In the worlds of The Misplaced Dungeon

{Timeline: May 2020 – Planet Dobay – MD shortly after Ch. 151}

* * * DOBAY – HERRINTAR UNIVERSITY * * *

Tilmarinar cursed the room’s shrill alarm, he curled himself as tightly as he could, hoping to obscure his ears and save his aching brain. Vaguely he cursed having forgotten to cancel the alarm on this freeday. Nobody should be asked to wake this early on a freeday.

“Shut that fracking thing off asshole, my head hurts,” complained a female voice.

Tilmarinar jerked himself flat in surprise. Two of his eyestalks popped up from their folds as he blearily tried to focus on the source of the unexpected voice. He blinked blearily as he dragged himself out of bed, surely that couldn’t be Rafenee? How could he have gone to bed with Rafenee, that stuck up know it all?

When he reached the room’s com port he realized it wasn’t the alarm. He had an urgent message. Still struggling to get his brain to reengage Tilmarinar flicked the accept button with one of his fringe-tentacles.

He started to read the message displayed on the com screen and all five of his eyes snapped up from their protective sockets in shock. “DRAFTED!” he shrieked in shock,

“Ow! My head! Not so loud,” complained Rafenee as she curled into an aching ball. Then one of her eyes snapped up and focused – rather blearily – on Tilmarinar. “What do you mean drafted?” she asked with a certain malicious curiosity.

Three of Tilmarinar’s eyes swivelled to look back at Rafenee, “Some marshal from the Security Directorate has drafted me, and this says ‘protective equipment will be issued’.”

With a convulsive jerk of a few of his fringe-tentacles he saved the message, then he keyed in his father’s number. As soon as his father’s countenance appeared on his screen he said, “Pa, I’ve been drafted by the Security Directorate, can you do something about it, like, find out what they want me for? I don’t like the bit about protective equipment being issued.”

Tormarinar of the Swirling Sands blinked rapidly under this barrage. “Calm down son. There might have been a mistake. You are a student, and as such you should be exempt. Who signed the draft notice?”

Tilmarinar drew in a deep breath trying to calm down. He then split the screen, and checked the draft notice. “Um, a Marshal Hoslick of the Two Dawns...” On seeing the way his father drooped unhappily, he added, “I – Oh, is that bad Pa?”

“Yes son, it is. Hoslick is one of Supreme Marshal Deltin’s cronies. He is quite above my touch. I should be able to find out what it’s about. I suggest – you pack, but don’t hurry overmuch. I won’t do any good to be late, but...”

“But nobody would be surprised if I was just in time, right Pa?” interrupted Tilmarinar.

“Just so son.”

Then with a great deal of frustration, Tilmarinar said, “Don’t risk your position Pa, I won’t do to reduce your ability to help my little brother succeed.”

“Look son, I’ll try. People will understand a father’s anxiety – I’ve been told Hoslick isn’t a bad guy. Hang on son, I’ll get back to you soon.”

Tillmarinar closed the call and shuddered, then he keyed in his mother’s number. The subsequent call wrung him out and left him feeling limp. He didn’t even notice when Rafenee left the room.

* * *

After pulling himself together, Tilmarinar made his way to the canteen for breakfast. He got into line and went flying when Gullfrom purposely barged into him. Tilmarinar flipped himself upright and reared up ready for a fight.

“What’s gotten into you, Gullfrom?”

“It’s all your fault Tilmarinar. You and your damn carbon based life crap. That’s why we’ve been drafted!” huffed Gullfrom.

Tilmarinar just stared, completely bewildered. His still aching brain could make no sense of his fellow grad student’s statement. He had decided to do his thesis on carbon life because the only carbon life that existed were the few peculiar mosses that grew around the polar lakes. That meant he could just write up some plausible sounding wild ass guesses, instead of having to work for his degree.

“CUT IT OUT you two,” bellowed the hall monitor. “Play your silly games outside, the canteen is for those who want to eat in peace.”

Tilmarinar, rather sullenly, allowed Gullfrom to move forward in the queue. After a few more students got in line he shuffled to the rear and presently picked up his breakfast tray. He made sure to pick a table well away from the muscular Gullfrom. He lingered over his breakfast, so as to allow Gullfrom to leave the room.

When, finally he left he passed Rafenee heading in. She hissed in anger when she spotted him, “What did you do? The Prof told me we all got drafted because of you.”

Tilmarinar shrunk down apologetically, “Me? Gullfrom said it was because of carbon life...”

“Do you mean we are going to be exiled to one of the poles? Just ’cause you’re lazy?” scolded Rafenee. “Have fun when you see the Prof, he’s not happy.”

* * *

Tilmarinar found Professor Daalanor of the Obscure Thoughts to be in a surprisingly cheerful mood. He had a range of nasty looking weapons set out on one of his shaggy rugs. He looked up when his student entered his study.

“Good day Tilmarinar. Great news eh? We’re off to explore a new dungeon. One that seems to be creating carbon based life forms, and it is purifying the water of Tissin sea-lake. Just what your thesis needs,” chortled Daalanor.

Tilmarinar gaped in shock. “But – but, how? And isn’t Tissin the largest sea-lake on Dobay?”

“Yes, and the moss fields stretch for about a kilometre around its shores. And maybe we’ll even be lucky enough to see – rain.”

Tilmarinar shuddered in absolute horror, “Water falling from the skies, but that stuff is horribly corrosive...”

Daalanor rippled with glee: “Yes my boy, and the Security Directory are creating armoured aqua-suits for us. And we will get to test them when we accompany their fighters and mages in the delving of this dungeon.”

‘He’s mad, completely round the bend... System help me... we’re doomed and he’s jumping for joy,’ thought Tilmarinar. “Wh-what do the aqua-suits have to do with a dungeon sir?”

Daalanor watched his graduate student with malicious glee. “Why, it is at the bottom of Tissin sea-lake. Isn’t that great? Get packed Tilmarinar, we are leaving just after dawn tomorrow.”

As he slunk out his professor’s study he heard Daalanor let out a loud guffaw. Tilmarinar shuddered at the unfairness of the world.

* * *

The sun had barely lifted over the horizon when Tilmarinar joined his professor and fellow graduate students in front of their universities reception hall. He noted glumly that the big slate-grey crawler with the SD flashes was being avoided by all sensible beings. A heavily armed guard was reared up by the crawler’s open door.

Three sullen graduate students followed their happy professor into the spacious interior of the crawler. The guard followed them in and sealed the door.

Once they were settled, the crawler rose with a hiss of its hydraulics. The driver checked that the locks had latched securely before he started the wide tracks into motion.

The individual occupying the location next to the driver reared himself up slightly, displaying that his carapace bore the makings of a major. “We’ll be at the airport shortly, we’ll be taking a flying wing south. Don’t worry, there are no storms forecast for today.”

“Can I get a place next to a window?” asked professor Daalanor. “I love flying.”

The major’s fringe-tentacles froze in surprise. “That can be arranged sir, anyone else want a window seat?”

“No!” squeaked Rafenee in horror. Tilmarinar gestured negation, as did Gullfrom. The guard, still resting by the entrance chuckled at the graduate student’s reactions.

To Tilmarinar’s relief, the flight south proved uneventful and boring. Five powerful turboprop engines pushed the powerful flying wing south. The distance was nearly a quarter of the way around the world, but it passed smoothly.

They disembarked to a scene of chaos. Several tunnelling machines were being employed in creating a settlement. Everywhere Tilmarinar looked he saw Dobayans with painted carapaces. He made sure to remain near one of their guards. The workers with their lurid red and yellow striped carapaces were clearly dangerous prisoners. A fact further emphasised by the fact that they all bore small shaped charges bolted to their carapaces over their braincases.

Almost involuntarily his eyes were drawn to the lake-sea. “Why is the water sort of blue? I thought the lakes were yellowish in colour.”

Professor Daalanor grinned. “They did say the dungeon was cleaning up the water, I’ll bet that’s why it’s blue.”

“Correct,” snapped the major. “Let’s get you settled in. Tomorrow we’ll fit you with your aqua-suits and start training you in them. Then we will go exploring.”

“I can’t wait,” exclaimed Daalanor while Tilmarinar groaned in dismay.