Dungeon Core Academy: Books 1-7 (A LitRPG Series)

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Dungeon Core Academy: Books 1-7 (A LitRPG Series) Page 83

by Alex Oakchest


  “There’s a problem, Dark Lord,” said Shadow.

  “Don’t tell me someone witnessed the assassination.”

  “Only three of Dullbright’s toughest guards, but I killed them before they could even notice me. The issue is that this mimic smells absolutely terrible.”

  “Excuse me?” said the mimic.

  “With every offense intended, mimic, you stink in this form.”

  “I told you, Shadow, the mimic has a tell, but this will diminish the more he levels. Until then, douse him in talcum powder and perfume. That won’t look suspicious. All nobles are powdered enough that it becomes a second skin.”

  “As you wish,” said Mimic Dullbright. “There are many powders in the governor’s chamber.”

  “Good. Go with something floral and strong.”

  “I do not need such intense management. I will use my initiative.”

  “Well done, both of you. When you get back to the dungeon, we’ll have a celebration. Hogsfeate is ours now, my friends! A whole town at our mercy. We just need to replace a few guards, cement our power by assessing who are the most influential people in town and getting rid of the ones we don’t like, and then we’re looking good! Now, Shadow, get your arse back to the dungeon, and we’ll discuss your rewards.”

  “What about Eric?

  “Our delightful barbarian is going to stay in Hogsfeate for a while. I have a feeling that governer Dullbright wants to appoint him as his personal guard.”

  “Oh.”

  “You sound disappointed,” I said.

  “I just…forget it. Eric will do an excellent job, Dark Lord. Am I to return alone, then?”

  I understood the implication in her words. Or I thought I did, at least. Being so far away from the dungeon, the maker-creature bond that made Shadow obey me wouldn’t be effective. If she disposed of my core shards, I would have no way of contacting her. That was why I had asked Eric to keep an eye on her on their journey to Hogsfeate.

  But Shadow had done everything I asked of her, and her attitude seemed changed. It would do no good to start brandishing an iron fist now that we were finally coming to an understanding. Good work had to be repaid with trust, I was learning.

  “Leave under the cover of night, and you will be back before you know it. Thank you for your work, Shadow. Now, Mimic Dullbright, here is what I need you to do. First, you need to order someone to bring you a log of the town’s accounts. Next, we need a book of laws…”

  “You wanted to see us, Sir Dullbright?”

  I heard the sounds of feet shuffling into a room. Chairs creaked as people sunk their weight into them. Next came the glug-glug-glug of wine being poured from a decanter.

  Listening to this from my core room and having to content myself with merely imaging the scene in the town across the wasteland was frustrating. I wasn’t used to having so little control. At least with my shards tucked securely in Mimic Dullbright’s pocket, I could listen to the meeting and direct the mimic’s role in it.

  “Who’s there with you?” I asked him using my core voice.

  The mimic replied without speaking aloud. “The people you told me to summon, Dark Lord. Pvat, from the heroes’ guild. Kathryn Crutchley, head of the town guardship. Marlheinz Torp, town lawmaster.”

  “Good. Now just remember what I said; keep this simple and to the point. Brook no objections from them. If they overstep their mark, raise your voice. Pick up a vase and smash it on the ground. Losing your temper befits a governer like Dullbright.”

  “Do I teach you how to create traps, Dark Lord? I am a mimic. I already possess more information on this man’s behaviors than you can dream of.”

  “My last mimic didn’t have this kind of attitude, you know. Get on with it.”

  A man cleared his throat. “How are you feeling today, Sir?” I recognized this voice; it was Pvat.

  “I understand you have not left your chambers in two days,” said another man. Even if I hadn’t worked out his identity from having already spoken to Pvat, Marlheinz’s accent would have given him away. “A quite sudden and intense illness, no? I trust you are better. Back home, we crush peppercorn and mix with saffron for delicate…um, what is word for body container that food sits in after we eat…tummies! Yes.”

  I might have been paranoid, but I was sure I detected a hint of suspicion in both Pvat’s and Marlheinz’s voices. I just hoped that the mimic could back up his bluster.

  “When I want the remedies of mad old housewives, I’ll ask for them, Marlheinz. Are you the town healer? No. Stick to matters of the law from now on,” said Mimic Dullbright.

  “Well,” said Kathryn, laughing. “You certainly seem recovered, sir.”

  “A blessing,” agreed Pvat. He descended into a coughing fit, no doubt the result of breathing in the stench of powder coming from the mimic. He was, however, wise enough not to remark on the governor’s smell.

  “Yes,” said Marlheinz. “Very good. Might I enquire reason for our visit?”

  Mimic Dullbright gave a burp. “Sorry. I am still a tiny bit delicate.”

  “Good touch,” I said.

  “Thank you.”

  “Time to tell them what we discussed.”

  “Now,” continued the mimic, “There are three things I would like to talk about. Firstly, Marlheinz, I would like to make a change to a town bylaw.”

  “You have already pushed powers of taxation to limit, governer…”

  “Not that. It appears our town’s laws maintain the freedom of movement of all races, be they kobold, gnome, orc, or even core. On the other hand, some provisions allow our guardship to detain, pester, and search such individuals. No more. I want these laws stripped, and I want guards’ rights curtailed so that warrants and reasonable cause are necessary for any such actions.”

  “Preposterous!” said Kathryn. “Strip our powers, Sir? We need ‘em!”

  “Need them for what?” said Mimic Dullbright. “To use them as an excuse to search the wagons of orc traders and take a cut of their wares? To threaten gnomish visitors to Hogsfeate with intense questioning and searches of their person unless they pay levies to enter our gates?”

  “I don’t know what stories my lord has been hearing but my men are as honest as the sun.”

  “The sun? Pah. He’s an arrogant prat.”

  “The sun?” said Mimic Dullbright. “Pah. He’s an arrogant prat.”

  “I beg your pardon, sir?”

  “You don’t need to repeat everything I say,” I told the mimic.

  “Sorry, Dark Lord.”

  “Carry on. They’re giving you too much lip; show your authority as I told you.”

  “You presume to question me?” thundered Mimic Dullbright.

  I heard the sound of a chair scraping, something smashing, and then the sound of three other chairs scraping.

  “Sir Dullbright, what has gotten into you?” said Marlheinz.

  “Tone it down! I meant to give them a little warning. Going from calm to complete fury is the sign of a madman! Your anger needs to build gradually.”

  Mimic Dullbright gave another burp. “Apologies. My illness has disturbed my sleep and left me feeling testy. Now, Marlheinz, you will change the laws as I ordered.”

  “Yes, governor. It will take time for my scribes to…”

  “It will take one day, no more.”

  “Yes, governer.”

  “Now, Kathryn,” said Mimic Dullbright, “Your guards are to begin acting on these new laws immediately. Visitors to Hogsfeate are to be treated with respect no matter what their species.”

  “If my governer commands, then it will be done.”

  “Remember the other bit,” I said.

  “As well as that, there are two guards on the gates who will be replaced immediately. They usually work the afternoon shift.”

  “Len and Ben? They've been with the guardship for years.”

  “I want them replaced with guards who are more receptive to the changes I am making. Give Len and
Ben other duties.”

  “But…”

  “Did I not word this clearly enough?”

  “Your orders are clear.”

  “Last one,” I told the mimic, thoroughly enjoying myself and waiting for the best moment of all.

  “Now, Pvat,” said Dullbright. “you are wondering why you are here, no?”

  “Well, not quite,” replied Pvat, in a smug voice. “His governorship did promise me extra resources for the heroes’ guild.”

  “I have been putting great thought into the funds that the town gives to the heroes’ guild, Pvat. Great thought indeed. Let me ask you something. Your heroes earn loot from dungeons, yes? Of that loot, you give a certain portion to the town in the form of taxation, yes?”

  “That is correct. A high taxation rate, if I may be so bold.”

  “Ah, so you are capable of showing boldness are you, Pvat? It has been my observation that chickens pace their coops with a braver strut than I’ve ever seen from you.”

  Kathryn tittered now.

  “Is something funny, guard?” asked Pvat.

  “You heroic prats swan around town in your capes and your fancy armor. My lads could knock yours over with a feather,” she said.

  Hmm. I was beginning to like this Kathryn. Just a little.

  “Your guards are about as refined as a pig scoffing swill.”

  “Funny, Pvat. I don’t remember refinement having much influence in the Battle of the Sixth Wall, or the East Teeter skirmish. You know, in real fights. I was there…didn’t see hair nor hide of you, though.”

  “Real fights? My heroes are…”

  “You’re losing control of them. Shout ‘enough’. Do it really loudly.”

  “Enough!” boomed Dullbright. “Tell me this, Pvat. How much loot taxation does the heroes’ guild pay?”

  “Oh, as much as we can, Sir Dullbright. But alas, loot earned from a dungeon is scarce. Labyrinths just aren’t as well-stocked as they should be, these days. Often, cores leave only a few silver coins in their loot chests.”

  “What absolute bullshit.”

  “What absolute bullshit,” said Mimic Dullbright.

  “Oh? Does…does our governer know more about dungeons than we supposed? I apologize if I have underestimated his knowledge.”

  “Remember what I told you,” I said.

  “I suspect, Pvat, that if we were to check the heroes’ guild stores, we would find that the loot recorded in your quarterly reports wouldn’t quite match the loot kept under lock and key in your fancy guild.”

  “Check our stores? Town laws state you cannot search a private domicile, no? And our heroes live in the guild, and thus it is registered as a domicile. That’s right, isn’t it, Marlheinz?”

  “Eh, I suppose. This is beginning to bore me. You bore me, Pvat.”

  What do you know? Now I was beginning to like lawmaker Marlheinz, too.

  “Laws can be changed,” said Mimic Dullbright. “Firstly, laws that define what is and isn't a domicile. Secondly, laws regarding what does and doesn't constitute a legal search warrant.”

  “Well, it makes no difference, governer. Our loot haul is meager. Our guild must make ends meet by completing jobs posted on the person-at-arms board.”

  “And you stumble into another topic. The heroes’ guild will not be given preferential treatment for such jobs. By doing so, it has meant that barbarians and other mercenaries struggle to find work. I do not need to remind you that poor barbarians do not spend gold in town taverns, nor do they buy weapons, armor, or other things they need for quests. This, coupled with the creative accounting of your loot in order to lessen your taxes, mean that the heroes guild is a leech on the Hogsfeate economy. I had it in mind to issue a closing order.”

  “You cannot do that,” said Pvat, smugly.

  “It is true,” added Marlheinz. “Our laws insist on the existence of a heroes’ guild. The law is written in such a way that it offers no room for tweaking.”

  “Make Pvat think he has won,” I told the mimic. “It will be all the sweeter.”

  “Oh well,” said Dullbright. “I suppose I’ll have to leave things as they are.”

  “A wise decision, Sir,” said Pvat.

  “Now. Hit the smug prat with it.”

  “Oh, wait a second. There are a few things the laws allow the governer to change. Firstly, all heroes’ loot will be inspected and itemized at the town gates. Kathryn, you will make sure your guards are aware of this.”

  “An absolute pleasure, sir.”

  “Secondly, the heroes’ guild most likely will not meet the new definition of a domicile that Marlheinz and I will agree on, so I suppose that will mean increased levies.”

  “But Sir Dullbright, you can’t-”

  “Thirdly, the town will revoke any monetary resources we provide to the guild. I have seen in our accounts that the town gives the heroes’ guild grants for taking on apprentices who don’t seem to exist, for forging weapons of which there are no records at all, and for raiding troublesome dungeons that, in actual fact, have been closed down for decades. These grants are not being fulfilled, and thus will stop.”

  “Sir,” stammered Pvat. “The guild provides a service for the town. It…uh…we…uh…”

  “Stand up in a pompous way as you can manage, and leave the room,” I told the mimic.

  “Thank you so much for your time, ladies and gentlemen. A most productive use of our day. Here’s to changes in Hogsfeate.”

  “One second…I forgot about the last thing. The trader.”

  “Yes, Dark Lord,” said the mimic.

  “Oh, there was one last thing,” said Mimic Dullbright. “Kathryn, there is a cotton merchant named Claus who has been witness breaking the ‘Treatment of Livestock and Beasts of Burden act.’ Please see that he is dealt with.”

  “Dealt with?”

  “Not like that! Have him spend a month working in the stables under intense supervision. Perhaps he’ll come to appreciate the importance of caring for his animals.”

  “A pleasure, Sir Dullbright.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Razensen’s Unit:

  Kobolds [x6] have leveled up to 6! [Arena boost active]

  Bone guys [x4] have leveled up to 5! [Arena boost active]

  Shrub Bandits [x4] have leveled up to 9! [Arena boost active]

  - Maginhart [Kobold] has progressed in studies!

  Tinkering – Apprentice - [Progress to level 1: 23%]

  Alchemy – Apprentice - [Progress to level 1: 14%]

  Artificery – Apprentice - [Progress to level 1: 12%]

  The following three days passed in a blur of activity. With things in Hogsfeate going along nicely and the situation in Yondersun more settled, it meant I could devote more time to what I truly enjoyed; adding to the horror of my dungeon.

  With my essence once again replenished, I used it to add to my stable of creatures, but I did so with one final task in mind; killing Cael Pickering.

  As such, I had to choose creatures bred for slaughter. I didn’t need kobolds who could dig tunnels, I didn’t require any dungeon birds who could swoop around and scout the wasteland for me. I needed horrible creatures who could do horrible things.

  After putting thought into it, I settled on a few new creatures.

  Monsters created:

  Stone dwarf troll x5

  Bogbadug x3

  Essence remaining: 5/1505

  With that simple act of creation, my essence was gone and it would be days before it replenished. I suspected that Cael would not be sitting on his arse much longer, and the longer I left it, the more chance that I would lose my chance at going through the portal and surprising him.

  Standing before me were five little trolls made of granite and three giant frogs that hopped around the chamber, bouncing off walls and leaping over the trolls’ heads, earning grunts in return.

  The trolls had little dexterity and even less brainpower, yet they could take a battering and soak up plenty of heroic
attacks before they felt the damage.

  The bogbadugs, meanwhile, offered speed and agility, and they could jump high enough that they would be able to attack any flank without much maneuvering.

  “Welcome to the dungeon,” I told them. “I would normally arrange for an induction, but you join us at a busy time. Please make your way to the arena for training.”

  “What…is…ahreeenar?” grunted a troll.

  “A big chamber full of straw dummies and targets where even lumps like you can become warriors. Just leave by the tunnel and you’ll see my mining crew. They’ll give you directions.”

  The trolls lumbered away and the bogbadugs sprang around them, leaving me alone with Gulliver.

  “Any sign of Shadow yet?” he said.

  “Nothing. Three days, and not a sign. She should have been back by now.”

  “Do you suppose she…”

  “She’ll be back. She’s loyal to the dungeon.”

  “Perhaps her absence isn’t her choice. Anything can happen in the wasteland.”

  “Reginal and Galatee have kindly agreed to send a few scouts out to the desert. I told them that I had asked Shadow to go buy supplies from Hogsfeate.”

  “Let’s hope that she is okay. Looks as though you’re almost ready for Cael, huh?”

  “I could always use more time to make more monsters, but there’s such a thing as overpreparing. Even so…”

  “You don’t sound too optimistic, Beno.”

  “There’s something about Cael that makes my nonexistent pores drip with nonexistent sweat.”

  “No, this won’t do. This doesn’t sound like you at all. Look at it this way, you dreary diamond. You have made friends with the chiefs! You practically own a whole bloody town! You should be proud of yourself. I’m proud of you, Beno.”

  “Thanks, Gull. I mean that. I couldn’t have done this without your help.”

  “Scribes aren't supposed to get involved, you know. The Scribes’ Guild Law of Scribalistic Neutrality. We’re supposed to remain in the middle, neither one side nor the other. But, since I got myself kicked out of the scribe’s guild by helping you destroy that Collector guy a while ago, there’s no point me worrying about silly things like guild laws.”

 

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