Still nothing.
“Wylie, I think it’s time to promote you. What rank is above lieutenant, anyway?”
Now I heard scampering, and Tomlin stumbled into the loot room, losing his balance and falling flat on his face. Wylie, his ever-cheerful friend, wasn’t far behind.
“Tomlin,” I said. “I need you to clean this loot chest. Make it look sparkling, if you can. It has to look enticing to a greedy hero.”
“Got it, Dark Lord,” said Tomlin. Then he turned to Wylie. “Wylie, Tomlin needs you to clean chest. Make it sparkle. Make it look enticing.”
Kobolds, I sighed. Always shirking work.
At any rate, whichever of them did it, they made a good job of it. The chest in the middle of the loot room was sealed with three locks, and it was as clean and sparkling as a pair of kobolds could make it. It looked fit for the finest loot. Gems, maybe. A precious emerald. A nice little reward for the heroes.
I put a bear trap inside it.
First, I had Tomlin pack two feet of mud onto the base so that the trap was closer to the top of the chest, and then he and Wylie worked together to set it. Neither kobold had the strength to open it by themselves.
Now the trap was set. It was close enough to the chest lid so that as soon as a hero stuck their hand in it, they’d get a toothy metal surprise.
After doing this, I practiced my dungeon cackle. This was something every core must develop. I hadn’t felt like I had earned one until now. Unfortunately, my stupid gem core made the cackle sound like a mouse gloating when it found some cheese.
Moving onto the other areas of my dungeon, it was time to think about what to do in the entrance room.
I had originally planned to use the 2nd room I created as the entrance, but I had then dug out a further two tunnels and rooms so that heroes had longer to walk.
I hopped to the new entrance room at the far north side of the dungeon. Floating on my pedestal point, I considered what I should place in here, if anything.
It was all about messing with hero psychology. Did I hammer them with monsters and traps as soon as they got in my dungeon, thus signaling they had a challenge on their hands, or did I lull them into thinking this would be a breeze?
I decided on something in-between.
When I was ready, I would have Tomlin and Wylie dig out a slope from the northern wall of my northernmost room. This would serve as a way into the dungeon.
In the room, right where I planned for the slope to end, I placed a pitfall. Under it, I had Tomlin dig a twenty-five-foot drop. Enough to hurt, but probably not kill.
Then, just two steps away from this, I placed another bear trap, and I had Tomlin hide this under some mud.
Finally, two paces beyond that…I set a pressure switch on the floor.
What did it do?
Nothing!
But I had to imagine this from a hero’s point of view. Let’s say I was a somewhat new hero going into a dungeon. I would expect it to be a pretty easy dungeon.
Wham! One of my party falls into a pit on his first step into the dungeon.
Argh! Someone gets their foot chewed by a bear trap.
Now I’m on edge, I’m looking around, suspicious of everything, and that’s when I step on a pressure switch.
I don’t dare move. My heart is pounding as I wait for a trap to spring…but nothing happens. This makes me even more paranoid, more suspicious. My mental state is completely shot.
Would that work? Hmm. Maybe. As a core, part of my job is to put myself in the hero’s shoes and try and work out what would make me feel like crap.
It was worth a try, anyway. I could always change things if it was a dud, but it would mean I need to open my dungeon up soon before the overseers called an end to evaluations.
See, if heroes made it through my dungeon, it meant they might break some of my traps, kill my monsters. Then, I’d have to create more.
Since it was likely I’d have to take a loss in my first hero run so I could tweak things, I really needed to get this place open as soon as possible. I needed as much time for alterations as I could get.
After setting my traps, a message appeared to me.
Dungeon requirement satisfied!
Requirement: 1 monster, 1 trap
Requirements satisfied: 2/4
Reward: +20 total essence points [Total: 120]
Halfway there! Not only that, but I got a reward for completing my second requirement.
I love days where I just feel like I’m on fire. Not literally. I just mean when I’ve been really productive.
“Why Dark Lord so happy?” said a voice.
My kobold friends had joined me now, and I was pleased to share my progress with them. I took them on a tour of the dungeon, pointing out every switch, every trap.
“Is ready for open?” asked Wylie.
“Wylie, I have been through this with Tomlin already. You don’t need to act less intelligent than you are, just because you were taught that is how kobolds are supposed to be.”
Tomlin leaned closer to me and whispered. “Wylie really is like that. Nice kobold, good friend, but stupid.”
“Sorry, Wylie. Forget what I said. To answer your question, no. We aren’t quite ready.”
“Loot?”
“Good, you know one of the dungeon requirements! But no, we’ll come to that soon. First, I need to make a puzzle. Come on, chums.”
I hopped to room 2, which was now the middle of my dungeon rather than the most northern part, after my extensions.
Here, I checked my puzzle list.
Now, I’m not overly fond of puzzles. I know why they are used, but still…to me, a puzzle is like a trap except nobody dies. Where’s the fun in that?
I’m a graduate core and I paid attention in class, and I know why puzzles are placed in a dungeon. See, monsters and traps will hurt a hero, batter him, and make him physically tired.
Puzzles are there to fatigue his mind. To wear out those whirring cogs in a pathetic hero’s head, and add mental tiredness onto physical pain.
I checked the puzzle list now.
Puzzles
Doors [Cost 110]
Levers [Cost 125]
Tile Patterns [Cost 250]
Transmutation Station [Cost 500]
Ah, damn it. I had been hoping to make a variation of the classic floor tile puzzle, but I couldn’t afford it. Neither could I afford a set of trick levers, or a transmutation station. Though, this interested me greatly, because I had never heard of it. Not in class, not in books, nowhere. Hmm.
For now, I should only focus on the things I could afford. It was lucky that I’d earned the essence boost from satisfying another dungeon requirement, because I wouldn’t have been able to make any riddle doors, otherwise.
So, right now I had a door in room two that led to a tunnel which in turn led to the loot room.
“Tomlin,” I said, “Time for some digging.”
“Dark Lord will owe Tomlin study time.”
“Agreed.”
“Wylie,” said Tomlin. “Time for some digging.”
“Hey! I’m not giving you study credit if Wylie does the work.”
“Tomlin is supervisor. So, work carried out by kobold under his supervision, counts as his work.”
“You devious little swine. Fine. I need you to widen the room two tunnel. Make it big enough so I can put an extra door in front of it.”
Wylie, who had already leveled his mining skill to six thanks to Tomlin’s tutelage, made quick work of the tunnel. I was more than happy with his labors.
Now, I placed a riddle door next to the door that was already in front of the tunnel. The riddle door looked just like my others, except with a face on it, set in metal. It was a bloated, ponderous face. It looked like a lion that had been too successful in hunting over the years and had let himself go.
This sapped my essence to just 10 points, so I passed a little time in my core room and mentored Tomlin, while Wylie listened and tried to unde
rstand, bless him.
When I felt full of essence once again, I made another riddle door and I placed it next to the other after removing the standard door.
Okay. Now I had two riddle doors guarding the tunnel that led to my loot room. So, what’s so special about a riddle door? Why was I feeling so satisfied about my work? After all, if rogues can lockpick other doors, and mages can cast lockpick spells, why can’t they do the same for a riddle door?
It’s all in the construction.
Standard, lockable doors are made from wood. Riddle doors have essence woven deep into them, right into the grains. Not just any essence, either. Essence that has been treated so that it hardens and becomes extremely tough.
Yes, a riddle door is hard as hell to force or trick your way through. Sure, there were parties of heroes out there who would breeze through them. But for the level of heroes that my dungeon would attract, these doors would pose a decent challenge.
Just one problem; I had to set the riddle.
I faced my two riddle doors now. One had a bloated lion face, and the other had the face of a skinny monkey.
“Hello, riddle doors.”
“Tell us a riddle, make us giggle.”
“Give us a rhyme, do it in time.”
“Ah, I forgot about the rather annoying way of speaking that you have. You know, you probably make heroes want to bash your heads in.”
“They’ll never get by, unless they solve our lie.”
“Give us a conundrum, so that we may…we may…”
“Aha!” I said. “You can’t think of a rhyme for conundrum, can you? That proves it, you ridiculous doors. Your rhyming way of talking is just an act. I already told my kobolds not to conform to dungeon stereotypes, and I expect you to do the same. Okay?”
The skinny monkey door sighed. “Fine. Can we please have a riddle so that we can sleep?”
That was the thing with riddle doors. They only craved two things: riddles and sleep. Once they had a riddle given to them, they would sleep until heroes came.
“Okay. Let me think,” I said.
I needed to get this right. Overseer Bolton had taught a module on riddles, but it was only three classes. He covered classic riddles, constructing your own riddles, and do’s and don’ts. A big don’t was making an unsolvable riddle, or a nonsensical one. I had to play fair.
Gah, why can’t you think of a riddle when you really need one? I didn’t want to waste any more time making my own, so I went with a couple of dungeon core classics.
“Monkey,” I said. “This is your riddle; The more you take, the more you leave behind. What am I?”
“Easy. Footsteps.”
“Well yes. By being a riddle door, it’s in your nature to know the answer to riddles. Don’t show off. Lion, your riddle is thus: you carry it everywhere you go, and it does not get heavy. What is it?”
“Mud!” shouted Wylie.
“Your name,” said Tomlin.
“Ah, very good, Tomlin. Doors, your riddles are set. Neither of you can open until both riddles are solved, okay? Unless it’s my kobold friends trying to pass through, of course.”
“Yes. Now we sleep.”
With that, not only were my riddle doors sleeping, but I was done with puzzles.
CHAPTER 20
Bill waited until midnight. He got out of bed, checked that Lisle, his mother, and Vedetta were sleeping, and he left the house.
It was a cold, dark evening. Bats flew overhead, and the breeze sneaked down his collar and chilled him. It wasn’t the kind of evening to be prowling around, but he was worried.
Vedetta had been acting strange lately. She’d changed over the last few years, become more…mature, he guessed he’d call it. Then again, losing their father had affected them all differently. His mother, she…well, he hated to think about what this had done to her.
Bill knew that his sister thought he was lazy and that he didn’t care, but it wasn’t true. He’d just been trying to deal with things in his own way, and he was struggling. Above it all, he was still her big brother, and he was worried about her.
Vedetta had been sneaking off somewhere and doing something in secret, and Bill was anxious that she was putting herself in danger. It was his job as her big brother to protect her, and he’d made miserable work of it. It was time to pull himself together and start looking out for her.
He’d watched her sneaking off somewhere for a few days now, and now he walked away from town and over the muddy fields, to the place where she’d been digging.
Here, he found a hole. Actually, a hole with a ladder going down into the ground. Hmm. She really had been busy.
Holding his mana lamp in one hand, he carefully climbed down the ladder until he was completely underground. There, he found a tunnel, and yet another hole with a ladder.
Then another. And another.
Soon, he didn’t even know how far underground he was, and it started to feel a little creepy. Before long he reached the end of his sister’s strange warren of holes and tunnels until there was nothing but a single passageway that ended at a mud wall.
Strange. There was nothing down here. So what the hell was she doing?
He was about to leave when he heard muffled voices. The sound shocked him, and he almost dropped his lamp.
He approached the mud wall and kneeled beside it and he listened intently. It was hard to make much out at first, but the longer he listened, the more he could catch snatches of words. Soon he began to hear the voices a little better.
“No, Tomlin, no. Not there. The heroes will find it! What use is a dungeon switch if the heroes can find it? Demons alive, you’ll get us looted before we can even think!”
Loot? Heroes? Dungeons?
Bill felt a chill pass over him.
These words might have sounded strange to some people, but Bill understood their context. Years ago, Bill had considered joining a heroes’ guild. This was before he had decided to become a mage, and before his father’s death had robbed his motivation.
Now he understood what was down here, and the truth shocked him.
There was a dungeon underneath the ground! A dungeon full of loot, monsters, and traps!
This meant two things.
Vedetta was putting herself in great danger, and she probably didn’t even know it. He had no clue what she was doing down here, but it was risky.
Two, dungeons meant treasure. With treasure, maybe Bill could afford to buy the alchemist’s potion that would help their mother.
Maybe he could finally shake off his terrible lack of motivation and do something with his life. Perhaps it wasn’t too late!
He needed to wake up Lisle. He’d explain everything to him, and he’d convince him that they needed to go to the heroes’ guild, tell them about the dungeon, and maybe the heroes would accept them into their ranks.
Things weren’t so lost after all.
CHAPTER 21
My dungeon was almost complete. Of course, any core worth their essence is a perfectionist, and no core would truly think his dungeon was ever finished. I bet that not even Bolton, when he made the great Necrotomitlita dungeon, felt he was done. And that was one of the best dungeons ever made.
Still, I was keenly aware that the overseers could come evaluate me again at any time. Even worse, there was no set end for the overall testing period. If I hadn’t even opened my dungeon, much less defeated a party of heroes, by the time the overseers decided to end it, then I was done.
They’d pound me into gem dust, and that would be that. Second life finished. So, I was anxious to open this domain to a bunch of good-for-nothing, loot-greedy heroes.
With the blueprint and monster/trap requirements satisfied, this left two more. I needed loot for the loot chest, and I needed to make an entrance to the dungeon.
It wasn’t a requirement, but I also needed to create a boss monster for the loot room so that the heroes had a worthy final battle, should all my other dungeon stuff fail.
First
things first, then.
A boss monster.
There are two ways to create a boss monster for a dungeon. The first is to create one in my crafting list, but I hadn’t unlocked any yet. I guessed this would happen if I leveled up. Even then, the boss monsters you could craft were pretty standard stuff. Elite-level kobolds, elite-level fire beetles, that sort of thing.
I wanted something more special.
The next way would be to create a melding room. A weird-sounding room, to be sure, and hard to explain. I hadn’t unlocked this room type yet, so I had more work to do.
It was level-up time.
I had learned my lesson from the bogbadug that wanted to eat all the essence in my core room, and I now knew what a coward Tomlin was. I wouldn’t mess up again.
This time, I went into room three. By now I had put lockable doors in each room, so I made sure these were closed and latched, which meant the room was completely sealed.
Tomlin, Wylie, and my two fire beetles were with me now. I had already explained what we were doing, and while Tomlin looked a little nervous, Wylie was smiling and holding his wooden pickaxe in his hand. The beetles scampered around the room, chattering in their high-pitched squeaks.
“Fight?”
“Kill!”
“Fight kill!”
Ah, you have to love fire beetles. So utterly fearless, yet delightfully bloodthirsty.
“Tomlin, time to make yourself useful. Just like before, I want you to dig into the wall a little. Create holes so that the smell of the essence leaf permeates through them.”
“Wylie,” began Tomlin. “Time to make yourself useful. Dig-”
“No, Tomlin,” I said. “Wylie is ready to fight, and you’ve already proven that isn’t one of your skills. If Wylie and the beetles are fighting, then you’ll have to get your hands dirty by digging.”
The kobold sighed, but to his credit, he began digging. I guessed that inwardly, he was happy I was sparing him from battle.
After he had finished making a few holes in the wall, I had him grind up two essence leaves. He pushed the essence dust into parts of the wall and left a trail that led into the center of the room.
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