Chapter 9
Raiding and Rebuilding
Bullin Goldtooth sat crouched in the mud, a sour frown on his face. The flecks of mud caking his armor spoke to him spending an afternoon crawling through the muck.
His bulbous frame stood out among the fallen trees and other detritus of the swamp, on the count of both being huge for a dwarf, and his dark blue skin. For that exact reason, he preferred using invisibility magic for dungeon runs, but he was pressed for time. With both Ushan and Varren breathing down his neck, he couldn’t afford to be careful.
Compared to being visible and vulnerable, the boring nature of the preparation was even more grating. Scouting a dungeon was never a challenge. That’s why he preferred to let some useless underling do it. Then, he would rush in and claim the rewards for himself with a rotten smile on his lips.
Grumbled dwarfish insults blew from his mouth into the wind, dying in silence. It was better this way, he could complain in peace, or at least without fear of some peon snitching on him.
Even as he could sense the various undead forms hiding in the mud, he wasn’t concerned. He didn’t need to worry about being attacked out here in the swamps surrounding the Tombs, but there was another problem he had to be concerned about time.
Training with June had eaten up a lot of his time, and his usual gathering of resources had been severely impacted. He had orders to fill, and precious little time to complete them—and there was always something more. What the Tombs and Sharth’ax want, they get. And over the last few weeks, their plans had accelerated in ways he couldn’t have predicted.
Rattling himself from his musings, Bullin yanked himself up from the mud as a tiny undead form trundled its way over to him.
“Time to see what you’re made of,“ Bullin thought, as he glanced down at the undead standing next to him.
A tiny undead kobold stood like a statue in the mud beside him. Its yellow eyes thrummed faintly with magical light, but up close, it looked like nothing more than a thin illusion. The kobold’s greying red skin hung loosely in patches, sagging from dusty bones. Its entire frame appeared distended and warped, as if someone had cobbled it together from various parts.
With a verbal command, a snarling horde of decayed scales launched themselves towards the entrance of the nascent dungeon.
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Even in the few quiet days I’ve had since my recent skirmish with those weird adventurers, I’ve been struggling. Mana has been weirdly a lot more sparse than I’m used to. The latent energy around the swamp seems to get pulled in many directions. I feel as though I’m a smaller, starving animal competing with much larger prey. I’ve even had to take to cutting back on creating new minions or expanding my dungeon to stockpile Mana Focuses for future use.
At least one thing had gone well, and that was my plant-based companions. Their sight is breathtaking, a mesmerizing display of nature’s power. The vibrant green vines snake their way across my dungeon’s walls, creating a living tapestry that seems to pulse with vile energy.
Each vine is adorned with an abundance of flowers, their petals in various shades of midnight black, like drops of shadow against the lush green backdrop. The black flowers emit an eerie glow, casting long, haunting shadows that dance on the ground. The air is thick with a heady, intoxicating scent, a mix of sweet floral notes and a hint of something sinister lurking beneath. But amidst the beauty, a sense of foreboding hangs in the air. It is as if the very essence of malice emanates from my wonderful, poisonous flowers.
Yet, despite the sinister aura, there is a strange allure to it all. The juxtaposition of beauty and danger creates a captivating enchantment that is hard to resist. It is a reminder that even in the darkest corners, life can thrive, albeit in its most enigmatic and perilous form. In this space, my creations stand as a testament to resilience, a distillation of my power. Their presence offers solace and comfort, even amid the shadows.
Sadly, I can’t spend all day admiring my creations. Another day, another challenge. I had just finished a fresh round of Mana Worms amid improvements to my dungeon, when things go from annoying to outright infuriating.
A deafening wail rings out within my mind, shaking me out of my thoughts like a quake. In contrast to the pounding alarm from the last attack, this new sound felt like a giant explosive shockwave. The mind-shattering flood of input is enough to completely swallow my attention, and I rouse my minions to prepare for the coming assault.
The first thing I notice is how close the source is, somehow, a grouping of undead managed to sneak up on my dungeon.
And then I find the source of the thunderous alarm, a true monster. It’s not the tiny undead kobolds that terrify me, it’s the mountain of muscle and mana casually striding into my dungeon. But unlike the ever-expanding sense of dread I got from that giant obsidian avatar of death, this thing is so much more jovial, almost casual.
The element that most immediately jumps out at me is the lack of glassy eyes. Its deep-blue skin defined this monster’s massive frame much more than any other detail. Fear bloomed in the back of my mind, unsure of how to respond to this looming threat—if it even was one.
I have one option to check him out—Mana Sense. Flashing my sight over to check his mana, I’m stunned by the swirl of power around it. This dwarf is positively soaked in a self-feeding spiral of Death Mana. Claw-like threads of the deepest black mana I’ve ever seen swirl around its form, feeding back in on itself before disappearing into its rotund gut.
But I can’t focus on the dwarf and his threatening form for long. I shift my attention to my minions as they battle the horde of undead.
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My snakes swarm in like a tide of vengeful death. Their mouths dripping with mana-enriched venom elicit quite a disgusting visage, but the kobolds are unflinching in their advance. Much like the undead moles I had tackled in the past, these kobolds were slow and predictable. However, that doesn’t make things easy. My snakes continually strike at the nearest kobold, to seemingly minimal effect. Poisoned fangs keep tearing into them, but they just keep coming.
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The grey horde of undeath rolled over the battle-hardened defenders like a wave over rocks, splattering the essence of their magic throughout the space. The air was thick with the stench of decay, mingling with a metallic tang of magical blood and venom. Each time a fang sunk into the body of its target, dust and ichor splattered across the dirt. And each strike of a warped bone protrusion against the alabaster serpents sent their cobalt essence spewing across the floor.
The dwarf watched from the entrance, his fingers dancing over the gilded hammer hanging unused at his side. Purple runes flittering across its surface flashed as he fed a steady stream of mana into the weapon. The taste of a battle so close made his entire being sing, but Bullin knew he had a job to do.
Bullin could easily squash these kinds of dungeons, but he found it a lot more useful to understand them, then exploit them.
These Tier 1 Dungeons were usually very predictable. Less like a structured and self-sustaining experience, and more like a wild animal hunting for its next meal. Interacting with these dungeons was pretty pointless, but this one looked different.
Determined, the dwarf sauntered down the crude steps ahead, into the dungeon below. And right away, things were evidently different here. Even without surveying the lines of magic, he could sense an order to this dungeon he didn’t expect. His eyes nearly glowed with delight at the prospect of untold power and a new ally.
As he watched the minions of this new dungeon tear into the pathetic undead kobolds, everything about them was more than a little unexpected. The undead kobolds were tougher and didn’t scare easy, but they had one fatal flaw—being really dumb. And it looked like this dungeon was ruthlessly exploiting that stupidity. Usually, dungeon minions didn’t fight with any sense of reason or tactics. But as he watched the serpents continually bait his kobolds into charging forward, his curiosity spiked.
Bullin gave himself over entirely to the tides of Mana flowing within his Core, and let the magic wash over his sight. His eyes glowed brightly against the dark stone, sweeping over the flows of magic in the space, taking in their splendor.
The refined threads of magical energy suffusing the space were beautiful kaleidoscopes of color. As the threads danced and intertwined, they emitted a soft, ethereal glow. The air was filled with a melodic hum, as if the energy itself was singing a celestial tune. The sweet scent of enchantment wafted through the space, tingling the senses. Standing amidst this vibrant tapestry of colors, Bullin couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe and wonder, as if being embraced by pure magic.
The dungeon seemed alive with an otherworldly energy as glimmering emerald light cascaded through the air. The sound of gentle rustling vines created a soothing melody, helping to add a wistful song to the dance between the minions and magic. Soft sapphire light bounced around the space, searching for a cozy place to settle. Taking in the surrounding area of the dungeon, Bullin was happy to be greeted by a detailed overview of the Dungeon’s stats and other elements. Bullin silently thanked Yugul for the insights granted, before returning his mind to the task at hand.
One thing stood out to him above the details about Spawners and other things he’d seen before: the Cracked Rudimentary Core Shard that defined the Dungeon’s power source. He knew from experience that this was something common in Tier 2 Dungeons, not Tier 1 like this basic one.
Driven by curiosity, Bullin decided he wanted to talk with the dungeon, but that meant he had to get his hands a bit dirty.
Runes flared to life on his dark leather boots before he sprang into action. With surprising speed, the dwarf’s rotund frame blitzed across the stone floor, kicking up dust and pebbles as he moved. Ducking and twisting, he rolled through the entry deeper into the dungeon, dodging the trap he’d spotted over the archway. His heavy frame slammed into the rocky floor on the other side, rolling to his feet with ease. The impact resounded off the walls with a massive crash.
With a barely perceptible flourish of speed, the dwarf let a ball of concentrated magic fly, detonating in the mass of still-battling minions and undead.
In the next instant, he closed the distance between the entrance and back wall of the dungeon with another burst of speed. He stopped just short of the wall containing the Core itself. A meaty gloved hand hovered over the glowing Core for a moment before gasping it firmly. In that moment, magic sprinted down his arm, coating the tiny stone in a bright blue light.
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One moment, my minions are busy trying to lure the kobolds under my stone fall trap, and then the next instant everything changes. Before I can even react, this mountain of muscle and magic has seemingly teleported into my dungeon’s deepest depths. All I see before he’s standing directly in front of my physical form is a flaring swirl of mana around his body. Another flash blots out my vision for a moment in a storm of blue and black light.
My sight returns in the next moment, but something is very different, it almost feels as if another presence is watching over me. An overbearing anxiety swarms into my mind, like a thousand eyes peering into every aspect of my being. Being laid bare by such an intrusive presence is made doubly worse because I feel restrained, trapped with whatever is doing this within my mind.
As I come to, I note that both my minions and the undead kobolds have completely disappeared. The only lingering clue of their presence is latent strands of death and water mana floating about my dungeon. A voice interrupts my thoughts before I can even figure out what happened.
“Well, hello there, lil’ guy…“ came a terse and rough voice within my mind.
My shock at being invaded battles with my sense of curiosity for an instant, before my panic overwhelms any shred of reason. “Who in the name of the gods are you?“ I blurt out.
A chuckle snaked its way into my mind again, “Bullin Goldtooth’s the name,“ said the ethereal voice with a jovial tone. “And you, my magic little friend, are quite the surprise.“
My confusion at yet more vague introductions threatens to boil over, but I know enough to know when I’m outmatched.
“What did you do to my minions?“ I ask, pushing down the bile-like feeling of contempt building within.
A sinister smile spreads across his face, revealing rotted teeth in a blackened maw of a mouth, “I got rid of them. I just wanted to see how you responded,“ he said before continuing in a quizzical tone. “You’re the first new dungeon in this area in quite a while, and the first one that’s avoided going fully wild.“
I trigger my Dungeon overview and find nothing of a mention of a Wild Dungeon, so I make my confusion plain. “What are even talking about? What are you doing here?“
“Scouting you to see if ya’ gone lethal or not,“ came Bullin’s bored-sounding response immediately. “You’re a Tier 1 Dungeon, but you’ve got the makings of something more advanced, that’s very rare.“
The revelation of more details that had been kept from me made my vision burn red for a moment before I think better of a more angry outburst. This thing could destroy me with little more than a thought. “So, what exactly are you trying to find out?“ I ask, hopeful to glean more about who this monster is.
A huff escapes from his mouth as the dwarf speaks again. “I guess I just want to know if ya can be useful.“ As he says this, he’s turning away from the wall and pacing through my dungeon.
“Useful for what?“ I question as I realize something that should’ve been obvious from the start. If I had hands, I’d slap myself. The other Dungeon sending undead at me, and now this guy shows up doing the same thing. “Are you with that other dungeon?“
In response to my question, another toothy grin spreads across this invader’s face.