The Dungeon Traveler

by Alston Sleet

  I’ve contained myself from trapping every inch of the place, but I have expanded my refuge tunnels. Slowly but surely, the labyrinth which reaches towards my gem was being enhanced with every type of trap I could imagine. I’ve also noticed that my expansion, the area my dungeon controls, had slowed its growth recently. Before I could just keep expanding and expanding without any seeming effort, but lately it has felt like a long lazy stretch after a good nap. It felt oddly pleasant while also sort of aching at the same time. My floor spreads out over a vast area, and I can always just stretch space a bit if I need room, but it’s interesting that I’m approaching some kind of limit.

  Using [Far Seeing] I followed the old mage back to an upscale part of the capital, the house he finally stopped at was roofed in cedar shingles and built with rocks cemented in an overlapping pattern. The home was easily more expensive and far better constructed than its neighbors. The magical stone mounted above the door which glowed at dusk established the immense wealth of this mage. It wasn’t just the ability to make a glowstone, this one was nice but nothing extravagant, a normal mage would probably be able to make one like it with only a couple days of effort. It was the fact that his stone was mounted on the outside of the door with just standard mortar. No particular magical detection spell, no tracking spell, no security forces guarding it. This was the equivalent of a few gold coins just sitting on his lintel with no one touching it even though it was literally glowing at night. I couldn’t help but think that the local sneak thieves knew not to mess with the old guy for some reason.

  All this was to say I was intensely curious about the old magician, but my spying was constantly thwarted. The basement was in a no scrying zone, and when he entered his house in the evening he would cast a spell, and it would create a glowing ball that would slowly drift in the direction of my viewpoint. I had thought it was a coincidence at first, maybe him just wanting to use a glowing light hovering over his head. My [Far Seeing] location was directly overhead at the time, so it seemed reasonable. I moved my view location in front of him and noticed the glowing orb circle thing start to shift in my direction! Whatever it was, I had no interest in it touching me, even if it was just my [Far Seeing] viewpoint, I couldn’t help but think it bode ill for whatever spying it found. That left me unable to spy in on the old geezer except when he was muttering in my dungeon or wandering around.

  This wasn’t to say I didn’t spy on him intently while he was wandering around. He mostly walked from my dungeon to his home and back again, but I still watched him. When someone can hurt you, even when that someone seems uninterested in bothering you, information gathering seems smart. I wasn’t the smartest cookie on the oven sheet, but I wasn’t planning to be burnt either. My stalker-like attention only garnered a little bit of information, namely, don’t mess with the old dude.

  A thug tried to hit him with a cudgel on his way home, jumping out of an alley in an attempt at surprise. The old guy must have cast a spell, but he didn’t mutter, move his hands, or even blink. One second a large man with a makeshift club is jumping at him, and the next a man-sized lump of meat is bleeding while screaming from the inside. It was, bar none, the most disturbing thing I had ever witnessed, which said something considering as a child I had once walked in on my grandparents. The old codger just walked around the lump of slowly suffocating flesh and continued on his way.

  I wasn’t tempted to dig deeper into the old man’s no-spy area after that. The no-spy zones in the city were each subtly different though, enough so that I could have probably identified the different casters by the signatures of their various effects. The one in the castle was like a black wall that I couldn’t touch. The old wizard’s zone would cause me to pop out facing the opposite direction of the way I entered; very disconcerting. I had a taste of the way my weird dimensionalism felt to others with that one. The Guild had the oddest one of all. I would start to head to the door or a wall and find myself intensely interested in something that would take priority over investigating some small house that was just where The Guild would drop off letters. A few minutes later I would realize that I should probably go look in on The Guild office…and off I went, curious about nothing again.

  It only became apparent to me when I found myself trying to follow an alley cat for a couple blocks. The cognitive dissonance of wondering why an alley cat was so suspicious for being in an alley was what finally clued me in. Before that the effect had been more subtle, why is that merchant over there, who is this young man running along with that strange hat, etc. Not typical but possible, though once I looked back, I realized the people I had thought ‘odd’ hadn’t been. The Guild went on my list of “don’t screw with.”

  When I found myself wondering what the nightlife was like in the capital, instead of doing something productive with my time, I admitted to myself I was just putting off talking to Coldona. Our last discussion combined with Denda’s warning had freaked me out. But politics and a visit from a representative of a god, apparently as a favor to Coldona, left asking her about things as a sensible position. Denda had been helpful, even if creepy and a bit pushy, but Coldona was supposed to be ‘my’ goddess. I couldn’t just keep taking Denda’s word for things. I wouldn’t assume Coldona was right either, but a second opinion on things was helpful.

  Letting my attention shift from the different tasks my dungeon was performing, trusting that they would continue to occur as they had been, I used [Focused Prayer]. Instead of starting with a stumbling ‘hello’ as I had before, I decided just to let the skill reach out for her and see if she would respond. It was probably more like a ringing phone rather than just surprising her with a conversation out of nowhere. I didn’t know about a goddess, but I thought it would feel more polite to me at least.

  A healthy, calm, and happy voice answered my prayer, “Hi Dale, I’m glad you decided to reach out to me. Denda said that you would probably reach out today or tomorrow; otherwise, I should talk to you myself.”

  Man, that little goddess was creepy, stalking me even when not around. Still, helpful, but almost shudder-inducing. While I’m complaining to myself, why does she like to poke me so much?

  My distracted internal monologue, a bad habit only reinforced by my new crystalline lifestyle, was broken when Coldona continued.

  “I wanted to apologize for the last time we talked, you have done a ton for me, and that’s had some side effects on me. It was a sign of something good happening, but it still must have been a bit intense for you. I would like to make it up to you.”

  So far I had remained silent in this discussion. I wanted to get a read on how she was feeling first but now seemed like a good time to ask my questions.

  “I understand, I remember what feeling sick was like when I was human, so I know what it was like to not be up for company. I caught you at a bad time, so it’s all good. If you want to make it up to me, I do have a few questions about the gods. I had a weird run-in with a god’s spokesman here just recently so…”

  There was a slight pause, an awkward one that concerned me a bit as to how ‘better’ Coldona really was before she spoke up, “oh…yeah. Hamndel told me he sent one of his stronger followers to break up some kind of problem? Something that Denda setup to make sure a plan came together for me in some way? Something about keeping someone else from interfering? I don’t know what it was all about, but it should make sense later. Denda’s plans usually do.”

  I couldn’t let that go, everyone seemed to trust the scary little squirt far too much for my tastes. I had been following along so far mostly because she was apparently capable of doing nasty things to me, but this didn’t mean I shouldn’t be looking for treachery.

  “Why does everyone just trust her so much? She could be planning anything, and yet everyone just blindly goes along with her plans. Even the dwarves chilled out the moment they noticed her plaque. Why?”

  Coldona sounded angry, her happy go lucky voice a bit strained, “Denda…well…ok, I guess you should underst
and things. I’ve always been an outcast, my domains just screamed death and danger to so many sapients that it was almost inevitable that I would become an evil god. But I’m not the only one with dark or distasteful domains. Some of us are outcast because of our domains, me, Hamndel, Welden, Telden, and Beld, all of us are seen in a less than wonderful light by humanity. Denda though was the Goddess of Fate, she was seen as necessary but neutral in all ways. She chose to pick up new domains to help us. She became the goddess of [Thieves] first because it helped her gain the domain of Cunning. With Fate and Cunning, she could help us become more than we were. But she was rejected by the other gods for electing to become the patron of [Thieves]. We trust her because she has given up almost everything to tie her plans to ours.”

  When Coldona was finished, I sat for a bit considering what she had said. It was hard to admit, but it sounded like the little dress wearing monster was a pretty good friend. I certainly never had a friend like that.

  “Ok, so what is the plan?”

  “No clue. Denda said something about things not working if people knew. It sometimes works that way, even for normal gods, but it often causes Denda issues. We’ve mostly learned to roll with it. The overarching goal is to form a new pantheon, with all of us together we’ll have a great deal more power and be able to decide things a lot easier.”

  I wasn’t sure how a pantheon worked, but ‘more power’ was usually a good plan. If you had it and didn’t need it, no problem. If you lacked it and needed it, that was a problem.

  “So how is a pantheon formed?” I asked.

  …and there was the long awkward pause I didn’t like to hear.

  “Well, it requires something which is in opposition to another group of gods and requires all of us working together and finally some other…thing. Something important to the gods involved.”

  How concrete and useful that information was.

  “So, you don’t know, but you think Denda does, but she can’t tell you or anyone else since it would stop it from working? Is that the long and short of it? Trust Denda, she means well, and things will work out?”

  I tried to be more neutral in my question but my tone shifted by the end. I didn’t like putting my fate in another person's hands, even if those hands were a literal goddess of fate. Coldona could probably sense my displeasure, but she was amazingly relaxed about my questioning of her actions. Not what I would expect of a goddess. Her answers basically broke down to ‘yes’ and ‘trust her, I do.’ I eventually let that subject go.

  Continuing my questions, I asked her about the whipped and branded guy. Her answer about the scary black-flame guy was enlightening.

  “Hamndel is the God of Orphans, Whores, and [Slaves], most of his power is spent helping [Slaves] cope with the pain of their experiences. He is a powerful god, but much of his power is focused narrowly on his followers, doing what he can to help them. The man you describe was Melna, his most well-known follower, the flames were mostly a bluff.”

  As bluffs go, nasty black flames which try and reach out for any life it finds… that’s pretty effective.

  “Those flames cause whoever it touches to experience all the pain they have caused Hamndel’s followers. If you have never harmed one of his followers, the flames do not burn. As a member of The Guild he rarely does much nowadays, The Guild is neutral in most disputes, but for a time Melna cleansed entire kingdoms of [Slavers]. Hamndel had to reign him in, or the other gods would have joined together to kill him, The Guild was the best compromise, but I understand he is held on an unhappy leash, for both god and servant.”

  “Thanks, that was good to know. I still don’t understand why Denda wanted him here, it looked to me like the groups were just going to kill each other which doesn’t hurt me in any way, but I’ll try and trust that she has a plan.”

  I could almost hear Coldona’s smile in her voice at my acceptance, “Dale, before I go, I wanted to do something for you, you have helped me, and my family, in so many ways. Each of my brothers and sisters is gaining in power. They have all been worried about me. I was always the one most rejected by the other gods, and I’m a bellwether for the rest as to where our powers and rejection was changing us. They could see me change, year after year, and know that they were changing as well, slowly, but we were all heading the same way. You’ve turned my changes around.”

  One of my worst faults was not taking compliments well, mostly because my failures led me to have few enough chances to practice. Such glowing heartfelt praise from someone who showed their emotions so strongly, it left me feeling shy and confused, wondering if I really deserved such praise when I had spent most of my time just thinking about myself and being so paranoid about my ‘own’ goddess.

  Before I could say anything more, I felt a familiar sensation flow over me: a new Blessing.

  True Name: Dale Erickson Ender.

  Race: Dungeon Core (Variant: Sapient)

  Class: [Spatial Hedge-Mage][Spatial Traveler][High Priest].

  Level: 38

  Mind: 5

  Body: 1

  Soul: 8

  Blessings:

  [Blessing of Secrets] (hidden)

  [Blessing of Cunning] (hidden)

  [Blessing of Wealth]

  [Blessing of Fame]

  [Blessing of Magic]

  [Blessing of Travel]

  [Blessing of Challenge]

  Traits:

  [Focus of the Divine]

  [Soul Seal - Divine]

  Skills:

  [Far Seeing]: Level 177

  [Directed Prayer]: Level 6

  [Mana Sensing]: Level 91

  [Spatial Manipulation]: Level 126

  [Will of the World]: Level 73

  [Conjuration]: Level 71

  [Etheric Pattern Formation]: Level 160

  “A Blessing of Challenge?” I asked, a bit bewildered.

  Coldona’s voice shifted back into the valley-girl-like bubbly happiness I knew from before, “I know right? It’s my new domain! I’ve never been able to give out a Blessing before! Not sure what it does. I know it only works on things like duels or fights with rules, and structures, I’m not sure about the limits, but I’m glad I could bless you with it, Dale. You helped me get it, and it seemed odd that my [High Priest] had so many Blessings, but none from his Goddess.”

  I thanked Coldona for her Blessing, and our conversation broke up shortly after. I think she could sense how uncomfortable I was with praise and being seen in a good light. I felt guilty about how I had been so paranoid and stand-offish, and even worse when I considered that I didn’t really want to stop being paranoid. The gods and goddesses suffered a raw deal. The way they were treated wasn’t fair, and I know that I had basically thrown in my lot with them, but how could I trust that they wouldn’t take advantage of me the moment they were the ones with power? This could be just how they saw themselves, and the other gods could have a good reason for rejecting them.

  I spent that night trying to mull over my feelings.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  The Sounds of Madness

  For Josedus, the return trip to the capital was a silent, tense, and uncomfortable ordeal. Since his youth, the king had always funneled his anger into a controlled silence. Josedus had always wondered if this was reinforced through experience, expressed anger being an excuse for the [Tyrant King’s] violence. The other possibility was a natural inclination, and his survival of the [Tyrant King’s] rages was purely based on not being selected because of a quirk of his personality. Either way, the king was true to form. The return trip had only necessary discussions required for what little work could be accomplished for the kingdom on their journey.

  The king finally reached the end of his restraint within a day of the trip, requisitioning a horse and a squad of soldiers before leaving towards the capital. Josedus had actually expected this and so had been prepared for the journey, but he had overestimated the time before the king would reach his limit.

  The last week had
been a trying time for the king, and Josedus was seeing more and more signs of instability. His missive to the Church of Vetta, which had been operating out of the kingdom as an orphanage, was only one example, but the most severe. The [Spy Master] would likely spit blood once he heard about that action if he hadn’t already. When you know where an enemy has a spy, you don’t let them know this. The political response is to use this spy to sow disinformation or subvert the spy for your own gain. You don’t demonstrate directly to your enemy your knowledge of his spies. It would be far too easy to deduce the kingdoms techniques and spycraft from that knowledge. Instead, the king ignored the need to wait for a letter to reach the central Church of Vetta or even one of its outlying temples, and instead contacted the closest representative.

  That kind of rash reaction was far more like the [Tyrant King] than the [Rebel].

  To be told by a goddess, directly, and from a physical manifestation no less, to leave the dungeon alone. Yet he still chose to ignore this command? This was a sign of madness for a noble. Yes, the goddess in question was less in favor than others, but she was still divine and of a different order of power entirely. This would have been bad enough, but to do this in front of two different nobles? One was a lick spit which had been foisted off on a lesser city for economic reasons, while the other was too rigid and embedded in the military power of the kingdom. The stories from those two alone must have soared on wings to the capital before the king had even left the city.