Dungeon Core Academy 2

by Alex Oakchest

  Huh. I really heard the emotion in his voice now. Say what you will about Godwin, but I didn’t doubt that he cared for the rest of the Wrotun.

  “I want to hear your views. As you know, I try my best to foster an air of openness, and I like to think I am an amiable and approachable fellow. I only ask that you listen to me, first. To begin, I must acknowledge that I have made a mistake. And that mistake was purchasing our cores.”

  The room exploded into a chorus of murmurs now. I couldn’t pick one sentence out from the next, nor did I recognize any of those who were talking. But Godwin didn’t bang his staff now; instead, he waited for the noise to die of its own accord. It seemed that he knew how to read a room, but I guessed that came with hundreds of years of practice.

  “I am sure most of you know the details of what happened today, such as they are. We are still unsure of the particulars, and I have asked those who were present to refrain from discussing some of the more sensitive aspects.

  Yet, one thing can’t be denied, nor ignored. A cherished Wrotun leaf lost his life in the dungeon near the mana spring. The very dungeon guarded by Core Beno; the one supposed to make us safer.

  I know what some of you are thinking. It was my idea to pool our scant resources to purchase the cores. I even had to talk many of you around to my plans. I made promises to you. This is why, my dear ones, I must say something you won’t often hear from me; I have failed you.

  Entrusting me with your futures was a gift, and I have mistreated it. I did not mean to do so; you people are my life. But intention is a horse that sometimes unsaddles its rider. I had imagined that a core from the esteemed Dungeon Core Academy would ensure our safety for generations to come, but I fear the arrow we have shot has rebounded, planting itself in our chests.”

  He was silent then, giving them all the chance to comprehend his words. He really knew how to play a room for effect.

  I wished I could say that I didn’t believe what I was hearing from Godwin, but it didn’t come as a surprise. I knew that the First-Leaf had been up to something, with how quick he had been to point his staff at Gary.

  That had been an understandable reaction on its own, but when he had cast his spell to mute Gary, I knew he was up to something. Why mute him instead of letting me question him to find out what had happened?

  He had distrusted Jahn and me from the outset, which didn’t make any sense. Bringing us here was his idea, as he said himself. Why would he be so quick to blame me for this? Why hadn’t he even talked to me about it?

  “It is with a heavy heart, that I must make a recommendation,” said Godwin. “We have the Seekers to think about, yes. But to my mind, we have brought an even greater danger to our own doorstep, and we have opened the door and invited it in. Once in our home, it has begun to terrorize us.”

  Terrorize? I might be a dungeon core, but I mind my own business. All I cared about was killing heroes. And Seekers, since that was my job.

  But now I heard murmurs of agreement that sounded like they came from all sides of the room. This wasn’t going well for me.

  “My friends, my family. My fellow leaves, both longstanding and newly grown. I am a gnome here before you admitting his faults, and seeking to rectify them. Put simply; we will never be safe while the cores are here.

  We must remove them. We must tear them from their dungeons and cast them out.”

  A voice shouted now. “How can we ever be safe if they live, First-Leaf? Cores have wicked hearts. They will plot revenge.”

  “Ah. I had hoped to avoid more bloodshed. They are conscious beings, after all. You make a good point, Second-Leaf Rushden. We must not just remove them, but destroy them. I can do that.

  But mark my words; the cores are devious, clever, and dangerous. They will know of our intentions before we can get too close. We must gather in force and remove them. Bring them to me, and I will destroy them before your very eyes.”

  “What about their traps?” shouted a woman.

  “Galatee can command them to deactivate their traps. That small act of mercy is allowed to us, at any rate. We will not lose more lives destroying these foul beings.”

  “Then why do we need a force?”

  “Because,” said Godwin, “A first-leaf who makes a mistake and learns, is perhaps forgivable. One who refuses to accept his warning is no better than the cores themselves.”

  I knew one thing then. Destroying me had always been Godwin’s purpose for the meeting. He had maneuvered his people so that one of them actually suggested it, but that had been his whole plan.

  Why? That was what I didn’t understand. They had brought me here; I hadn’t asked to come. What did Godwin have against me? Had I accidentally killed his cat or something?

  One thing I knew for sure; it wasn’t about the dead Rushden boy.

  In fact, I was beginning to suspect that Godwin and his spells had played a part in the boy’s demise. It wasn’t a stretch to imagine that a mage could cast a spell that worked its way through the dungeon, without the mage himself having to move.

  I might have my suspicions, but I wouldn’t know for sure. In any case, it didn’t matter now.

  I needed to forget hows and whys. I needed to do what I did best.

  Someone was coming to destroy me. They sure as well weren’t heroes, but I would make sure they died like them.

  Just to be clear, I don’t mean they will die honorably. I mean that I’ll slaughter the hell out of them.

  CHAPTER 23

  By the time First-Leaf Godwin reached his quarters, he felt like his head was going to explode. The pain was the worst he’d felt in decades. He staggered inside and shut the door. A scream built in his chest, but he held it in.

  He began to whimper. He couldn’t help it, the pain was just too intense. His cat approached him, but he couldn’t stop to greet him. He staggered through the quarters and to his bedchamber.

  There, he picked up one of his feathered pillows, put it to his face, and he finally let loose the shriek of pain.

  The pillow absorbed the noise. Some leaked out, and his concerned cat leaped on the bed now, but Godwin carried on screaming until his lungs ached and he couldn’t even force a whimper from his throat.

  Then he slumped onto the bed, exhausted.

  How long would this go on for? It had been almost a year since he’d last partaken in mana from the spring. A year without it, and his body still cried out for it. As far as he knew he was the only adult who wasn’t drinking or bathing from the spring.

  And yet, a full year had passed, and he missed it with an intensity he’d never felt about anything else. It shamed him to say that he didn’t even miss his dear wife this much. Logically, he did, but physically his body begged him for mana.

  The worst thing was that without it, he felt himself dying. He’d taken too much of it over the years, and the effect was irreversible. It had extended his life beyond what should have been possible, and without his crutch, his life was slipping.

  This was why they had to leave. The mana springs would be the end of them all if they stayed. If they left, they still had a chance.

  The babes and children would learn to live without it. Small mercy at least that they weren’t given their first taste of mana until they reached adulthood. Even the third and fourth leaves hadn’t been on it long enough for an incurable addiction.

  But Godwin? His life was gone. He only hoped he could give what little he had left to save his people. The only way to do that was to get far, far away from the mana springs.

  He felt something furry settle on his hand, looking for warmth.

  “We’re almost there,” said Godwin.

  He heard a purr in response.

  “If we destroy the cores, they will have no choice but to leave this place. I couldn’t persuade them to leave the springs behind, so I had to deceive them. I just have to hope that with the cores gone, they see how impossible it will be to defend against the Seekers. Then we will have to go.”

 
A mighty coughing fit overtook him then, so Godwin let it all out, and after that, he closed his eyes.

  CHAPTER 24

  I let out a big laugh. The kind that, if I had a body, you’d class as a belly laugh. I couldn’t help it, and I didn’t even try to hide it.

  Yeah, I should have been worried, but instead, I was laughing. They thought they could destroy me. Really?. A bunch of cave dwellers who had spent their lives suckling on mana. They thought they could destroy the very core they bought to protect them.

  I guessed that the main fallacy in this was their belief that Galatee could order me to disarm my traps. There’s no such order, no rule that says that should happen. I was the one who told her that, and she’d told the First-Leaf in turn. They were operating under a misapprehension that would get them killed.

  And I’d be the one to make sure that happened. It was time to rig this dungeon up with more traps than a cheesemaker’s shop floor during mouse breeding season.

  This time, I needed to change my focus. My enemies would come from the west, from the direction of the caves, and they’d know the route to my core room.

  I wondered how much time I had left. I guessed it’d take them a couple of hours. That meant it was safer to bank on one hour.

  Using my core voice, I gave a command. “Everyone to the loot room.”

  We met in the largest space in the dungeon, the room Wylie had excavated to become the loot chest room. There was Tomlin, Shadow, Maginhart, and all the other lovely kobolds I had birthed.

  Ugh. Even saying birthed in my head sounded weird. I’ll stick with saying created.

  I couldn’t help but notice that Tomlin and Shadow were holding hands, and they were trying to be subtle about it. Damn kobolds and their foolish ideas of romance.

  Nearby were a few more kobold miners. Then there was my anti-seeker squad; the eight kobolds led by the level 15 bard Brecht. The squad was made from a mixture of the ranger, warrior, bard, and barbarian classes, and they were one of my toughest offensive squads.

  Finally, there was the hivemind boss monster, represented now by a single dead-eyed bone guy, since the main hive lived on the melding room ceiling.

  Looking at them all, I was proud of what I’d done. It wasn’t too long ago that I had made my very first kobold, Tomlin, and that had been a strain on my essence.

  At the same time, I was struck with the idea of absence. That Gary and Wylie should be here.

  “Tomlin wonders if Dark Lord will talk,” said Tomlin. “He feels that the silence is awkward. Dark Lord is not known for keeping his words to himself.”

  A few kobold miners laughed now. Brecht idly drummed his tambourine, which actually added to the tension. I mean come on; when you’re already tense, the last thing you need is a drumbeat.

  “I suppose you all know what happened yesterday with the idiot goatief boy. Well, there has been a development,” I said.

  I explained what I had heard in the meeting. Starting with how they blamed us for the boy’s death, and what Godwin had persuaded them to do about it.

  “Then surely, the best option is for us to leave?” asked Shadow.

  “If it were as simple as that, I would. But Galatee holds Jahn and my deeds. We can’t stray from her.”

  “Then she can destroy you.”

  “Not quite. I’m still a free-thinking being, and she can’t force me to do anything here. She certainly can’t force me to destroy myself. The only thing she can do is prevent me from fleeing.”

  “And I take it the same restrictions apply to us, but placed there by yourself?” asked Shadow.

  I might have known. Always thinking of herself, of escape.

  Other dungeon cores would have answered that question by smiting her down. Making an example of her. The theory of tyranny wasn’t just a way of a core being mean, it was a legitimate dungeon ruling technique.

  Maybe I had to change that part of me. I had always treated the creatures in my dungeon as their own people, but what did that bring me?

  Insubordination. Guilt. A feeling of sadness when they died, because I had made the fatal mistake of seeing them as something other than tools.

  Some overseers would be scowling if they could see me now, and perhaps it was time to make an example of Shadow. Now, more than ever, because I would soon have an invasion on my doorstep.

  I was about to speak when a voice beat me to it.

  “Tomlin will fight for Dark Lord,” he said. “And he will fight for his clan. Shadow will fight for hers. Maginhart, Brecht, and strange mushroom beast will fight. We all fight for the clan.”

  “Right,” I said. “Besides, I can destroy you if you don’t.”

  That seemed to do the trick.

  “Let’s talk defenses and traps,” I said. “But first, I need two things. I need someone to get a message to Core Jahn.”

  “If only someone had given you a cryssstal that accomplissshed that,” said Maginhart.

  “Hey! Without deconstructing it, I’d never have known that our owners were planning to kill us. Now, someone needs to leave the dungeon and sneak through the cavern and then get to the other side, where Jahn is guarding the surface door. And I say guarding in the loosest sense of the word.”

  “This leaf will do that,” said Warrane.

  All gazes turned toward the three-eyed, green-skinned teen who had just entered the loot room. One kobold snarled at him. If you’ve ever heard a kobold snarl, you’ll know just what a pathetic gesture that was.

  I understood the sentiment, though. I had come to see Warrane as a friend, what with his unbending desire to restore honor and his utter willingness to serve me, as well as the Soul Bard book club we had started. But things had changed. The Wrotuns were my enemy.

  “Brecht, don’t let him take another step.”

  Brecht the kobold bard faced Warrane now. He held out his giant tambourine. He fixed Warrane with a menacing snare, and then began to tease out a drumbeat. He did this slowly, as if he was trying to make it seem sinister.

  “Lesson learned,” I said. “Never use a bard to make a threat. Warrane, I’m sure you appreciate that you’re wildly outnumbered here, so you can spare me a show of force by agreeing I could kill you if I wished.”

  Warrane, to his credit, didn’t back down from meeting the gazes of the dungeon creatures. “This leaf understands.”

  “And furthermore, you can probably understand my reluctance to let you stay, given you have just come from a meeting of your people where it was agreed to kill me.”

  He looked surprised now. “Core Beno knows? How?”

  “I have my ways.”

  “Deconsssstructed crysssstal dusssst,” said Maginhart.

  “Shut up, kobold. You’re meant to leave things vague and unspoken. That’s how a dark lord fosters an air of mystery.”

  “Sssorry,” said Maginhart, then spoke to Warrane. “Hisss Dark Magnificence hassss his wayssss.”

  “This leaf had come to warn him of Godwin’s plan. To help him escape the cavern,” said Warrane.

  “Really?”

  Warrane nodded. “He has always served Core Beno properly in the time he has known him, has he not?”

  “That’s true, but these are your people. As much as we enjoy having you around, that simple fact precludes trust.”

  “This leaf’s people have called him a rotten leaf from a blackened branch for most of his life. He has worked to restore honor. Taken the tasks no other leaves would consider. Yet, honor does not come. Only Core Beno has ever treated him as an equal.”

  “I’m an ass, Warrane. I’m a murderous lord of a dungeon. I kill heroes. Even lads your age, sometimes. Maybe I didn’t insult you just because your parents left this stinking pit, but I’m no angel of light, let me tell you.”

  “This leaf believes that if Core Beno leaves by the surface door right now, his kobolds could carry him away before Godwin and the other leaves get here.”

  “We’ve already walked down that road warren. As good
as your intentions are, it won’t work. Nevertheless, you bring up a good point. I can’t leave this place without Galatee’s permission. But all of you, my kobolds and my weird fungi creatures, you can leave, if you wish. As your creator, I can grant that.”

  There was a murmuring now. Following Godwin’s lesson, I waited for it to die down.

  “This will be a bloody battle,” I said. “I know I should be ruling you by utter tyranny, but a core cannot change who he is. Or some crap like that. All I’ll say is this; I have come to regard you as friends, and I don’t want to see you give your lives unwillingly. Anyone who wishes to live can leave now with my blessing.”

  Every kobold in the room shook their heads, which was what I’d banked on. They were loyal to me since I treated them right. By giving them a chance to leave before the battle, I had doubled their loyalty now that they had willingly chosen to fight.

  All except one.

  “Thanks, Dark Core, Magnificent Gem, whatever you like to be called,” said Shadow, running to the room exit. “Thanks for the roll in the hay, Tomlin. A good way to pass the time. See you around, chums.”

  And then Shadow was gone, headed north through the dungeon and toward the exit door. Tomlin watched her leave, looking like a sad puppy.

  “Right,” I said. “Back to matters of life and death. First, getting a message to Jahn. Who’s going to sneak through enemy lines?”

  “This leaf will.”

  “I have a better idea for using you, Warrane,” I said. “Sorry, not using you. I’m thinking of you as a dungeon creature now. Anyway, you can be of better service doing something else. Do you think you can free Gary and Wylie from their cells?”

  “The cells are the food larder,” said Warrane. “We have little crime, so no need of real cells. Chef Buirlion keeps the keys. This leaf can get them.”

  “Good. It strikes me that an easy way to stop this would be to have my miners fill in the tunnels that lead here, and then the Wrotun can’t reach me.”

  “How would Core Beno get a message to Core Jahn if the entryway is sealed? How would Gary and Wylie return to him? Besides, our own miners would eventually get through.”