Dungeon Lord: Abominable Creatures (The Wraith's Haunt Book 3)

by Hugo Huesca

  Inhumane, Gallio thought. It makes sense.

  How could a mere mortal like him hope to stand against Evil when mercy itself was Murmur’s tool? Only the Light’s cold justice could hope to stand against such an abominable being.

  And now Gallio could only but wonder, as he and Alvedhra neared the dark alley where the kaftar had disappeared into, if he’d once again been tricked by the Dark. If, by saving a few lives, he’d condemned thousands more.

  According to Alvedhra, the kaftar were excellent trackers in their own right, but all their training focused on monsters and beasts. They had little experience with the trappings of men, and even less experience maneuvering through a city such as Undercity. To their noses, the smell of fifty thousand inhabitants of Undercity must’ve been as overwhelming as the constant flash of thunders in a pitch-black night.

  And she was right. The two kaftar only saw the Inquisitors’ approach when it was already too late. They froze for an entire second, their ears rigid like a surprised dog’s, their mouths open and their tongues partially hanging out.

  The two hooded humans they were meeting with, however, reacted instantly. Right as Gallio was saying, “Stop, in the name of—” they were already drawing their daggers and readying themselves to lunge. Alvedhra aimed an icebolt rune while screaming at them to drop their weapons, but before she could fire, one of the humans grabbed something from one of the many pockets of his belt and snapped his fingers. There was a spark as he threw a small pellet to the floor, and then a cloud of thick smoke engulfed the alley.

  “Don’t kill them!” Gallio reminded Alvedhra, while drawing his own dagger and entering a defensive stance. He tried to peer through the smoke, but it was no use. His eyes watered, and he had to blink furiously to clear his vision.

  Somewhere in front of him, Cleric Zeki screamed, “Stormwind!” and a violent air current slapped Gallio’s cheeks while trying to throw him to the ground. Only his swordsman’s balance steadied him, and the fact that Zeki knew he and Alvedhra were in the spell’s line of fire. He caught Alvedhra’s flailing arm, then pushed forward as the smoke dissipated in seconds, flushed out of the alley as fast as a sailor’s wages in a whorehouse.

  Two seconds had passed since the Inquisitors entered the alley from both sides. The kaftar were still too stunned to react—they’d drawn their scimitars, of course, but that would help them precious little. The cloaked humans, though, were gone.

  How? Gallio stole a glance upward, at the rooftops of the dilapidated buildings walling the alley. They’d made no sound as they climbed, and their speed implied they carried special gear with them, maybe even enchanted. “Thieves Guild,” he said, putting two and two together. “Oh. Dunghill.”

  “Wright’s infestation runs deeper than we thought,” Alvedhra said, half-growling.

  The kaftar stood back to back, each one facing one end of the alleyway.

  “That’s a bad idea,” Gallio warned them. “Haven’t you realized what you’re up against? Look at my character sheet.”

  “I don’t see how we have many options left. We may as well give it a shot,” one of the Haga’Anashi said, his voice surprisingly calm, given the circumstances. Gallio had to give it to them, the Monster Hunters had poise.

  The wind buffeted the alley, making the kaftars’ pelt sway in all directions. Zeki and Hector closed in from their end, and Alvedhra did the same. Gallio remained where he stood.

  There would be no fight. The Inquisition couldn’t afford to fight fairly when dealing with Dungeon Lords.

  The wind became angry, and a sort of pressure pushed against Gallio’s ears. The kaftar noticed it then, the shadow masking the moon, rapidly growing. An eagle shrieked, very close and growing even closer.

  Someone screamed in surprise as a winged beast with the body of a lion landed gracefully atop the rooftop of the nearest building with such violence that it sent slivers of clay flying in all directions like shrapnel. Its beak was curved, designed to dig deep and tear the meat out of its prey, and its golden eyes surrounded by white feathers were focused on the kaftar below. A man in full Inquisitorial garb was riding the lion’s back.

  “So,” said Inquisitor Oak, glowing sword in one hand and the reins in the other, “do you still feel like giving it a shot?”

  23

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Dungeon Upgrades

  Setting up the fake dungeon had strained the Haunt’s coffers even with Korghiran’s line of credit. It had earned Ed no tangible benefit—no loot or new talent choices—but it had provided him a marginal amount of experience points, which was a welcome surprise. Apparently, defending and losing a dungeon was enough, according to Objectivity, to increase the dungeon owner’s experience.

  Ed stepped away from the table in the War Room, which was strewn with Lavy’s new spellbooks, and faced his friends. “I guess it’s finally time to buy dungeon vision. It’s simply going to be too useful at defending the Haunt for me to pass up.”

  Lavy and Kes exchanged weary glances. “So, it looks like there’s no dissuading you. Would you mind waiting until I come back before buying it, though?” Lavy asked. With a sigh, she stepped up and headed out the door.

  “Wait, where are you going?” Alder asked.

  “To take one last bath without wondering if someone’s looking over my shoulder,” the Witch replied, then left.

  Kes trimmed her fingernails with a dagger while Alder chuckled to himself.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Ed muttered, rolling his eyes.

  “Actually,” Kes said, dropping the dagger on the table and standing up. “I’ll be right back as well.” She left without saying anything else.

  “Women, am I right?” Alder asked, munching on a piece of cheese. He smiled innocently at Ed. “Always so distrustful.”

  “It’s all right, Alder, you can go,” Ed told the Bard.

  “Oh, thank Murmur,” Alder said as he jumped up and hurried out the door. “Sorry, Ed!”

  Ed shook his head and sighed. Then he realized he wasn’t alone in the room. “How about you, Klek?” he asked the Spider Rider.

  Klek looked at him with big, round, confused eyes. “I don’t understand what the big deal is,” he said. “Baths! The water is cold and makes my fur feel weird. Soap stings my eyes. Why would you want to peep on baths?”

  The Dungeon Lord eased himself back into his chair and considered this. “No idea, buddy. People are weird, is all.”

  Klek reached for a small bowl filled with insects and fruit and plopped on a chair next to Ed. “They are. They really are,” the batblin said, deep in thought.

  About two hours later, the Dungeon Lord and the Spider Rider reunited with their freshened-up friends. “All right, let’s get it over with,” Lavy said, sighing in defeat.

  Ed shot her a small smile and activated his Evil Eye. A few seconds later, he bought the dungeon vision talent using his stored points along with the ones he’d gotten from losing the test dungeon.

  Instantly, he felt the tiny change in his body, like a small twinkle rolling alongside his veins. It was as if he could feel his magical ley lines increasing in complexity. Along with the talent came the instinctual knowledge of how to activate it, which he did while standing up. This proved to be a mistake.

  As soon as he activated the dungeon vision, a flurry of overwhelming sensations reached him through his Evil Eye. It was as if his eyeballs had suddenly flown out toward the ceiling in a second while still remaining attached to his skull. Suddenly, he could see the War Room from a top-down perspective—all the papers over the table, his friends’ confused stances, their heads aimed his way, and his own body clutching the table as if he was a sailor holding onto a ship’s railing for dear life in the middle of a storm.

  He was still aware of his own body and could move normally—it only was his vision that had shifted. As a reflex, he tried to stand and gather his bearings. Instead of the view adjusting with his movement, it remained in the same position
. Vertigo rushed in, and he fell to the floor face first, scrambling confusedly like a blind man while at the same time watching himself do it.

  “So that went well,” Kes said, helping him up.

  Ed rubbed a sore spot on his knee as he deactivated the vision and everything returned to normal. “I wasn’t ready,” he said. “It’s one hell of an experience.”

  “So that’s why Lord Kael always sat down in his Seat before using it for a while,” Lavy said. “I always wondered about that. Changing how your own senses work isn’t so easy after all, right?” There was a hint of hope there, as if she were hoping dungeon vision wouldn’t become part of Ed’s repertoire of frequent talents after all.

  Ed shrugged and gave her a guilty grin. “Actually… it was quite a familiar sensation. It’s hard to explain. But it’s not the first time I’ve seen this talent. On the contrary, it’s like meeting an old friend.”

  He activated the talent again, but this time he was ready for it. He watched himself from his vantage point. Carefully, he stood up, easing his body into the different situation.

  “How could you already be familiar with it?” Alder asked. “You said that Earth lacks any magic.”

  “Through a computer screen,” Ed explained. “Dungeon vision feels almost exactly like an isometric camera view. That means from the top down at a slight angle. Hell, I wonder if I can move it around—ah, there!” It wasn’t hard to visualize the controls shifting the imaginary camera around, and that was exactly how Ed thought of the talent—like a videogame’s camera. Once he was able to finish the comparison, he quickly became used to it, and it stuck in his mind.

  The camera brought him away from the room, bypassing wall and ceiling as if they weren’t there. Outside, by the Kitchens, the Janitor batblins fought a small war against a baby acid ooze that had escaped from Kaga’s breeding facilities underground. So far, the Janitors had managed to keep the acid of the ooze in check by covering it in flour, much to the cooks’ chagrin. Then the Janitors chased the monster around, trying to catch it with a cast-iron pot. The problem was, the smaller the ooze, the faster it could move, and although most oozes were barely smart enough to feed themselves, this one had instinct enough to move away from the screeching batblins that kept throwing handfuls of flour its way. As the Janitors ran after it, they passed by a halfling wearing a tattered tunic, an individual that Ed had never seen around before. He was clutching his head and looking around, looking as if he had no idea where the hell he was. He seemed extremely hungover.

  “Everything is business as usual in the Kitchens," Ed announced, back in the War Room.

  He went down several levels. Jarlen’s coffin was in the middle of her crypt, closed, with the vampire sleeping inside until the day cleared. On a whim, Ed tried to look inside, but the camera couldn’t get pass the wooden lid. That meant there was a limit to the camera’s knowledge.

  It’s probably for the best, he thought.

  “What are you looking at now?” Lavy asked him.

  “I’m just looking around your room,” Ed lied. “It really needs some tidying up, you know.”

  Someone smacked him hard on the shoulder. Ed chuckled and ended the talent.

  “Defending the Haunt will be much easier if I learn to master this ability,” Ed said. “Not bad for a couple dozen experience points.”

  “It isn’t supposed to be a powerful upgrade,” Lavy said, pouting and crossing her arms. “I don’t think you should overuse it. Kael—no, any Dungeon Lord I know of—just sat on their Seats, brooded a bit, and made sure their minions weren’t messing anything up in their dungeon. Unless the place was under attack, of course.”

  So that’s how most Bosses in Ivalis Online always knew where we were at all times, Ed thought. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I’ll exploit any advantage I can get over the other Dungeon Lords. Murmur knows I’ll need it.” Especially if, a year from now, he was to face them in Tillman’s Endeavor, a prospect he was still mulling over.

  In the meantime, it was best to start practicing. “Kes?” he asked. “Would you mind designing a special training regimen for me? I’ll try to spar while using the top-down view.”

  Kes raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure, Ed? A minute ago, you couldn’t stand while using it.”

  “I’m pretty sure, yes. Do your worst.”

  A mischievous smile drew across the Marshal’s lips. “Ah, my favorite words. Well, if you’re sure… come with me, Lord Wraith. Let’s test out your new toy.”

  Ed’s good spirits faltered a bit. Kes had looked very enthusiastic as she left the room. I mean, I did ask her… he thought. But the way she whistled to herself gave him goosebumps.

  “Now you’ve done it,” Alder whispered. “Let’s go, Lavy. We can’t miss this. I’ll need to witness it so I can accurately reproduce it in the Haunt Chronicles.”

  “That’s one hell of a good idea, my dear Bard,” Lavy said.

  Ed’s lips twitched a bit. “Fantastic.” Not only did his friends get to see him make an ass of himself, future generations probably would, too.

  A day later, the Dungeon Lord walked down the corridors and passageways of the Haunt, the cold underground air mixing with the warmth coming from walls and floor alike and becoming a pleasant breeze against his cheeks. He pulled up the neck of his tunic and patted his wild black hair away from his eyes as he swayed his way like a drunk man through a spinning corridor.

  Kes’ training had been rough. Although he had nearly a lifetime of gaming experience with the top-down view, it was another thing entirely to have his own body-and all his other senses—react to his input directly, instead of a character through a keyboard or controller like he was used to. But he was making progress, and to speed things up, he was using the dungeon vision to keep watch on himself at all times.

  He’d only stumbled against the walls twice in the last hour.

  Almost without making a conscious effort to do so, he moved the “camera” away from himself and down the rest of the corridor until he could see his destination. Heorghe had finished his work at the forge and was in the middle of guiding his batblin assistants to clean their workplace and ready things up for tomorrow. Near a corner, his younger daughter played with a small, hairy puppy that yipped silently at her.

  Ed changed his viewpoint to hover right above himself and reached the forge after a few steps.

  “Lord Wright. I was wondering when you’d stop by and visit,” called Heorghe as soon as the blacksmith saw him. The batblins stopped working and glanced at them, doing their best to pretend not to eavesdrop. “Shame about what happened with your new dungeon. I heard all about it. A fine attempt, though.”

  “It did what it was supposed to do,” Ed said. He ended his dungeon vision effect, since it was getting awkward, but the dizzying change of point-of-view almost made him trip on his own feet. He recovered at the last second and pretended as if nothing had happened. “But thanks for the sympathy. In fact, that’s why I’m here.”

  Heorghe looked slightly disappointed. “So, not because of the mine-carts. Too bad. I wanted to show you our new brake system.”

  “Later, my friend. Work comes before fun.”

  “I guess it does. How can my forge best serve you, Ed?” Heorghe asked, drawing near. “Can I interest you, perhaps, in a new set of eyeglasses? Word is, people have seen you stumble around like a blind batblin all over the Training Center.”

  “Real funny, Heorghe.”

  The two walked together, away from the prying ears of the batblins, while the broad-shouldered Forgemaster laughed under his breath.

  “So?” he asked as they reached a secluded corner of the forge.

  Ed handed him his sword. “Have you ever gone to the Netherworld?”

  The man cocked his head. “Are you telling me to go to Hell, Ed?”

  “Well… yes. But it’s for work,” Ed explained. “Think of it as a business trip. I need you to enchant my gear. Sword and armor, to start. Also, I need you to look into
finding a cheap way to mass produce enchantments for our armory.”

  “The second part is easier said than done,” Heorghe said. “If you make it into a quest, I’ll see what I can do, but it’s going to take time. Your gear, on the other hand, that I can do quickly enough. What type of effect are you wanting for your sword?” He hefted Ed’s blade around, testing its balance and weight. “Perhaps a vorpal enchantment, so your enemies lose their heads when they fight you? The problem is, that kind of magic is out of our budget. We could do ice, thunder, fire… you know, the basics. Or do you want something a bit fancier?”

  Ed shook his head. “Actually, I need a specific kind of enchantment. Make that sword into an anti-magic weapon.”

  The smith looked bewildered. “Anti-magic? Are you sure, Ed? Swords are not the usual choice for an anti-magic field. I don’t think there’s enough space for the runes and the magical circle, and in any case, it’d be even more expensive than the vorpal enchantment.” Heorghe tapped the sword’s blade, as if to highlight his argument. “Besides, you’re a magic-user as well. An anti-magic field would do more damage than good to you.”

  “That’s not what I had in mind,” Ed said. “I don’t need the sword to project a field—I only need it to disable the enchantment of anything it pierces or cuts, if that makes any sense. It should be easier to make than an entire anti-magic field, right?”

  Heorghe scratched his beard. “Yes. In theory. It’s still a strange petition, but you seem to have something in mind for it. In any case, as the Forgemaster, it’s my duty to make sure you realize that running someone through with your sword usually makes disabling their enchantments redundant, right?”

  Ed smiled. “Most of the time. But yes, I do have something in mind.” Something insanely dangerous that might end up with him eating a couple fireballs at point blank range, or worse. But it was better than not having a plan at all.

  “Then I’ll do as you say, Ed. I trust your judgment,” Heorghe said. “What about your armor? Some strange request for it as well? Perhaps I can enchant it to break down at the first sign of danger, to keep your enemies confused.”