Mini-Interlude 01 - Karthinos

Lethis gave a growl as another pulsing line of runes winked out.

Another has fallen, then, Karthinos thought from across the room, as an image briefly came into view. He caught a glimpse of a young man and two equally young women standing over a corpse. One of the women’s auras was fading from green to black, while the other two were highlighted in a pale blue.

With a snarl, a chunk of black crystal materialized in Lethis’ clawed hand and she hurled it angrily at the image, where it shattered harmlessly against the large runic array that was tracking the status of her bounty hunters.

Far, far too many names were blackened and dark, while only a mere handful flowed with a yellow light, indicating they were on their way, captives in tow. Two were green, indicating current pursuit, and a few had turned red, indicating the target had been eliminated. Those were better than black, but not as optimal as yellow. The rest were still a pale blue, indicating they had not yet encountered their targets.

Silently Lethis sat on her throne, flexing her wings in irritation as she raged inwardly at the Voice and the incompetent beings she had been forced to hire, as the ever-stoic Karthinos stood at the far end of the room, awaiting his next orders.

“Enough of this!” She said, standing suddenly. “Clearly we have erred in our judgement of the ones who answered our call. It would seem my minor gifts were not enough. Would that I’d had the time to do more than offer bribes of hastily-prepared cores and dusty relics to the miserable scum who turned up at a moment’s mention of easy power, but we were pressed for time.”

Lethis scowled. “Unfortunately, a great many champions have proven far more capable than I’d anticipated.”

“Furthermore,” she continued, stepping down from her throne, “aside from the old priest we were forced to make an example of, not a one of them seem to strongly adhere to any faith, so I can’t use that to easily manipulate them, and somehow they’re all familiar with the Voice. Or something like it, anyway. Enough to know what it means and how to use it. None of this is as I expected. Clearly, something has changed back on dear old Earth.“

Lethis beckoned to Karthinos as she strode out of her chapel. He turned to follow.

“It is time we take matters into our own hands. Kaleb seems eager enough to prove himself. Let us give him a test, and send him after that young woman who ended up in the midst of that order of [Monks] in the eastern mountains of Derun. If they divine her true nature and she accidentally unlocks [Chosen One], or worse, they teach her the secrets of becoming a [Hero], I will be forced to intervene personally before she becomes too large a threat, and it is far too soon to show my hand. The Shining Legions would be at my doorstep within a fortnight if they got wind of my return, for surely at least they remember me. And we are not ready for that fight. Not yet.”

“What of the others, Mistress?” murmured Karthinos, as they moved through the halls. Occasionally, they passed by a gloomling standing over a handful of humanoid slaves, working away at building furniture or digging new passageways. Karthinos gave them barely a glance, for he had seen to it personally that all semblance of will had been beaten out of them.

“Are we to send the other champions out as well?” he asked.

“Not yet. While three outworlders coming together is cause for great concern, they currently seem to be just barely managing to struggle along with whatever strange classes they’ve ended up with; I’m not even sure what the male is. A larger threat would be that young man hiding in the heart of Teravia. If the Legions discover an outworlder in the midst of their capital, they will start to connect the dots, and they definitely will try to use him against me. But I cannot send one of our new champions after him there, not even Marilith. She has a great deal more training to proceed with before she is ready to take on such a monumental task as infiltrating the heart of the Shining Legions.”

“At least the champion there has had the good sense to hide himself away from them. I suspect this trend among the outworlders of being suspicious of gods has something to do with it, but it provides a boon to us in that he is actively avoiding our enemies for now. My hunter there has reported that his difficulties in tracking the boy have stemmed from his target taking both [Thief] and [Sorcerer] levels, so perhaps instead he can be turned with the right... enticement, provided he does not get himself caught first.”

“As for the others,” Lethis continued, as the they came into one of the newer chambers, a great underground bowl with seating along all sides, “They are not ready. However, Kaleb‘s [Hellknight] and [Commander] classes give him the advantage of numbers, and he has the drive and temperament I need in a Champion. He has already surpassed the others greatly.”

Lethis gestured down into the arena, where a lone human in full armor fought a towering, goat-like beast alongside several minions.

Kaleb stood, barbed blade in hand, directing several smaller rat monsters to swarm the goat-creature. His armor was pitch black, and streaked with the reddish light of runic script. It was made of a metal that Karthinos was now familiar with: shadowsteel, the same material his own armor was made from. The polar opposite of mithril, which shone with the light of the stars, shadowsteel was born from the depths of the earth, and readily accepted enchantments of ice and illusion, as well as other, darker magics.

The young man demonstrated one such magic now. He activated a rune on his left gauntlet, which seared itself into the back of his hand, causing blood to drip from his fingers. He raised his injured hand and gestured. Blood flowed from his hand and into the air, condensing into the form of a small, winged humanoid covered in scales and possessing a long, barbed tail.

Karthinos knew it was not a true living thing. Colloquially known as ‘Imps’, the creatures harassing the boy’s foe were merely an extension of his will: mana and blood given temporary physical form. He summoned minions of his own design, powered them with his own lifeforce, and then used his [Commander] skills to turn them into a fearfully competent force that acted in unison.

It was a potent combination, and one of the boy’s own choosing. He had been the first to swear fealty to the Dark Lady, and had needed little encouragement as well. Karthinos often wondered were the boy got the ideas for his creations; typically, creating homunculi out of thin air required a complex, highly detailed mental image of exactly one what one wanted, but the boy seemed to have a never-ending stream of new creations for every purpose. When asked, he’d told Karthinos that he’d been a ‘Dungeon Master’, which Karthinos assumed meant he had been some kind of Keeper in his own world. No wonder he'd taken to serving Lady Lethis so quickly; Rewarding the boy with new cores should he prove himself worthy of one was a simple matter for such an existence as the Dark Lady.

Karthinos watched the new minion fly up and clamp down onto the beast’s head, using its stinger to pierce the creature’s eye. Briefly he wondered if Kaleb would prove himself greatest of his Mistress’ champions. Marilith had her own talents, but the boy was clearly suited for command, and Lady Lethis had already informed him that with the right classes, he could grant his creations a permanent existence, then awaken them into true sapience; He could theoretically build his own, personally crafted cadre of elite warriors.

It would take a great deal of resources they did not yet possess, but the boy had seemed excited by the prospect.

The goat-beast flailed as its other eye was blinded by the imp. It smashed its head against the ground in a mad attempt to dislodge the creature, but the imp simply scampered up onto its back, where it hung onto its fur and began stinging repeatedly with its tail. Meanwhile, Kaleb’s other minions, shaped like huge red rodents with fiery eyes, tore into the creature’s sides. Several were crushed out of existence by the monster’s thrashing, but it was enough. Kaleb stepped forward, taking an opening to run his sword across the goat-thing’s throat, and blood flowed as it died.

Lethis gave a small, slow clap as she descended into the arena, hips swaying sensuously. Kaleb turned, and bowed low before her. He removed his helm as he did, revealing fair skin and long blond hair that spilled downwards in a ponytail. His blue eyes briefly shone with lust as he eyed Lethis up and down, and Karthinos nearly drew his spear, but the boy repressed his gaze. Karthinos forced himself to relax, reminding himself that his Lady had chosen her form personally for a reason, and did not consider such things to be disrespectful. She encouraged them, even, regardless of whether or not the person had actually done something to earn her... favors. She thought of it as a way of winnowing out which ones knew their place, and which ones needed to be taught respect.

Kaleb toed the the line rather closely, Karthinos thought. Among his own, prior species, such open disrespect could go one of two ways, and one of those would have ended with Kaleb buried alive inside a box filled with venomous spiders, provided the female in question could overpower him.

Still, the boy seemed loyal enough. He’d never tried to defy Lady Lethis in any way, and had even butchered that old priest in front the others, with little more than a moment’s hesitation when the she had commanded him to do so as a means of unlocking his class.

“Kaleb, my dear,” Lethis began, “I see your training is progressing well.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” he said with another small bow. “I have almost reached level 15 [Hellknight], now, as well as level 7 [Commander].

Karthinos saw Lethis lean back slightly, tapping one claw against her lips, as she often did when in thought. “We shall have to see if we can’t get you an evolution of your second class. There are better ones, more specialized.”

“Classes can evolve into new forms?” the boy asked as he straightened, surprise written across his face.

“With the right encouragement,” Lethis replied simply.

“For now, however, I have a task for you....”

Mini-Interlude 02 - Dungeons 101

Aurion lounged against the podium as the last of the new recruits trickled in to his classroom. This group was mostly human, as usual, but a smattering of other races were scattered throughout the room. Several of the closer recruits who were paying more attention ducked as he rapped his wand hard against the side of the podium, as if they expected it to go off, but Aurion was too experienced a [Wizard] to allow that to happen.

“Listen up!” he instructed. “I realize all of you are new and raring at the bit to actually do something interesting, but I would like to remind you that dungeons are not to be underestimated. Those of you who’ve made it this far should understand by now that the other Guilds are not just blowing steam when they go on about how dungeons are a dangerous blight on the world, when they try and get our Guild outlawed. There is a grain of truth, if a shortsighted one, to their concerns.”

“To that end, every last one of you who wants induction into the guild must pass an academic course on the nature of dungeons. You will be tested on even the most minute of details, because forgetting them can mean your death, which means another chance for a dungeon to grow out of control. Do I make myself clear?”

There was some half hearted grumbling at the mention of tests, and Aurion rolled his eyes internally; students were always the same. Even when they were seasoned adventurers.

“Now. Who can tell me the purpose of the Black Thorns?”

Aurion pointed to a young lady in the back row who seemed more interested in making eyes at the person next to her. “You. Answer.”

Caught off guard, she stammered an answer. “Uh, t-that is, we’re a guild that focuses on the growth of, and research into, dungeons, in order to tame them for humanity’s benefit.”

“Wrong.” Aurion said firmly. “On two counts. First, you are not a member yet, kindly do not refer to yourself as such. More importantly, the idea that we research dungeons because we want to tame them is a rumor bandied about by those who would see us outlawed.

“The Black Thorns do not wish to tame dungeons,” he continued. “That is an impossibility. Dungeons must kill in order to grow, and if they cannot grow they wither and they die as they run out of resources. Simply feeding them livestock at a slow, steady rate to control intake does not work, because then they will grow anyway, and the more they grow the faster they need to consume life before they begin to wither, until we’d all starve to death trying to keep the thing fed, to say nothing of the lives lost to whatever horrors it began spawning once it reached critical size."

Aurion began to pace to either side of his podium.

“No, the Black Thorns wish to understand dungeons so that they can be killed more efficiently, with the least loss of life, and to exploit them under controlled conditions for the world’s benefit. We are not under the illusion that they can be tamed, or made safe in any way.

“Why can’t we simply dig down to their cores directly? Why do they consume pure mana at a furious pace and yet the land around them teems with concentrated, unusual aspects of the stuff? What limits or guides their constant growth? What is the exact relationship they have with their non-manaspawn inhabitants?

“These are all important questions when it comes to defeating them. You’ll encounter a great many questions we have no answers for in this course, alongside a great many we do.”

Aurion paused in his pacing, pointing his wand towards the blackboard, where ‘Dungeon Myths’ appeared, written in chalk. He smirked inwardly as a many students' eyes grew wide. There were always one or two who weren’t fooled, but most were impressed with his apparent ‘skill’ at materializing chalk in a legible pattern using nothing but a single gesture. In reality, he’d written down everything he needed the night before, in real chalk, and then simply covered individual sections in illusions just before class. Then he could dismiss the concealment spells piece by piece, ‘writing’ on the board.

Eventually, they’d all learn that a dungeon could pull far craftier tricks than that.

“Now, who can tell me one of the common beliefs about dungeons, and why or how it is wrong.”

A young man raised his hand. Aurion gestured to him to speak up.

“Uh, a lot of people think dungeons can’t make things while people are inside,” he said. “I remember reading somewhere that’s not the case, but I don’t remember why.”

“Correct,” Aurion said. “Dungeons are capable of spawning new monsters while adversaries are present. What good would the ability to spawn defenders from nowhere be if you can’t do it when you need them the most?”

Aurion clasped his hands behind him. “That said, dungeons rarely do so, hence the myth. A few do learn the trick of simply shifting its denizens instantly from one place to another within themselves, because it is effective and costs them almost nothing, but generally dungeons do not spawn new creations while they’re under attack, unless it is by a vastly superior force. Can anyone tell me why? Yes, you.”

A young woman in the front row answered, lowering her hand. “They are constantly spending mana on improving their rooms or creatures, or they’re saving it up for big expansions, like additional floors and new chambers. Also, new monsters are expensive, while old ones will just respawn for a pittance of mana some time after being killed, so it’s better for them to hold off until they’re really in danger.”

“At least one of you has been reading ahead,” Aurion replied with a satisfied nod. “Keep up the good work.”

“Miss Starshine is correct," he continued. "Generally, dungeons are in a state of either actively spending mana, so they have none to spare, or they are hoarding it for a major growth spurt, meaning they do not wish to do so.”

He returned to his podium once more. “Who can tell me why this is important? Yes, you.”

A younger half-elven boy, his pale blue skin betraying his snow elf ancestry, spoke up. “Because if a dungeon has been hoarding mana, and you threaten its core, it will spend all of it at once trying to kill you.”

Aurion nodded once more. “Excellent answer, Mister Barrings. Indeed, perhaps the most dangerous thing you can do is attempt to harm a core when it has stored up a great deal; Dungeons do not merely grow new rooms and spawn monsters. [Dig] is cheap spell for a dungeon, one of almost negligible cost beyond that of mere time. But dungeons are also capable of much greater works of spellcraft, as well as the creation of cunning traps. One of the most useful offensive spells in the world for one on one combat is the simple spell known as [Create Pit]. You do not want a dungeon casting it at you while you are distracted by a mere goblin, and then forced to helplessly watch as it fills the pit, with you in it, with an Acidic Slimebeast, now would you?”

That drew a few chuckles.

“Are there any other myths that you can think of?” he asked.

Another hand was raised.

“Go ahead,” he said.

“All dungeons have bosses.” came the reply.

“And how is that false?” asked Aurion from the podium.

“They... don’t always?”

Aurion sighed. There was always at least one joker.

“Correct, if incomplete,” he said. “In point of fact, ‘Boss’ is a special designation by the Voice to indicate creatures of exceptional size and strength created by the dungeon for the express purpose of killing those who enter it. However, the youngest of dungeons rarely, if ever, have them because they are expensive to create and it is more efficient to defend themselves through other methods, such as traps, during their early stages. Can someone name the most significant of those methods?”

“Keepers,” a young man with tanned skin said sourly without raising his hand. Dark blue scales covered a portion of the sides of his neck, stretching down his shoulders and underneath his shirt. Similar scales could be seen on his forearms, and his blue eyes held slight purple pinpoints that glowed.

“Indeed.” Aurion said. This one bore careful watching, for the very reason he knew the answer to Aurion’s question. Veran’s father had been caught red-handed creating several cores all at one time, after the success he’d had with the first one he’d planted. The young man’s scales weren’t the result of an unusual heritage, but rather... well, the less said about the ways dungeons could twist things that chose to live within them the better. Needless to say, the experience had left some deep seated emotional wounds on the boy. The Guild nearly had rejected his application outright for fear of him making his own Pact with one of their carefully monitored training dungeons, but other minds had prevailed, pointing out that the Guild did not reject people on the basis of class or species, only talent or action, and the boy should not be held accountable for his father's actions.

“Would you care to elaborate, Mr Veran?” Aurion asked.

“Keepers are... typically powerful individuals," he said, "most often the creator of the dungeon, who form a formal contract with dungeon through arcane means. This bond allows the Keeper to siphon off a portion of the dungeon’s mana in the form of XP, physical mutations to their stats, extra skill ranks, and can even sometimes lead to the formation of unique skills and classes. Some Keepers even eventually become Bosses in their own right. In exchange, the dungeon receives a powerful protector that is capable of leaving the dungeon to procure extra... food.. for the dungeon that it would otherwise be too weak to obtain on its own via the lesser minions it has access to, without the need to overinvest.”

“Anything else?”

“Um. Keepers can exert a huge amount of influence over a dungeon, but contrary to popular belief they don’t actually control them. Dungeons can have both Keepers and Bosses, but can have neither, and Keepers don’t have to be intelligent individuals. Sometimes they’re just monsters who wandered in and found the environment to their liking. Usually that’s what happens with natural dungeons, which is why we know they don’t always have bosses; people just confuse Keepers for Bosses a lot.”

“Very good,” said Aurion. “Since it was brought up, can anyone tell me what the difference between a natural and a man-made dungeon is? Someone else please. Yes, Miss Starshine.”

“Natural dungeons form on their own from just the right confluence of factors,” the girl began, “not the least of which is a high concentration of particularly evil forms of magic.”

“A bit pedantic,” Aurion replied, “because mana is neither inherently good nor evil, but you are ultimately correct. Continue.”

“A man-made dungeon on the other hand is formed through the use of ritual sacrifice, an evil practice” she emphasized with a glare, “by which a spellcaster tears the mana out of the victim’s body and siphons most of it off into a receptacle that further rituals are applied to in order to create a [Dungeon Seed], which can then be planted and.. fed.. to create a [Dungeon Core].”

“And?”

“Uh, that’s it?”

“Not quite, Miss Starshine. Correct again, but also incomplete. Not all man-made dungeons are created that way. Even we do not condone those methods here, after all.”

“Oh. Right. Um. I guess that counts as man-made,” she said. “The other means of making a man-made dungeon is to acquire the core of a dungeon that has been slain, and pump massive amounts of mana into it in order to spawn a new one out of the old core. Any kind of mana will do. That’s how the Black Thorns make their living. We, I mean you, buy up dead cores for huge sums, and then regrow them way away from everyone else, where you can study them and there’s no risk of them absorbing entire towns, and then you charge adventurers fees to come and try their luck before you kill off the dungeon again, before it gets big enough to start spawning raiding parties.”

“An excelent summary, quite correct,” Aurion said with a satisfied nod.

“Now, can anyone tell me what happens when a dungeon claims a portion of the surface beyond its entrance...?”