- Chapter 10 -

Ten A Penny

I looked over the battlefield and watched as my newly created monsters went about clearing up rubble. They were shifting it onto a heap lumped up against the second entrance and the goop left behind by the overly ambitious litch was buried in the furthest pit. It was nauseating- despite the fact that I don’t even have a stomach. Rotten and evil flesh will do that to you. Pondering their mediocre chores, I recalled my first impulse; wanting to have some of the monsters do patrols, but really that just meant staring at the walls. They felt stupid staring at the walls. I felt stupid staring at them, feeling stupid staring at the walls... so cleaning up it is- that was really all there was to do. I wish there was more to loot, that was fun while it lasted.

I re-focused my attention on what was left of Parallel Me’s pitch, “...so, all in all, it’s worth it.”

“It’s a hole…. that I have to pay for.” I enunciated slowly.

“It’s a pitfall trap.”

“I’m not repeating myself. I may as well just get one of my monsters to dig it.”

Irritated, Parallel Me replied, “NO. YOU don’t understand. It’s a pitfall trap ‘made’ with DP. That means it’s permanent- in a sense, as it will slowly recover from sabotage.”

“Sabotage? It’s a bloody hole.” I replied gruffly.

“HOLES can be filled or covered, i.e. SABOTAGED, dumbass. You think you have a lot of freedom as to what you can do in your Dungeon? Intruders have more. You think they won’t break your stuff?”

“Oooh...” I realised. We were debating on how much DP to spend on traps. We had already purchased some monsters. We decided to keep it simple to start with, get a basic fighting force. Nothing too expensive, but still versatile. Of the 100,000 we had originally, the book about the death attribute cost an irritating 1,00DP. 800DP went towards 80 Goblins at 10DP each. We also spent 600DP on 20 variant Goblins- Shamans- for 30DP each. Since we planned on splitting them up into 5 teams of 20, we also brought 5 Hobgoblins (80Dp each) to head them. This brought the grand total spent on monsters so far to 1,800DP. In other words, a drop in a bucket… well, maybe a cup. Either way, we had over 97,000DP left.

Parallel Me buried his face in his hands. Sighing he continued, “Adding in our own mechanisms is an idea for another day, we should just focus on DP built traps for now. But it’s important to put thought into where to put the traps. You want to maximise the effectiveness of the obstacles between you and intruders.” Letting lose a smug smile, Parallel Me tapped his nose, “You see, the trick isn’t just about what you can do to hinder them on the way in, it’s also about what you do to hinder them on their way out.”

“You do realise you’re just as much of an expert as I am, right? Which is to say not at all. We’re noobs.”

Ignoring my witty comment Parallel Me grumbled, “But of course, we have two fronts to fight on.” Putting more thought into it only caused him to curse, “Just thinking about us having two entrances is really pissing me off! We don’t even have a wall to back ourselves against.”

I clicked my tongue and agreed. “Yeah, I know better than to trust The System but to think it put us on the second floor! That’s not what I picked, but at least this floor is really big. Still, The System is just an insidious piece of crap if you ask me. Hell, I bet it was bored or-”

“Oh no!” Parallel Me gasped.

“What?”

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh FUCK!”

“What’s wrong,” I stammered, my voice tinged with worry. I stared as Parallel Me paced, agitated.

“No new born Dungeon should have to deal with this shit! It’s just one thing after another!”

“For God’s sake- tell me what’s wrong!”

Parallel Me spun to face me, asking, “We had a perusal through quite a few of the first floors, remember? So, tell me, does this floor look familiar?”

I felt a chill soak me all the way to my bones as the answer came to me, ‘No, it does not’. I choked out a ‘but’ before Parallel Me quickly interjected, saying, “But? Think about it. When we looked through all the floors that we could on The System’s World Map, there were no monsters, corpses or undead- nothing. I wouldn’t have let you take this gamble otherwise. But a horde of undead assault us within, what, an hour? Two? Of spawning? Ignoring the size of the place there's a fucking Dungeon Core in the middle of the cavern. I don’t care how wealthy this Dungeon was, there is no way it would put a Dummy Core on one of the first few floors- let alone a REAL ONE. There can only be one real Dungeon Core per Dungeon- and I see no reason as to why a Dungeon Core that wasn’t suicidal would put their Core on anything BUT the last floor. As evidenced by the other entrance to this room, BEST case scenario, this is the second last floor.”

This can't be happening, I thought. “And just when I thought things were looking up for us.” We both sighed. Mine conveyed depression while Parallel Me’s was simply irritated. “There’s hope?” I asked.

“Of course there is, I’m me.” Parallel Me snapped. “We’ll just have to do what I thought we would do in the worst-case scenario with the dwarves; abandon our territory. We’ll move to that island.”

“Abandon…” I considered the word, and its previous mentions. “Our plan B.”

“If you’re going to abandon your territory, the earlier the better. At least we haven’t invested in anything we can’t take with us. I wanted to do this on the island anyway.”

“Why?”

“Enough questions. We need to get started and we don’t have time to waste.” Parallel Me was already heading towards my Core. “Buy a chest,” he said over his shoulder before he followed up by saying, “with handles on the ends so that it can be easily carried. There should be one in the miscellaneous tab. Assemble the troops, including Gravis-”

BOOM! I looked up from the menu and over to the entrance only to see rubble, dirt and nearby Goblins sent flying. In place of the once blocked entrance was a massive figure bound in angry muscle and bristling fur, hot breath erupting from its snout. I trembled as the creature lifted its massive head and roared. Its horns gouged deep furrows in the entrance ceiling. Shaking its head lose it ignored the falling stones and dust, locking its eyes with mine. They were blood red. TRUST ME, it was scary. Hefting up the massive wooden club- that I had somehow missed- it levelled it at me. This is just a guess, but I think it wants to kill me.

“M-m-minotaur?!” I stuttered. It’s massive! I turned to Parallel Me and hoped whatever insidious Gods responsible for this were watching and wanted us to die a horrible death later.

Parallel Me took a split second to process his shock before he started barking out orders to the Goblins, bypassing my authority. I would have gladly thrown this hot potato over to him if he asked, thus he didn’t have to. Soon he turned to me. “Original Me, take over. Keep it out of our territory! I have a few vital purchases to make.” To the Litch he hissed, “Inform Gravis, and pepper that Minotaur with as much magic as you can.”

I focused on pushing back the Minotaur with sheer numbers, despite the fact that it made it harder to hit it with magic. If he stepped on our territory we wouldn’t be able to purchase anything. Looking over my shoulder I could see that Parallel Me was franticly throwing things into a chest under the Core. The minotaur roared in frustration. The tunnel wasn’t large enough for it to swing its club effectively and the weight of the Goblin horde was too much. Another frustrated roar echoed out. “I think it’s going to be OK.”

“Minotaur’s travel in packs,” came Parallel Me’s curt reply.

“Why would you-”

A series of responding roars sounded out in the distant reaches of whatever lay beyond the tunnel. “Crap!”

“Let’s Go!” Shouted Parallel Me. A dull rumble resounded throughout the cavern as mana retreated like the tide, disappearing into the void. I knew that we had officially abandoned this territory. Two Hobgoblins were lifting up the chest when I turned around. The Core must be in it as I couldn’t see it. I suck close to the centre as what was left of my forces escorted me out, using the second entrance. The Goblin Shamans started chanting. The tunnel we just left through shook. I felt my connections to the Goblins rapidly disappearing. “Hurry!” At my urging the tunnel soon collapsed under the Shamans renewed efforts.

Looking around the new room we found ourselves in, Parallel Me said “I don’t know if there is another way round, but we should assume the worst. We need to get out of here.” Snorting he added, ‘Were the hell is Gravis?!”

The Litch replied, “He is on his way.”

“I thought I told him not to roam too far.” I said.

“Well, if he’s not here soon…” Parallel Me started.

“I can sense him. He is close… He’s getting closer.” The Litch informed us, turning towards a particular doorway.

“Is he OK?” I asked.

“Yes.” The Litch replied.

As the seconds ticked by, Gravis finally emerged from the doorway under much scrutiny. He immediately bowed upon seeing me.

“What the hell?” I asked.

“Please forgive me my Lord. I know there is no excuse.”

“And yet I would like to hear one.”

“I sensed your concern about the Dwarves, so I thought it prudent to keep an eye on the ones that showed up.”

***

[Daven Mountain Range - Unknown Tunnel]

“Oh holy light, please behold my plight, to erase this evil in my sight, evil you must smite!” Barthine rapidly chanted. A streak of white left his right hand and engulfed the approaching skeleton, disintegrating it into ash and crumbling the others that were to close. But more could be seen in the distance, shuffling ever closer. Barthine clutched the parchment in his left hand tighter. It was all for this, he thought. A scream prompted a look behind him. “No!” He shouted as a group of armoured skeletons overwhelmed a now hidden figure. “… I don’t understand! It doesn’t make sense!” Barthine wailed. The group of white robed figures tightened their ranks, compensating for the loss.

“Please! Church Head! We must retreat!” Yelled a disciple of The Sanctified, not taking his eyes of the encroaching hoard.

“Why are there Undead here!?” Came Barthine’s muttered reply.

“It can’t be!” Screamed another disciple.

Turning to look, Barthine’s face paled further and his blood ran cold. “A wraith…” He choked out. It was peering out from behind a corner. A chaotic mixture of a soul and mana, wraiths formed a pale mist, hazily retaining humanoid form. Their fractured memories not enough to go on, they were faceless and indistinct. Legend said that their state had condemned them to insanity or insanity had condemned them to this state. They knew many emotions like sorrow, rage and frustration. But not mercy. Never mercy. They weren’t even able to remember their own names. Why save room for the memory of mercy? Any living creature unfortunate enough to encounter one…

“Run! RUN!” Barthine shouted. They charged the densest part of the hoard. Even if it wasn’t the way they had come, the only path they knew back to civilization, it was in the opposite direction of the wraith- that alone was enough to decide their course.

A skeleton, far too small to be anything but a dwarf moved quickly. His hammer came swinging, landing on a disciple with a crunch. He didn’t get back up. “Why?” Came a whisper.

Barthine’s eyes went wide. Did that skeleton just speak?! That means…!

“Why!” It said louder. “Why did you leave me!?” Came its roar.

“Yes, why…” Came another whisper.

Then another, “We suffered…”

“For you!” A shout.

“Our sacrifice! Do you even remember!” And another.

A canopy of whispers and shouts, of rage filled screams soon filled Barthine’s ears. His words fell from his lips, filled with despair, “Fallen… They’re all Fallen…” PAIN. Barthine looked down. A sword had sprouted from his chest, piercing a lung. He stumbled, trying to use a nearby wall as purchase. Able to hold out no longer he slumped against it and slid down. Blood was slowly filling his lungs. Pulling his eyes off the floor they came level with a sword- tinged in blood. The bony hands attached hoisted it up in the air. Only, it didn’t come down.

Shuddering, the Fallen took a step back. It stopped, they all did, only moving to make way for… the Wraith. Barthine felt true despair fill him. Wait, he thought, Maybe my disciples will be able to make it out. He looked over to where he remembered them being last. They were beat up, scattered on the floor. Why aren’t they getting up? Seize this opportunity and escape! Silence occupied his mind before the realisation did. They’re dead. I’ve killed them! But I was only trying to help. Why did it turn out like this?

Barthine jolted, as much as he was able to in this state, from shock. The Wraith had crouched down and brought its face level with his. Does it want to savour my despair?

“Hello, I’m me. Original Me. Not to be confused with the other me,” Came an eerie whisper from the Wraith, “What’s your name?”

Barthine’s eyes couldn’t get any wider.

After a brief pause, the wraith continued, “Don’t worry, I’m real. I’m really here. I prom…ise?” Pausing once again it soon turned it head and spoke, “I don’t remember you saying that you promise I’m real. You do promise, right? Of course this is relevant… There you go. Was that so hard?” Satisfied the Wraith resumed facing me and said, “Don’t worry, I promised me that I’m real.” Highlighting his words, he pointed to a spot over his shoulder absent of anything.

Barthine gurgled. Blood dribbled down his chin. The lack of oxygen was causing the edges of his vision to be ringed with darkness. But he knew what he had to do. Put this thing out of its misery. Intoning the strongest holy spell he could cast without verbally speaking, faint amounts of holy light soon gathered in his free hand. Barthine hoped this low-level spell would be enough.

Cocking its head to it’s side the wraith looked down towards Barthine’s now glowing hand. Barthine unleased the spell and the beam of light rushed to embrace the wraiths face. As the holy light blasted a hole straight through its head it set the mist around the wound smouldering. As the wraith clutched its head in its hands it let out a soul shredding scream that pushed Barthine’s struggling consciousness to the brink of collapse. But he persevered, ignoring all else. So close.

As the holy mana once again collected in his hands the Wraith’s head snapped back towards Barthine. Snarling, it dived at him. Soon mist clouded his vision and something started crawling down his throat. He could feel it spreading, taking over… When Barthine’s struggling finally stopped, and he breathed his last, Barthine’s corpse, Original Me, stood up.