Artistic Artifice

Chapter 35

With my mind made up, I spent my available mana on interior tiles. I didn’t have a specific plan yet for the lower layers, but the top three in the relatively safe zone were easy enough to adlib. I placed the majority of them roughly in place before turning my attention to the bottom layer.

I was holding off on buying lava tiles, but I added five normal terrain tiles to expand the hounds’ area. I wanted to give them more area to run around in close to the pool. They hadn’t complained, but they were being subsidized on my mana to compensate for the temperature. The dungeon had to be freezing for them.

With that done, I started shuffling tiles around until I had some interesting arrangements for the second and third layer of the blue stack. They were a bit undersized, but I’d remedy that closer to refresh with any luck.

The entry layer though, didn’t need any extra tiles. It wasn’t glamorous but it was perilous just by virtue of its size and complexity. It wouldn’t seriously impede an adventurer but a normal person who wandered inside would be in trouble quickly.

That in and of itself had a certain amount of psychological weight to it. A boring kind of tension that was integral to a good horror movie over the simple splatter gore of a slasher. With great care, I removed the traps I’d set up already.

It left an uncomfortable feeling between my shoulder blades, but I ignored it. I’d be putting a lot back, but it was easier to take them out instead of worry about moving them about while I worked. The next step was to simplify the layout.

Not enough to make it completely safe of course. Just enough that it would only take a few signs or a decent memory to get around without much potential for ending up hopelessly lost. It was a difficult balance to pull off.

“Mistress!” Blackmoor called from the door to my chamber of machinations. I waved her in and Stalin followed on her heels, his posture oddly reticent. Like he didn’t want to be here for some reason.

“Mistress! We want to sleep,” Blackmoor whined at me with big fiery eyes.

“We are fine as we are,” Stalin growled at her, trying and failing not to be heard.

“You have my permission to sleep whenever you like. Or did you want a house or something?” I asked.

“Yeah! A cave for snuggles!” Blackmoor said, yapping happily. Stalin looked sullen at her happiness but his tail was wagging if one were paying attention. It seemed like he didn’t enjoy asking for things. I felt a surge of annoyance at that, wondering if he’d been treated badly by his former dungeon masters.

“One snuggle cave, coming up,” I said instead of asking. They were tired and this was a conversation that could wait. If he wanted to talk about it at all. I didn’t know a lot about psychology, but trauma was a tricky thing to deal with and it could be bad to push someone who wasn’t ready. If that was even it. He might just be proud.

Picking a spot with some cover from stone formations I pressed in a little cave of sorts. If I were dealing with different creatures I’d have put some soft bedding down too but there wasn’t anything soft in my inventory that wouldn’t end up burninated.

“Let me know if you want any changes made. They don’t cost me anything,” I offered.

“A smaller entrance!” Blackmoor said as she ran in and out of the cave repeatedly. Stalin joined her in the inspection, both hounds sniffing every inch of the space. It took some back and forth but they liked one where they had to crouch and crawl in to enter. The interior opened up to a comfortable height though so I guessed it was for defense.

“A second way out,” Stalin said after hesitating a moment. I did as requested and created a short hound sized tunnel leading to a second exit further down. After running in and out of both entrances a few times they finally seemed satisfied. That or they were finally too tired to care about interior design.

They retreated inside and checking my security feed I found them sleeping soundly, snuggled together. It was completely adorable and I took a picture. I was genuinely glad I had these two murderous puppers to keep me company. Companionship was as important as protection, at least for the sake of my mental health.

Even so I was grateful to have a bit of time to myself. I headed up to the mine's entrance and started doing a walk through of my simplified layout. Viewing it through the security feeds didn’t give a real feel for what it was like to actually walk the various paths.

They had looked fairly intimidating seen at a distance. Up close I found myself getting bored rather quickly. Monotonous stone passages really weren’t anything to write home about. Fortunately I wasn’t stuck with using the bland options.

Drawing on what little I knew of mines from my own world I started cutting in storage and rest spaces into the stone. Alcoves with benches and pegs to hang things on were simple but they immediately added to the atmosphere.

Tickles of water, moss, bits of exposed but worthless crystal. It was time-consuming but simple to add on the set dressing needed to remove the feeling of sterility from the place. Two hours into my project I heard a patter of feet.

“Mistress! What are you doing?” Blackmoor called out as she came running up to me. I gave her a scratch as she cuddled against my side. A quick check of the map showed that Stalin was in the pool.

“Well, I’m working on my layout and about to do an inspection,” I started to explain.

“Sweet!” Blackmoor said cheerfully and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Which one of your prior masters talked like that?” I asked. I’d named her after an offhand comment she’d made and I was curious where she’d learned it. It also made the inspection more interesting to chat as we went.

“The first one. They seemed rather young and… I want to say stupid but thats not really it. It was like their dame had kept them in the den too long. They didn’t know how to look after themselves well,” Blackmoor explained.

“Humans would call that being sheltered. I hope they treated you well all the same,” I said as the thought occurred to me a little late. Former dungeon masters might be a sore subject, given the hounds didn’t get a choice.

“Hm? They didn’t have much to do with me. I mostly sat around, they mumbled a lot though. Mostly about album covers and things,” Blackmoor replied easily. I nodded as I adjusted a stone formation to look more interesting.

“Oh… Do you know what an album is?” I asked, curious if she really understood the words she’d used now.

“Nope!” Blackmoor said cheerfully. I had to laugh at that.

“Metal is a genre of music and an album was a collection of songs. We could record them on a variety of discs and use machines to play them later. We’d put those disks in sleeves and things with art on the front which is what a cover is,” I explained as briefly as I could. I doubted Blackmoor would want to hear about how we'd gone from wax cylinders, to vinyl plates, to tapes, back to plates in the form of CD’s.

“I want to hear it and see one!” Blackmoore said excitedly.

“I can draw a cover but I’m afraid we'll have to abduct a bard for music. I don’t really know much about it,” I said honestly. I knew somewhere in the back of my mind I could read simple music, but I didn’t know any songs or how to play instruments.

“Alright!” Blackmoor agreed. I wasn’t sure if she was saying she was fine with me drawing or kidnapping. Scratching her behind the ears I felt like it was probably both, given her feelings on chew toys.

I definitely wanted to have a resident bard at some point. Just not a kidnapped one, despite my joke. I didn’t imagine that duress would improve someone's singing voice.

Doing the entire level would take a few days, but I wasn’t anxious. The thing I felt a bit worried about was the descent chamber where I’d placed the stairs leading down to the next level.

Finally coming up on it, Blackmoor followed me in and I let out a sigh. It was a modest space with a high ceiling and stairs at the back leading down. By modest I meant boring.

There was no sense of transition, let alone grandeur. This was just another bit of the mines from all appearances, which annoyed me. It had looked more imposing through the security feed. It was also dark, but in a monotonous rather than intimidating way. This would not do.

I checked my map and pushed the ceiling up twenty feet for a total of forty. That was the upward limit I could buy for this section, but I ignored that constraint and bought the exterior tile above it. That let me punch a hole clean through which brought a sudden flood of daylight.

“Ah!” Blackmoor barked in surprise, scuttling behind me as light poured in.

“Sorry,” I muttered, as I petted her until she calmed down. I should have said something, but I’d been in the zone for a moment as my vision for the room clarified finally.

“I’m going to keep working, you might want to join Stalin while I do. I’m going to be making some drastic changes in this area,” I explained. Blackmoor agreed, giving me a good lick before she took off for the stairs. She paused at the influx of daylight then ran for it, as if something so weak could possibly burn her.

Alone I got back to work, altering the shape of the chamber and location of the skylight. In the end I had a straight vertical wall for the entry to the stairs while I used a ninety degree angle to cut back to a shorter vertical for the entrance.

Moving the skylight around for the biggest dramatic impact took time, but was worth it. I’d need to monitor how the light moved through the day, but the location felt good to me. So long as no one arrived at the latter parts of the day, they’d come to find an impressive visual.

A visual I needed to make sure wasn’t a security liability. I made a ramp up to the skylight to check the exterior terrain. It opened up on a short slope that led to a steep drop.

If someone actually managed to get up to and use it, they’d have earned it. They would also have to be at least half mountain goat to pull it off.

Taking a moment, I surveyed the view of the valley. The cut had opened out to a spot back and just to the left of the waterfall. Below, the river cut through the sandy soil like a glittering silver ribbon with a lacy edge of green. It made a pretty picture contrasted against the pinks and oranges of the surrounding sand and stone.

It was almost a shame no one would likely try to climb out and up to see it. Feeling a bit playful, I made a bench. It was a start, but I quickly manipulated the surrounding stone to create a sunshade, so any who dared would find a comfortable spot to enjoy the view from.

Getting it all arranged so the light leading to the chamber below wasn’t obstructed was a bit tricky, but worthwhile. Even if no one else used it, I knew I’d be back, and really that was fine. This was my dungeon, I would enjoy it however I pleased.