Tree Dungeon

by Andrew Karevik

“What do you wish? A cure? It is not mine to give,” Urioc groaned.

  “I have already found a cure, Urioc. That is not what I wish. This spell you used on me, it was powerful. Give me the spell and I shall let you go.”

  Urioc tilted his head, grunting a little in an attempt to get his hand free. His struggles were in vain. “Such a spell is not like regular magic, it is a godspell. I cannot simply teach you the words, you must possess the energy to use it.”

  “And you have it,” I said. “You possess the energy in your own body. I can sense the divine power radiating in you. Grant it to me and I shall allow you to live the rest of your life.”

  Urioc cackled at that. “You have cruel designs of your own then? Yes, if it will buy my life, I shall grant you this spell. Then we shall part ways and never speak to one another again.”

  “Release the power to me this instant, or I shall give the order to kill you,” I said. The Hurlic squeezed a little more.

  “Fine! Fine!” Urioc said. At once, I felt a transfer of power between the necromancer and me. The godspell, a magic that I had never felt before, surged through my mind. Now I knew the secret to casting the Gift of Gannix.

  “Now you will allow me to live?”

  The Hurlic did as I ordered it. It placed the necromancer on the ground and then took hold of the Shrevar, to prevent it from attacking the man mercilessly.

  “You are most kind,” Urioc snarled. “Now how do I get out of here?”

  As he looked around in the darkness, with the hopes of finding the exit, he did not notice a little goblin crawling up to him. Immix, whose hands were covered in the blood of the necromancer, leapt up and grabbed a hold of the Age of a Thousand. The necromancer tried to resist but was taken by surprise as Immix quickly pulled the amulet free, his hands soaked in the blood of the only person who could remove it. Our gamble had paid off.

  Urioc gasped and began to age rapidly, his face growing weary and old within seconds. He fell to his knees, trying to breathe as his entire body crumbled to dust.

  “You said I could live,” he gasped.

  “I said you could live the rest of your life,” I replied as the necromancer withered away and died. “But you passed that limit a few lifetimes ago, didn’t you?”

  Chapter 17

  Urioc was dead. Since he had died of old age, he would not be able to return back to the world of the living, even if someone were to try and resurrect him. Instead, he would pass on to the afterlife, to be judged for his deeds. Perhaps Gannix would be the one to have a say in where his soul went, no doubt unhappy with the theft of the godspell.

  But there was no cause for celebration yet. I took no pleasure in eradicating Urioc. He had betrayed me and had to be executed for that crime, but I took no joy in it. I would have rather that he had never done such a terrible thing to me in the first place. That I was still simply protecting his Staff. But those days were long gone.

  Ehdrid spent some time communing with the spirits, so he could divine the state of my corruption. The death of Urioc had done nothing to stem the spread of the dark disease. Urioc had not been lying to me. Killing him had only protected me from his future schemes. Fortunately, I had prepared for this.

  By midnight, I was reciting the ritual to call forth Gannix. No doubt, he would be eager to meet with me, now that I had one of his most precious possessions in my control. He arrived almost immediately upon me completing the ritual, as if he had been waiting for me. How curious. Perhaps he was unable to manifest where he chose. After all, he was a Lesser God.

  “I see you have chosen not to build the shrine,” Gannix said, wheezing a little as he appeared from a thin film of green smog.

  “I would like to propose a trade, Gannix,” I said. “You no doubt can tell that I have possession of your godspell. Cure me and I shall return it to you.”

  Gannix laughed a little at that. “Oh, you have no idea what you hold, do you?”

  “A spell,” I replied.

  “Godspells aren’t just spells, my friend. They are what we are made of. The difference between a mortal and a god is a godspell. Urioc didn’t just steal a power from me, oh no. He stole a part of my domain, the ability for me to corrupt divine beings. I had sealed it away for fear of other gods trying to take it away from me.”

  “So, it is of more value than just my life,” I remarked. Interesting. “Why tell me that?”

  “I am a god of order and balance, in a sense. I wish to be fair with anyone dealing with me. No tricks or lies. You can have more if you so request.”

  I thought long and hard about what I wanted. “Could I count you as an ally if I hand this over? You release me from my corruption and become a friend of mine?”

  “Friendship is not worth the power of a god,” Gannix said. “You could simply keep it for yourself and grow in divinity. Or you could trade it to another deity for a different power.”

  “I sense that, in the future, there will be trouble between me and certain beings,” I said, thinking of Agara and her wrathful attitude towards me. “It would help to have an intercessor who is as fair as you.”

  Gannix’s lungs quivered at that, as if stifling laughter. “A god of poxes makes for a poor advocate. But I understand the position. Very well, return to me my spell and I shall be counted as an ally of yours.”

  I could feel the energy within my body shifting. The godspell was restless, it would seem, to return to its creator. Such an immense power, to be able to infect anything with corruption. Yet, having such a power in my possession would bring me trouble from more gods, no doubt. This way was better.

  “Are there oaths that you can take? To swear your allegiance to me?” I asked.

  Gannix shook his head at those words, wheezing a little more. “Beware of gods who take oaths, my friend. Nothing binds a divine being, not even their own word. If gaining power is the first nature of a god, treachery is the second.”

  “But aren’t there honorable and good gods in this land?” I asked. It would behoove me to spend more of my time learning about the various deities of Yehan.

  “There were, for a time, yes. And there are, for a time, yes. But as you have seen, a godspell can be taken. A divine entity can be slain, or at least weakened. Most of the honorable ones are slain. Only the cunning and the ruthless remain.”

  “And are you a cunning and ruthless god as well?” I asked. This seemed to delight Gannix, as he began to laugh, hacking and coughing violently between each laugh.

  “No one wants to steward over my domain,” Gannix said. “Few mortals worship me, for why should they worship a being whose only purpose is to bring them death? And that is the key, Great Tree. Whatever will gain a god more worship, they covet. For worship grants power.”

  Agara had mentioned something to that effect as well. It had been why she was so jealous of me stealing her follower away. This brought up a curious question.

  “Could a mortal become raised as a god, should they be worshiped enough?”

  “I take it you have not met Emerhilk yet,” Gannix said. “The answer to your question is yes, and when a mortal ascends, they usually bring about a new war for conquest in the realm of the gods.”

  “You are most patient with me, to answer my questions,” I told him.

  “Patience? My mind is elsewhere, ensuring that a certain infection is able to kill off a population of deer that, if left unchecked, would devastate the ecosystem, ensuring no creature had enough food to eat. This avatar is just one of many.”

  I understood this concept. While I was unable to divide my consciousness yet, I was able to maintain presence throughout all of my dungeon. I could see everything at once, and if I really concentrated, I could manage two conversations at the same time. Perhaps in time, I would be like Gannix, able to focus on a great many things at once.

  I thanked Gannix again for his time, despite the fact that it was nothing to him. We made the exchange. I granted him the godspell and in
turn, with a wave of his free hand, I was cured. The disease rotting within me was gone.

  How strong I felt! With the corruption having worked so slowly through my body over the course of a decade, I had not realized how much it had been affecting me. The surge of energy was almost overwhelming. My roots began to immediately stretch out, easily breaking through whatever barrier had been blocking them before. I could grow too, much larger than before. I extended higher into the sky, looming high above the entire Feverwood forest.

  Finally, I was at fully capacity! No longer would I have to divide my magic between growing the dungeon and expanding my body. The corruption had been like trying to drink water from a stream with your hands. Now, it was as if I had a great jug of magic to drink. My roots were finally able to reach their destination, that source of magic that I had been trying so desperately to attain all of this time. I was still unsure of what the destination was, as all I could see down there was just dirt and rock. But there was so much magic to consume deep underground, I would most likely be keeping my roots down there for years to come. I would use this magic to continue growing my body. Soon, I would be able to reach the heavens. Perhaps then, the gods would see me as a being worthy of respect.

  Chapter 18

  The death of Urioc left me in possession of a great and ancient artifact. The Age of a Thousand was unlike any other magical item I had ever seen. It hummed with a deep magic, a power that was arcane in nature, but almost as powerful as divine magic itself. According to Immix, if he could be believed, such artifacts were created by wizards of old, who once rivaled the gods with their power. It wasn’t until the gods began to grant spells to their worshippers, that these wizards were unseated by clerics and paladins, seeking to cut down these arcane masters. To the Ancient Mages, this artifact would be a mere trinket, a parlor trick. But now that the secrets of deep magic were lost, this was a one of kind item, that many would be willing to kill over.

  There was the question of what to do with such an item. Immix wished to give it to an old woman living by the lake. Ehdrid wanted it to be destroyed. And Jineve wished to keep it for herself, so that she may have a greater lifespan. I allowed these three to make their cases before me, as I myself pondered what value it could bring to the dungeon.

  Immix’s case was easy to dismiss, but Ehdrid made a compelling argument. He spoke of the fact that the artifact was evil and cruel in nature, drawing in the restless souls of the dead to power it. There were still souls trapped within, souls whom he wished to free so that they could move on to their afterlife. A noble request. Yet, could we actually destroy it if he wished? I inquired upon how we would do so, and he was at a loss for words. There was a powerful aura radiating from the Age of a Thousand of great defensive magic, meant to prevent any form of harm to it. The chain around the diamond studded amulet had been easy to break simply because of the blood binding that kept it sealed to the wearer. The actual artifact itself would resist any form of destruction, that much I could sense from it.

  Jineve’s case for using the amulet was disconcerting. She argued that the souls were already trapped and that this was the only way for them to escape, according to the research. The souls would be used to immediately expand the lifespan of whoever were to put on the amulet, but in the process, the spirit of the soul itself would be freed to move on. She had many books on the subject, courtesy of Urioc’s library.

  She swore she would merely wear it until the souls were completely drained. Then, after that, she would live out whatever lifespan she had left, without consuming more. But I knew better than to believe her. Jineve was a good woman, but she was naive, brash and impulsive. The Age of a Thousand clearly had an effect on the sanity of the wearer. Her lack of discipline and self-control would not do well with such an artifact. I told her as such. This greatly angered her. She demanded the item as payment for her services, but alas I could simply not grant it to her. Reading books with a group of apprentices for weeks on end did not make one worthy of such a prize.

  But was anyone worthy? I wondered this for days as I examined the amulet, learning all I could of its magical power. The knowledge spells I had allowed me to extract some bits and pieces of information, but not enough to form a complete picture of how corrupting it was. If it was dangerous to mortals, should it be destroyed? Was that something for me to decide? Perhaps I should give it to Immix, that might spare me the headache of determining what should be done with such a powerful and dangerous object.

  Over the days, Jineve grew heated with me. Her arguments were fierce and her accusations even more cruel. I appreciated her brashness, it had served me well when defending Urioc’s library from interlopers, but the cycle was becoming tiresome. She would come to me with an argument, make her case for why she deserved it, and when I refuted her, she would take out her anger with cruel words. It was becoming irritating.

  Ehdrid’s opinion on the matter was that I had gravely insulted her. I had not denied her on the basis of the morality of using such an item, nor had I told that I had other plans for the artifact. Rather, I had made the case that she was unworthy. Such an accusation against a wizard who had been so loyal to my cause, he explained, was akin to insulting her very existence. She would not be quick to forgive me. In fact, forgiveness might never be on the table. I had, inadvertently, turned her against me by demonstrating that I thought she was undeserving.

  But was she truly worthy? I argued this with Ehdrid. The Age of a Thousand could not just be handed to anyone, could it? He agreed with me in this regard. Then again, it was his desire to see the artifact destroyed once and for all. Even if it were to be demolished, we certainly wouldn’t be able to do it here. Someone would need to find the answer to destroying it and then take it to a place where the raw energy could be released back into the world. From my study of the artifact, deep magic was unlike the rest of the magic in this world. It was abrasive, cutting and inherently destructive. Absorbing it would be like swallowing razors.

  If someone were to take this artifact away, we realized that there would be the risk of them deciding to simply keep it for themselves, even if they did mean to destroy it for good. Thus, we could not entrust this amulet to anyone without them proving their worth. But how could I evaluate someone’s worth? I thought back to the types of adventurers who had come into my dungeon. Only the bravest, the strongest and the smartest were able to survive the rigors and trials that I had for them. Many of them displayed great character beyond simple strength.

  Perhaps a test would be in order. With Jineve clamoring for control of the artifact, and the fact that we could not simply destroy it without entrusting it to the right hands, the only option was to create a trial. I would build a new floor of the dungeon, one meant not simply to test the strength and cunning of a warrior, but also to test their heart and courage. I would construct challenges that could only be solved by demonstrating the attributes of one worthy enough to take hold of the artifact. Then I would have Immix go about the rest of Yehan, spreading word about the Age of a Thousand.

  There would certainly be many a vicious and evil man, looking to gain immortality. The test would be designed in a way that they would fail. The righteous who arrived in the hopes of cleansing the artifacts would have the same test. And if their hearts were not pure, they would fail as well. Ehdrid was pleased with my idea. This would be the best way to find one who would treat the amulet with responsibility. What they did with the Age of a Thousand would be their decision, after they were able to get their hands on it. Even if they did choose to take possession of immortality, perhaps they would have the self-control to use it wisely.

  This was also a solution to Jineve’s frustration with me. Once the dungeon level was completed, she would be perfectly free to pursue the artifact as well. This would be the only way for her to prove that she possessed the right qualities to own it.

  I told her of my plans. She slunk away after hearing of the danger involved with obtaining the amulet. She spo
ke no more about it after that and instead dedicated her time to continuing to teach her apprentices. It would seem that she was, indeed, unworthy of its power. At least she would not have to die in the Mage Killer to prove that fact. I was relieved to know this.

  Chapter 19

  As soon as the plan was finalized, I began construction of the new floor. The new energy that I had obtained was coursing through my body, waiting to be used. This second level would be sinister and deadly beyond anything I had designed before. The Magekiller Room had been one of my best creations, and I was eager to build more rooms like that.

  I began to develop a more complex approach to placing the amulet. Rather than simply put the prize at the end of some room behind several other locked rooms, I would clearly designate the area that contained the Age of a Thousand. It would be locked behind a giant, ornate gold-painted door with beautiful carvings, depicting the saga of what Urioc had done to me. There would be five slots in the door, each designed to hold a gem of a different color. These five gems would be in five different rooms, with puzzles and challenges to overcome.

  There was no reason to obfuscate the existence of the Age of a Thousand within the second level. After all, I wanted a great warrior to take possession of it. Carved on the door were instructions as well, telling of five rooms with different tests. Only when all five gems were placed in the door would it open. I had a powerful seal of magic that was unbreakable by any traditional means, ensuring that the adventurers would be forced to play by the rules I gave them. Attempts to bypass the door through teleportation would simply reroute them to the Magekiller Room.

  I had decided to add a gem and an exit to the Magekiller. Now that Urioc was dead, there was no reason to use it only for the purpose of killing. It would be another test, albeit one that would spring upon adventurers without them knowing it.

  This left me with four rooms to build. I needed to incorporate a few different themes into each room, to ensure that only the worthiest of the worthy were able to get a hold of this treasure. I also needed to ensure it was deadly enough of a room that it would claim most of the lives of anyone who dared to enter.