The Maw

The dungeon watches through the many eyes of the Harbinger as it bursts onto the surface, greedily devouring the sights. It’s clear immediately that the Maw made the correct decision to invade the surface. There’s so many different things to savor!

Even the chaotic mana of the battlefield makes the dungeon practically drool at the idea of Devouring all of it. The Maw makes notes to itself about what things look especially tasty. The denizens arrayed against it rank high on the list, as most of the specific types are ones it has only come to understand via the many options for spawners. To see them moving around only makes it hungrier.

The top of the list belongs to the enemy scions, however. The wolf looks lean and tough, and its shadow mana seems nicely marbled with fate. It will be a meal to savor. The bee scion may need to be broken and turned, instead of simply consumed. It understands the concept of honey, but the few varieties of underground bee don’t produce very much.

It's uninterested in the undead scion, at least at first. Liches are not uncommon, and all the ones the Maw has consumed so far have been a distasteful mess of affinities, or the bland homogeneity of arcane affinity. The Maw’s opinion shifts as the battle continues, though.

While it enjoys the taste of the wolf scion via the Harbinger's senses, and finds the defeat of the bee to be a waste, it’s surprised at how tenacious the lich is. And then the senses of the Harbinger go haywire, forcing the Maw back. With some distance, the dungeon witnesses it’s Harbinger torn apart, shattered, and obliterated. It’s the flow of mana that has the Maw’s attention, not the way it's being used. With its focus pulled back, it can feel the mana blend and merge. It yearns to taste the lich, to consume and savor the unique bouquet of its mana.

For now, it will have to settle for the memory, though it will certainly have the Harbinger relive the experience once it respawns. The Maw generally doesn’t care much for mind affinity, but it knows the Harbinger can replay memories. While it generally does so to harm others, the Maw has no problem ordering it to do so to itself, so the dungeon can enjoy watching the mana flows and imagining how they’ll taste.

But such diversions will have to wait. Not only does the Harbinger need to respawn, but the Maw needs to decide what to do next. It’s not dissuaded from its mission to consume the surface, but it is forced to admit it will not be so simple as it had hoped.

It needs more food. It needs to grow. While its metal affinity fey and elemental spawners are maxed, it has a lot of potential growth in the spawner the Harbinger came with. The Maw is mildly confused as to why it doesn’t have its metal affinity, but it’s not the first strange thing about the spawner.

Hmm. It also needs to decide what to do about the least already sent out on expedition. If it let them go, the surface dungeons will be able to eat the mana from them. If it calls them back, it will have to spend some of its own mana to keep them functioning. Lose nothing new, but feed the enemy, or recall them and lose its own food?

It would even cost some to recall them, making bringing them back even less appealing. The Maw almost leaves them to their fate, before remembering it doesn’t have to feed the least when they return. It doesn’t even need to just let them starve, though the very idea makes the dungeon shiver in horror. No, it can keep them from that particular fate, and still feed itself.

It needs to inform the delvers of its new need for food anyway.

It focuses on the Redcap, in the process of creating another new hat. The material for this one seems louder than most.

“Master, what can Redcap do?”

Why is this one louder than the others?

“Master, Redcap is working on his best piece yet. The suffering adds much.”

Finish your meal, then call on the High Priest. He has new work.

“Yes, Master. Redcap is almost finished, if he can just put on the finishing touches?”

Yes. Don’t ruin your meal, but don’t delay, either.

The Maw watches in idle curiosity as the materials eventually gurgle their last breath, and the Redcap leaves to find the High Priest. Not that locating him is especially difficult. The pale elf is holding a banquet and meeting with the ranking members of the clergy. Despite the richness of the food, very few of the Priests of the Maw are overweight. In truth, most are thinner than is strictly necessary, but they’ve learned that a fat priest is a tempting morsel for the Maw. Besides, with how busy they are, it’s difficult to put on much weight in the first place.

The High Priest stands and bows to the Redcap. “Esteemed Voice of the Great Maw, what a pleasure! Is that Cardinal Birtyl on your head? I hope he was satisfactory for you?”

The Redcap nods, making the grisly display on its head jiggle in disturbing ways. “Yes, traitor was an inspiration. Redcap hopes to keep this piece fresh for as long as possible. But Master did not send Redcap to show off latest hat.”

The High priest nods in understanding, with the others nodding and trying not to stare at the scion’s latest fashion accessory. “We are all, of course, hungry to do the Great Maw’s bidding.”

“There will be a cull,” states the Redcap plainly. While uncertainty flashes across many faces, the High Priest is not among them.

“I’ll have the guards start rounding up those who are not contributing enough.”

“Not of the people. The Master has denizens returning that will be culled. Bring as many delvers as possible. The surface is more difficult to chew than expected. The Master wishes to send more denizens later, as well as dedicated delvers. Those who cull the most of the least will get more training. Those who get culled by the denizens will be food for the Master.”

This time, curiosity flashes over the faces of those gathered, including the High Priest. “We will be allowed to help the Great Maw to sink its teeth into the surface?”

“Yes. Master wishes to grow, and wishes to send more than just a probing attack next time. The surface has delicacies that are jealously guarded. Master will consume all.”

“The Maw will consume all,” agree the gathered priesthood, before the High Priest speaks up.

“Will we need to send more delvers to harvest from and give to the great Maw? I take it we’ll also be stepping up our hunting parties?”

“Yes. Master needs strong teeth to eat the surface. Prepare warmth. The surface is cold. The least could not handle it, but the Master’s other denizens should. The Master also wishes to expand the special spawner. Much mana will be needed.”

The High Priest bows again. “Of course. We will stock the pantry properly and ensure everyone is working towards the Great Maw’s goal of claiming the surface.”

The Redcap nods and leaves, having said what it needed to, and the Maw turns its attention elsewhere. It needs to prepare to do more than simply attack. Despite how distracting the wonders of the surface are, the dungeon can’t let itself get too distracted. If it was on the surface, and something tried to attack, it would try to consume the source, not just the few morsels that saw fit to wander too close.

Tempting as it is, upgrading the Kitchen will probably not help it too much. The food can give a good boost, but the Maw can already feed all of its denizens to help fight back an attack. Though it might need to upgrade it anyway, if it wishes to feed the delvers.

It eventually decides to hold off, at least until it knows how many it will need to feed, and how often. It wouldn’t want to waste the enhanced food.

It also starts moving around its denizens, expecting to need to cull more than just the returning least. They will be good training for delvers and are cheap to spawn. The metal affinity fey and elementals will need to be culled as well, to not only equip the delvers, but to better outfit the Maw’s own denizens. It will give better guidelines for what to attack once the priesthood gathers the delvers. While it would cost the Maw to slay its own denizens, it suffers no penalty for processing the ones the delvers kill. They can bring back some to help outfit themselves, and leave the rest for the Maw.

The Maw smiles as it thinks back to the sublime weave of the lich’s mana. If the dungeon wishes to dine on such a masterpiece as that, it will need to ensure its knives are sharp and its stoves hot. Failing to prepare it properly would almost be as much of a travesty as never getting to taste such a fine ingredient at all.