-[Act 3 * Part 8]-

Elnora watched the charred remains of the Sea Dragon’s roost fade in the distance. The succubus then leaned over the ship’s railing and felt her stomach turn as she measured the distance to the ground below. The astral sailing ship carried them towards the Inner District of the 9th Hell at high speed, where, according to her master they had a meeting with the Guild officials to attend.

“So, what do you think of my pirate associates?” Basil asked. “Do you find them trustworthy now?”

The dungeon keeper had once more donned his magic disguise. Much reduced in size, he appeared no more conspicuous onboard the pirate vessel than his young apprentice.

“They care a great deal for their own,” Elnora answered. “Such close bonds give them the strength to fight on where mere mercenaries might otherwise have faltered. The old Admiral’s crew bled their enemies every step of the way; to the bitter end.”

“But they could not have held on to the harbor without our intervention,” Basil pointed out. “Not unless they were willing to throw away their lives in a dogged war of attrition. Only then they could have prevented the enemy from gaining the foothold near the plaza that ultimately forced Razazil to retreat.”

“I understand the strategic value of the harbor,” Elnora said, “but the Admiral clearly weighed the lives of his sailors to be more important than his access to Port Malus. I can’t help but sympathize with his decision to spare his crew.”

Basil grunted in disagreement. “There was much more at stake than just the harbor,” he said. “The Admiral’s notoriety, for instance, would have been greatly diminished by such a defeat. It would have emboldened more of his enemies to strike at him, while the Sea Dragon’s crew sought to recover. There was a price to pay for leaving that battlefield with his ships intact.”

“Like what?” Elnora asked.

Basil moved to elaborate. “The sailors that we captured, for instance, would not have been available to feed the abilities of that little priestess. Many more lives would have been lost to injury without her. Besides, dozens of wounded crew members were freed from captivity or pulled from the rubble. They would have been lost to the enemy if the Admiral had retreated.”

“I suppose I can agree with that,” Elnora said. “But it was still a hard choice to make. Should I really steel my heart to the plight of my minions? Is there not a middle ground?”

Basil smiled in response to her question. “Is that what you think of me?” he asked. “That I am entirely without compassion for my servants?”

“No, but,” Elnora stuttered, “back in the sick bay, you… I have seen you dismiss the lives of your minions on many occasions before, without as much as a second thought. And you clearly don’t value the lives of the pirates who serve you.”

The dungeon keeper turned to his apprentice and took hold of her by the shoulders. He looked her in the eyes as he explained his reasoning to the young succubus.

“Some lives are worth more than others,” he said. “Depending on the purpose of their existence, some minions are expendable. Others I hold close and dear to my heart.” He placed his hand to his chest. “Yes, even I have one. And, yes, there is room for special people in it.

“You don’t have to disregard the lives of your minions as a dungeon keeper, but you have to learn to pick your friends carefully. Try as you might, you cannot save them from the whims of fate. All creatures die and you would do well to learn to befriend only those who stand to last the longest. That way you will spare yourself a lot of sorrow.”

Basil counted on his fingers. “Scarlet, Schwartz, Gaia and Chronos—they are my family. I will suffer no harm done to them for as long as I remain the ruler of House Doom. But I cannot keep them locked away from the perils of combat; buried deep in my treasure vaults like some precious trinkets. They wish to serve me in a meaningful way and I have to account for the possibility of their death. That is the master-minion relationship you should strive for.”

Five fingers and only four names—Elnora eyed the fifth finger and wondered if there was room for someone else on Basil’s list of important people.

“So, yes, a dungeon keeper can have a heart,” Basil continued. “But one cannot make wise decisions if they are obsessed with the lives of their servants. The price for such vanity is only more death and misery.”

Basil dismissed the Sea Dragon’s folly. “Razazil’s father-like posture towards his crew is the old Admiral’s greatest weakness,” he said. “And it is one that I, with my thousands of loyal servants, cannot afford to even entertain. I am no father; I am a master. That is why he commands a few ships worth of crew while I command entire armies.”

Basil examined the priceless artifacts that were the bejeweled rings on his fingers as he reflected on his purpose for existence. “When you have so much power that entire worlds are made to bend to your will, what choice do you have but to throw your loyal minions against the fortified walls and hearts of the civilizations that you seek to destroy?”

Elnora nodded in agreement. She looked up at the stoic dungeon keeper with hazy eyes and questioned him further.

“Then what would make you consider a minion important?” she asked. “What could I do to—”

Before Basil could answer her question, Scarlet interrupted their conversation when she arrived to deliver a report to her Master.

“As you requested, I have contacted the Guild officials maintaining your flagship,” she announced. “Our travel path and means of transportation have been relayed to the astral navigation tower of the 9th Hell. We can expect their arrival any moment now.”

“You are calling for your ship?” Elnora asked.

Scarlet gestured dismissively at the deck of the pirate sloop. “You didn’t think we would be arriving at the Guild HQ in this wretched thing?” she asked. “Such ships are fit only for the lowliest of minions, not the masters of Hell.”

“And yet, you sailed one this morning,” Schwartz pointed out. The grim man appeared seemingly out of nowhere and remained at an arm’s reach of the crimson woman. “It’s almost… like you feel a constant need to validate your superiority. What? Are you afraid that people will see you for who you really are?”

Elnora noticed Scarlet grasping at the hilt of her sword, but their Master, Lord Doom, moved to intervene before the situation got out of hand.

“Tell me Scarlet, have you informed the good captain Ivar on what to expect?” Basil asked.

Scarlet nodded. “I will brief him now,” she answered.

Basil gestured for the hot blooded paladin to carry on with her task. He waited until the crimson woman had left before turning to address the instigator.

“Was that really necessary?” he asked Schwartz.

“Her attitude sickens me,” Schwartz answered. The dark ranger’s hawkish gaze followed Scarlet as she made her way across the ship’s deck.

“You are on guard duty,” Basil pointed out, “the both of you. How can I expect you to fulfill that role if you are constantly at each other’s throats?”

The black clad man bowed his head in apology, but offered an excuse none the less. “It would not have come to blood,” he said. “However I insult her, she will not place her vanity above her duty towards you.”

“And yet, it places me on the edge,” Basil pointed out. “I forbid you from antagonizing her while you two are on a mission together. Is that clear?”

Schwartz grimaced, but nodded in reluctant compliance. “Crystal clear, My Lord.”

“Then you are dismissed,” Basil said. “Make ready for the boarding the flagship.”

As the dungeon keeper turned back to her, Elnora expected to pick up on their previous conversation, but he was quick to move on from it.

“My ship should arrive at any moment now,” Basil proclaimed as he peered towards the massive walls of the Inner District of the 9th Hell. “Once onboard, I would like for you to join me in my private quarters. There is something that I wish to discuss with you. It concerns our future together…”

Elnora felt her heart skip a beat. The succubus didn’t know how to respond to the dungeon keeper’s sudden invitation. She turned away from him and pretended to be looking for Basil’s ship on the horizon. In reality she was trying to hide her blushing face.

“You won’t find it in the distance,” Basil said. “We are close enough to the Inner District that the ship will carry out a tactical jump directly to us.”

The succubus turned back to facing the dungeon keeper. Her lustful expression had been replaced by one of bewilderment. “Your ship has a dungeon core powering it?” Elnora asked.

“Of course,” Basil answered. “How else could I keep the giant thing from falling out of the sky?”

As if on his cue, a titanic vessel of ebony wood, green metal and shimmering sails appeared alongside the Admiral’s sloop. To a flash of blue lightning and the crack of thunder the flagship of Basil’s fleet had arrived. Its sudden appearance left the crew of the tiny pirate vessel scrambling to avoid collision. Truth be told, they didn’t need to change course, but their proximity to the giant ship made them take extra precautions just in case.

“Feast your eyes on the flagship of House Doom,” Basil announced as he presented the ship to his apprentice. “This is my dreadnought, Harbinger of Doom. Or, as I like to call it,” the dungeon keeper cracked a smile, “the Doom Boat.”

“I didn’t know it would be this big!” she exclaimed.

Basil’s ship, the Harbinger of Doom, stood at impressive four gun decks tall and, thanks to the adamantium hull supports bracing it, managed to surpass Ivar’s sloop more than ten times in overall length.

“Six hundred cannons,” Basil announced, “in triple barrel mounts, cycling through and firing in rapid succession. A single volley from her broadside has made mincemeat of krakens and unlucky pirate ships alike.”

Elnora held witness to a shadow passing over her. As she looked up to search for its source, the succubus found the port side sails of the giant vessel looming over them like the scales of a silver-backed dragon. All work onboard the sloop ceased as the pirates looked on in amazement at the sight of the dreadnought passing at once over and next to them.

The Succubus noted the numerous sailors scrambling about the rigging and catwalks as they sought to pull in the shimmering astral sails. Dozens of crewmen could be seen tending to the glistening silvery fabric, and this was only on one side of the ship. The top sails of the Doom Boat stood even larger. The need for speed had driven the designer of the ship to scale up the masts and rigging to a point where the crow’s nest was no longer a basket for a lookout, but a cabin with windows and a separate ladder for access.

“How is this thing even holding together?” Ivar asked.

The acting captain of the pirate sloop gawked in disbelief at the titanic vessel before him. His bravado dispelled, the dark elf stood with his shoulders slouched forward and jaw gaping at the sight of the dreadnought.

“It took forty years to build it,” Basil explained. “Many worlds were pillaged. Hundreds of sacred elven groves harvested and a thousand dwarven mountain holds raided for their precious resources. Only the best materials were used and, thus, the best ship was created. Among the thousands of dungeon keepers that serve the Guild only a few can claim to be in possession of a dreadnought. And none are equal to the Harbinger of Doom.”

“To oversee the construction of such a marvel of a ship must have felt like destiny calling,” Ivar said. “I can’t imagine the pride you must feel for this accomplishment!”

For the briefest of moments the dungeon keeper’s expression twitched in anger, but he was quick to suppress that emotion. “Not mine…” Basil said. “But I am the one who owns it now. So, yes, this is a testament to the power of my House; to my… legacy.”

Basil drew the attention of the dark elf captain with the snap of his fingers. “You never know when I might require a new captain for it,” he said. “He would need to be a man without fear or… split loyalties.”

Ivar straightened himself out and met the dungeon keeper’s challenge with determination in his eyes.

Basil slowly nodded, reaffirming his intention. “Fight tooth and nail for your chance to captain a ship, Ivar Razazil. The day might yet come when I call on you. Don’t let the old Admiral stand in the way of your destiny. He has already fulfilled his role in it…”

The dark elf captain saluted the dungeon keeper and set off to rally his crew. He was yet to deliver the dark lord to his personal ship and Ivar was determined not to slip up at the last moment.

When the sloop drew closer to the dreadnought for boarding, instead of a simple ramp being extended to greet them, the pirates found a crane being turned to extend something more akin to a bridge. Once the massive ramp was hanging over the pirate vessel, two marines, clad in Guild issue armor, jumped down to assist with fixing it in place. Ivar’s crew scattered to allow for the marines to do their work unimpeded.

Elnora commented on the presence of Guild troops. “I though the ship would be manned by your minions,” she said.

“Appearances aside, they are under my command,” Basil answered. “My household largely keeps to the Doom Mansion. I call on the expertise of the Guild to oversee the Harbinger when she is not needed. Outside of ceremonial duties like this she has not seen action in a few years, so to crew it with my best minions while the ship stays in port would be a waste. I only ever leave a skeleton crew behind to oversee the Guild minions.”

Now that the ramp was fixed to the sloop, a detachment of ten Guild marines and an officer came onboard to welcome the dungeon keeper and his entourage. Their red and black uniforms had the traditional sharp cut of Guild apparel, but were reinforced with padded armor and plates of metal to cover the most vital areas, such as the torso. They were not the old fashioned full plate cuirasses of Razazil’s marines, but, rather, more ergonomic versions that served the same principle. The armored plates covered only the chest and back with leather straps holding them together around the torso of the marine. They wore helmets with open faces and carried shortened flintlock rifles, intended for combat in confined spaces. For melee they wore sabers on their belt that could be mounted as bayonets, if needed.

The officer lined up his men and greeted the dungeon keeper. “Glorious Lord Basil von Doom,” the half-demon commander said. “On behalf of the Guild of Chaos, I welcome you onboard the Harbinger of Doom. She has been made ready to set sail under your command.

“I am her acting captain, colonel Geer Verdaal of the 455th marine division. What are your orders, My Lord?”

Basil dismissed him. “At ease, colonel. Take us to the Guild headquarters in the 9th Hell. I have an appointment with the Lord Administrator.”

“The Lord Administrator?” the colonel asked as if to make sure that he had heard Basil correctly. “Oh, well… As you command, My Lord!”

Basil invited Elnora to follow him onto the Harbinger. “Come, my apprentice, we should resume our conversation in my private quarters. Before I hold my audience with the most powerful man in all of the Nine Hells, I wish to discuss a certain offer that I might make to him on your behalf. I have a feeling that you will be very interested to hear what I have to say.”