by Chris Fox
Bert rather liked the Eye of Soreness, and imagined any friends of it would probably be friends of his. “Okay! Bert happy to meet friends.”
“While we’re on the subject…I’ll put out the word for applicants.” The eye bobbed up and down happily.
“Applicants?” Bert blinked up at the eye.
“For your dungeon.” The eye blinked down at him as if that should have been evident. “I assume you want it fully stocked.”
Bert considered that. Monsters killed adventurers, and scared everyone else. That would make people not want to come near here, so they’d stay away from the rock. He nodded up at the eye. “Okay, Bert would love to meet monster friends.”
“Splendid!” The eye bobbed again.
“Bert going to go feed dog, and get bad rock. Be back soon!” He gave his new friend a wave, and started back the way he had come.
Bert dutifully retraced his steps, and found Boberton sitting directly in front of the rock with his best growly face on. He waddled up as quickly as he could manage, waving frantically…he’d really missed the dog.
Boberton bounded to his feet and danced joyously around Bert. It was impressive how the large dog avoided stepping on the tiny goblin, and important as Bert still only had one hit point.
“Bert take rock inside.” Bert moved over to the ground to assemble new dirt mittens. “Boberton will need to stay outside, but Bert can bring food. Bert going to set up dungeon inside. New friends coming to see us!”
Boberton’s tail wagged furiously, and Bert dug into the pack to fetch some elf cookies. First Lefty and then Righty dutifully accepted them, though without the usual gusto the dog usually expressed around food. Perhaps he had a tummy ache.
“Okay, Bert be back soon.” Bert summoned his dirt mittens, and began pushing the rock through the labyrinth. Since he’d seen it from above he knew the proper route, but it still took a very long time to push the stone all the way back to the Eye of Soreness.
The eye had leaned down as far as it could, and peered at Bert as he pushed the rock down the stairs. “What an interesting magic rock. It’s not from our world. I’d know. I’ve forged all sorts of artifacts. I have never seen anything like this, and I’ve seen everything. You were right to hide it here.”
“Yup.” Bert pushed the rock into a corner next to the stairs. “Bert will put roof on maze first, then will hide rock better. You said monsters come for jobs?”
“Yes, but first we’ll be meeting with your fellow dark lords. I’ve invited several. I hope that’s okay. They’ll be here tomorrow.”
Bert hopped up and down. He loved parties and meeting new people. Tomorrow would be a magnificent day!
“Ah…dark lord?” The eye’s voice dropped to a near whisper. “May, I, ah, ask a rather impertinent question?”
“Sure.” Bert rubbed his hands and the dirt mittens fell away into a pile of pebbles. “How Bert help?”
“Well, I’m seeking a potent relic.” The eye shifted uncomfortably—well, as uncomfortably as an eye could. “The Drops of Relief. I’ve been hunting for ages, ever since the OLP set me on fire.”
“Bert sorry.” Bert’s shoulders slumped. “Bert never heard of drops. What drops do?”
“They provide immediate soothing relief for dry and itchy eyes.” The Eye of Soreness blinked. “Most importantly they relieve burning.”
“Oh, well that no problem.” Bert waggled his fingers and toes, then used his dark lord trope to peer beyond reality at the eye’s character sheet.
He was mildly alarmed to see that the eye was lawful evil, but he’d seemed like an all right guy so far. Bert examined the conditions, and found several. Dry Eyes, Redness, Burning, and Irritation. Bert removed them all.
The fire wreathing the eye winked out, and the yellowy film faded, and a much more normal, feline eye stared down at him. “Oh, thank you…you have no idea how many millennia I’ve been trying to do that for. I am incredibly grateful.”
“Is okay.” Bert hopped back to his feet and turned to the steps. “Bert going to go get some rest. Then Bert get ready for party!”
He gave the eye a wave, and darted off into the maze to build himself a warren.
18
Dungeon Warming Party
By the time the guests began to arrive, Bert had decorated the area around the lava pit with bright streamers he’d had stowed in his pack. A wise goblin always carried extra party streamers. Most of his party supplies were on the wagon, unfortunately, but he’d done his best with what little bit he’d had.
The balance of Bert’s time had gone to using magic to make a roof for the maze. Since he’d figured out he could make dirt mittens it hadn’t been much of a stretch to stone roofs. Bert had cheated and made the spells permanent, and within a few hours he’d covered the entire maze.
Now that the hard work had been done Bert could spend his evening socializing with other dark lords. He’d never met another dark lord, not really. White hadn’t counted, and the Kount had died before Bert could really say hello.
He waited nervously next to the punch bowl, and tried not to dwell on the fact that all the ice had already melted. Perhaps putting it near the cliff hadn’t been wise. Perhaps he could use a spell to make it cold.
“Oh! A guest.” The eye leaned down from the volcano. “Bert, I want you to meet Palpie. Palpie and I go way back.”
A cackling old man shrouded in robes zoomed down into view through the volcano. His chair had all sorts of whirring gizmos and gadgets, and a bumper sticker over his butt that read “that’s no moon.”
Palpie’s cackling stopped, and he zoomed up to Bert. “I sense much potential in you. We shall follow your career with great interest.”
“Oh, good.” Bert gave the nice old man a grin. “Bert want to learn magic. Can teach Bert?”
“Of course, my young apprentice.” The chair zoomed closer, and Palpie delivered a predatory smile.
“Hands off!” The Eye of Soreness leaned closer until it was directly over Bert. “This one is mine. Get your own protégé.”
“Fine.” Palpie waved magnanimously. “In any case, I’ve brought a gift.”
Droids began flying down the volcano, their sleek black forms zipping into the room where they could begin erecting some sort of strange device. Bert couldn’t even begin to understand what the fabulous blinking lights might do.
“This is a technobabbicus.” He waved at the device the droids had assembled. “It is designed to fill plot holes with semi-plausible-poorly-written narrative paste. I use it all the time.”
“Not another word, Palpie!” A high pitched shout came from above, and sounded like it had been echoed over a megaphone.
The outraged voice was drowned out by the sound of helicopters, and several large black machines descended into view. The lead helicopter set down at the edge of the stairs, and a Bert-sized figure leapt out.
At first Bert was excited! Someone else his size. The figure was a mouse, but stood like a human, with sunglasses and a snappy business suit. “Palpie, were you just giving away intellectual secrets?” The mouse seemed particularly annoyed.
“I was just—”
“You were nothing.” The mouse stalked over, and stabbed a finger up at the old man. “Nothing when we found you. You’d been written out, but we brought you back, just like I promised. Now dance! Dance, monkey!”
Several other figures disembarked from the helicopters, which began to rise out of view. Bert sized up the trio of newcomers, whom he assumed must be other dark lords. None of them looked very happy.
The one on the far right was a man with long dark hair in a t-shirt that read ‘Trick or Treat.’ Fortunately he wore a name tag, which Bert could now read. ‘Loki. Property of Big D.’
Next to Loki stood an interesting fellow. He had blue skin, and the biggest muscles Bert had ever laid eyes on. He must spend every day at the gym. His name tag read Thonas, and also said ‘Property of Big D.’ Thonas had a strange gauntlet on one hand with
five glowing stones set into the knuckles. Quite pretty, and Bert made a note to ask about the device as soon as he could find a polite way.
The final figure wore fine silks and bore a long thin mustache, with a magnificent black hat. His tag read Royal Vizeer Jaraf, and also had a ‘Property of Big D.’ Jaraf had a parrot on his shoulder! The bird was a wonderful shade of green, though it had pooped a less wonderful green onto Jaraf’s shoulder.
“All right, everyone present your approved gifts. Let’s get this over with.” The mouse paced back and forth, and shadowed the dark lords like a dog watching over sheep. Or a Boberton over a Bert.
“Thanks for inviting us. I don’t really get invited to many parties.” The one named Thonas gave a desultory wave. “So these are finity rocks. I guess you can have one, if you want.”
“No, that’s okay.” Bert raised a hand to forestall the man. “Bert already have too many magic rocks. In fact…Thonas want more rocks? Bert have extra.”
Perhaps this man would take the stone far away from Bert’s kingdom. Then he could go back to decorating, which was much more fun.
“No trades! Now go wait for pickup.” The mouse kicked Thonas in the shin, and the dark lord slunk back over to where the helicopters had dropped them off. “Jaraf, you’re up.”
The man with the parrot and the thin black mustache stepped up and gave Bert a low bow. When he spoke it was in an oily voice that Bert didn’t much like. Maybe that was because of the perpetual scowl, though the strange staff with the cobra head scared Bert a little. “I can see that you are a diamond in the rough, my young friend.” He leaned in closer, and whispered desperately, out of the corner of his mouth, “Help us. We’re trapped.”
“Shut up, Jaraf.” The mouse stalked over, and stomped on the vizier’s foot. “Can you not see the size of my ears? You think I can’t hear you trying to escape? We own you. There is no escape. We’ll just keep pushing the copyright, and pushing the copyright, until we own every folktale, myth, and franchise. Dance! Dance, monkey!”
The vizier heaved a put upon sigh and began a slow shuffling dance. The mouse thrust a finger at the area where Thonas already waited, and the vizier moved to join him.
“Let’s get this over with, Loki.” The mouse glared over the rim of its sunglasses at the final god, who’d neither moved nor spoken since his arrival. He wore an odd smile, and kept nodding as if agreeing with someone who wasn’t talking. “Oh…God damn it. Not again.” The mouse reached for a walkie talkie. “We’ve got a runner. Loki used an illusion again. I want that asset back in containment immediately!”
Bert was about to offer the mouse a cup of his punch, which was admittedly rather warm, but before he could, the helicopters swept back into view, and the dark lords were hustled aboard. Then the helicopters roared out of sight, and Bert was left alone with the Eye of Soreness. He tried to think of something polite to break the awkwardness.
The party had been so brief.
“Bert really like eye’s friends,” he ventured. “Seemed, ah, nice.”
“I’m terribly sorry about all that.” The eye glanced sheepishly away, down at the lava. “Things have changed a lot over the last few decades. We used to all be independent properties, you see, but then the mouse started gobbling up my friends. I’m worried they have their eye on me next.”
“Bert hope not.” He poured some punch and sipped it. It tasted of grapes! And sugar. Lots and lots of sugar. “Mouse not very nice.”
“It’s just as well.” The eye heaved a sigh, which seemed an odd thing for an eye to do. “You should probably get some rest. I have quite a few interviews lined up for tomorrow.”
Bert sipped his punch. The sudden end to the party was disappointing, but he focused on the positives. There were bound to be all sorts of fun new friends he could meet tomorrow.
Then Bert choked on his punch. How was he going to pay the monsters? They’d need some sort of treasure, wouldn’t they? He peered up at the eye, who’d been so nice to him. He didn’t want to make even more demands. Not tonight.
He would worry about how to pay the monsters in the morning. Bert tried not to think about it. Responsibility gave him hiccups.
19
Monster Interviews
The following morning Bert headed outside the labyrinth and set up a nice stone slab atop two rocks to make a sort of desk, then used his pack as a seat. He laboriously wrote out a sign that said “line begins here” and then sat down at the desk to wait for applicants to show up.
Before the sun had crested the Moist Mountains, monsters had begun creeping into view. The first were, oddly enough, a flock of seagulls. Menacing seagulls. The scary birds zoomed up to the table, and landed all in a flock.
Each bird was a ghostly white, and the lead one wore a black crown. A cloud of spectral energy surrounded the bird, who stepped up to the table as if he were the one conducting the interview. “We are the Gulls of Naz, and we number nine in total. Our power stems from the Eye of Soreness, who crafted the bracelets around our ankles. We poop for Mount Dhuuum!”
Bert sized up the gold bracelet around the bird’s ankle, and gave an approving nod since the bird seemed to be fishing for praise. “Bert very impressed. What can Naz Gulls do? Can breathe fire, or touch people and make them dead?”
The bird extended both wings and began an annoying cawing that made Bert want to smack it. It finally ceased, what felt like hours later, when it seemed to realize Bert was not impressed. The bird began a desperate rush of words. “The Naz Gulls are nearly invincible. Not by the hand of men shall we fall! That’s a real prophecy. We even got it certified. Statistically most adventurers are male, easily fifty-five percent. So most things can’t hurt us. Pleeeaaaase hire us.”
Bert again wondered how he would pay these monsters. The honorable thing would be to tell them he had no money, but Bert decided to take a risk. He would hire these Gulls, and then hope he could find some gold to pay them with.
“Okay, birds hired. Go find spot in maze.” Bert waved at the mouth of the cavern.
The birds began the annoying sound once more, which had grown much worse with all of them adding to the din. Thankfully they rushed inside the mountain, but Bert still covered his ears until they were gone.
The next monster in line might be the most curious in the growing crowd. The figure was even smaller than Bert, and slowly climbed up on top of Bert’s desk.
Bert blinked down at a sentient deck of cards, complete with spindly arms and legs, and a pair of eyes that blinked back at him. Bert cleared his throat, then pounded his gavel on the desk. “Next!”
“Hi there.” The deck waved up at him. “My name is Alot. I’m a deck of a lot of things. Have you heard of my kind?”
“No.” Bert hopped up on his chair, and leaned in to peer at the curious cards. They were exquisitely painted and seemed very magical. “Bert never heard of deck. What do?”
“Well, you leave me in a room somewhere, and wait for adventurers to find me.” The deck rubbed its hands together, and its expression reminded Bert of Jaraf’s pinched face. “If they draw a card, whatever that card says happens. They can get a wish, but it’s much more likely they’ll be whisked away to a dungeon, or cast into the void. I’ve wiped out whole parties.”
Bert eyed the cards skeptically. “No thanks. Bert not need.” He folded his arms and gave his best no nonsense stare when the card appeared about to protest. Finally it turned and dejectedly walked away.
Bert gave a relieved sigh and turned back to the crowd. The next monster in line terrified him, which probably meant it was qualified for the job. It was a giant spider, with eight eyes and dripping fangs, and a cute little pink purse.
“Hi there,” the giant spider quivered, its voice a nice feminine sound that reminded Bert of Kit. Odd for a spider. “My name is Sheila. I was here before Sore Eye. Before elves and men. And…admittedly I’ve put on weight. People mock my age and my weight all the time. It’s very rude.”
“Okay.�
� Bert felt a little bad for the spider, but wasn’t sure how that was relevant to the interview. “What can spider do?”
“Well, I can make webs. I’m an exceptional knitter.” A pair of legs produced a pair of needles. “Also my venom can kill anything, and I’m a skilled personal decorator. I have some experience typing as well.”
“Spider hired!” Bert perked up immediately. She had so many useful skills, and she seemed pleasant enough. “Please go find spot in maze.” He waved at the cavern, and the spider scuttled out of view to reveal the next monster in line.
This one gave Bert pause as it was a nuppet, the very same type of unliving creature the previous dark lord had been before White had taken his place. This nuppet wore long shaggy fur, and had a leather satchel slung over one shoulder.
As he approached, the creature reached into the bag, removed a handful of steaming brownies, and jammed the chocolate into his mouth. He took several moments to chew, then finally spoke to Bert. “Name Brownie Monster. Me love brownies. B is for brownie.”
Bert gave the nuppet an approving nod. They scared the pants off him, so maybe they would scare adventurers too. “Okay. Brownie Monster hired. Please go into maze and find spot. Next!”
The next candidate appeared promising indeed. An eight-foot-tall rhino strode up to the table. He bore a battle-axe slung over his shoulder, but currently his hands were busy with a brown sack. One hand clutched it, and the other plucked shiny objects and tossed them into his mouth.
It took Bert a few moments to realize they were marbles. A rhino that ate marbles. How marvelous. “Hullo. Tell Bert name, and what do.”
“I’m the hungry hungry rhino.” The rhino paused to toss another marble into his mouth. “I ain’t cheap to feed, but if you keep the marbles coming I’ll make sure no adventurers make it past me.”