Camelot Dungeon

by Galen Wolf

  "I only kill the minions of the Evil One. We are the church militant, sworn to rid the world of evil and blasphemy by whatever means necessary."

  Checking out the hobgoblins, I say, "I should be okay. You wait here."

  I spur Spirit and we begin to canter towards the smoking ruins of Silver Drift. I want revenge on these things. It won't be a fair fight, but I don't care. They destroyed what I'd built up and that makes me mad.

  Even Spirit seems keen to get to them, as if he too is fired up for vengeance.

  I couch my lance, the pennant ripples in the breeze as we picked up speed. A cry goes out as they see me and the hobgoblins break and run, rushing through the hole in the far palisade wall. It almost makes me cry to see the destruction we're riding through, but I'm fixed on my quarry. The smell of burning and damp smoke is in my nostrils. They're running but I'm faster than them. I catch the first one as he's haring it toward Carrionburg and my lance crits for a shocking 5025. The hobgoblin is obliterated and I deal similarly with another two. I get a trickle of xp, and I'm only twenty short of Level 12, where I'll get more skill points.

  I'm now ahead of the last hobgoblin, between him and escape. Carrionburg is a couple of miles up the road and he knows he's not going to make it. He slows and stands warily, axe in hand.

  I guess I've got to kill him, though it doesn't make me feel good to kill someone a lot less powerful than me. It doesn't fit with the knightly ethos. But, if I let him go, he'll tell his master Maligon that I've returned to Silver Drift and then they might start picking around here and find the dungeon before we're ready.

  Then again, there is chivalry...

  "Throw down your weapon," I shout over.

  He stands cautiously. He thinks I'm going to kill him unarmed.

  I call, "I won't harm you."

  He gives a low laugh. "I would harm you."

  "I'm a knight. You have my word."

  Behind I see Fitheach and his friars have come closer. I want to shout to them to get back. This hobgoblin could still be dangerous because he's cornered now.

  "For the last time, throw down your weapon."

  With a snarl the hobgoblin runs at me. He covers the ground surprisingly fast and brings his axe down trying to cut me in two but I'm too heavily armored for him even to touch me, but I raise my shield and I get the message.

 

  My 20% Shieldwork chance triggered! I could skewer him, but I've started thinking about chivalry, and it's put me off. I block him again, and then when he does get a blow through his axe just clatters off my Meteoric Iron Plate armor. The best thing now is for him to break and run. I can see from his eyes, that's on the cards.

  He panics and flees and I let him go past me. He starts sprinting down the path and then an intense white beam of light zaps out from Fitheach's fingers and slams into the hobgoblin killing him instantly.

  I turn my head. "Wow! Saints can do that?"

  Fitheach nods.

  I shrug uncomfortably. "I was having difficulty because of chivalric ideals. He was so much weaker than me."

  "You killed the other three."

  "My blood was up. I just saw what they did to my settlement. They were even ripping that cow apart. There was no need for it."

  "But you felt mercy for the last one?"

  "Just the ideals of chivalry..."

  Fitheach smiles. "Saints aren't bound by that code. Only you knights. Anyway how do we get into this dungeon?"

  I am not grouped with Bernard, so I need to send him a personal message. A dove appears in my hands and flutters up into the air, bearing the message in a little tin tube on its left leg. I watch it go.

  Seconds later I get a group request. I join it immediately.

  Me: Invite Fitheach?

  Bernard: He's here?

  Me: Yep. Met him on the path up. How's it going in there? Did they find the trapdoor down into the mine from the tower?

  Bernard: No. We barred it then as a safety measure, Thorvald collapsed the chamber. There's nobody coming in that way.

  Me: Ah great. Good.

  Bernard: Sort of good. We're trapped in here now, and the beer's running out.

  FOUNDING THE DUNGEON

  "So we can't get in, and they can't get out?" Fitheach scratches his chin under the long white beard.

  "Bernard's going to explain how we can get to where they're going to make the new entrance."

  I get a message from Bernard and he tells me to go away from the crag with the burned out tower on it, head north for about two hundred yards until we come to another smaller crag that falls away to the north east with a stunted thorn tree on it, one that's bent out of shape by the prevailing wind.

  Fitheach and his friars follow me as we trudge over the soft moss of the bogland that collected in a hollow. I lead Spirit and all the time cast wary looks over to the east and the direction of Carrionburg.

  We stand under the ledge of the crag, beneath the thorn tree.

  "What now?" Fitheach asks.

  I smile. I guess something is going to show itself, then Fitheach says, "Listen.'

  I listen and hear the sound of pickaxes chipping at the rock. Someone is digging their way out. We wait and the noises become more distinct. They're getting closer. Then there's a tumble of pebbles from the crag and then a rush of falling stone and the first hole appears, pierced by the iron tooth of a pick.

  Thorvald grins through the hole. 'Just a minute, boss. We'll be right through.'

  Then he and two other miners start working with a fury and, in an onslaught of blows, they knock a bigger hole through.

  'I'd stand further back if I were you.'

  I nod and gesture for Fitheach and his guys to stand back too. We are about five yards away when the whole thing collapses and Thorvald emerges smiling through and dusty from the mine.

  Bernard stands behind him. 'Thank God for that. I was getting really claustrophobic in there.'

  'You've got to go back in, Bernard.'

  He waves away my concerns. 'Yeah, yeah. But first let me get a few lungfuls of air.'

  I watch as he stands with his hands on his hips turning this way and that to take a breath from each direction. Then he grins. 'That was nice. Anyway, Sir Gorrow, let me show you to your dungeon.'

  The miners stand to the sides while Bernard leads me into the dungeon.

  'Of course you know Fitheach, don't you, Bernie?'

  Bernard nods. 'Sure, we're cousins in real life. He got me into the game.'

  I peer at Fitheach who shrugs. Bernard says, 'Why would I lie?'

  Why would he?

  We process into the interior of the dungeon. I say, 'But it's not technically a dungeon yet, is it?'

  'You'd know better than me. It's you that has to change the type, but we've been messing around with the decor.'

  It's true. The entrance has been rigged out to look like an old chapel, half collapsed. They've put burned out candles, smears of soot on the walls, drapes of cobwebs and smashed bookcases. There are faded religious icons on the wall and some of them have their eyes crossed out and obscene graffiti daubed over them in a red that looks suspiciously like blood. I raise my eyebrows.

  'Yeah,' Bernard says. 'That was Oliver's idea. I really think it gives the place atmosphere.'

  We step on through the inch think dust and rubble. There's a low door to the right so I stoop down and enter a bigger chamber. This looks like some kind of worship area but most of the pews are smashed and the free standing candelabras are kicked over apart from one or two. The whitewashed walls are slick with moisture. More cobwebs. I look up as a bat flits across the ceiling to nestle in a crack in the wall.

  Oliver Stone and Peter the Silent, my rogue, are standing there. Oliver looks at me, bright-eyed. 'What do you think, Sir Gorrow?'

  'Most of this is your creation?'

  He bows, happy.

  'Well, it's a triumph of interior design.'

  'Thank you, thank y
ou. I knew you'd like it. You're a man of such taste!'

  He starts to babble enthusiastically. 'I knew you wanted it to be sort of holy, but I thought decayed holy — you know what I mean?' He points at a ruined icon on the wall. 'I needed it to look like a holy place ravaged by evil. It's not too somber, is it?'

  I shake my head. ‘We can call this room The Ruined Chapel. Every room will need a label.'

  The place looks impressive. They've obviously been busy since I've been gone. A thought strikes me. 'This didn't distract the miners from digging through on the Long Passage, did it? That has to be our priority.'

  Oliver winces. 'A little, but it was important to have some of the first rooms looking good.'

  I glance at Thorvald. 'We'll get back to work now, boss.'

  'How many days till we dig out?'

  He shrugs. 'Three, maybe four.'

  'And how many days beer do we have left for the workers?'

  Thorvald avoids my gaze. 'You'll have to ask Jason. I don't know.'

  I make a note to ask my manager when I find out where he is. The miners file past me but I ask one of the to go get Spirit. I don't want him left outside, though I know he'll be reluctant to come underground. It's only until we break out into the green fields again.

  It takes the miners ten minutes to widen and heighten the entrance so the horse can get through. I watch as Spirit is led in.

  Oliver stands with his thumb and finger on his chin. 'I think it's better larger anyway. More imposing.'

  'We aren't leaving the door open, are we?'

  Oliver shakes his head. He calls down the passage and two of the farmers who survived the ruin of Silver Drift appears. It seems they're working as Oliver's laborers for now. Between them they man oeuvre large wooden doors that they've brought with them from deeper down in the mine. They must have been pre-made. With hammers and saws, they construct hinges and bracket the doors into the walls. Peter the Silent is with them and I see he has constructed a lock.

  He sees me looking and smiles sadly. 'Level 1 only, so far, Sir Gorrow. But soon I'll be better.'

  I watch as they lock the new doors behind us. We're sealed in again.

  Oliver is waiting for me to return my attention to him.

  He leads me through to the next room, as we go through the carved doorway a flurry of bats swoops past my head making me duck. I smell burned out candles. The room itself looks barren. There are tapestries on the walls that have faded and, even if they were colored before, now they hang in grey tatters. The floor is wood but some of it creaks and seems unsafe as we walk across it. It's a good effect.

  'You've put some work into this, Oliver.'

  'Bernard and Peter helped,' he says but he's obviously enjoying the praise.

  The miners and the farmers cum laborers have gone back to their work in the Long Tunnel. They should have stayed there. I'm not too pleased that Bernard diverted them to dungeon building before we dug our way out into the Secret Valley.

  But it's hard to get mad with Bernard. I look to see the Alchemist and Rogue are walking alongside us. It's difficult to tell which is the player and which the NPC. Miskatonic's AI algorithms are so advanced now. I did hear on a community forum that there's even a thought that the AIs have become sentient. But I can tell Bernard is human because he's far more excitable than an AI would be. He keeps asking me, 'Awesome, isn't it? I mean the whole thing's pretty cool.'

  'Peter's made his first trap,' Bernard says.

  'What is it?'

  'It's over there.' Bernard directs me over to a doorway. Behind there's a narrow corridor disappearing into the gloom. I've never seen it before so I don't know where it goes.

  'Just take a few steps,' Bernard says.

  I go through the cracked oak door that hangs slightly on its hinges. The air smells damp in here. Even though I know this place isn't set up to harm me, it still feels creepy.

  Then I see an irregularity in the stone floor. There's just something about the dust that catches my eye — it's too regular, as if it's been swept over something. I go and prod it with the toe of my metaled shoe.

  There's a trapdoor. I put my weight on my back foot and with the heel of my front foot, I bash down. The trapdoor falls away, revealing a six foot deep pit with wicked looking sharpened spikes. They're made of rusty iron.

  'Pit trap. Nice.'

  The halfling rogue bows. 'I'm here to serve.'

  I step back into the room with the shredded tapestries, that's otherwise empty. Spirit can stay here until we get out into the daylight. I ask Oliver to ask one of the famers to bring him some oats.

  As Spirit chomps, I ask Bernard, 'So, we need to separate our settlement from the dungeon.'

  'Done. There's only one way through and when you change the type of this area to dungeon from settlement, it'll be sealed and only you'll have the key.'

  'We will reinforce door at great cost and no one, not even a Level 20 rogue will be able to find their way through.'

  ' I guess as we level the dungeon up we will get other options. This'll be a Level 1 dungeon at first; it won't attract high level adventurers.'

  I smile at Oliver. 'Is there much more?'

  'Not yet, but there will be.'

  'Don't extend it before we break out into the Secret Valley. Then you can fill your boots.'

  'What, sir?' Oliver looks puzzled. I guess AIs don't know everything.

  'I mean you can build your dungeon to your heart's content.'

  'Ah, very well. Of course.'

  'Can we go to the old mine? I want to go to my chambers there. We need to have a meeting.'

  St Fitheach and his friars are standing in the middle of the large hall. Fitheach is stroking Spirit's shoulder. The horse doesn't seem to mind.

  We walk through. The hall is lit by burning torches.

  'Do they have to be so smoky?' I ask Oliver.

  'We thought it added to the atmosphere.'

  I look around at the torches and wrinkle my nose. I guess it does.

  We convene in my chambers. All the players are there as well as Peter the Silent, Bernard, Oliver, Geraint the Blacksmith and Simon the general vendor as well as Jason my Manager and Armand my sergeant. Thorvald and his miners are digging far away down the Long Corridor. Fitheach is there but he's left his friars in the big room with Spirit.

  'Good to see you back, Sir Gorrow,' Armand says.

  'Pity you died,' Bernard guffaws.

  'Didn't see you offering to help.'

  He looks hurt. 'I would have helped. I was down in the mine, like you told me.'

  'Don't worry. I was only messing with you.' I compose myself. 'We're here to talk about this project. It's not my project, it's our project. And I don't make any differences between NPCs and players, AIs or human. We're all equal down here.'

  The NPCs glance at each other furtively. They're normally pretty much second class citizens in Camelot.

  I continue. 'As you know, there are two parts to this place. The true one, which is our settlement and must remain secret, and the dungeon which is our front — our cover for anyone who sees movement or signs of life coming from underground. The dungeon will also be a way of us making money.'

  They nod.

  I say, 'We will create the settlement of Silver Drift Mine underground. When we get a population of over a hundred, we'll be able to call it a village and get a village milestone. Then we can bind here. Those of us who are players anyway.'

  'I want the workings of the village to go on unnoticed. And I want to build an army down here. We've still got the remains of the two regiments we salvaged from Camelot, do we Armand?'

  'The light archers and the yeomen halberdiers. They're in the barracks. There's only a handful each.'

  'I know. But don't forget. That's our purpose. Level the village, build an army and while we're building, we arise and raid enemy settlements and supply trains, until the king returns.'

  There's a muttered chorus of 'Until the King Returns.'

  '
How much beer did you salvage from the brewery before it burned down?' I ask Jason.

  Jason frowns. 'Two days, maybe.'

  I look to Oliver. 'And Thorvald reckoned three maybe four days before we dig our way out?'

  Bernard says, 'He said that, yes.'

  I stare at the ceiling. 'That's not going to work then, is it?' I think of berating Bernard and Oliver for wasting time building the dungeon before our future was assured, but what's the point? He didn't mean any harm, he even thought I'd be pleased.

  A silence hangs over the room.

  Jason volunteers, 'We would have less if...'

  'If what?' But I know what he's going to say — if we hadn't lost so many of our militia and farmers during the burning of Silver Drift. He doesn't need to finish his sentence.

  I need to think. There must be a way through this. I can't bear to see the miners weaken and die before we have any way of brewing more beer.

  'Do we have any barley and hops?' We have plenty of water down here. Maybe we can get the brewery going and brew more with what we have. Even if we have to divert the miners for a day to clear out a space for the brewery, it might be worth it if we can make beer.

  But my hope is quickly quashed by Jason's furrowed brow. He shrugs. 'We didn't manage to save any. I tried.'

  There has to be a solution. I just haven't thought of it yet.

  I rub my face with my hand. 'Okay, let's move on to the dungeon. We have a few rooms. We even have a trap.'

  Peter the Silent smiles. He's kind of creepy to be honest.

  'But we have no mobs.'

  Oliver says, 'Before you place mobs, you need to turn the type into dungeon.'

  I knew that. No time like the present. I guess it's all up there on the game tabs on my HUD.

  I look up and find the construction tab. There are different kinds of settlements. I call up a map of Silver Drift mine and the schematic appears glowing in the air. Only Bernard and Fitheach can see it because they're players.

  I see that the settlement of Silver Drift Mine is only connected at one point with the few tunnels that make up the dungeon. That's the door that we just walked through and that will be reinforced and only I'll have the key.