Pal Asmodium burned with anger. The cursed dungeon had taken from him, taken his only true friend, Hall. He kneeled before his dear friend’s gravestone, tears streaming from the dwarf’s eyes as he spoke.
“Ah... don’t know how, but ah will make the dungeon pay, this ah promise you, old friend.”
He kneeled there for a few more moments, reminiscing. He recalled when he was still slaving away in the mountain forge of his pa, how unfulfilling it was to just stay there in blistering heat, hammering away at his soul.
Hall saved him, opened his eyes to the wider world of Arvid, and introduced the dwarf to the concept of adventuring. Pall laughed and scoffed at the idea initially, after all, all he knew was the hammer and the forge. The idea that something more fun, and enjoyable existed outside the Ishrak Mountains seemed laughable.
It wasn’t until he went home and settled into his stone bed that he started to think about what Hall had said. Pal didn’t regret running away, he only regretted not spending enough time with Hall.
“I should’ve...I should’ve made more memories with you, brother.” He squeezed out, fist clenched tightly around his noble crest as rage and pain flowed through him like roaring tides.
“DAMIT! IT’S ALL MY FAULT! I SHOULD’VE SAID NO TO THE SPECIAL QUEST!”
Pal slammed his fist into the dirt repeatedly, smashing dirt and twigs into the air and onto his silken robe but he didn’t care, he only felt rage and regret. In the end, it was all for nothing, he got promoted to a noble, but the cost wasn’t worth it.
He had more than a thousand gold now, a last name, and the right to form a house but no friends to share these benefits with, Hall was gone, and no amount of riches could bring him back.
Rage burned within Pal’s mind, and unspeakable thoughts raced through that threatened to overwhelm him.
“I will see to it that the dungeon is burned to the ground, even if I end up dead in the process, this, I promise you, brother.”
If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
And with that, Pall got up and dusted off himself, he wiped the tears from his eyes, popped a health candy in his mouth, and felt energy rush through him, wiping away all his sadness and resentment.
He made his way out of the noble cemetery and back to the human town and into the newly opened portal. The world pivoted and he was suddenly back in Osborn, the very town that shifted his fate, but not in a good way.
He stepped onto the opulent stone tiles of the magi tower and a lone servant tensed as she saw him. She hurriedly ran over, bowed politely, and addressed him.
“Greetings, Sir Pal Asmodium, first of his name. I welcome you back on behalf of the Klaus Magi Tower. Please follow me, as the lone survivor of the first dungeon dive, the ruling noble house and some city officials would like to hear of your experience.”
Pal wasn’t in the mood to speak so the dwarf just nodded and followed the servant, she walked a few meters from the portal and took out a golden trinket which she crushed, light poured out of it and slammed into the wall, which morphed into a door that she stepped through.
When Pal stepped through, he was suddenly at the base of the towering magi tower, the servant awaited with a golden-trimmed steam carriage a distance away, Pall gazed around, taking in the world around him.
Towering stone walls had been erected in his absence and he could no longer see the cursed mountain that the dungeon was in. A flash of hate spilled out and his face transformed briefly before he controlled himself.
The gardens of the magi tower thrummed with life and magic and a dome of pure mana covered it and the growing city.
He took a deep, long breath and sighed, tension and hate washing away as he did. He made his way to the carriage and hopped in, hair standing on end as a wave of mana passed through the entire thing before it took to the air.
The world blurred before him as the thing gained speed, and before Pall knew it, he was flying over the mansion of the house of brimstone. It was massive, at least five stories high, made with fiery red bricks and wood.
The front was filled with exotic trees all lined out to mimic the shape of a burning flame, and the back was dominated by a large pool filled with red water that thrummed with mana that Pall could feel even from here.
“Holy iron, just how rich are these nobles?”
He refused to think of a number, as it might just drive him mad. His carriage landed smoothly, and he was promptly escorted by five guards armed to the teeth with grade-one enchanted weapons and armor.
He followed them through a series of rooms, all more opulent and extravagant than the last until he reached a massive double door with five guards stationed at it. After an unnecessarily long wait and security check he was escorted inside.
The room was beautiful, a massive and ornate painting of a lady clad in beautiful silk robes dancing on the sea gracefully, light filtered in from clear blue glass and reflected off the large and intricate mana crystals at the center of a large and ornate golden trimmed wooden table.
At the back of the table was a man, sitting gracefully on the largest and most ornate chair in the room, his hair bright and red as a burning flame, his eyes deep and deadly. Pal’s breath was caught in his throat as he stared at the monster before him.
He smiled, showing his unnaturally sharp teeth, his smile was that of a predator, one that was toying with his prey.
Beads of sweat ran down Pal’s back, who was this man?
“Welcome, I am Asmuth Brimstone, patriarch of the Brimstone family, we have much to discuss.”