Chapter 24
The Therus Alliance was brave, heroically raising their weapons and charging straight into the trap I had created. With the queen ordering the gates to be opened, the army mistook this to be a sign of needing help and thus did not question the integrity of the streets. The teleportation stones began to activate quickly, rapidly capturing and dispersing the warriors throughout my dungeon. Within ten seconds of the gates opening, nine hundred and fifty men were trapped. The rest, who were the cooks, medics, and engineers had stayed behind to manage the camps, unaware that their army was now several miles away.
There were really three types of individuals within this army. The first were the hardened warriors who weren’t fazed at the realization they now stood in a dungeon. They focused and began to navigate, prioritizing their own safety so they could reach others. The second type of warrior were clearly fighters, but weren’t accustomed to dungeon crawling at all. At first, these men thought that they were stuck within some kind of illusion and sought to wake themselves up. Once they realized they were indeed inside the dungeon, they began to panic.
This panic would subside after a few minutes and they would then go about their plan to escape, which would often end with them being claimed by the traps awaiting them. They would resurrect, of course, but after the first encounter with a trap or monster, they lost a great deal of their energy.
The third type were either greenhorns or those who gained their positions due to being a part of the nobility. They could not handle the idea of being in a dungeon and became completely dysfunctional. One poor soul, a noble it would seem, simply began to pace back and forth, wringing his hands for hours upon hours. The others would merely sink down to the ground, waiting for rescue.
Sooner or later, the warriors would meet with one another and form a band. This improved not only their morale, but their ability to navigate the dungeon. Confidence grew with each overcome obstacle and, soon, many of these men were able to find their ways to the teleportation shrines. As I had suspected, only the most loyal of soldiers opted to stay behind, while ninety percent of the rest would leave the moment they had the chance.
Within the first two days, I knew that the army had been disbanded and that I had won. There were no major leaders present, no kings or rulers to ensure the army had a reason to stay. They would undoubtedly return home and report what they had seen to their superiors. The only question was, would the Therus Alliance send more warriors? If so, I would repeat this trick, over and over again. Not only was it effective, but it was also granting me a tremendous amount of magic.
I wondered, as I watched some of the nobles, if this was a violation of my normal rules to only bring adventurers into the dungeon. After all, war was not the same as adventuring. A warrior would be part of a large army, trained to fight as a group and against an enemy that could be understood. A dungeon was an entirely alien type of foe to these people.
Yet, then again, I needed the magic. These men were prepared to face war and death anyway, so what was the harm in pitting them against a different kind of end? They could resurrect all the same and I would be able to increase my magical stores. If I wasn’t facing such cataclysmic threats, perhaps I would have found a different solution. But for now, all I could think about was gaining more power, and this was a quick route to it.
“You really care that much about food?” came a familiar and cruel voice. It was the Dungeon Below, somehow managing to break through my telepathy spell. “They are just morsels, no reason to worry about rules. No reason to care about them.”
“You don’t understand and I fear you never will,” I replied, focusing my energies on creating another shield to prevent this creature from reading my mind.
“I do understand. You are weak. You hold onto some strange sense of morality, and in doing so, you deny yourself so much power,” the Dungeon said. “If you ate the souls of those mortals you trapped, how bigger would you be? How greater? You are a being of such power and magic, you could devour the entire world if you saw fit.”
“And to what end?” I asked. “There is no purpose in causing harm to others. To gaining power for no reason.”
“So you say,” the Dungeon replied, snarling a little. “But I know of your worries. Your fears. You wish to grow powerful, to fight off some threat, yes?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“So why not simply eat all of them? Grow big and powerful, and in the end you get to defeat this threat.”
“And in the process, I become a monster. I think not,” I replied.
“Then you do not consider the city nearby to be full of food?” it asked.
“Of course not.”
There was silence for a time. Finally, the hostile mind spoke. “Perhaps you are right. I do not understand. Perhaps I never will.”
And with that, I felt the mind depart from me. Somehow it had managed to connect to me, bypassing my telepathic shield spell. Was this a new development? Or was it able to read my mind all of this time? Had I merely assumed the spell was working? This was a troubling situation and I didn’t quite know what to do.
I stretched out and sought to connect to Vincenzo, wondering if he was still alive. If the Dungeon Below had been able to read my mind, it might have learned about his artifact that would keep his soul safe.
“Are you there?” I asked.
“And so now you respond! After days of me calling out!” Vincenzo replied. I could sense distress in his emotions, but more so at the idea of being ignored than any kind of danger.
“What is going on?”
“I have been exploring the beast for quite some time, and the interior of this dungeon keeps changing. But only when I get to a specific area…as if it is trying to hide something from me. I feel that perhaps there is a weakness in its anatomy, some kind of spot that it can move at will. If I were to observe it, perhaps I could destroy it with the tools that I have.”
“And why were you calling me?” I asked, wondering how I could not hear his messages. It must have been interference from the Dungeon Below.
“I need a way to stop it from moving, just long enough to find this weak spot. You must have a spell of some kind, a way to keep it from shifting about. Or else I fear I will never find it.”
“I will do what I can. How is your health?”
“How is my health? How dare you ask such a question to Vincenzo! No trap can overtake me!” he bellowed to me. Despite his bluster, I could sense a growing feeling of anxiety. “But I fear this creature is learning my ways quickly. Sooner would be better than later. Hurry.”
Chapter 25
The major crisis was averted; Oregmyer was safe from the threat of an impending invasion. Yet I still had many other problems to worry about, namely how I was possibly going to be able to stop the Dungeon Below from expanding and contracting.
My first stop was Fernus, to ask if he knew of any such spell that would do as I needed. After some lecturing on the nature of time dilation, it became clear that the only type of magic that would work was either divine magic or deep magic. And since we didn’t have any access to deep magic due to the fact that it was long forgotten, I would have to find a significant source of divine magic in order to achieve the results I wanted.
After my last major encounter with the gods, having captured and forced one of them into a dungeon, I found that the other deities saw fit to leave me alone. Did they fear my power? Or were they simply respectful of the law that had been passed that no one may interfere with me? Either way, I did not have many allies within the divine world. Gannix, god of plagues and pestilence, would be of no help, nor would Turm, the god of valor and combat.
As I thought about the different gods and goddesses, looking for the right one to ask for aid, I felt the familiar call of Izguril from the vault beneath my roots. He wanted an audience with me. No doubt, to offer me some kind of deal in exchange for the ability to have a single guest. I wasn’t so desperate as to make
this decision. Yet still, I would humor the false god, perhaps in the hopes of gleaning some information from him for free.
“Yes?” I said as I shifted my consciousness down to his prison. He was floating in silence, staring at the floor intently. Once aware of my presence, Izguril tilted his head upwards.
“Ah, it’s good to hear from you. I was worried you might ignore me because of our last encounter,” he said, calm and collected. Despite the extended period of being alone and in utter silence, he showed no hint of his prison term affecting his mind, or his civility.
“You have something to tell me?” I asked.
“No small talk? Very well, I know of a spell that could affect the Dungeon Below. You need to keep it from shifting, yes? There is an artifact that I once held in my possession, a powerful one, sealed away from the rest of the world. Within the artifact is a godspell created by Uy, the god of time. It should grant you the power you seek.”
“And in exchange for this artifact, what do you wish?”
Izguril laughed. “You know what I want. My high priest must be granted an audience with me. I am still a god, and I still have followers. They must be instructed of my commandments.”
“You came to me before, to offer this when the Dungeon Below was first beginning to bother me. Why would my mind have changed since then? If anything, my efforts have been rather successful against it, and soon the dungeon will be destroyed.”
Izguril stopped laughing for a moment. “You don’t know?”
“What?”
“Interesting. I assumed that you would be able to sense it. Perhaps the Dungeon has been shielding itself with some kind of magic”
“Tell me what you speak of.”
Izguril grinned. “The Dungeon Below, as you call it, has created a rather large opening beneath the city of Oregmyer. As we speak, it is tunneling towards the surface.”
“How can you possibly know this?”
“I am still a god. And while the Dungeon can hide its thoughts with a paltry spell, my divine power allows me to hear it clear as day. It grows so much closer to you, I can sense its movements and actions. Its hungers and desires.”
“You are trying to manipulate me.”
“Cast a spell of clairvoyance then, see what I see,” Izguril said. “I would not waste either of our time with such trickery.”
“I doubt that greatly,” I replied. But still, he was right; a simple spell of vision would allow me to learn the truth. And so I focused my mind, cast the spell and saw that deep beneath Oregmyer there was a moving entity—a large, writhing maw pushing its way upwards. This must have been why the Dungeon Below had spoken to me earlier. It wanted to know if it would be competing with me over eating the city.
“So you see the truth?” Izguril asked. “It should take more than a few days for it to reach the surface, considering how much magic the beast is burning to tunnel so far. You have time to retrieve the artifact and put an end to this creature once and for all.”
“How convenient for you to mention this danger when it would suit you best,” I said.
“Can you blame me for being an opportunist? There’s not much else to do down here other than scheme,” Izguril said.
“How difficult will it be to retrieve this artifact?” I asked.
“You simply need to know the name of the demiplane that I hid it in, then you can retrieve it at will. I would be happy to give you that name, after the audience, of course.”
This was a frustrating proposition. No doubt, Izguril would seek to find a way to free himself with the assistance of his priest, but he was offering me a solution to put an end to the Dungeon Below. Fernus’ grand spell was just about finished. Vincenzo believed that there might be a regular weakness that could result in the destruction of the creature with normal tools.
If the entire population of Oregmyer was devoured at once, this Dungeon would become a real threat. It would be able to expand more and perhaps would find its way to other cities. I could not allow it to continue growing like this. It would turn its attentions to me once it had enough power, and I would find myself locked in a life and death struggle.
This was not an easy choice to make. But time was short and I thought of the worst case scenario. If Izguril would be able to escape, he would remain quite weak. It would take him a few hundred years to regain enough power to be a threat to me, and I’m certain that Turm could be convinced to stand guard over me in exchange for some kind of favor.
But if the Dungeon were to continue to grow in power, I would not be able to get the magic necessary to fend off this Invasion. I would stay continually distracted, time and time again. This was an opportunity to end things right now, or at least within the next few days. If I didn’t finish this quickly, it wouldn’t matter if Izguril escaped, as there would be no reality for him to inhabit anyway.
“Fine, I will accept your terms,” I replied. “Grant me the artifact, and afterwards I shall allow you to have your audience.”
Izguril opened his mouth, to contest the deal, but realized it would be in vain. “You do not trust me, of course. I understand. Give me your word that I will be able to speak with my high priest.”
“You have my word,” I replied.
“Very well, the name of the demiplane is Izguril, original I know. Speak the phrase ‘Whispers unknown’ into the portal and it will produce the artifact for you. Extract the godspell from within the rod and you will be able to overtake the dungeon. But be cautious, for this spell was forged long ago and has been exhausted many times. You will probably be able to use it only once or twice before the magic fades away.”
“I thought godspells grew stronger with use,” I said.
“Not one this powerful,” Izguril replied. “If it could be used infinitely, I would be king of all gods.”
Chapter 26
I gazed at the spell that had been written by Fernus. It was complicated, required a great deal of magic and would cause a significant amount of damage to a single area. He called it: Fernus’ Dungeon Breaker.
“What do you think?” the mad wizard asked, chuckling to himself as he tore a few pages out of a journal. “Exquisite, isn’t it?”
“It is a powerful spell design, but I fear the effects of the collateral damage.”
“As you should!” he exclaimed, slamming a hand on the table. “This spell could potentially cause an earthquake if you get the incantations wrong. You must cast it perfectly, manipulate the energy just right. Too little power and it’ll go wild; too much energy and it will destroy far more than just the dungeon. I’d wager to say we’d be able to destroy most of the Hollowlands beneath us as well.”
“Is there any way to make it less…excessive?” I asked.
Fernus laughed at those words. “Now why in the hell would I want to do that? This is a testament to my true skill, an ability that you doubted that I actually had. This will do the task as agreed. The side effects or ramifications of using such a spell are beyond my concern.”
He was correct on this matter. The mad wizard’s only care was to prove that he was indeed capable of creating such a weapon. I bothered him no more about the details and merely thanked him. Casting that spell would require a sizable amount of magic, but thanks to the intervention of the Therus Alliance, I had plenty to burn. This would put an end to the Dungeon Below swiftly, provided I was able to locate his weak spot.
Because that was the one problem with Fernus’ spell. While it was powerful in its own regard, and could certainly cause significant damage to the Dungeon Below, it would not be able to affect all of the creature. It had grown too large now, extending for nearly forty miles in all directions. At the most, Fernus’ Dungeon Breaker would be able to reach a twenty mile radius. This was still quite impressive, but unless we cast the spell at the center of the Dungeon, it was possible the creature would still survive. Theoretically, I could use the spell twice, but in doing so I’d be spending almost a year’s worth of
magic. Not to mention the seismic activity the spell would cause, and which might end up destabilizing the very ground I stood on.
Vincenzo would have to locate the center of the dungeon for me. Thanks to his mapping skills, he was able to get an understanding of its structure. The dungeon had essentially six hallways that were more like arms. These hallways would stretch for miles upon miles, bending upwards or down, looking for a spot where they could break into the Toplands or the Hollowlands. There were connectors and side rooms, but the overall complexity of the Dungeon Below was low.
No matter how hard Vincenzo had tried, he was unable to reach the center of the dungeon, thanks to the sentient nature of the creature. It would actively lengthen itself to prevent him from getting to the core. There were many traps and attacks he would face, but nothing was more effective than the elongation. If the cartographer was able to reach the center of the dungeon, I could use my magic to remote view, and in the process would be able to cast the spell as if I were present. I would also be able to pull Vincenzo to safety.
This was all contingent, of course, on the godspell I had recently acquired doing exactly what Izguril had promised. It was possible that this entire thing was just a ruse, a complicated way to cause me grief. After all, I was his captor, so what would bring him more pleasure than to see me suffer needlessly? Then again, if Izguril was being earnest in the information he gave me, then I would have to keep an eye out for escape attempts in the future.
The godspell—known as the Timeholder—was powerful to say the least. Absorbing it into my body allowed for me to gain a keen understanding of how the spell functioned. By releasing its full energies, I could literally manipulate the threads of time in a given area. This would allow me to either speed things up or slow them down. The rest of the world would continue to move along at a normal pace, but the bubble of time I would create functioned according to the rules that I set. It was a very powerful spell indeed.
The only drawback was that it required a great deal of uninterrupted focus. Using such a spell would take all of my concentration, and my attention would only be on a single point. To lose concentration for a single second would disperse the spell. Besides, the Timeholder was weak. The threads that bound this magic was created by a now dead god, and with her gone, nothing would power it back up. Once used, the spell would be gone for good. I only had one shot at this.
Tree Guardian Page 14
