Legendary Dungeon Seed

by Marc Robert

  A gleeful expression spread across the young dungeon lord’s face and he began rubbing the palms of his hands together like some grizzled old butcher about to divvy up a choice piece of meat.

  Now these are something, Osman thought, THESE are something indeed!

  Maybe he wouldn’t have to hibernate after all.

  Maybe these little mushrooms could give him exactly what he needed …

  He plucked the first of the three red caps, removing the dainty head of the ’shroom itself from its thick, white stalk pretty roughly, even haphazardly, because of his immense Hunger and popped into his mouth without a second thought. And then he began to chew, and chew and chew and chew until the bitter, wonderful mushroom was nothing more than pulp and saliva, which he greedily swallowed, thankful that there were still two more left to sate his raging appetite.

  {+50 MP} appeared in a gleaming green font that hung in the air before Osman’s eyes before bursting into a shower of coins accompanied by a glorious cha-ching! sound effect.

  Holy shit! That one mushroom cap was worth 50 MP alone!!

  Osman checked his Soul Stats and, sure enough, he had gone from 0 to 50 just by eating that one, single cap. He suddenly got quite excited! There were two more mushrooms left, which meant that — if each one of them granted him 50 Mana Points as well— he’d have a total of 150 to work with: way more than enough to start to make some serious headway in the game.

  Maybe LEGENDARY DUNGEON SEED wasn’t gonna be so bad, after all?

  He was giddy at the thought!!!

  But of course he was also rather wary of that infinity symbol (∞) in his stats, which represented the Mana Point Cap — or, in this case, the lack of a cap — on his MP. He had never seen an uncapped MP count in Other Earth before, and he’d certainly never played as a race or class who could have an infinite amount of mana. Although, he had read in one of Simulah’s “Lore Of Legends” manuals that higher level infernals (the more intelligent or complex ones, at least) did sometimes have this particular attribute. And a living dungeon was, of course, a VERY complex being, so it made a lot of sense.

  Yet, still, Osman was wary.

  Having an infinite number of anything wasn’t always a good thing. And he wasn’t quite sure if he really liked the idea of being a giant “mana battery.” Or, at least, of having the potential to become one. It put a big, old target on his back. Which, he guessed, also made sense, him being a dungeon and all, but still … it was a huge responsibility, and one that could lead him down The Dark-Hand Path, if he wasn’t mindful. Plus, he had a sneaking suspicion that that infinity symbol was the root of the insatiable Hunger that had awoken in him since he had elected to play this particular module.

  However, he wasn’t gonna let those suspicions bring him down. Not right now. Not while he was so excited. Not while he still had two more mushrooms left to eat!

  So Osman pushed all those thoughts out of the forefront of his brain and plucked another red cap (a little bit less roughly this time, now that he realized just how much MP they were potentially worth) and placed it — rather delicately — on his tongue, meaning to savor the taste. Which turned out to be quite awful, actually. Like old sweat socks … or something worse. He was so hungry when he ate the first one that he barely even noticed it. But now, oh now: he could taste the taint :-(

  He squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to think about it as he started to chew. It took him much longer this time around and, after a bit of gagging and desperately pinching the bridge of his nose, he worked the mushroom into a lumpy paste in his mouth and swallowed it down.

  But …

  … no notification of a mana increase appeared!

  In fact, nothing happened at all for a few heart-stopping seconds.

  Osman was just about to curse his bad luck when, out of thin air, three items coalesced before his eyes, hovering just out of reach.

  His immediate, gut reaction was one of utter disappointment that there had been no mana bump, as he had expected there to be. But then Osman actually processed what was hovering before him and his excitement grew three-fold!

  The first item was an {Oak Staff}

  The second an {Iron Rod}

  And the third a {Stalactite Dagger}

  He touched the dagger first, thinking how cool it looked. But also: how vicious! (Even now he refused to look up at the ceiling, or to think about all the jagged stalactites hanging there, nary forty feet from the top of his skull!) Such an item made sense, of course; it was: of this place, and Osman could not discount the huge potential value of that.

  But then he examined the {Oak Staff}. It was finely polished and half-a-head taller than he was, its tip a gnarled tangle of petrified roots. He could imagine a wizard or mage wielding such an item, and he had seen in his Soul Stats that his Primary Skill as a dungeon core was Sorcery, so maybe the staff was the best choice for him?

  Maybe …

  … maybe …

  But the {Iron Rod} also had its appeal. Forged of pure black iron in the pale fires of The Shadow Keep (or so Osman guessed, having read about such weapons in one of the monster manuals), it was rather fearsome and imposing, with its bulbous head and dragon-bone handle. A perfect item for a would-be dungeon lord or king, since it already resembled a ruler’s scepter, while also being akin to the {Oak Staff} in that its design would allow the wielder to use it as a wand, to focus and amplify magic spells.

  Osman’s heart was starting to race a bit faster at the thought of all the possibilities.

  And then another quality of the {Iron Rod} dawned on him. It was not only a scepter and a wand, but could function quite nicely as a mace as well. Which cheered his heart, he having so recently lost his beloved rune-sword to all this bullshit.

  He would take it!

  And he reached out and did so right then and there, the other two items disappearing instantly.

  The weight of the rod in his grip felt good; it felt right, and Osman was pleased with his choice.

  {You have acquired … THE IRON ROD OF POWER} appeared in the air before him accompanied by an uplifting bliiiiimmmp! sound that he knew meant that the item had been successfully added to his inventory.

  He was about to check his Soul Stats, to see if any more information about the rod was included there when a second notification suddenly replaced the one above with an upbeat brrr-br! sound — as if made by an old tin bugle — which caused Osman’s heart to leap:

  {You have gained your Secondary Skill … BLUDGEON WEAPONS: (1) Iron Rod Of Power (As Mace)}

  AWESOME!

  Awesome, awesome, awesome!!! He had been totally right about the rod being able to double as a mace. That definitely would come in handy when it came to fighting off raiders …

  Oh shit! He hadn’t really thought about that until just now, but THAT was probably his main objective, him being a dungeon and all: to build a labyrinth that was enticing enough to attract adventurers while simultaneously having to defend that labyrinth against any and all attacks. That’s right: he wasn’t a holy warrior anymore; he was a dungeon crafter! Which meant that he needed to start thinking like a base-builder. And, what’s more, he needed to learn how to grow — and to cultivate!

  Maybe he actually should slow down a bit and think things through a little better, come up with some kind of master plan, in case he ended up being here for an extended period of time.

  Osman thought about that, and then he thought again about Pelt, with her pixieish hair and her bra and panties made of green leaves and old twine. Her perky breasts and huge, gossamer wings. Her pouty mouth … He wondered again where the dungeon sprite was and why she hadn’t appeared when he had elected to play. He could really use her help right about now! Didn’t she say she was to be his guiding spirit?

  He really wished he had paid closer attention to all the weird things that she had tried to tell him.

  That prophecy …

  … his so-called “great destiny” …

  All her manic chatter
.

  Dammit!

  Maybe he had chosen poorly by picking the rod?!

  Or maybe he should have been more careful plucking that first mushroom cap from its stalk? Maybe if he had taken more care, he would have found that it was actually worth 100 MP … or 200 … or more!!!

  He shook his head.

  He was second-guessing himself again, just like he often did when he had been playing as a paladin.

  Having sated his Hunger a little had made him a bit more rational, but — to be honest — Osman wasn’t so sure if that was the way to go here. Maybe he shouldn’t over-think things too much, or second-guess himself. Maybe, instead, he should just lean into The Hunger and let it drive him. After all, that IS what dungeons did, right?!

  And perhaps THAT could be the foundation of his plan. At least a loose foundation, to get himself started. He couldn’t undo the decisions that he had already made (and, truthfully, he didn’t want to), but he still had one more mushroom left to eat, and who knows: maybe it would allow him to conjure up Pelt after all …

  Spells & Skills

  Osman eyed the last mushroom.

  He started to work up some saliva in his mouth by swallowing a few times, trying to prepare his poor tongue for the fetid taste that he knew was about to assault it. Then he ever-so-delicately plucked the remaining red cap, swiftly separating it from its thick white stalk while simultaneously ensuring that the entirety of the cap remained intact and undamaged. His stomach growled as he did all this and that raging inferno in the shape of an infinity symbol blazed in his mind.

  But, despite all that, he managed to keep a steady hand.

  Osman even took a moment to peer down at the tiny white dots “sprinkled” across the moist flesh of the mushroom cap.

  They looked a bit like sugar crystals, he thought.

  Their complex crystalline structures were totally fascinating to him, and he peered down at them for a long, long while, each and every one, as if a hawk-eyed jeweler assessing a cache of uncut gems. Until, suddenly, Osman’s mind’s eye flung itself wide open — wider than it had ever opened before! — good and evil; light and darkness; yin and yang; the roots, branches, and trunk of The World Tree itself all rushing through the undulating gray matter of his brain in a fraction of an inch of a millisecond of time.

  And this was BEFORE he had even eaten the thing!

  Brrr-br!

  {You have gained your Tertiary Skill … MANA CORE CULTIVATION}

  The young dungeon lord’s eyes widened …

  He hadn’t expected to gain a new skill just by examining the intricate structures of one of the red caps, but it made a lot of sense. And the fact that doing that had opened up his whole entire Mana Core Cultivation skill tree made EVEN MORE sense to him. He needed to start thinking more like a Master or an Elder now and less like a Novice or Apprentice, even though he was still a noob dungeon. This wasn’t like his old Paladin class. He was much more like Rania’s lord and master now — even at this fledgling stage — with the ability to take other players and NPCs under his aegis and craft and cultivate them so that they could reach their fullest possible potential … all in service to him and his dungeon, of course!

  He smiled to himself and it was not unlike that smile that had lingered on the reflection of his face in that puddle when he had first awoken in this place. Something fiendish, something strange. He felt like laughing, but did not laugh …

  This profound new skill was an AWESOME addition to his Soul Stats, and one that would definitely come in handy later!

  However, before Osman could think much more about all the numerous ways he could cultivate other beings’ mana cores, he started to sneeze. He sneezed and sneezed and couldn’t really stop himself from sneezing. He was genuinely having a sneezing fit and looked around, wondering if there was a cat down here with him or something like that. He was allergic to cats, which was a friggin’ nightmare since he worked part-time at a pet store back in the real world. But, of course, he knew that he was all alone in the cavernous room …

  He glanced around again, just to make sure, and shook his head.

  That was weird!

  After a minute or two more of sniffling and sneezing and wiping his runny nose on the sleeve of his tunic, Osman finally got a hold of himself and turned his attention back to the tiny mushroom cap in the palm of his hand. He knew that it was gonna taste REALLY AWFUL, like that funky medicine his dad used to make him take when he was little. But, just like with diving head-first into the ocean in the dead of winter (which was something else he used to do with his dad): he shouldn’t think about it, but just jump right in!

  He pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb and popped the red cap into his mouth, chomping down on it with his back teeth while actively trying to avoid touching the mushroom’s moist flesh with his tongue.

  He could do without another taste of taint, thank you very much!

  Osman had even considered swallowing the red cap whole to avoid tasting it altogether, except he was afraid that that might diminish whatever additional item, or skill, or mana bump he would otherwise get from this oh-so-potent fungus.

  Three words appeared before his eyes in that gleaming green font:

  {Fireball}

  {Silvertongue}

  {Imbue}

  OH BOY! Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy … He knew what that meant: those were spells!!!

  Osman could do this all day, really: he was having so much fun!

  He hadn’t thought that he would get to pick out his own magic spells. As a paladin, he had never gotten to choose those himself. Instead, he had been assigned divine incantations by his mentor at The White Keep. He didn’t have any say in the matter, none at all: he got whatever Sir Karras opted to give him, like it or not.

  But here, now — as a dungeon core — things seemed to be totally different. Osman seemed to be able to exercise a lot more free will, and he was liking that quite a lot!

  {Fireball} was the obvious choice of course, which was probably why the game had listed it first. A great, classic, go-to spell that packed a punch and let your enemies know that you meant business.

  Also: FIRE!

  Who didn’t like that?

  Who didn’t like fire?!

  It could illuminate your way, incinerate your foes, and make you feel like a goddamn dragon. Only The Hound could object to anything fire-related (for obvious reasons!). But Osman wasn’t Sandor Clegane, nor did he have that kind of awful childhood history with this, perhaps the coolest of the four base elements.

  Nonetheless, {Fireball} did seem perhaps a tad bit too obvious, and Osman didn’t want his dungeon to be obvious in any way. In fact, the very opposite: he wanted to cultivate the unexpected whenever and wherever possible within his domain.

  So: {Silvertongue} — what the eff was that?!

  The fact that Osman actually had no idea made this spell a much more likely choice for him than {Fireball}, which every raider and his mother knew, and probably had a counter spell for, or some enchanted ring or armor that made them resistant to the flames.

  {Silvertongue}, on the other hand, was a complete unknown, and unknowns were good. Unknowns would keep adventurers on their toes. Unknowns would raise Osman’s dungeon’s reputation in the local community, and then throughout the wider kingdom itself. (Later, of course: when survivors started making their way back to the surface, and getting drunk, and telling tales of all their uncanny experiences inside The Spar Dungeon at all the greasy little taverns and inns between the dungeon itself and the great city of Esk, attracting more mana-sacks in the form of stupid raiders to feed upon!) Yes, unknowns and the alluring mysteries they conjured could be the VERY KEY to Osman’s survival: he knew that; oh, he knew that all too well!

  The young dungeon lord was totally sold before even considering his third option and reached out to select {Silvertongue} and be done with it when something inside himself stopped him cold. He pulled back his hand from the spell’s name as if
his fingers had been scorched by a white-hot fire!

  That flaming infinity symbol roiled in his mind!

  But the accompanying feeling was somehow … DIFFERENT this time.

  This time, it wasn’t just the insatiable Hunger that Osman felt, but something like a sixth sense warning him of an absolutely awful event that was about to occur. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and the hair along his arms as well, that overturned figure-eight pulsing in his mind’s eye, giving him the impression that his fingers had been burnt, or were just about to be.

  The Hunger coursed through the whole of his being then, even more immense and demanding than it had been before.

  How could that be?!

  He had just eaten three whole mushroom caps!