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Artifice Core
Chapter 19: Storm

Chapter 19: Storm

Kelter sent another copper bolt ricocheting from the leading rat's shield. They advanced in pairs along the narrow path, the outer warrior facing the river in case the sharks attacked again. It made for an awkward and clumsy advance but that was the only benefit - both rats in the vanguard kept their shields angled towards him. Still, his fingers grasped another rivet and loaded his sling. They were so close now even he could start aiming for the rodent's fingers through the gaps in the shield and so he did - close but the shot sailed past, causing little more than an awkward shuffling from a stinging blow to the side of some warrior deeper into the phalanx.

The sheer unfairness welled up in his throat as bile, burning and bitter. Even that didn't help him, he wasn't some terrible monster who could spit acid that melted flesh as easily as stone. Just a goblin. Short, gangly and green as hate. No natural weapons but for brains and vitriol and those took time. Spite and curses would only get you so far and to judge by the effects of the ones he'd been slinging that wasn't very far at all. He could think of so many things to stop this, to get away, to fight them off, to kill them all without fighting at all in the first place. Not one of them remotely useful now. All very useful if he'd prepared them several hours ago but that wasn't very helpful right now, was it?

Now those rat bastards - they must be, who'd marry a snout like that - they'd had time. They'd had lots of time, time to train, to develop an industry, to train with the results of the industry. Those cheating bastards, being alive more than a day - Gotcha! A bronze nut cracked off the knuckle of the leading rat's spearhand, splitting skin and breaking bone. His bill clattered to the stone and hissing, the warrior dropped back in the line, another shuffled past to take his place. Shit.

At least the strange lightning wands couldn't seem to get an angle on them. Then it'd really all be over. 'All over in a minute, barely a hope of salvation' was horrible but it sure beat the hell out of 'all over already.' Always look on the bright side of the tunnel, that's the way. You're only in the second worst situation you can imagine...

It was the dark side of the tunnel the problems came from, Kelter was learning. Ahead of him was all yellow eyes shining in different directions and reflected metal highlights. The light came from somewhere far behind the cohort, carried along the water and across shield brims, helmet crests and blade edges. In the dark he knew the ratmen advanced, he'd seen them in the light of their great ward and in the torchlight but now all that he saw was reflections and twitching yellow orbs, tramping up and down in unison. He dropped his slingstrap, too close now and backed into the well, skirting the edge to steer clear of the spearpoint. Uller and Tosser bracketed the doorway, ready to strike. Crouched down like coiled springs, pressing back on the toes of their back foot, heel raised. The microsecond the first rat stepped through the archway they'd be hit from both sides. With luck, they'd get into the second row before the cohort could adapt to the knives in their ranks and strike them down. Kelter spat, pausing halfway round the jagged hole. Maybe they'd take half again their number with them.

The phalanx reached the archway, too narrow for them to advance in pairs. There was a pause while the first pair waited for each other to take the vanguard, then angrily the one at the wall began to move forward.

There was the tiny sound of stone crumbling to dust and a single ray of bright emerald light shone through the floor, directly in front of the ratfolk soldier. Goblin and rat alike froze and the ray slowly cracked into a web.

Kelter grinned, hope swelling in his chest. The Emerald Fountain hadn't done them wrong yet. "The last second boss? Really? You dramatic biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-" He screamed as the ground fell out beneath him.

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Ratfolk and goblin both fell when I completed the collapse. The front three ranks of the cohort fell as the ground below them tipped forward, the tunnel I'd dug up from the second floor opening beneath them. Atop them fell the side of the well, puréeing rat beneath over a meter of stone. Atop them slid the stone of the rim of the well, shaped, sliding down the makeshift slope.

My working wasn't perfect. I had been under pressure, out of time. I had to work fast. In the tumult I couldn't control the stone they stood on well enough. I still felt guilty, like I had failed my minion when one of the luckless goblins assisting Kelter toppled beneath the stone and was crushed and broken. I wish I could say it was quick but they weren't so lucky.

I tried to maintain a hold over the slabs under Kelter and his surviving apprentice, sliding them down the makeshift ramp. Rocks and dust flew by them, digging into flesh and catching on clothing. They reached the second floor stunned. I was about to shout them out of their shock but I underestimated them. Both goblins took off running, albeit Kelter with a limping with a looted bill as a stick, tearing through the level. I held traps in place, guided them over the pitfalls and stonefall traps, blew aside webs to clear their passage. I afforded the cohort no such courtesy. When they advanced, walls and ceilings collapsed, legs and calves were torn in pits, exposed skin was bitten by spiders climbing down from their webs. All told, I consumed another ten rats even between the collapse and traps of the first floor.

The warlock clearly didn't care about the lives of his troops, he had entered my Dungeon with forty five ratfolk including himself, after sacrificing one hundred and thirty six vermin. In the Craftwind's tunnel Argent & the Granite Mob had accounted for ten warriors, the last of the Viridescent Scincids had claimed two more, the Cave Shark an elite, Kelter had melted five. Seventeen dead warriors and one fallen elite brought him to almost half strength and yet he continued; only on my second level - until recently my entrance hall. The sheer arrogance of it brought me to a boil, literally turning the water of my fountain to steam around me. Even discounting the bait he'd fed me the sheer hubris of losing almost a full half of his force before reaching my second level and still pressing on.

Yes, it was by far the most dangerous level of my domain to date, the second level was simplistic trapped, conceivably nothing more than neglect and the majority of the rest housing dormitories, farms and a library but he didn't know that.

And still he came. He had clearly bested at least one Dungeon and to judge by the level of mana it produced one much older than I was. I had no knowledge yet of how difficult a feat that was, though if my own youthful efforts were anything to go by it would have substantial. To think he thought he could simply waltz into my domain, tear through my defences and bind me as he had my brother with such confidence, that he could take such losses already and simply continue...

I didn't know how yet but I would make him pay for that, teach him a lesson he would never have the opportunity to learn.

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"Jump left at the end of the stairs, do not touch the two flagstones directly ahead." Came the voice of the Dungeon. Kelter followed Uller past the trapped floor, just as he had the others. Ahead the calls of his clansmen pointed out tripwires and other ploys for them to scamper past. Behind them came the squeaking and screeching of ratmen caught in all the traps they'd avoided, around them came the telltale grinding of the Dungeon at work. Limping he threw the bill into the air. "Here boss, copy this!"

There was a pregnant pause as it clattered to the stone. "It doesn't work like that."

Kelter rolled his eyes, recovering the weapon. Of course, the Dungeon could copy an entire creature and create his own from a single corpse but a metal stick was too much. Still, his tribesmen lined every slit and the Dungeon was up to no good. He collapsed inside the blockhouse with Uller, two Ochre Tilesmen scrambling to see to their wounds. Before he passed out from blood loss he let a relieved grin split his face. This was gonna be good.