by Allan Joyal
“It might work,” Wynterhold said softly. “If another dungeon formed the crystals, it is possible that a dungeon would be able to receive mana from them. You said they are near your gemstone?”
“Yes, they were set up around my gemstone each one pointing directly at the center of the formation. I’ve always left them alone,” Faestari said.
“Do that,” the ancient dungeon grumbled. “It seems you do have a good reason to not be too deadly.”
“Why be deadly. Some of the adventurers are fascinating to watch. And a few are friendly,” Faestari said.
“So you do talk to them,” the ancient dungeon growled.
“Why wouldn’t I? I spoke to them yesterday mostly to let them know that I was not going to randomly punish adventurers who enter my dungeon. After the last attempt to capture me, I believe the adventurers were a bit nervous about entering,” Faestari said.
“And how did they react?” Wynterhold asked.
“One guard kept trying to back away once I created an avatar,” Faestari said. “The other two listened. I actually thought I might see a group attempt to enter today. But I don’t feel anyone walking up the mountainside. It’s still a bit early though. And my orcs have a group scouting north of here.”
“Scouting?” Wynterhold asked.
“My orcs must be a bit more active than the bands in your caverns. These creatures kept trying to expand past the caves I gave them. I was tired of having to push them back and offered them a way to raid the countryside, as long as they leave the other caves and the villagers at the foot of my mountain alone,” Faestari said.
“And you expect them to obey?” the ancient dungeon asked.
“I’ve used my power to display what happens if they fail me,” Faestari said firmly. “They also have a safe home that they know I will protect. Why would they risk that to raid a single village?”
Wynterhold shook his head. “I’m not sure what we can teach you. I’ve looked at your caverns, and they are well laid out. You have a far greater variety of monsters than most dungeons. But why so few traps?”
Faestari shrugged. “At first the rooms were a bit too close together to make traps ideal. Now that I have spread out the rooms, I find that I dislike using them. After all, a spider can be fed mana and will later feed that mana back to me threefold. A pit trap with spikes at the bottom can only give me mana if an adventurer is careless and falls in.”
“But a pit trap would not require the maintenance that you appear to have to do with the orcs,” the ancient dungeon said.
“They’re orcs,” Faestari said casually. “The kobolds who occupy the first few rooms in the dungeon give me no trouble and actually worship me. The strange bug-headed humanoids that came and took over the fake dwarven citadel that I had created show no interest in spreading out. Although I might want to talk to them to see if I can improve things for them.”
“You talk to your monsters?” the ancient dungeon asked.
“How can I be sure they’ll do what I want?” Faestari asked.
“Hey Fae!” the voice of Aylia rang out. “I had a new idea. You have that one room you were thinking of filling with water. I found a type of fish that will jump out of the water to catch birds and frogs. Think you could boost them and turn them into a challenge for an adventurer who was crossing the stone bridges you planned?”
“Who is that?” the ancient dungeon boomed out.
Faestari looked over at her pond. Aylia had swam up to the shore. She was leaning half out of the water, with her elbows on the shore. The water spirit was looking up at the two avatars.
“Two avatars?” she asked. “Why are you here? I mean, Faestari isn’t a normal dungeon, but don’t tell me that you are going to destroy her.”
“Who are you?” Wynterhold asked, moving once again. He looked down at Aylia. “You appear to be a rather powerful water spirit.”
“There are many more powerful than I am,” Aylia said. “I guess I’d be considered one of Faestari’s more powerful monsters. She set up a stream through a bunch of rooms of her dungeon. The wizard who had my contract died and I was looking for a way to avoid being forced to sign a new contract and came here. Since then, I’ve been offering suggestions for one floor.”
“Two,” Faestari said. “There are two different streams now. They just link up before they emerge at the pool down by the village.”
“I thought you’d done that, but you rarely tell me what you are thinking,” Aylia said. “And its been so long since any adventurers challenged the floor. I’m bored.”
“So you find me new and more dangerous friends?” Faestari responded. “Your fish idea is good, but the first time they take an adventurer wearing metal armor off the bridge.”
“Hey, its not like I can’t show up and help,” Aylia said. “I love a good drowning.”
Faestari giggled. “Just.”
“I know, I know,” Aylia said. “You have a few favorites we have to go easy on. Not that they push past the entrance to the citadel. They seem to have lost interest in finding your heart.”
“I offer good treasures,” Faestari said. “And I sense that Betrixy will be pausing in her adventuring sometime during the winter.”
“Is she?” Aylia asked.
“If the mana flow from her last time meant what I think it means,” Faestari said. “And that group was part of the reason I’m still here. It was Gee’if and Salene that convinced Roquel not to try to kill me when Thumas came.”
“Roquel?” the ancient dungeon asked.
“She’s a spirit dancer,” Aylia said. “Or at least I think that’s what others call what she does. She has signed contracts with friendly spirits. They boost her fighting ability.”
“I’ve seen such,” the ancient dungeon said. “But I thought the art was restricted to the acolytes from Descension Island.”
“I’d have to ask her,” Faestari said. “And she was going to travel today. Several of the humans down in the village want to head to the nearest city for some reason.”
“It won’t be to bring back more dungeon killers,” Aylia said. “And if it is, we’ll stop them.”
The avatar of the Wynterhold dungeon shook his head. “You do everything wrong. Everything.”
“I’m sorry,” Faestari said quietly.
“Let me finish,” the Wynterhold dungeon snapped. “I’m an older dungeon. One of the few that this old dungeon deigns to talk to some of the time. We aren’t exactly a social group, but we do try to let the others know what the humans are doing. We’ve all learned to avoid talking to humans, and to be careful about creating an avatar.”
“I like that Faestari is willing to look human,” Aylia said jumping out of the water and rushing over to hug the startled girl.
“I can see that,” Wynterhold said. “And that is the puzzle. It seems like Faestari is a successful dungeon.”
“No one has entered for days,” Faestari said mournfully. “I’m a bit bored.”
The ancient dungeon laughed, the first real emotion the avatar had shown. “A dungeon is often bored. You know how many adventurers have tried to enter my caverns in the last three winters? None. I am almost completely forgotten.”
“You are too dangerous for most groups,” Wynterhold said. “A group that can get through Faestari’s little dwarven citadel might be able to get through the first ten rooms of my maze. And I wouldn’t ask anyone who can’t do forty rooms of my dungeon to consider visiting you.”
“I’m old, and my traps and monsters have been refined for ages. But I richly reward those who can brave fifteen or more chambers in my dungeon,” the ancient dungeon said.
“If I see that a group is ready, I’ll send them to Wynterhold for more challenge,” Faestari said. “I’m happy being a dungeon mostly for beginners.”
“And what if a powerful group shows?” the ancient dungeon asked.
“I have saved up a large amount of treasure,” Faestari said. “When they reach the end of the rooms I ha
ve filled with creatures, I can reward them.”
“What of your heart?” Wynterhold asked.
Faestari pointed to the east, almost directly at the village just outside her domain. “The last room in my dungeon is just a short distance in that direction. But my heart is buried to the west. It’s more than one hundred feet below us. No group can reach it unless they use magic to dig through solid stone.”
“My mistress learned that lesson,” Aylia said proudly.
“It’s always been like that,” Faestari said. “I never felt a need to keep my heart right next to me, and this way I control where the edges of my domain are. I don’t want the village within it.”
“Wise,” the ancient dungeon said. “So will you obey?”
“Obey what?” Faestari asked.
“Dungeons need to have rules,” the ancient dungeon said.
“Look, I won’t stop talking to the humans. I like some of them. And it might help keep them from deciding to destroy me. They also may provide information on the Kindred. I have reason to believe they were involved in at least one of the attempts to capture me. I will help other dungeons as I can, and I’ll pass on any information I learn that is important. What more can I do?” Faestari asked.
“Control your dungeon and your monsters,” the ancient dungeon said. “Do not anger adventurers. I guess you talking to them will work. But warn adventurers that you are unique there. I would not care to speak to any adventurer. They are nothing more than meat.”
“Fine,” Faestari said with a sigh of long suffering. “I understand. Is there more? I do have some new caverns I’m trying to build.”
“I think we’ve heard enough for now,” Wynterhold’s avatar said quickly. He put a hand on the arm of the other avatar. “Let’s go.”
“I can’t believe we aren’t forcing the dungeon to change,” the ancient dungeon muttered.
“She has done no harm and is not a threat to cause adventurers to try to kill other dungeons,” Wynterhold said. “We should return to our own caverns.”
“I go,” the ancient dungeon said. His avatar vanished. The Wynterhold avatar slammed his hands together.
“Damn. You better prove to be a benefit. I haven’t seen him this angry since the kingdom of Gullcrest was destroyed in a mage war,” Wynterhold said.
Faestari nodded. “I don’t know what more I can do, but I try,” she replied.
A whirlwind rose up around the avatar of Wynterhold. A moment later the winds vanished, leaving Faestari and Aylia standing alone in her heart chamber.
“Wow,” Aylia said. “Two dungeons. Who were they?”
“The ugly dwarf is Wynterhold’s avatar. He has been helping me since I woke up,” Faestari said.
“He’s a bit gruff, but seemed like he wouldn’t be too bad. But I think he’s aligned mostly with wind. I probably couldn’t find a good chamber there. What about the other one?” Aylia asked.
“I don’t know if his dungeon has a name. He said he’s so old that the dungeon is mostly forgotten. It started out as the real dungeon for an island kingdom on the Shipwrack Sea,” Faestari said.
“Psyack? That dungeon was around when Psyack still ruled over that area? But that was before humans settled this part of the land. Back then humans just had a few towns on the north coast of the Shipwrack sea,” Aylia said.
“You’ve seen it?” Faestari asked.
“I’ve only been aware for about seventy years,” Aylia said. “But several of the wizards who claimed my contract spent years studying everything they could find about Psyack. Supposedly the rulers were a race of lizardmen. But no one knows where the capital city of their empire stood. I always thought it was on the mainland.”
“The dungeon said it was on the same island. At least one of the kings liked watching his prisoners suffer in the maze he had created,” Faestari replied.
“I wouldn’t tell anyone about that,” Aylia said. “There are wizards who would do anything to discover where that city is.”
Faestari shrugged. “Not like I can tell them. All I know is that the dungeon is far to the south. Besides. I should probably look into the room we were going to put your killer fish in next spring.”
“We can’t do it now?” Aylia asked.
“I need more water. I have the cisterns prepared and once the snow starts melting it will be easy to capture enough water to fill the rooms we planned. But for now, we can just set up the rooms,” Faestari said.
“Fine, let’s go,” Aylia said. She ran and dove back into the pool. Faestari watched the ripples on the surface of the water fade and then turned to walk to her stairway.
Chapter 4: A Ride to Civilization
As Faestari was making her way to her unfinished section of caverns. Dared, Jerisa and Roquel were carefully placing saddles on their horses. Sergeant Koltiss was standing nearby. The guard leader was clearly uneasy as he shifted stance constantly.
“I should be sending guards with you,” the sergeant complained once Dared had finished tightening the girth on his saddle.
“Roquel has promised to protect both of us,” Dared said. “And right now you are the best person to leave in charge here. I don’t expect problems, but.”
“Oh, I talked to Halvor,” Roquel said as she jumped up into her saddle. Her horse danced sideways a few steps before halting.
“Who?” Jerisa asked. She had finished with her girth and was looking over at Dared. “And can you help me mount my love?”
“Halvor?” Dared said. “Isn’t he one of the members of the Flame Vultures?” He handed the reins of his horse to Koltiss and then walked over to help his wife into the saddle.
“He is,” Roquel said as Dared help Jerisa lift her leg over the back of her horse. “The man promised to stop by Colasmel’s shop to purchase a few more potions before they leave today. He’ll try to tell towns along their route to Dungeon Sea Spray.”
“That might help,” Dared said.
“I’m not sure how much. He says they expect it to take almost fifty days to reach the dungeon. I guess they have to head north for a couple days before they reach a pass through the mountains,” Roquel said.
“And they won’t run into any villages until they are out of the mountains?” Dared asked.
“There might be some since he said they should start seeing people after about ten days. But it sounds like no wagons can make the trip,” Roquel said.
“More things to investigate in the future,” Dared said. “Koltiss, I know you are shorthanded, but see if you can send a scout to see where the Flame Vultures camp tonight. We might want to build a guard tower and inn there in the future.”
“Are you sure you want to plan for that?” Koltiss asked.
“It might never be needed, but I’d rather have a guard tower in place than be surprised,” Dared said. “Now, we should get going. Narhert left before the sun rose.”
“Why?” Jerisa asked as Dared coaxed his mount into motion. Roquel held her horse back as Jerisa’s mount rushed forward. The married couple was soon riding side by side as Roquel followed.
Jerisa’s left knee was touching her husband’s right knee as they circled the village. They could see the foundation of the planned wall. There were two separate trenches dug. The interior one had a couple of rows of stones in place.
“Why are there two trenches?” Jerisa asked as they reached the final corner and began following the wagon trail to the southeast.
“They will fill the area in between the two trenches with dirt and crushed stone,” Dared said. “It will strengthen the walls.”
Jerisa just looked over at the foundation. “They’d finished so little.”
“The tavern was more important,” Dared said. “We needed the shelter it provides. And its going to be the southeast corner of the wall.”
“No tower there?” Roquel asked.
“Actually I believe that there is a stairway already built into the back of the tavern,” Dared said. “It will connect with the top of the
wall so that guards can protect the city. But do you really expect trouble? Look at the lands around here.”
The trio were following the cart path. It was not easy to spot as the tall autumn grasses had been bent over by the winds the day before. In some places the path was covered by fallen stalks of grass and they had to scan the ground to see the imprints left by the wagons Narhert was leading.
Jerisa sighed. “If I hadn’t known that Narhert was a short distance ahead of us, I couldn’t be sure there was any sign of a wagon’s passing.”
Dared laughed. “That’s something that will change with time. Once the village is built and we have any manpower to spare I plan on having some of the workers put in a stone road from here to the pass.”
“Why?” Jerisa asked.
“Because it will take a day to arrive at the pass. If we want to have merchants visiting, we’ll need to provide shelter for them. I expect we’ll build an inn as well as a stable at the pass. I might recommend that someone who breeds mules and horses establish himself near there so there is a steady supply,” Dared said.
“No oxen?” Roquel asked.
“They would work, but I expect that most merchants will prefer mules. And we know that the merchants will want guards on horses,” Dared said.
Roquel kicked her heels to speed up her horse. She rode up on Dared’s left. The area near the road was uncultivated and wild so she did not worry about her horse trampling anything.
“Where are the farms?” Jerisa asked.
“None of them have tried to cultivate this area,” Dared said. “Most are clustered along one of the streams that flow out of the mountains and along the valley. There is one set to the east of here that has dug a well to provide the water their fields will need. You should see it if you look carefully.”
Jerisa stood up in her stirrups and raised her left hand to shield her eyes from the sun. “It is four brown objects just before the hills rise up?”
“They used the soil and some of the water to build huts,” Dared said. “I was surprised by how quickly they were able to put together their shelters.”
