Dungeon Deposed

by William D. Arand

  Like a heavy spear piercing through armor, he felt the weight of her words shatter his bitterness.

  She was right.

  Whatever he had been previously, he was not that now. And what he was right now may not be the most comfortable of positions, but he was in no way in dire straits.

  “I lay here corrected and chastised, dearest wife,” Ryker said, grinning up at Diane.

  “Good. I’ll still punish you later.”

  “I thought you were still…?” Ryker said, leaving the question open.

  “That’s why it’s a punishment,” she said smugly.

  Oh.

  ***

  The band of mercenaries stared at the other group.

  Unfortunately for them, that other group was all blades. They knew what this meant, and how to reap the rewards the dungeon offered.

  Before a word could be spoken, the blades attacked with a ferocity that was startling.

  “Greed does so well,” Ryker thought idly.

  He disconnected himself from the dungeon spell and looked at the work desk in front of him. He’d taken a moment out of his daily tasks as the husband of the heiress to a Duchy and as a count, to see what was going on in the dungeon. He’d only been out of the loop for a day or two while he caught up with his farm but a lot had changed.

  Since the Fairies weren’t getting an opportunity to get close to him, an adventurous young Fairy had devised her own traps, monsters, and loot to entice adventurers down a branched path and to their possible doom.

  After succeeding, and wiping out an entire group of soldiers, she’d gotten the direct attention of Wynne. After reviewing what she’d done, Wynne awarded that section of the dungeon to rule over to the enterprising Fairy. Ryker had handed over the core more than willingly when Wynne asked for it as part of that reward.

  Now every Fairy was in on the contest, vying for a core and a spot of land.

  The battle for unique ideas and deaths was a real contest.

  Rubbing his hands into his eyes, Ryker grunted. “I’d rather be doing that than riding this desk,” he muttered.

  “This work is what keeps everything together,” Claire murmured from his side. “Besides, it’s not that bad.”

  “Says you,” Ryker said, staring at the paper again. “This is all so tedious.”

  “It’s better than what we could be doing,” Claire said, dipping the quill into the ink. “I’ve already been trusted with a good deal more important tasks and I live well.”

  That statement rubbed him the wrong way, but she wasn’t wrong either. He was more than positive of the fact that Claire was indeed being given some important duties. In fact he knew it since she was the one following up on requests from the front passed down to her from Diane.

  She did nothing to try and limit, alter, or delay what was requested. She did everything perfectly and with dedication to Diane.

  And he knew all this because they were still intercepting every single messenger that went in either direction.

  They were able to steal the message and alter the contents more often than not without having to harm the messenger. But not always.

  “I think I’m going to go for a walk,” Ryker said, getting up.

  “Oh? Alright. Be safe, dear,” Claire said, giving him a small smile.

  Shrugging his shoulders at the strange feeling Claire gave him, he left her there.

  Wandering down a hallway, he decided he wanted to check in on his familiar. He’d check his own room first, then Diane’s.

  See what she was up to and if she had the little lizard.

  His Homunculus, who he’d named Tar, had taken a strong liking to her immediately. If it wasn’t staring at him doing nothing, it was with Diane.

  He’d been experimenting with his new familiar as well. His personal mana pool had been increased significantly. He was now at a point where his magical stamina could be considered just shy of average.

  Not that it mattered at all anymore.

  He was a count, with a wife who was the heiress of a Duchy. He was also married into the royal family.

  Thinking about Lauren made him wince though.

  In his mind he had no difficulty picturing her face when being told the news that he’d married into the Duchess’s family.

  She’d know it was forced, of course, but that wouldn’t change the fact that it happened.

  That he was married to the family that had just sent her country into a civil war.

  Opening the door to his room he stepped inside.

  Diane was sprawled out on the ground on her chest, her face cast in shadow and fear.

  Above her was a man wrapped in blacks and browns. He had a sword that was in the process of being raised up above his head, the tip aimed down at her back.

  An assassin.

  Here to kill Diane.

  But from who?

  And why?

  I could let her die.

  That’d end my marriage and I could probably rally the city to Lauren’s banner.

  Everything would be over. She’d be dead and—

  Ryker formed the spell for a lightning bolt and threw out his right hand. The crackle of the spell sprang to life as it arced across the distance to slam into the man’s chest.

  Holding the spell in his head, he kept casting, the bolt constantly being channeled through the man’s chest and down his leg into the wooden floor. Wooden timbers exploded and the man started to smoke.

  Ryker abruptly cut the spell free as soon as he noticed.

  The stink of burnt flesh is pretty hard to get out.

  Collapsing to the ground, man and sword both, the room fell silent.

  Moving at a quick trot, Ryker got over to Diane and pulled her up from the ground. Getting her to her feet he shoved her roughly towards a corner and then backed up towards her, putting himself between her and whatever else might come.

  The man didn’t get up, and lay there smoking faintly.

  “What happened?” Ryker asked.

  “I… I… came in here to see if you were here. I wanted to see if you wanted to have lunch,” Diane said between gasping breaths. “He followed me in from the hall I think. I didn’t even see him till he knocked me down. I feel sick.”

  “Okay. Squat down and put your head between your knees. Deep breaths and try to relax,” Ryker said soothingly, watching the room.

  “Wynne?” he asked

  “Already scanning everything. I noticed as soon as he died. I can’t find anyone out of place, but that doesn’t mean they’re not there. I’ll pull the core that stored his memories and hand it to someone to sort out,” Wynne replied.

  Diane was taking deep, audible breaths behind him.

  At least she’s listening. Some people get so wound up they can’t figure out what to do.

  Ryker wasn’t quite sure what to do next. His motivations primarily ran in linear paths of thought.

  “Wynne?” he asked into the void.

  “What? A bit busy. Trying to do a patterned search and—”

  “I could use an exit strategy. I’m not really sure which way to go. I’m no party leader. Also could use a check on Adele and Claire.”

  “Oh. I see. Ah… yes, yes. Sorry. Take the hallway, head down to the first floor, and then go out. Tris and Charlotte are on their way to you. I doubt whoever’s there is there for Claire or Adele though. No guarantee on that,” Wynne said, then her presence faded as she seemingly tuned him out.

  “Great. That’ll have to do. Uh, how you doing back there, Diane? It might be a good time to get out of here and get rolling to… well… anywhere else. The smoking corpse over there isn’t getting any fresher,” Ryker asked, trying for humor.

  “I don’t know. I don’t feel as if I’m going to throw up anymore. But I feel lightheaded,” she said.

  “Yeah, too much breathing? Try not breathing for a bit. In the meantime, give me that hand of yours and stay close,” Ryker said.

  He reached backward behind himself and
grabbed at whatever was there and ended up with a handful of hair.

  “Stop it,” Diane fussed, audibly standing up.

  He felt her lay her hand in his.

  “You seen Tar?” Ryker asked.

  At the sound of its name, the Homunculus popped up from the bed and hovered in midair, staring at him.

  “Your timing is piss-poor, bud. Going to need to work on that. You’re worthless as a familiar otherwise,” Ryker said. Gripping Diane’s hand tightly, he turned and exited the room, immediately heading down the hallway.

  Taking the steps quickly, and dragging Diane along bodily, he hit the doors at a decent rate of speed. Barreling out into the street he looked down towards the left, then the right. Charlotte and Tris came running towards him from opposite directions. Tris with her sword out and shield held low. Charlotte was coming on at a full sprint but had nothing in her hands.

  “Which way do we go?” Diane asked.

  “Farm. It’s not exactly a fortress, but nothing is allowed up there and the dungeon enforces that,” Ryker said.

  “Wait, why would the dungeon enforce that?”

  “Questions for another time,” Ryker said at the same time Charlotte came to a single step’s distance of him. “Charlotte, we’re aiming for the farm, right?”

  “Yes,” said the Fairy immediately, looking towards Tris.

  She made a hand signal towards her and then gestured down the road.

  Tris careened off a random pedestrian and sent him into the ground, angling herself down the road Charlotte had indicated.

  “Time to go. Try your best to keep up. I’m sure as hell not looking to carry you there, dear, so…” Ryker let the statement hang there as he started off after Tris.

  “What?” squawked Diane, her hand tightening in his.

  “I said run, damnit.”

  Tris lifted her shield up in front of her and used it as a plow. Knocking people down both to her left and right, Tris didn’t pause or even falter.

  How strong is she exactly? That doesn’t seem normal. Even for an avatar, she still has to fall within the boundaries the body would support.

  Right?

  “Ryker, I found two more. They were waiting out near the outskirts. I think they figured out there was a problem,” Wynne sent him.

  “Okay. Good that you found them. That’s certainly need-to-know information. We’re heading to the farm. Any chance you could get the Vanguard kicked up?”

  “Already did. They’re there in full numbers, but trying to remain out of sight. At this point, it wouldn’t do to spook the populace.”

  “No. The sheeple need to feel content,” Ryker sent back with a hint of bitterness.

  “Speaking of sheeple, is there any particular reason you decided to intervene? You could have let your wife die quite easily and be divorced. Death do you part, admittedly, but divorced. Personally I don’t care one way or the other. Who holds the crown is unimportant to our goals.”

  “I don’t know. Is there any chance the other two aren’t aware of which way we’re going?”

  “I’d imagine they don’t know, no. But they’ll figure it out,” Wynne communicated, and then he felt her awareness fall off again.

  Where the hell is she going?

  Tris ducked down low in front of him and sent a rather overweight man tumbling over her shoulder and to one side.

  “Oh my gods!” Diane said.

  “Yeah, well, a problem for another time,” Ryker said.

  “You keep saying another time,” Diane said, panting loudly. “I worry that there might not be another one.”

  “Uh… worry about that another time?”

  Tris switched tracks and took them down a narrow alleyway, her speed only increasing.

  Thankfully Diane fell silent after that, and the only sound anyone could hear was the pounding of boots on stones, and Diane gasping.

  It took only a handful of minutes to hit the edge of the farm, but it felt more like to hours.

  Trekking upward towards their goal, Ryker glanced backward. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

  Doesn’t that only mean that they’re good at their jobs?

  Grumbling to himself he pulled on Diane’s hand again.

  “What? We’re at the farm,” she complained.

  “Yeah, the edge. We’re going up to my farmhouse.”

  Tris had stopped and moved around behind him. Charlotte on the other hand had charged up the hill.

  It wasn’t until they all made it to the farm that he released Diane’s hand. Only to grab her by the shoulder and stuff her into the farmhouse after opening the door.

  “Stay inside,” he said, closing the door abruptly.

  “What? I… by myself?” Diane called back.

  “I promise there’s nothing in there but maybe some spiders. Just… take a seat and wait.”

  “Spiders…?”

  Shaking his head, Ryker clapped his hands together and rubbed them briefly for a second, trying to clear his mind.

  Immediately the spellform for a shielding grew and he spun up the mana needed for the construct. Tar landed on his head and took the entire spell from him, amplifying it, and then dropping it into the place Ryker had been planning on.

  A large golden cube burst into life around the farmhouse.

  “Oh, good job. Where were you when there was a man with a sword?”

  “Eating,” Tar projected into his head.

  “You… were eating. Good. Good,” Ryker said, his teeth grinding together as his anger abruptly boiled out of control.

  “Agree. Eating is good.”

  Resisting the urge to grab his newly acquired familiar and wring it out like a wet sock, Ryker turned around.

  From this view, he could see countless Fairy Avatars spread throughout the farm. Laying down, crouched low amongst brush, or pressed up behind trees.

  He was suddenly thankful that the approach to his farmhouse he’d left wild, instead of the docile boring fields that he worked on.

  They were a multitude of races, body types, and professions.

  “Is that a fucking Troll?” Ryker asked no one in particular.

  “Yes. It is,” Wynne said casually from beside him.

  “Ha? And where’d you come from,” Ryker asked, eying her. She looked like she was wearing a blanket stolen from a clothes line.

  “I flew. I realized I can change my size accordingly when I wish so no one saw me come this way,” Wynne said. Grimacing, she sighed. “It’s… not good for clothes but it gets me places quickly.”

  “That explains the horse blanket I guess. So… the two would-be killers?” he asked, forcing his mind from what was under said blanket.

  “In the city. They’re out near that red-roofed building near the edge,” Wynne said, gesturing with her chin.

  “Oh? Charlotte, think your team could give them a run for their money or—”

  “There’d be more problems than you’d want out of it,” came the straight response from Tris. “I’d suspect a few lost Avatars but that’s nothing. I think it would be harder to explain the fight, however.”

  “Ugh. Alright. Keep an eye on them. When they go to bed tonight we’ll just… spawn hundreds of venomous critters all over them. Let them drown in that. People can wonder all they like about that in the morning.”

  “I’m afraid we don’t have any ‘venomous critters’ to speak of,” Wynne said.

  “Do we have a venomous anything? Wait, what about that Troll. They have venom, don’t they?”

  “Ah… I suppose they do. But I think a Troll wouldn’t—”

  “There we go. Trolls. Let’s drop that Troll Fairy thing on them. I’ll give her a damn core if she can kill both. I’ll let her pick a piece of the dungeon to maintain if she eats the bodies and cleans the mess up, too.”

  “I don’t think she’ll need to eat them, dear. She can just bring the corpses back and we’ll absorb them,” Wynne said.

  “That works, too. Whatever.”
>
  “As an aside, I took the liberty of making sure your dear wife couldn’t hear any of this. You might want to be more careful about that in the future. All that work saving her life would be for naught if she knew about the dungeon, now wouldn’t it?” Wynne asked.

  Ryker grumbled, wrinkling his nose. “I’m just a wizard who makes things explode or die. Or farms. Situation depending.”

  Wynne sniffed at that and left him there, walking towards a small group of fairy avatars waiting off to one side.

  “Hungry. Eat again,” Tar thought at him.

  Ryker’s eyes felt like they were going to fall out of his head as he stared at his familiar.

  Rather than kill his familiar outright, Ryker opened the door to the farmhouse, entered, and slammed it shut.

  His familiar was locked out on the other side.

  Chapter 22- Hollow -

  Diane was waiting for him on the other side of the door. She still had a look of frenzied panic to her, but it was clear she was doing her best to hold it all down.

  “Ryker, I think later is now? Please?” she asked, her voice going up in volume on the last word.

  “I… yeah. Maybe it is at that. How about we go in there,” Ryker said, gesturing to a doorway to his right. “Has a comfy chair or two. It’d be better if we did this while not standing up.”

  “That is… acceptable,” Diane said, her fingers clutching into her forearms.

  Ryker nodded his head once and then led the way, stepping through the doorway and into the other room.

  Taking up a seat without bothering to offer her one, she’d sit if she wanted he figured, Ryker slumped into a padded chair.

  “How about we start with what that was about in our home?” Diane said, her voice growing in strength.

  “What, the dead guy? I have no idea. Looked like he was going to turn you into a skewer. You said he followed you in?”

  “Yes. Or so I assume,” Diane said. Looking at one of the chairs, she sat lightly in it and smoothed out her dress with her hands. “I could of course be wrong but… I don’t see how else they would have gotten in. Your room was chosen for you for a reason.”