by Dante King
I halted the process and left a 50-foot drop at the end of the stair-aided descent. The crisscrossing bridges and steps above would prevent any adventurer from seeing the drop before they’d almost reached the bottom. I half-chuckled to myself at the cursing that would echo through the Chasm after the fools discovered my trick. The wily ones would use ropes or some magical means of reaching the bottom.
But those who never got so far as the bottom of the stairs? Those who’d fall over the precipice?
They would meet swift deaths from my very next creation.
At the end of the stairs, I created a curving platform, away from the wall of the Chasm. Behind the platform, a new room opened up under the touch of my mind, and I fashioned a smaller version of the First Floor. This new room was round with a plinth like the one that held the dungeon cores above, and heavy doors of obsidian alloy closed it off.
Perfect for a throne room.
The ideal throne was something worth extra consideration, so I left it for later. The Chasm, however, could use a bit more fine-tuning. I flipped through my mental notebook of blueprinted traps. Spring Traps had a lot of useful applications, and were only really restricted by my imagination. The Paralysis Ring that Abby had gifted to me was another option. It had incredible utility in freezing any adventurers that stepped inside its crackling area-of-effect, but I didn’t have a lot of space on the Chasm’s single steps and narrow walkways.
I settled on a simple Spring Trap, but the execution wouldn’t involve shooting spikes or blades from the walls. It was actually a variation of the trap I used below the plinth that held my core. After a small amount of pressure on the trigger, three steps would rotate 90 degrees and dump anything standing on them into free-fall.
It was a good start.
I puzzled over my next move as my mind flickered over the weapon blueprints I’d stored within my core’s memory bank. From the very start of my existence as a dungeon core, I’d made sure to use a memory technique to keep everything within reach.
The crossbows I’d absorbed from the Sand Pirates had serious promise. I could reconstruct them as loot for the adventurers, but with a deft twist of imagination, I found they could also be reconfigured into Spring Traps, of a kind.
I dug into the walls of the Chasm until my Physical Essence count was complete at 30,000. Then, I started to bring my new invention into existence.
I stationed three above all eight of the snaking walkways and angled their flight-paths toward the catwalks themselves. I finished my new trap hybrid by placing the triggers on the breadrock bridges.
Zagorath built Arrow Trap x24 (Zagorath Alloy)
Consumed 28,800 Physical Essence
Arrow Traps. The magical program Lilith had installed inside my core already knew what I’d wanted to call them.
Sure, crossbows fired bolts, rather than arrows, but the word ‘bolt’ could just as easily apply to a variation of storm trap I hadn’t constructed yet. I didn’t want to get them confused.
I triggered the new projectiles and watched as arrows blitzed free of their hidden places in the walls and whipped through the air before breaking against the opposite wall, stairs, or the slender stone pathways. I absorbed the arrows and brought the Physical Essence back to my core. It only took me a few moments to reload the traps with more ammunition, and they were primed and ready.
Of course, the traps alone wouldn’t be enough. They were predictably placed, and an experienced dungeon-diver wouldn’t fall for the same trick twice. But add a little chaos, in the form of minions? Even the hardiest adventurer would have trouble focusing on where he put his feet while he fought off the spawn of Lilith.
Basic breadrock and changing layers of excavation weren’t exactly consistent with the rest of my dungeon. But a few cosmetic changes wouldn’t be difficult.
At my command, obsidian slid into being over the steps and the eight walkways, creeping around it like liquid and hardening into the same substance that decorated all of my halls. The black stone leaked out of the Chasm’s walls, waterfalling and solidifying around the edges of the descent into the depths of Shadow Crag. A little work, and thorned spikes, skulls, and demonic hands and claws jutted out of the walls.
This was a death-trap for adventurers. I’d need more Siphoning Stones to collect their essences, so I inserted three stones at varying heights inside the Chasm.
Zagorath Built Siphoning Stones x3
Consumed 60 Physical Essence
Consumed 150 Infernal Essence
Consumed 180 Storm Essence
Zagorath Activated Siphoning Stones x3
Consumed 36 Soul Essence
As much as I liked the many additions to the Chasm, it would be too dark for most adventurers to admire my handiwork. Unlike the First Floor with my gem to illuminate it, and the glow of the soul forge through the Hellbat-statue’s eyes in the Antechamber, the Chasm was completely dark. While I didn’t want adventurers to clearly see the entirety of the pit, I figured a little mood-lighting wouldn’t go unnoticed.
I took the physical shape of a human skull I’d eaten and formed a new construct out of the same Cheap Crystal I’d found in the staff of Alaxon, the old priest who’d previously been Ralph’s mentor. I etched an Illuminate sigil into the skull, and the magical seal provided an eerie, blood-red glow.
I duplicated the first skull until I had 10 identical items. I positioned them tactically throughout the Chasm so that they’d cast the same threatening scarlet light throughout the entire expanse. The light struck my aesthetic additions at strange angles and created terrifying shadows everywhere.
Zagorath Built Crystal Skulls x10
Consumed 100 Physical Essence
Consumed 1,000 Infernal Essence
“Come downstairs,” I said to my Bertha, “and see how our strength has grown.”
Unlike Abby, she could not return to an omniscient dungeon core to watch my progress, and I wanted her to see how her master had improved Zagorath. This was both her home and her battleground, so I hoped my efforts would fill her with pride and inspiration.
Bertha didn’t stand from her meditative position. “And if adventurers should invade while I do so?”
“I will feel their feet upon the entrance steps,” I reminded her. “You should see the fruit of my labor and the new areas you’ll be fighting in.”
“As you wish, Master,” my champion replied, curiosity coloring her mind’s tone.
As Bertha stood, she lanced backward into a one-handed handstand before gracefully alighting on her feet. She descended into the First Floor, crossed through the pillars, walked over the dais, and halted at the Chasm’s precipice. As she peered down into the crimson glow, her eyes widened at the size of the pit.
“Enter,” I commanded.
“Yes, Master,” she replied.
Bertha moved carefully as she started down the stairs.
“Watch for the triggers,” I said, and I explained their locations to her. I knew that she was committing them to memory so that she wouldn’t accidentally release an arrow trap in the future.
“It’s beautiful,” Bertha murmured as she paused halfway down the Chasm and leaned over a bridge to gaze at the very bottom.
“Now, for the finishing touch,” I said.
“Hm?” Bertha asked.
“Rewards,” Abby said, her voice appearing in my mind from nowhere. She must have been listening to the exchange, but chose to stay quiet until now.
“You are correct,” I said. “What is a dungeon without a lure to bring visitors to my depths?”
I needed more Physical Essence to begin forging loot, so at the end of each of the Chasm’s bridges, I created small recesses. I refined them down until I had 10,000 Physical Essence, enough resources to complete my planned items.
Ralph’s new sword had been a resounding success—not that I’d necessarily seen it in action—but I knew that it was easily some of the best gear I’d ever built. The black sheen of the steel, the volcanic hardness
built into the blade, and the way it matched the look of my dungeon was perfect. Hell, I needed to trademark the stuff.
I found the rewards sitting upon the side-altars in the Pretzel and rapidly broke down the bright steel and studded leather equipment. Then, with a twist of my mind, I reforged them into new items.
I formed two straight swords, similar in design to Zagorath’s Chosen, but less embellished, and more simple. They carried the Swiftness +1 and Might +3 sigils, respectively. I formed two daggers with the Embolden +2 sigil into their blades, created two Zagorath Alloy crossbows, two Adventurer’s Belts with pouches, and 10 bolts for each. They were smaller than the originals I’d consumed, more designed as a hand-crossbow, but they’d suit the purposes of the adventurer who got his hands on one. I then crafted a short-spear without any sigils, for the unlucky party member who drew the short straw.
Zagorath Crafted Items!
Greatsword of Inner Strength (Zagorath Alloy)
Rarity: Magic
Damage Type: Infernal
Seals: Might +3
Might channels the essence inside a wielder and increases their strength.
Cost: 1,875 Physical Essence, 3,200 Infernal Essence
Greatsword of Demonic Agility (Zagorath Alloy)
Rarity: Magic
Damage Type: Infernal
Seals: Swiftness +1
Swiftness channels the essence inside a wielder and increases their speed.
Cost: 1,875 Physical Essence, 1,000 Infernal Essence
Inspiring Dagger (Zagorath Alloy) (x2)
Rarity: Magic
Damage Type: Infernal
Seals: Embolden +2
Embolden inspires nearby allies and makes them immune to fear for a limited time.
Cost: 450 Physical Essence, 3,200 Infernal Essence
Pirate Crossbow (Zagorath Alloy) (x2)
Rarity: Common
Damage Type: Physical
Seals: None
Cost: 600 Physical Essence
Adventurer’s Belt (Black Leather) (x2)
Rarity: Common
Seals: None
Cost: 18 Physical Essence
Teardrop Crossbow Bolts (Honeywood) (x20)
Rarity: Common
Seals: None
Cost: 100 Physical Essence
Orc Short Spear (Zagorath Alloy)
Rarity: Common
Seals: None
Cost: 150 Physical Essence
I rested the weapons on the Chasm’s alcoves. If adventurers wanted rewards now, they’d have to venture through the entirety of my dungeon and deal with every last minion and champion.
Yet there was more loot I could create to entice visitors to enter the pit. Potions.
I built three Cheap Crystal vials with stoppers made from Honeywood. The potions didn’t cost a lot of Infernal Essence, so I figured these were low in potency and very limited in duration. With the containers made, I created a trio of swirling clouds that coalesced into liquid and sloshed straight into the vials.
Zagorath Crafted Items!
Lesser Healing Potion x2
Effect: Heals the consumer of a minor wound.
Cost: 10 Physical Essence, 160 Infernal Essence
Lesser Stamina Potion
Effect: Increases the consumer’s stamina by 5%.
Cost: 5 Physical Essence, 120 Infernal Essence
The potions were far from amazing, but they’d at least provide the adventurers with some sense of false hope once they reached the Chasm. They could repair one of their many wounds, and then, invest themselves in some additional stamina before they reached my Throne Room.
Then, I’d prove all their efforts were wasted when I summoned Von Dominus and tore through them.
My gem flickered as I sighed with satisfaction. The Chasm was now completely fitted with traps, rewards, and even a little lightning. I particularly admired my efforts with the Arrow Traps. I had created an entirely new device by melding the properties of two blueprints. I started to consider whether I could do the same with other objects when an idea struck me like one of Abby’s lightning bolts.
By joining the Spring Trap and Pirate Crossbow blueprints together, I’d been able to construct something that took on the best elements of both. Could I do the same with my minions? I’d never had the time or the essence to try this before now, but was it possible?
My curiosity wouldn’t allow the idea to go untried.
But, first, Abby and Bertha needed to farm more Storm Essence. I set them to work while I imagined what might become of the merging of hellbats and sprites.
7
Interlude
Before Ralph could cross into the room, Puck shot in. The Shade collided with a gangly man, swept him off his comfortable armchair, and drove him into the floor. Ralph vaulted over a desk covered in unbound scrolls and rushed to help his companion.
Puck was doing his best to muffle the man’s cries—they were strangled grunts, at best—but the old man went silent the moment the edge of Ralph’s blade tickled his throat. The Shade wheeled off him, placed himself on the back of the comfortable chair behind the desk, and grinned down at their new friend.
And, of course, he was the first to speak.
“If you scream for help, my friend here will open your veins,” Puck said as Ralph’s knife was pressed to the old man’s throat. “If you lie to us—and I’ll know—he will open your veins. If you reach for a weapon or attempt to do anything more than answer our questions and follow our instructions, he will open your veins. He’s in a vein-opening mood.”
Ralph kept his mouth shut and his gaze cold, serious and hard. The man underneath them didn’t look like he’d worked a day in his life. He was lanky, pale, and some kind of eyeglass dangled from his collar. His clothes were fine, deep green, with bright golden vines glistening on the hems. He was certainly the man they were looking for.
“Are you the one they call the Sage?” Puck demanded.
“Who… Who do you think you are?” The old man sat up, despite Ralph’s sword against his neck, and his eyes blazed with indignation. “The Sap Lords will hear of this!”
“Vein-opener?” Puck said. “Discipline the maggot.”
Ralph knew he couldn’t slice into the deep arteries of his throat because they needed him alive, so he settled for cutting open the skin along his collarbone and kicking him in the face. Not too hard, of course—he couldn’t talk with a mouthful of busted teeth—but it was enough to crack his skull off the wolfskin rug on the floor and cause him to rethink his approach.
“We’ll try again,” Puck said affably. “Are you the one they call the Sage?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Ah, he learns. Excellent.” The Shade’s wings folded behind his back as looked down at the prisoner. “What is your role within your guild, oh mighty Sage?”
“I’m the greatest scholar in this corner of the realm,” he said.
“What else?” Puck asked.
Ralph was growing tired of this meandering style of interrogation since they already knew that the old man could seal Nature tattoos. The longer they spent here, the more likely someone would find them. Except they needed to either make the Sage provide the tattoos freely, or rough him up until he obeyed their request.
“Tattooed sigils,” Ralph said. “We need them.”
“Sigils? That’s what you’re here for?” The Sage started to laugh, and Ralph silenced him with a hard kick to the ribs.
“I’m an administrator,” he moaned. “I record the amount of essence, resources, and members the guild attracts. I’m responsible for recruitment and the deployment of adventurers throughout this part of the realm.”
“And you’re capable of tattooing an Adventurer Sigil onto a new recruit?” Puck asked, his voice low and loaded with danger. “Such as my friend here?”
The Sage’s eyes widened as he looked up at Ralph. “You’re—”
“Answer the question,” Ralph cut him off as he pressed his sword j
ust a little further against the old man’s neck. “Or the next cut will be much more painful.”
His shudder of fear was enough to convince Ralph that the Sage was theirs.
“I can,” he panted. “The items I need--they’re in here, in the top drawer.”
The Sage lifted his hand and pointed toward a dresser behind him. Puck dissolved into shadows before materializing beside the piece of furniture. He tugged open the drawer with bone-white claws and peered into it.
“What is it, precisely, that you need to carve this sigil, Sage?” Puck’s small eyes glistened behind a cloud of shadows, and Ralph understood.
The Sage could very well carve a sigil into Ralph’s flesh that was no more effective than a rock at storing Nature essence and wielding Nature enchantments. There was no guarantee the Sage would perform their demands with accuracy.
“The scalpel and vial,” the Sage said in a trembling whisper, “in a small wooden case.”
A moment later, Puck dropped it on the desk, then loomed over Ralph. The way the Shade could increase his size at will was disconcerting, but it was effective.
The Sage grabbed the scalpel from the case, and Ralph realized how foolish it would be to allow the man to hold such a blade to his skin.
“I believe we’re of one mind,” Puck said as he glanced at Ralph.
“You intend to give up the quest?”
“I intend to complete it—by any means necessary.” Puck reached out with his hand and grasped the Sage’s head.