, is the leadership of Hogsfeate’s offensive and defensive forces.”

  “And what of everything else? Cede it over to Galatee?”

  “She’d do a great job, but she’s already spread thin. Look at how she had to rush out of here the moment our meeting ended. If only there were someone else who could take some of the burdens from you. Someone else with experience in leadership.”

  “Are you suggesting…”

  “I’m not suggesting anything, it was just a thought. I have to go, chief. Stay well.”

  “Beno. One second.”

  I paused by the doorway, floating level with Reginal’s face.

  “Yes?”

  “Cynthia says that the oscil supplies arrived yesterday, and she now has enough to make two dozen orbs for Devry. That should keep his illness in check for the foreseeable future. Thank you, Beno.”

  “Devry is a good lad. I’m glad he’s better.”

  “The thing is, Beno, that I recently found out something very interesting.”

  “Oh?”

  “A rumor that I found distasteful, at first.”

  “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

  “Well, my sources tell me that you made a deal with the Silkers to secure the supply of oscil.”

  I didn’t know how Reginal knew that. Either the Silkers had told him, or someone was spying on me. Either way, I saw no point in lying.

  “I did make a deal with them.”

  “Games of power and the rules of trading might make me want to tear what little hair I have out of my scalp, but I know one thing; a deal always has two sides to it. What did the Silkers want in return?”

  “Nothing I couldn’t give them,” I said.

  “And what was that nothing?”

  “You’re sure that you want
to know?”

  “Beno…”

  “The Silkers had been tracking a notorious conman named Leach Peters. It seems that he had crossed them three times with bad trades, and the Silkers have a reputation for being very unforgiving. They looked for him all over Xynnar, before tracking him here, to Yondersun.”

  “What? I’ve never seen a bloody conman around here.”

  “Well, it turns out that he was living in town, and had assumed the name of Gilleasberg Torp.”

  “The leader of the No-Cores? The bugger who ran away?”

  “He didn’t run anywhere, Reginal,” I said. “I had a few of my creatures sneak into his lodge while he slept. My bard played a song that kept him in a deeper sleep, while my kobolds tied his arms. They delivered him to a Silker representative outside of town, and that was that. The deal was repaid.”

  Reginal stopped rubbing his temple and stared at the wall.

  “You don’t seem as angry as I expected, considering your hate for the Silkers,” I said.

  “You know, Beno, I thought about how much I loathe the Silkers. Then I thought about how much I love my son. This isn’t about being a leader, but a father. Sometimes a person has to do something distasteful.”

  Later, in my dungeon, I was busy drawing up plans for dungeon defenses when Wylie approached me.

  “Need orders, Dark Lord. What we do with Cael’s body?”

  “Cael? Cael who? Oh, the hero chump. Well, do with him as we do with all the other dead heroes, Wylie. He was nothing special.”

  “Take body to alchemy chamber?”

  “Exactly. We’ll dissolve it and take his wartificer essence. I’ll have to think about which one of you would benefit most from absorbing his essence and becoming a wartificer. Put his stupid phoenix feather and his armor and blades to one side, too. Whoever I choose will need them.”

  “Yes, Dark Lord. And after?”

  “After that? Well, Wylie, we’ll do what we always do. Dig more tunnels. Excavate more chambers. Fill them with monsters, traps, and puzzles. Tougher heroes will be arriving, my friend, and the dungeon can never stop growing. We will never, ever cease. The time is soon coming when our dungeon will be the most feared in the land. I know it, I can feel it, and I will make demons-damned sure of it.”