-[Chapter 007]-

Basil set a brisk pace as he led Elnora through the Mansion. Having traveled down several hallways, passing countless chambers along the way, they eventually reached the Grand Hall where the main entrance was. There a gilded gate stood wide open, connecting the pocket dimension of the Mansion to the outside world. It was guarded by two dozen obsidian knights that were lined up along the walls of the room—tireless sentries, ever eager and willing to spring into action on a moment’s notice.

A pair of human servants stood next to the threshold of the Mansion, ready to receive and guide visitors from the world beyond. The manservant bowed deeply and the maid curtsied as the dungeon keeper walked by them. Basil paid no mind to their presence. Elnora, however, took notice of how pleased the two seemed by the arrival of their Lord. She caught a glimpse of their brimming smiles in passing.

At the threshold of the gateway they were greeted by a tall man dressed in black leather armor. On his back he carried a long blade of elvish make and a smaller sword at his side, but there didn’t appear to be even the slightest trace of elven heritage in his expression. The sword belt around his waist held several pouches and holsters for potions and magic scrolls. There were also a few handy pockets sown into the fabric of his armor for easy access.

“Report, Schwartz,” Basil ordered.

“The Cabal Co. representatives have just arrived,” Schwartz replied. The grim man executed an impeccable bow. “Security has been tightened in accordance with your orders. I have also taken the liberty of moving the guests into the throne room. Scarlet’s minions are currently channeling divination spells and will notify you immediately should any signs of espionage be detected.”

“Wonderful,” Basil said. He dismissed his servant with a nod. “I have been looking forward to this moment for some time now.”

“Cabal Co.?” Elnora asked. “I didn’t see any mention of them in our recent shipping manifests.”

“Ah, that is because I made a personal purchase,” Basil explained. “See, the Guild required so much paperwork to be filed before I could order a new dungeon core that I simply decided to go ahead and find one myself.”

They passed through the threshold of the Mansion door and immediately found themselves in the dark and battle scared chamber that served as the throne room of the dungeon. Not much had changed over the past few hours except that Basil had ordered the remains of the twins removed. In fact a couple of imps were still hard at work scrubbing the floor in an effort to remove the last traces of the defeated heroes. The body of the sister had been easy enough to remove, but what little was left of Aidan now resembled a splatter of extra chunky tomato sauce. The red imps—cat-sized and ill-tempered demons—made sure to pick up the pace of their scrubbing once they noticed the arrival of their Master.

Schwartz made sure to close the door of the Mansion behind them before following Basil into the throne room. He was a tad pale, but otherwise lively looking man. His coal black outfit almost matched the pitch-black color of his hair. Just like Scarlet, he stood more than a head taller than Elnora and his ageless complexion made it obvious that he was no baseline human. His flowing motions and lightning quick gaze betrayed a level of awareness not commonly shared among most kith races or their derivatives, but the lack of visible mutations or signs of demonic corruption suggested a more intricate pact or curse was responsible for his elevated state of existence.

Once inside the throne room, Basil found the representatives of Cabal Co. gathered at the damaged steps of his throne. The obsidian shards had been collected by the minions and the steps appeared to be slowly growing back into their original shape.

The Cabal Co. representatives welcomed Basil’s arrival with little fanfare. When the dungeon keeper entered the room he found half a dozen short, stout and gray skinned men standing around a large wooden crate, tools in hand, ready to unpack it. Their bodies were laden with gold and silver chains which signaled their high standing in chaos dwarf society. Judging from their appearance they were all craftsmen, except for the two soldiers in their party, though their armor was certainly at least as expensive as the fine silk clothes of their kinsmen.

As Basil and his minions drew closer, a Cabal Co. representative stepped forward to greet the dungeon keeper. “I’m happy to see you in one piece,” the muscled man said and bowed before Basil—an action that did little to shorten his stature. His golden chains almost reached down to the floor, but their weight did not seem to burden the burly creature in the slightest.

“It’s been too long, Drum,” Basil replied.

The Cabal Co. representative nodded in agreement. Drum then gestured at the naked, rage-stricken dwarf that was encased within the transparent ice formation not far from the throne. “Are you looking to spice things up around here?” he asked. “If you are going for a dungeon of lust vibe, then I can recommend some of my best artisans. They can turn any old surface into a titillating scene of obscenity and vice. If nothing else, Guild studies have proven that pornographic scenery tends to greatly confuse the intruders.”

Basil smiled. “I will keep that in mind.

“How are you, old friend?” he asked.

“Malevolent and mad with power,” Drum replied. “At least that is what my wife would tell you.”

“And how are the children?” Basil asked.

“Malevolent and mad with power,” the dwarf reiterated, “My wife says that they get that from me.” He broke out into a bout of thunderous laugher that the other dwarves were quick to join in on.

Basil moved to introduce the dwarf to his young apprentice, “Elnora, meet Drum Devourer Harkon. He is the best damned engineer in all of the Nine Hells.”

“Any man who says otherwise has obviously not seen my work,” Drum added as he shook Elnora’s hand.

“It is a pleasure,” she said.

“Well, with the introductions over, shall we get to the heart of the matter then?” Drum asked and pointed at the massive wooden box behind him. It was easily twice the size of the dwarf himself.

“Be my guest,” Basil replied. “I am curious to see what you got for me.”

At the clap of Drum’s hands the other chaos dwarves got to work unpacking the crate.

“Drum used to serve as the chief engineer for my father,” Basil explained to Elnora as they watched the dwarves carefully pry open the arcane seals on the crate. “When the old master of House Doom went missing some of the minions chose to pursue their own goals.”

“Mostly the skilled ones,” Drum interjected. “With Basil’s father gone there was little holding the old gang together anymore. I am sorry to say this, but most of us just couldn’t be bothered to stick around waiting for the new generation to mature. We had our own project to pursue.”

The dwarf gave Schwartz a cautious look before continuing. “Aside from some of the warriors, we just kind of all went out own separate ways.”

“But I have been keeping in touch with some of the old crew,” Basil added. “Drum was probably the easiest to find. He has occasionally done some work for me, mostly regarding the upkeep of the Mansion.”

“I did design it,” Drum said. “If it wasn’t for old man Chronos tending to its every need, the place would probably require a crew of a hundred mages and mechanics working around the clock to keep it going. While he lacks any profound skill in engineering, by now the old man knows the Mansion’s mechanisms like the back of his wrinkled hand.”

The dwarves were done with the unboxing of the cargo and stepped back to reveal the contents to the expectant dungeon keeper. Drum presented his work to Basil. “Behold,” he said, “the hottest new item on the market—uh, pending Guild approval—the sixth generation of dungeon cores!”

The crate turned out to contain a bulky crystalline cage in the shape of an octagon. At the heart of the shimmering cage was a head sized orb of pure Chaos energy. It was both at once shielded and restrained by the semi-transparent crystalline frame with only a few small openings on either side to allow for interacting with the power source.

“A beauty, isn’t she?” Drum asked. “I call this model Sudden Death.”

“Marvelous!” Basil exclaimed. “I am looking forward to seeing it in action.”

The dungeon keeper looked to Drum in slight bemusement. “But I can hardly sense its presence,” he said and glanced towards the base of his throne. “My old dungeon core feels much more powerful than this thing.”

“Oh, but that’s the best part about it!” Drum exclaimed. “Hear me out. While this baby produces only around 3% more power than the last generation—I know, it doesn’t sound like much of an improvement—the important thing is that it doesn’t bleed off its spare output into the astral plane.”

“Meaning…” Basil led him on.

“Meaning,” Drum continued, “that the only way for your enemies to find the location of the core would be to come within very short distance to the dungeon itself. And I am talking danger close. Like, right on top of it. I’ll spare you the techno-jumbo, but suffice to say that I had to engineer some rather complex feedback loops and output regulators to maintain the core’s power production just above what the dungeon requires at any given time.

“It’s all prototype technology, of course,” Drum added, “but don’t let that fool you. If the damned desk jockeys at the Guild’s Board of Patents and Magic Devices didn’t hold the habit of dragging their feet on certifying anything more complex than a pencil sharpener, I would have already begun the first commercial production run.”

“Hold up!” Elnora interjected. “You mean to say that this core is effectively invisible to screening spells? The whole reason why we need bury the core so deep below ground is to evade detection for as long as possible. This could change a lot about dungeon design going forward!”

Drum nodded vigorously. The old dwarf brimmed with pride as he elaborated on his contraption. “Spells, divination machines, prophets—nothing can detect this core with any degree of credibility. That’s why I am calling this model Sudden Death.” He smashed his fists together for added drama. “A world won’t know that a dungeon has gone active until the master in charge decides to make his first move.”

“You did mention that it’s a prototype,” Basil noted. “You know that I am as infuriated with the Guild’s sluggish nature as anyone, but I feel compelled to ask: can it be relied upon to function as intended?”

Drum continued talking up his work with tears swelling in his eyes. “It is the best, most innovative and ergonomic dungeon core out there!” he declared. “I am offering you the most important development of the decade here! It is the pinnacle of my life’s work… and if you won’t accept it then you will have to take my head instead! Here and now! I swear it on my name! Do or die!”

A tense silence settled over the throne room as everyone waited on Basil to say something. He was the dungeon keeper that the crafty dwarf had hoped to impress and all the parties present were wishing him success.

Elnora noticed that even the imps that had been tasked with cleaning up Aidan’s remains were frozen with expectation. With little beady eyes the red demonlings closely followed the unfolding scene, although she strongly suspected that they were probably just hoping that the number of blood stains on the floor would not double, should the dungeon keeper reject the dwarf’s offer.

Basil raised his hand over the expectant dwarf. “I accept!” he said and slammed down hard on Drum’s shoulder. “Heck, how could I ever refuse you, old friend. It will be my honor to host your masterpiece as my new dungeon core.”

“Wonderful!” Drum said and took Basil’s massive hand—well, two and a half fingers, really—in his own less than modestly sized hands. “I am so happy to hear it!

“When your father,” the old dwarf’s voice faintly cracked as he touched upon a topic close to his heart, “when he disappeared, I…” he sniffed, “I never thought that I would get to work for House Doom ever again. I thought we were done, that our adventures were over.”

Drum went in for a hug and Basil let him. “To see you all grown up,” the dwarf sobbed as he pressed his face into the dungeon keeper’s side, “to know that great deeds still lie ahead—it fills me with immense pride to know that I can be a part of your legacy too.”

Basil gently patted the gray head of the old dwarf. “You will always have a place in our household, Drum,” he said. “No matter what path you choose to walk, you will always be welcome here.”

Elnora was surprised and just a little envious to see Basil act with such overt kindness towards Drum. Granted, she had only been in his service for a short while, but in all those months she had never seen him so overwhelmed by emotion. Yet, there he was, the dark prince of the dungeon of Doom, lovingly patting the head of a senile old man. She could almost feel Basil’s breath as it grew louder in tandem with what she suspected was his swelling heart…

The succubus stirred form her daydreaming as she realized that the room was indeed ever so lightly trembling to the rhythm of Basil’s breathing. It almost seemed as though something was about to force its way out of the dungeon keeper. But that flow of emotion was not to last as Basil made sure to suppress it. It didn’t look the least bit natural the way he suddenly distanced himself from the rest of the room, his gaze growing strangely withdrawn for a moment. Elnora also took notice of how both Drum and Schwartz seemed to ignore the sudden shift in Basil’s persona.

When he returned to his senses, the dungeon keeper carefully pried Drum away from himself. He then approached his new dungeon core.

“How much time will you need to install it?” Basil asked. “Testing and integration with the dungeon’s power grid—what are we looking at here?”

“Actually, I should be able to do it overnight,” Drum answered with confidence. The old dwarf waddled up to Basil. “I am going to have to do a full system reboot once the new core is hooked up to the Mansion’s network. The dungeon’s power grid will be unreliable in the meanwhile, so no long range teleportation, unless you want to get lost in the Astral Sea on purpose. But I doubt that it will interfere with the routine operations of the Mansion itself.”

“Incoming or outgoing?” Basil asked.

“Oh, incoming teleportation will be fine,” Drum answered, “Doesn’t draw that much power. Why? Do you plan on leaving soon?”

“I must,” Basil answered. “We are assaulting the capital city tomorrow morning.”

“Well, then you better leave early,” Drum advised. “That way I can finish setting up the new core just in time of your victorious return.

“Oh, and if you don’t mind me sticking around a little longer, tomorrow I would like to survey the Mansion. I need to see how the place has held up in my absence.”

“You are welcome to stay for as long as you desire,” Basil replied. “I will send word to Chronos to make her systems ready for a checkup.”

Drum’s gaze grew distant as he focused on Basil’s chest. The old dwarf once more approached the dungeon keeper and reached up, placing his hand over Basil’s heart.

“We need to make sure that it doesn’t skip a beat,” Drum said.

Basil nodded in solemn agreement.

Having made sure that the eyes of his fellow dwarves were not upon them, Drum pulled a sealed envelope from one of the many folds in his garb and passed it onto Basil. “A message from the Sea Dragon,” he whispered. “For your eyes only. He said it was urgent and that the two of you should meet to discuss your ‘joint venture’. I suspect that...” he threw a cautious look towards Elnora, “well, you know what he was doing. Maybe there are some tangible results to show for it this time.”

Basil slipped the letter into his magic pouch. He then nodded and, having shaken the hand of the old dwarf in a parting gesture, set out towards the Mansion door. Elnora was quick to match her master’s pace while Schwartz stayed behind to converse with his old comrade for a while longer.

Drum was indeed old by demi-human standards. Schwartz, however, did not appear to have been touched by the passage of time even though they both had served House Doom all the way back during the reign of their old master. Just like with Scarlet, the origins of the black-clad warrior remained a mystery to Elnora; save for the fact that the two top commanders of Basil’s forces shared a longstanding and bitter rivalry.

There is still much that I don’t understand about this place, she realized. Elnora recalled her earlier conversation with Scarlet and it begun to take on a deeper meaning following the exchange she had just witnessed. There were indeed secrets to this place that even months down the line she had not even glimpsed at, let alone begun to unravel.

The succubus bit the corner of her lip as she realized that she really was an outsider to this place and its guardians in more ways than one. Worst of all, she still had no idea of who her master really was, or what would be required of her to prove her value and maybe, just maybe, secure a permanent spot among the minions of House Doom.

***

Basil noticed Elnora’s searching gaze and he moved to pick back up on their earlier conversation. “The final battle in the war for this world begins at dawn,” he said. “Make sure to study the reports well. Your performance will depend on it.”

“I will do my best!” Elnora replied. “I will live up to the expectations of House Doom.”

“Good,” Basil said. “But do make sure to set aside some time to rest. All of your preparations will be for naught if you won’t be able to focus in the heat of battle.”

Elnora saluted the dungeon keeper. “Understood, Master!”

“Come morning, you will find me in the dungeon’s main teleportation chamber,” Basil said and waved for his assistant to scurry along. “I will arrange the alarm call, so that you don’t miss it. Make sure to bring your best gear.”

“Yes, Master!”

Elnora spun around and was about to head out when she realized that Schwartz had been shadowing her in complete silence. The man had been walking so close behind her that she almost ran into him. Eager to begin her preparations for tomorrow’s assault, Elnora mumbled an apology before quickly disappearing into the endless hallways of the Mansion.

Schwartz took up position walking at his master’s side. His posture had been relaxed in the presence of Elnora and the others, but now the tall man took up a more rigid stance. “Situation, Sir?” he asked.

“An assault on the imperial capital and the palace complex,” Basil answered.

“Both at once, Sir? Do we have separate goals to achieve?”

“Yes,” Basil answered. “Elnora will handle the assault on the city walls. It will serve to test her abilities in the field as well as fill the purpose of drawing the attention of the defenders away from the palace—as was the original plan.

“In the meanwhile, I intend to go directly for the Emperor. From what our spies have reported, I believe that his throne will make for a fine addition to my collection.”

“My rangers have already infiltrated the imperial palace in preparation for supporting the assault,” Schwartz said. “If you wish, I could order them to execute the Emperor right now. Maiden Solar is already out of the picture, so the death of their remaining leadership should shatter our enemies’ will to resist even before our attack begins.”

“We could kill their leader ahead of time, but we won’t,” Basil said. “I need the Emperor’s forces to put up as strong a resistance as possible. I have promised Elnora a proper challenge. I just hope that the foolish kith will be able to provide it.”

“Then what are your orders for my rangers inside the imperial capital?” Schwartz asked. “Do we pull them out of the city to help with Elnora’s assault or should they focus on subverting the garrison from within?”

“Keep your assassins on standby,” Basil ordered. “Let them known that I desire to meet with the Emperor in person. If he seeks to escape the capital then they are authorized to capture him, but nothing more. Unless someone else tries to kill him or something—the life of that man is of absolute importance to me.”

Schwartz nodded. “Very well, Sir. He will be kept alive at all costs.”

“Have your men dispose of the court mages before the battle is joined tomorrow,” Basil ordered. “I do not wish for them to interfere by conjuring some annoying ritual spell to hinder our advance. The teleportation circle inside the palace should also be rendered inoperable before my arrival. No one can be allowed to escape.”

The grim man bowed his head. “Was there anything else you wished to discuss, Sir?” Schwartz asked.

“No, nothing else comes to mind, really,” Basil said. He then turned to look at Schwartz, “But can you believe how old Drum has gotten? I know that kith races age fast and all that, but I didn’t expect him to have withered so quickly since our last encounter. Who knew that four years could make such a difference?”

“Indeed,” Schwartz replied in his usual dry tone. “Anything else, Sir?”

“It’s just that I remember him being so full of life and vigor,” Basil mused. His contemplation was short lived, however, as he made sure to give his minion one last directive.

“Schwartz,” Basil addressed his servant in a stern tone, “I need your forces to cooperate with Scarlet’s on this one.”

The cast-iron expression of the grim man cracked at the mention of her name. “Must we, really?” Schwartz asked.

“Elnora can’t have her lieutenants bickering over perceived insults in the heat of battle,” Basil said. “She doesn’t have the authority or experience to handle disobedient troops more powerful than her. Your personal quarrels are a mere distraction to me, but I suspect that for the young succubus they might prove fatal. In light of this, I order that you coordinate your actions with Scarlet’s forces until the city has fallen. Is that clear?”

Schwartz looked to be searching for an excuse. “With all due respect, Lady Elnora would be best served by employing my forces alone,” he suggested. “They have already infiltrated the capital city and—”

“I have made up my mind on this issue,” Basil said. “You will put aside your differences and work together for one day. Have I made myself clear?”

“Crystal clear, Sir,” Schwartz replied. The grim man bowed his head. “I apologize for my insolence.”

By now they had arrived at the entrance to Basil’s private quarters. Before stepping inside, the dungeon keeper offered his servant a parting gesture of good faith.

“I am not going to try force you into a truce with Scarlet, but I cannot have your animosity interfering with my plans. I have complete confidence in your loyalty, but Elnora is a different matter entirely. I will not have her temporary command of my forces hampered by the unresolved personal issues of my lieutenants.”

“Understood, Sir,” Schwartz replied.

Basil pulled up the letter that Drum had given him and examined the familiar wax seal on it. “I expect to hear no objections from Scarlet on this issue,” he said. “Use a neutral messenger if you must, but relay my orders to her word for word.”

The dungeon keeper turned his back on the dark ranger and stepped through the door. “If Elnora performs as expected, by tomorrow evening we will be done with this world. After that we can begin planning our trip to the Nine Hells. It looks like a visit to the old Sea Dragon’s roost is in the cards. Maybe the old captain has discovered something substantial this time…”

“We can only hope,” Schwartz said. The grim man bowed before departing to deliver his masters orders to Scarlet.

***

When Basil entered his chambers he took a long look around the place to make sure that there were no servants present. His right hand held fast to the message that Drum had delivered, the thumb caressing the seal; nails pressing into the yellow parchment. His private quarters were usually not off limits to the custodial staff of the Mansion, even at this late hour, but the dungeon keeper did not wish to be disturbed, so, having made sure that he was indeed alone, Basil drew his claw over the keyhole of the door. Gears turned, pins fell into place and the door was locked tight.

Basil pulled on the handle to make sure that the door was truly secured before drawing his hand up the frame and towards an arcane seal that glowed bright blue. At the touch of his hand the entire frame of the door flashed with blue light as an arcane barrier was activated. The pale blue glow expanded to line the walls and windows of his chambers. The spell would prevent anyone from listening in on what was going on inside.

The dungeon keeper gave the arcane countermeasures a moment longer to fully manifest before pulling up the Admiral’s message. He pried open the seal with the tip of his claw and carefully unfurled the letter only to reveal a blank page.

“So you really have found something interesting,” Basil mumbled. The dungeon keeper’s brow sank. His jaw shifted subtly as he contemplated the possibilities. In the meanwhile his claws were busy picking apart the seal until all of the soft material had been gathered into a single ball of wax in his palm.

Basil carried the letter over to his study and placed it down upon his desk. He closed the curtains on the windows behind him and settled into his chair. With the blank page of the letter stretched out on the table before him, Basil conjured a small flame between his fingers and proceeded to heat up the remnants of the wax seal. As the red drops of molten wax landed onto the page below, they began to spread out across the yellow parchment, forming letters, words and sentences.

Once the molten wax had coated the page in full, a sequence of complete gibberish was revealed—it had been written in code. In order to decipher it, Basil took a letter opener from the drawer of his desk and ran its edge across his finger. He then flicked a few drops of blood onto the page and the letters reassembled themselves. The true contents of the message were finally revealed.

Basil’s intense gaze crawled across the red lines of the Admiral’s letter. The dungeon keeper read every passage twice in search of hidden meanings, but in the end he concluded that the letter was written in plain text—any substantive information having been excluded for fear of someone intercepting it.

Greetings and salutations, Lord Doom,

I write to you in a time of great uncertainty here in the Nine Hells. Much has changed since we last spoke in person and I sense a great storm gathering on the shores of the Nine, but I understand that your only concern, as always, remains the search for what was lost, therefore I shall not trouble you with pleas for assistance or funding at this time. The Dragon’s Roost still stands and my forces remain at your disposal, should you call on us for any task. The Gold Crown Buccaneers remember the patronage that your great house provided in our time of need and I vow to keep true to my part of our bargain till the oblivion claims me.

To that end, I must sadly report, that I have not found any trace of the missing one. The passage of time has rendered most avenues of search barren and void, but I am not sending your bloodbound letter back to you just to report on my failure. I have uncovered a trail that might merit exploration, but I cannot, in good conscience, take it upon myself to embark on it without consulting you first; in person and as soon as possible. It shames me to tell you this, but my crew is not equipped to deal with the kind of dangers involved. We will need the support your sizable household, if we are to embark on this quest, because I sense that my crew will be tested in the coming weeks and I know not in what condition we shall emerge from these trials.

A storm is gathering, Basil. I fear that the worst has come to pass and my work has drawn unwanted attention from both, the top and the bottom layers of the Nine. There are strange rumblings afoot here, the likes of which I have not witnessed since before your time. The Guild is mobilizing its forces, presumably to crack down on the seditious elements of the lower tiers, but violence is bound to spill over to all of the islands. Such moments of turmoil upset the existing order and foster power struggles between the crews and mercenary companies, so I must warn you that I might not be able to leave the Dragon’s Roost or receive you in proper order. For that, I must apologize.

I await your reply and urge caution. We are being watched.

Forever grateful to House Doom,

Razazil.

Basil memorized the letter before destroying it. He crushed the page between his hands and conjured a flame in his right palm. The dungeon keeper made sure to burn the letter completely before grinding the ambers and ashes between his fingers. All that now remained of the Admiral’s message was a thin coat to gray dust covering Basil’s desk.

The dungeon keeper stood up and approached the window at the back of the room. He pulled open the curtains and gazed out into the purple sky of his pocket dimension. The fabric of the curtains flowed and shifted to the tune of his breath. The pens and pencils on his desk rocked back and forth with the rhythm of his beating heart.

“I would like to think that you were testing me, father,” Basil said. He turned his head and looked at the stone bust of his father in the corner next to the window. “I would like to believe that all that you’ve done; all that you have accomplished in your long life and career as a dungeon keeper meant something… and that I was supposed to follow your example. But that would require you to be wrong.”

Basil growled. “We are not real. None of this is real.” He shook his head. “You should not have spoken those parting words, father. You should not have given me the answers to questions I cannot yet comprehend.”