He found himself trussed up like a thanks giving turkey on some kind of makeshift stretcher being dragged through the dark by what looked like moving boulders in the shifting light. So first thing on his check list was to check it wasn’t a dream. Which as a lucid dreamer knew was fairly straightforward.
Looking down at the bindings that were holding his left arm in place. He focused intently on the bindings trying to hold the image of them in his mind. He was glad to find that this was indeed possible despite the darkness of the cave. Elven eyesight was evidently a thing. He could pick out the little fibres in the crappy rope they had used.
Now he looked away then back again to find everything looked just the same as before. Doing it a couple of times more he concluded it was not a dream. If it were his thoughts would effect his surroundings and nothing would stay the same. It was easiest to tell these changes if it was something detailed and clear like a birthday card or something. Which if it was a dream when you looked again, would say something completely different. Having found this was some kind of new reality. Michael realised he would actually have to take the situation he found himself in a bit seriously.
Scanning his surroundings properly this time he saw what appear to be fist gang members? There were seven from my count, unless some were off scouting or something. Probably some looking for Sal at least as she does not appear to be here. Though it was hard to tell as he couldn’t look behind him currently.
Wriggling he found the bindings were tight as hell and very secure as he could feel a slight numbness in his arms and legs. But strangely physically over all he felt ok. Which was weird hadn’t John, God rest his soul, just died?
He had a health potion administered to heal him up a bit. But from John’s memories they were just a concoction of local herbs etc not some insta heal. Strange. Still no complaints there.
He had no stats that he could see to help verify his actual condition but just went with his new scooped up senses. His elven heritage helped him note that this place quite literally smelt like shit. Which made perfect sense it was a bat infested cave system.
Unable to immediately figure a way out of his current predicament, Michael went back to the system message he had received.
Do I want to be a Dungeon core? Or some such. Not the most attractive of propositions as if he did so he would no doubt be stuck in situ forever in this hellhole. Leaving him unable to find out what was going on in the world, with the looky-likey of Elli. And all the other interesting stuff that this world had to offer would be off limits too. No that would really suck. So a resounding no, thought Michael.
However, this slight pause in time, seemed to make whoever he was communicating with assume he was still making a decision. A true salesman, evidently. And there came a peculiar voice from nowhere and everywhere at the same time.
Could I perhaps avail Sir of the relative benefits that procuring, such a contract would afford him? I cannot offer you full ownership despite being lacking thereof, of an owner that is. But I can offer you a contract which will tie myself to you thus allowing you to make full use of this dungeon core in its entirety.
Hilarious! Thought Michael, if I hadn’t thought so already. This would have sealed the deal. Being stuck with this guy for an eternity. No thanks. The guy though proceeded to continue his pitch.
Entering into a contract at this moment would reward, if I may say, Sir handsomely. For as sole soul (no pun intended I can assure you) you would due to your seniority over other contractees essentially have full administrative rights.
The owner of the voice thought though the previous occupant of the core had not been impressed by such things, that it was surely worth a try. As he remembered the little training he had received had pressed home the point again and again that a contract with a Dungeon Core would be a great boon to any life form nearing death.
Who exactly are you? Or should I say where did you originate from? Said Michael slightly intrigued as to what the hell was going on. According to John’s stolen memories dungeons had long ago been superseded by towers, which themselves were now condemned to history.
Who are you and what have you done with my wife? Michael was tempted to ask but remembered no matter how farcical the situation seemed it was in fact a reality and not a dream.
So he internally harrumphed. To Michael it was like the tutorial at the start of a game, where you had to wade through an inordinate amount of cutscenes and/or text before you could actually get started on your adventure and any ass kicking proper the game offered would finally begin. But painfully there was no ability to jack hammer the enter key or mouse button to get past this stage.
Meanwhile Gves the entity in question was choosing to skirt over the question of who he was. As it was disorientating for someone to be asking about his background. On the one hand it showed this potential master was of a better pedigree than the last, the dragon. As it was the norm to enquire into someone’s background and to ask for references before hiring someone even short term. But on the other hand it reminded Gves that he had once lived another life in another world. Something that he had consigned to the waste paper basket, long ago. Also Gves was certain beyond any salient doubt that all his previous employers were dead and buried at least five hundred or so years prior.
*uhhmm* I am the dungeon host, senior administrator and in house expert on all matters pertaining to Dungeon Core 13205 v2.0
Not getting the answer at all that he wanted, Michael decided to just press on. After all, he could question this entity further if and when he acquired supervisory rights over them.
Michael now started to have a hunch though that he could place that outdated phraseology. And so feeling like the detective out of some who dunnit asked.
Were you ever at the New Oxford and Cambridge club, off St James?
I’m sorry to say I never had a master that frequented said establishment, though of course it is well known and is I understand held in high repute.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Gottcha! Thought Michael following up with
So how long have you been a gentleman’s gentleman exactly?
At this Gves thought he best come clean, as one, he was very good at said process and two he had rather taken a liking to this potential master, or should he say his elven blood.
Well Sir, Sixteen years in London and Six hundred and twelve here, so that’s 628 years in total. Quite a respectable term of service I’m sure you’d agree. Gves said smoothly.
And what happened to the previous owner of the Dungeon Core?
Ah that is indeed a mystery Sir to be honest I can’t really say, one moment he was here the next gone. Rather an anomaly. But I have to say it seems fated now our paths have met.
Gves indeed had no recollection whatsoever as to what had happened to the core’s previous owner. One second he was there the next there was a slight malfunction to the core as happened from time to time. And when awareness came back again to Gves there was merely another update logged by the system. But this happening at the exact same time as the mortal dying and this new potential master appearing could not have been better timed. Besides good riddens to him thought Gves.
Michael had come to a similar conclusion about things being fated. To put it simply too many coincidences from the get go. It could only mean one thing. Michael had been summoned. As to the reason. Well hopefully by the end of the tutorial he would have some idea. But regardless he needed to ask one more question.
Would the dungeon core have to remain here in situ? Or could I for instance just carry it around? As it would appear that the person who’s body I am now inhabiting needs to rescue, his father, mother and sister who have all strayed, potentially in different directions and to different locations in this world.
Gves understanding that was clearly a deal breaker, pondered for a moment. A Dungeon Core being nestled a few hundred metres or even kilometres within a nice solid mountain of pure granite or better, was the standard way of ensuring its survival. But and Gves felt this to be the crux of the matter. Did it have to be this way?
Also Gves having found himself deposited for so many centuries in this subterranean lair, had had little chance for advancement and really little to do. He had found out early on that he did not even need to eat or sleep, leaving him with an inordinate amount of spare time.
He had never so much as seen the surface of this new world he dwelt in. And although it was the antithesis of his nature to complain of his lot in life he would find it nigh impossible to recommend his situation up till now. But just perhaps it seemed he was being offered an escape or at least a little well earned vacation time.
In addition, Gves had heard so much about adventurers or rather listened in on their conversations. They had always been coming and going into his dungeon, milling about killing, looting and sometimes on occasion dying (Which was a fact he pushed to one side). But mostly they seemed to be having a jolly time and talked fondly of their world and their exploits outside the dungeon. Could he mayhap be one too? An adventurer. He liked the sound of that. Could he then see the wide open vistas of this world and adventure too?
Gves was about to make a decision that may on the surface have seemed reckless. But recklessness was not in his nature as a custodian of core v2.0. And he was most pragmatically drawn to his final conclusion due to one other factor – the potential candidate’s blood. The rules dictated that he could only take the blood from a neutral life form if they were dead. Most inconveniently however, he had only been able to sample it for a second. Before the owner of the mysteriously came back to life. He could only liken it to a Chateau Latife Rothschild of bloods. It was indeed an exceptional find and he must in the interests of the core acquire some more. And so without any further ado he announced his intentions.
Sir, has cut to the core of the matter again (no pun intended). That would be the normal way of doing things but who is to say we have to do anything the normal way! And may I commiserate on your apparent carelessness with you relatives. Gves said feeling a strange emotion bubble up inside him. It was excitement. An emotion with a strange yet refreshing bouquet.
If Michael could just carry the core around in his pocket and more importantly also could just tell the thing to shut up when needed. There seemed no downside at all.
Well if that’s the case I see no reason why not to form a contract with you or rather the core.
Excellent, excellent! If you’d just be so kind as to spare a little more of that precious elven blood, to confirm the contract. All formalities will be concluded satisfactorily, Sir.
New messages then popped up before his eyes:
[Contract accepted. Core 13205 v2.0 Update 503. Booting…]
[Boot successful. Logging in to system Gves (Gnome valet ergonomic services) as administrator]
So some kind of computer system Michael noted. Something to think about later.
*Ahem* if Sir will allow me it would be might great pleasure and might indeed prove judicious for me to quote to you the first hundred few choicer pages from the dungeon core User Manual. To circumvent any mishaps or misunderstandings as it were.
Gves having had no reading matter except for the User Manual for the past six hundred years, felt himself more than an adept at answering any questions his new master might have.
Maybe, shortly Gves but first I have a few matters to sort out. He really didn’t want the guy to go droning on making him fall asleep and miss his own death at the hands of the clansmen.
Well so far this game seemed a bit retro, no fancy character creation screen, no stats and no spells as yet. But at least Michael decided he could still do what he always did to make his mark on this new RPG world – to make a name for himself, as it were. As was his habit and tradition he would try and think up the corniest phrase he could for his in game name, WhoDat or Hellyeah? No he’d thought of something altogether more suitable.
From here in he would be known simply as Jack.
--
Jack opened his eyes again to check he wasn’t about to be killed, to find things not much changed, the view was the same. Some gigantic brutes wrestling him like the worst toboggan team ever through mud and slurry, that didn’t smell any better the second time around.
It was only, as he saw now that, due to the tightness of the spaces their progress had been slowed. Otherwise, Jack might have already have been dealt with one way or another.
Um due to the fact that the core’s domain is currently within your body and not much larger than the end of your little finger there are currently no skills that can be used without accidentally causing your imminent death. As such, I would suggest Sir retrieves the core from his body. Said Gves deciding to give some basic information regardless of whether his new master wanted it or not.
At least they could plan together using telepathy thought Jack. It would avoid the goons knowing their plans.
How fast exactly can you move? Once out of my body?
Probably quite fast, if nothing impedes the core. If however there is earth or rock then considerably slower. What did Sir have in mind?
Jack wriggled a bit to see if he had much motion in his upper body. This caused him to think again about his first idea. If he tried to spit out the core, it was possible that he would go the way of John, bringing this adventure to a rather abrupt end. Or the core might end up on the floor of the cave, far behind him making it useless. So he would need to coordinate with Gves and wait for the right moment to act. How easy is it for you to move through a human body? Without causing injury?
It will be tricky to manoeuvre without causing your body damage but far from impossible. If Sir allows me sufficient time, I think I can manage it within about ten minutes.
Ok, if you could get onto that right away, Gves.
Jack would have to just bid his time, while Gves proceeded. Maybe he could spar a little time to try and hack into whatever computer system operated the core. As this would certainly take his mind off the feeling of the core slowly making its way through his insides. Definitely not an appropriate time to disturb that guy Gves anyway.