The Wizard (Dungeon Core Book 1)

by MJ Kaltenbrunner

  They had not reckoned they would deal with the likes of Tehra the rogue, nor the force of the city guard come to investigate. And as the cult of hooded perpetrators began to rush the outnumbered guards, Tehra used the distraction to ride onward. She slashed at the few hooded figures in her way, lavishing her senses in the flying blood. The hateful mystery balled up within her seemed to be eased by their agony as they fell to the streets, internal elements exposed to the night air and life force flowing freely.

  The guards may have been less by number, but they at least equaled their opponents in equipment, and the ability to put it to good use in a direct fight. These were fighting men, warriors and militia types. The robed men and women with their impractical daggers were playing at combat. Making a mockery of things. Their true game was surely something much more sinister, but that did not help them in a fair fight.

  "Kill the lot of them!" shouted a man who appeared to be in charge of the city guard patrol. No man in his command had any qualms about the order, and they cheered a confirmation in unison. The clatter of steel and armor, flesh and bone rendered apart from owners, rang out through the streets. People came from their houses to see what was happening right near where they laid their heads. Shock and chaos, confusion and pain, those were the only things Tehra rode away from.

  But it still carried with her. It had to have something to do with the bastard wizard, she told herself. If this were what he had decided to do to her, to destroy her perhaps, she would do her best to stop him and make things right again.

  37

  Mertho was not surprised that the elf had betrayed him. She had only tolerated him from the beginning. Even then, because of what he could provide for her. Taking and taking, never considering that he had once been a flesh and blood man who disloyalty could harm.

  "What are you going to do?" asked Gaynor.

  This is my dungeon. I am a part of it. No one is capable of coming for me.

  "But you will not kill my father, my love. He must see us to know that we are truly intended to be together. I know that he will approve once he sees how time has not deteriorated our love."

  Feeling the dread grow inside him, Mertho clutched at what the beautiful maiden was dangling before him. This was his only change to be happy. If there was a way to make things right, it was not his place to refuse such a thing. The confusion blinded his thoughts, however. I need to prepare myself. I am not foolish enough to underestimate your father and his company. They were able to gain entry to my home once before and take away everything that I had, everything I was. That is not going to happen again.

  "I will be here by your side, my love. Can you feel the strength flowing through you at my presence? That is the power of a good woman's love. You are only complete with such a power in your core. Do you trust me?"

  Mertho was not sure why he would ever have cause to not trust this divine creature standing before him. Her face was as pure as freshly fallen snow, radiant in the sun breaching through early morning clouds in the winter time. Nothing could come close to matching Gaynor, for she was a spark that would never be still for long. She gave him strength that was true. The power in his core had grown. I can feel you, he said.

  "And I you," she replied, standing beside him and placing her hand on the corner of the skull altar.

  I must focus now. If anyone but your father is allowed through my dungeon, the risk will be too great. Mertho summoned insects, rodents, small lizards, snakes, and screeching bats from all around. They formed angry swarms, pocketed through the entrance tunnel. There was no reason to pretend this was a regular cave now. He did not have to withhold his creativity just to remain unseen by the stupid mortals.

  Knowing they might have something to deter or destroy the lesser dark magic used in traps or elementals, he would focus his direct energy into the rocks themselves. He pushed and strained to make it work, and managed to create small pillars from the sides of the room near the pool of deadly fish. They were small enough to be fingers, albeit the fingers of a giant. They were his, and the first thing he had possessed that resembled a human part since the incident.

  Next, he made them a hand and flexed the fingers, testing out his new limb, attached to the interior of the cave's wall by an arm-like shaft of rock. He was able to move it around and easily grasp things if he so chose. With a real hand of skin over warm flesh, it would again be possible for him to caress Gaynor’s body and explore the natural wonder within her most sacred places. The urge drove him to a frenzy, but there was nothing he could do about it. Gigantic hands of hard rock were of no use in making love.

  The more likely task he would put the hand to use for was crushing or at least delaying adventurers. He allowed the hand to move back into the wall, leaving nothing behind but some rubble and dust where he had moved around the solid material. He did it again, but this time in another place. Again, in the room where the pool was, he formed a hand and used it to reach into the water. The fish there showed a passing interest but did not care to attack the hand. They cowered beneath their ledge of rock and plant life, as though a huge predator with skin too thick to bite had come to get them.

  Mertho reached all the way down to the bottom of the water and picked up the skeleton of Cedric, the unfortunate, yet entirely deserving, ex-captain of the city guards. The skeleton was ideal for his first practical attempt at necromancy. He threw the waterlogged bones onto the ground by the edge of the pool. The spell was simple, but no respectful wizard would even attempt such a thing. Studying the dark arts was a part of good training, but he had never completed the method to fruition. This time, he did so, and the skeleton began to glow with a magical green aura, the same color as the dungeon core. It formed briefly but then fell apart in a pile.

  No! What is the matter? He’d read it, knew the workings of the spell, but something was off. You just need to focus, he told himself. Again, he tried to animate the skeleton—this time it worked!

  The thing had little in the way of brains. Well, it literally did not have any brains inside the skull. Those had been picked clean by the carnivorous fish, but there was an intelligence in the form of magic. A lone skeleton was not much good in a battle against armed adventurers, however. Mertho unearthed the corpses he had buried after the ogre had been beheaded, and animated those too. They had been picked clean by the ogre as well, although some were less clean than others. Chunks of disgusting flesh, and skin with hair still attached to it were on the bones, but they were much the same as the first skeleton. Mertho had himself an army of around a dozen zombies. The ogre had been busy; it even looked as though it had brought back some bodies while the wizard's thoughts were elsewhere.

  The ogre itself was still there too, beheaded and largely still covered in flesh. This was larger and required more magical energy, but the process was just as simple and there now stood a headless zombie in gigantic form. The fists and claws were perfectly designed for killing humans. Thark, the ogre, had made that much painfully clear during its long life at large, much to the dismay of the local populace.

  The small unit of animated undead did not display many signs of life, which was not surprising. They would only spring into action when enemies came into the dungeon. For them, Mertho expanded and created a large room with nothing else in it. He lit this area with a magical fire of red, and decided to think of it as the battle room. The water room now led to this room, and after that was the room containing the golems. They still had the spell that would make them appear to be full of light magic, and they would profess to be the guardians of a holy relic. Then, there was a passage of narrow stairs that went down to Mertho's dungeon core chamber.

  I am feeling weak now, he told Gaynor. My magical pool is so vast all of a sudden, yet there is still a limit. There is nothing more I can do but hope that this is enough to stop them.

  "And my father will finally come to see there are consequences for his actions," added Gaynor. The words resonated through the wizard's core and made him feel ill at ea
se, although her lovely face and gentle voice were welcome distractions.

  38

  Benevic tried to stem his flowing anger as he and his men prepared to go directly into the heart of evil. This wizard who had taken his daughter away when she was barely a woman, had turned her to a life of evil that extended even beyond the saving reaches of the Sister of Fate's Mercy. And the news of their death. What did it all mean? Was she really in bed with true evil, metaphorically, and possibly literally when she had been caught alone with Mertho at his home.

  Now she was tangled up with a blasphemous cult, baring her flesh before groups of men and women, offering up her very soul to such evil. And for what? Where had this all begun? The source of all his angst this past decade could be traced back to the night they'd caught Gaynor with Mertho.

  There was nothing that would stop the veteran adventurer from finding the evil that remained beneath the hills and smiting it into oblivion. That was sure to break whatever spell had been placed over Gaynor.

  "Boss, we need to have a better idea of what we're going up against, don't you think?" Yuri had been pestering him ever since the decision had been made to form a dungeon diving party. "You're acting quite strange and not in your best mind to make a decision like this." The dwarf had barely made any efforts to prepare himself and was not giving the warriors the kind of support and advice that he usually would have.

  "Are you afraid?" asked Benevic. "Because, if you are so worried about a simple little cave with some dark magic, perhaps you should hang up your adventuring belt and go join the nunnery yourself."

  "Hold on a minute, just because I said we should have a proper plan and some intel, doesn't mean you can go throwing around accusations like that." The stunted dwarf tried to stand up tall, but that was never going to happen.

  Benevic chuckled. "Look at you squirm. Why are you so afraid of the prospect of a living dungeon? They are not uncommon. I know you have helped defeated them before, as have I, and several others in our party. You have such low faith in us?"

  "You don't even know it's a living dungeon. How could you? And if it is, or if there is powerful magic at use there either way, what are you going to do about it? You never would hire on any magic users after your daughter ran off with that puny wizard. You will lose the whole company tonight, Benevic, mark my words in that stubborn head of yours. And when you do, it'll be you and you alone to blame." Yuri walked over to the door. "I used to respect you more than any man alive, but now I can see that you'd let your own family issues send good men to their deaths. I'm getting out of here with my head still attached to my neck, and I suggest any of you with at least half a brain come with me."

  A few of the warriors who looked to Yuri as their sub-leader were unsure about what to do next. One of them walked after him, leaving his gear behind. "I'm sorry, Benevic, but Yuri's right about this one."

  "Coward," replied Benevic, shaking his head. "If any others have doubts, then please leave. You would be of no use to tonight."

  Two more men went over to the dwarf, and the four of them left without making any more of a scene.

  Now his ego was battered at being abandoned by his second-in-charge, as well as a few other men who he'd thought loyal. That was something he would have to push down deep inside himself, clear it from his mind just as he did with everything else that plagued his nerves.

  Benevic was already donning his full battle armor - steel mail of the finest quality, plates of steel to cover his weakest points, and a breastplate as well. He did not wear full plate armor on adventures, as it was better suited to an open battlefield. As for his helm, that would be worn at the last minute before they went down to destroy this evil cult and put a stop to whatever hold they had over Gaynor.

  They mounted their horses and went toward the docks at a brisk pace. The warrior taking point put up his hand as they came near an intersection in the roads where there was a street lantern lighting the area around it.

  "Something bad's gone on up ahead, sir," said the point man.

  "What do you mean by that?" replied Benevic.

  The man shook his head and just pointed. "There's been some kind of bloodletting. Look about, like a small scale battle took place right here in the street."

  There was blood all over, and strips of clothing that had been torn from people, plus the occasional glob of what looked like flesh or skin. "This is nothing we haven't seen before. Keep on riding, let the city guard deal with whatever happened here. We are a company for hire, not the local militia of volunteers.

  There were no men left who would question Benevic. In fact, he was becoming glad that Yuri had left, and that the big-mouthed rogue Jillis had proved herself incapable of doing her job. He knew now that she'd gotten herself killed by speaking her mind to the wrong person, while drunk of course. No loss to the world with her passing.

  "I tell you, men, all this bloodshed is putting me in a fine mood for fighting! What say you?" he sang out with a golden boom.

  The men had never failed to join in an emphatic cheer when the charismatic veteran urged them on, and they did not fail this time either.

  "Are we going to kill some evil before the sun rises, men?" he asked loudly.

  "Yes!" they all shouted back to him from their moving mounts.

  "This is what it means to be an adventurer, men! Make me proud!" His heart felt warm, and his blood rushed faster, the thrill of fighting and killing evil making him feel a bond with his men that nothing else could ever compare to. It lessened the pain of knowing that he might have already lost his daughter to the dark side.

  39

  When they arrived at the docks, there was someone lurking around in the dark. A horse stood away from the water, looking like it had been simply left to itself.

  "I'll fetch the ferryman," said the man riding point.

  "Good man," replied Benevic. "We'll want to take our horses." He watched the shadowy figure walk around and climb into a boat. "You there!" he called out. "I hope that boat belongs to you." Something about riding out with his loyal men, sharing cheers and words of courage with them before a battle, had put Benevic in good spirits. That meant he wanted all to be right in the city, which too often involved putting a stop to the wrongs that he encountered.

  There was no reply from the man, no, it was a woman. The shape of her silhouette in the light from the moon was too feminine to belong to any man. It was willowy and quite tall though.

  "Go and stop them," he said, motioning to two of his men. "Just stop them though. We're not in the habit of slaying common thieves now, are we?" He was curious about this, but also impatient to get the ferryman out of bed and onto his vessel so they could ferry the party across the river.

  There was shouting farther up the docks, where the two men had dismounted and gone to see what this figure in the dark was up to so far into the small hours. The clatter of steel rang out, and one of the warriors stumbled back, then yelled out, "Bitch!"

  Benevic rode toward them himself at a gallop that produced a cacophony on the wood of the dock beneath his warhorse's hooves. "Tehra?" he shouted as he neared. "What are you doing, girl?"

  "The little witch cut my face," said Barris, one of the two warriors. "All I did was ask where she was going." The two men had managed to disarm her and were holding her by each of her arms.

  "Back off!" she shouted. "Let me go; I'm not your prisoner!"

  "You were called with the others for this dungeon diving party," Benevic said. "I sent Yuri myself. Then again, he's shown himself to be a snake. Did he not go to find you? And what are you doing down by the docks if he did not fetch you?"

  "You can't go down into that dungeon!" she shouted. "You don't understand what you're dealing with. There's no way the party can handle what's down there."

  "Oh?" he asked flatly, his good mood draining from him like black blood out of a rotting corpse that has been cut open. "You know a lot about the evil involved in that place, do you?"

  "I told you she was in
on it with that ogre! You think this pointy-eared runt could've ever killed something like that?" said Barris. His face was bloody, but the cut didn't look very bad.

  "Go and get one of the men to patch that up," said Benevic. He almost wished they had a healer, but no magic worshipping devils would ever find a place in his company again. "Tie this witch up and make sure she can't escape. You can take her to the lockup back at the company building, Barris."

  "Maybe I can teach her a lesson about not cutting people."

  "Just take her back to the company building. I’ll deal with her later. We’re not savages.”

  "Yes, sir!" said Barris as he took Tehra off to tie her up.

  "Let me go, you fucking pig!" she said. "I'll stick a knife in you like the last man who put his hands on me."

  The ferryman came with his flat-bottomed watercraft, and the horses slowly were loaded up. There was barely any room left over, so it was a good thing they had no one on foot to squeeze in between the mounts.

  "You lot are sure dressed up for something important," said the still half asleep ferryman. "I should hope it's important anyway, as you dragged me out of a bed containing a very fine woman indeed."

  "Yes, I'm sure you'll be able to hire her for another night," said Benevic. A change was coming over him, and he felt like making jokes, reveling in the excitement before the fight.

  "I didn't realize you had a sense of humor, good Benevic," said the ferryman. There was the smell of drinking on his breath, which was fair as it was late into the evening and he was just a dock worker."

  "Tonight I do, my good man. Tonight I do." Benevic could taste the blood now, sprinkled with justice.

  40

  When they reached the other side, the procession of mounted warriors made their way up the side of the hill. They didn't trot, but simply kept an even pace and watched out for things lurking in the shadows of the rising hillside.