-[Chapter 014]-
When Basil arrived to deliver his briefing he was dressed in his ceremonial garb. It was a curious set of coal black clothes, stitched together with gold threads. His gown most resembled the robes of a wealthy mage. They were affixed with magical medallions and charms galore, but the cloth was sewn in such a way as to be tight-fitting around the arms and legs. Unlike the uniforms that Guild operatives would wear on such formal occasions, Basil’s garb held not a single reference to him being part of the organization. The only insignia that he brandished was the icon of his House—the clutched fist of a demon cast in silver and surrounded by a golden halo.
The dungeon keeper took his place at the head of his household. From his elevated platform at the front of the room Basil cast his stern gaze over the small crowd of his most trusted minions, counting the attendees to make sure that no one important was missing.
Looking from left to right there was Scarlet and Schwartz, the left and right hand of the of the dungeon keeper respectively. They sat on the opposite sides of the auditorium and did their best to ignore the presence of the other. The red armor clad all-female paladins of Scarlet sat with their backs straight and their dutiful gazes fixed on the dungeon keeper, while the rangers of Schwartz, dressed in black leather armor, loomed in their seats like hunters in ambush—ready to spring forth at a moment’s notice.
Chronos and his wife Gaia sat between these two groups. At a glance the elderly couple seemed like a strange pairing. Chronos wore his black suit while Gaia—who looked very much like the stereotype of a wizened crone—was dressed in all the colors of autumn. Her clothes were vibrant, yet earthly in their tone. The expression of her husband was stern and patient, while she herself didn’t seem to have a care in the world.
Several other commanders and overseers took part in the meeting, representing the mage circles, engineering units and the Mansion’s custodial staff, but they were seated at the back of the room and were not expected to do more than listen in on the briefing. The only people of any importance that were missing were Drum and Elnora. The old dwarf no longer had any business remaining in the Mansion and had elected to take his leave, while the succubus was not a part of the Doom household proper, and as such was not allowed to participate in their gatherings.
Lord Doom gestured for the obsidian knights to leave the room, which they promptly did, closing the doors behind them. Locks turned and the doorframes flashed with blue light. With the entrances to the auditorium locked by spell and key, Basil could now reveal his plans and inform his minions of the things that were to come. But first, the dungeon keeper had to address the ongoing conquest of Empire Solar.
“I assume that our forces have been issued the order to converge on the dungeon core?” he asked to the audience in general. “Have all the mission critical Guild assets been recalled? How long before we can depart this world?”
Both Scarlet and Schwartz stood up at the same time, eager to give their reports. Neither demanded such a privilege from their master outright, instead electing to wait for his permission to speak.
Basil was all too familiar with their quarrelsome nature and moved to deescalate the situation. “We will go through the audience clockwise this time,” he said. “From left to right—Scarlet, please begin.”
Schwartz complied with his master’s decision and settled back into his seat, waiting for his turn to speak.
Scarlet seemed to revel in her petty victory and delivered her report with a slight grin. “The command staff and Guild support elements have all been recalled. The local forces that participated in the storming of the capital have all been left suitably disorganized. The rearguard we left behind is already reporting on a growing number of incidents among the leaders. They have begun to assert their dominance in an effort to fill the void left by our sudden departure. I estimate a high possibility that the monsters of this world will soon scatter, following a period of bloody infighting. I predict a complete loss of cohesion and the final collapse of our armies within two months’ time.”
“I am pleased to hear that,” Basil said as he gestured for Scarlet to sit back down. “We need to make sure that no one creature can rise to rally the forces that we leave behind.”
He then turned to Schwartz. “Have your rangers go down the list of priority targets and kill off any who seem like they could fill that leadership role. We cannot afford to leave a second wave of carnage washing over this world. That would be unprofessional.”
Schwartz bowed his head in agreement. “It will be done, My Lord,” he said. “We have a long list to run down this time, so I will require at least three days to carry out the assassinations.”
“Then you shall have them,” Basil said. “This world has suffered enough. We will leave it to heal, not to burn in perpetuity.”
Schwartz bowed his head. “Understood, My Lord. As for the Guild assets…” he said. “I have issued the warning order for our imminent departure. As per the Guild rules, all parties, regardless of affiliation, will be provided access to our teleportation facilities for the next 72 hours, beginning at midnight. Anyone still on this world after the deadline will have to make for the Guild contingency site in the mountains to the south of the capital city—I have included the coordinates in my latest status report and copies have been issued to our agents out in the field.
“The Guild site will operate for another week following our planned departure, but after that this world will be cut off from access to the Guild’s communal teleportation network. We are expecting the arrival of two special operations brigades from the Guild’s 11th Guard’s Marine Division. They will take over the task of monitoring the remnant forces of Empire Soar and deal with the stragglers as they begin to regroup.”
“So, it’s cleanup operations as usual,” Basil summarized. “Is there anything else that I should be informed about?”
“That would be all,” Schwartz said.
The dungeon keeper next turned his attention to Chronos and Gaia. The elderly couple had been patiently waiting for their turn to speak.
“Is the dungeon ready for the jump?” Basil asked.
Chronos stood up to deliver his report. “The Mansion is operating at peak performance,” he said. “Drum’s visit gave us an opportunity to work out some of the kinks with the engine room. It will be some time before we can fully assess the change in performance, but I trust that our mechanics will work out any new issues, should they arise. Overall, I would say that we are ready for the jump whenever you give the order.
“There is, however, the small issue with the integration of the new dungeon core,” he added.
“What’s wrong with it?” Basil asked.
Chronos scratched his head. “Well, as far as I can tell, it is working as intended when it comes to powering the dungeon outside the Mansion. But when I tried to tap into it to shore up the Mansion’s power supply, I couldn’t quite get the connection established. It would seem that whatever crazy invention of Drum’s is at work disguising the core from outside observers has also rendered it at least partially hidden to the Mansion’s systems.”
“Do we need the extra energy of the core to power our facilities at this time?” Basil asked.
“No,” Chronos answered, “at present consumption rates we can keep the Mansion fully operational without sacrificing any additional resources. Our stockpiles of arcane ingredients will be more than enough to fuel the reactor core, should the need arise. The lifeblood will flow uninterrupted.”
At this moment Gaia stood up to chime in on their conversation. “If I may,” she said and looked to Basil with her narrow eyes, “the gardens are in full bloom at this time of the year. The fruits of our labor are coming in nicely. Hmm… yes. We will have our energy for now. But when the winter comes… I am concerned. Maybe we should not depart this world so quickly. Much of what we looted from the stores of Empire Solar has not yet made its way over to the Dungeon’s vaults.”
Scarlet and Schwartz both gave the old crone concerned looks. They seemed visibly uncomfortable with her obvious attempt at stalling.
“Do not worry, Gaia,” Basil said, “we will make sure to establish a strong foothold on a new world by the end of the month. I intend to launch a new invasion as soon as the Guild has given me the name of our next target. You need not worry about our supply stores—I will keep your cycle going uninterrupted.”
The old crone smiled, revealing all of her six teeth. “Good. Then I can retire to my winter quarters with my mind at peace. Oh, I do so dream of spring already.” She wrung her hands. “My joints are killing me.”
Chronos and Gaia settled back into their seats. The old butler kissed his wife on the forehead. “I will be waiting for your return.”
“Are there any other outstanding issues?” Basil asked. “Anything that I should be made aware of concerning our operations on this world? No? Alright then!”
Basil pressed his fingers together in a subtle, but an uncharacteristic show of anxiety for the dungeon keeper. Once he was sure that he had the full and undivided attention of all of his subjects he continued.
“The dungeon will depart this world by the end of the week,” he said. “With this, I declare our goals on this world accomplished. The old cycle has been made complete and we welcome the dawn of the new one.”
The minions all nodded in agreement.
“But I have decided not to embark on the next purge right away,” Basil said. “I have… chosen a different path forward. Some of you might not agree with what I am about to tell you, but know that I have long pondered my decision on this and that it is final. I will now reveal to you my intentions not to debate them, but for your to make peace with them.
“Yesterday I received a letter from Admiral Razazil,” he said. “The Old Admiral has informed me that his search for my missing father has finally born tangible results.” Basil’s stern gaze prowled across the room in search of dissenting expressions, but, surprisingly, found none so far.
“Could it really be true?” Gaia asked. “Has the old Sea Dragon found the trail of your father?”
Basil shook his head in denial. “Unfortunately, no—nothing that concrete, at least. The circumstances of his disappearance elude us still. But Razazil has informed me that he is currently in the possession of a clue as to where we might begin our search… and that he would only deign to discuss it with me in person. So I take it that he has uncovered something substantial or, at the very least, dangerous. In his letter he expressed his concern for his and our safety.”
The top four minions of House Doom all exchanged clandestine looks. There was a hint of guilt in their eyes, but they dared not turn them upon Basil, lest it be revealed.
The dungeon keeper continued. “In light of this, I have decided that we should pay him a visit,” Basil declared. “Once our business on this world is concluded and the core has slipped the bonds of earth, we will depart for our next target. Since we are stuck on this world for a few days longer, I intend to use the time for a quick trip to the Nine Hells. Officially, it will be to deliver my mission reports and to turn in my quests with the Guild—an affair that is long overdue at any rate, so it should not arouse any suspicions. In reality, the purpose of my visit will be to hold an audience with the Admiral in Port Malus.”
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Basil went on calling the roles for the mission. “Schwartz will travel there ahead of us to meet with the Admiral and arrange the meeting. Once on site, you will be in charge of protecting the Admiral until we depart his company. Is that clear?” he asked.
“No harm will come to the Admiral under my watch,” Schwartz confirmed.
Basil nodded and turned his head to address Scarlet. “You will be in charge of my security while in the Nine. The rangers will be placed under your command, so I expect you to treat them as your own until we return home. Do either of you object to this arrangement?”
The two commanders kept silent.
With the issues of pride and indignation among his forces now suppressed, the dungeon keeper continued. “We will infiltrate the outer districts of the 9th level of Hell,” Basil explained. “Once on the ground, we will make contact with one of Admiral’s ships—he will be informed of our imminent arrival by Schwartz a few hours earlier—and await pickup. If all goes well, we should be in an out of Port Malus within a few hours. After that we will travel to the Guild Headquarters in the 9th Hell where I shall meet with the Lord Administrator Zaharion. He will be made aware of my intention to visit him in person right after this briefing. My request for an audience will arrive suitably late, so as not to hint at anything beyond a passing fancy—me giving him the time of day. Elnora has provided me with a secondary excuse for the visit.”
“Is Elnora going to accompany us on the trip?” Chronos asked. “She remains a Guild operative, My Lord. The meeting with Razazil… Is it wise to involve her?”
“You will all be sworn to secrecy on this matter before departing for the Nine Hells,” Basil explained. “I fear not her betraying us. Furthermore, I suspect that she will be instrumental in my plans going forward, so I intend to bring her into the fold one step at a time. While the dangers of her visiting the more unstable parts of the Nine are not lost on me, this will serve as a test of her loyalty and I don’t see another opportunity like this one coming up soon.
“Besides, it is unlikely that we will encounter any significant challenge during our visit,” Basil said. The dungeon keeper pondered his words. “Well, since we will be dipping into Port Malus for a while, I believe that a heavy escort will be warranted. So yes, we will be taking Elnora with us, but I expect that we will be able to keep her from any harm.”
That last declaration didn’t go down that well with Basil’s minions.
“With all due respect, My Lord,” Scarlet said. “We can’t guarantee the safety of a level 23 demon in the lawless streets of the outer districts. She doesn’t have the endurance to withstand a serious attempt on her life. High tier magic will tear her to shreds in seconds.”
For once Schwartz was nodding along in support of his opposite number. “If you have future plans involving her then this mission would place her in unnecessary danger,” he said. “Nothing that she has faced on this world compares to the outer districts of the Nine.”
“I understand your concerns, but we can’t coddle our minions forever,” Basil said. “Am I to understand that you cannot take on this task? Of what use to me are guardians that cannot protect a single delicate individual?” he asked. “Do you refuse the mission?”
The two warriors kept silent. Their pride would not allow them to deny the dungeon keeper’s request, especially in the presence of the other.
Chronos took the opportunity to speak up. “The issue of her low power level notwithstanding, I can’t help but ask if it is wise to bring along an outsider to any meeting concerning your father’s fate. Whatever information Razazil wished to pass on to you cannot possibly be intended for the ears of a Guild operative. Remember, My Lord, Elnora serves the Guild first; you second.”
“You have a point there,” Basil admitted. “While I intend to bring her along to Port Malus, Elnora will not be made privy to the details of our visit. The meeting with the Admiral is only the first step in my plan and she needs to know just her part in it. Likewise, I shall reveal it to you play-by-play as the situation develops. We don’t yet know what Razazil has discovered, so there is no need to overplay our hand this early.”
“And what are your plans for the succubus, exactly?” Scarlet asked.
“To be my grey cardinal going forward,” Basil replied. “She will be instrumental in providing plausible deniability for our actions, should we ever need to keep the Guild’s eyes blinded.
“I want you all to understand that while I do intend to take on the conquest of new world as soon as possible, it is not my intention to actually lead it myself. Through the apprenticeship program I have glimpsed an opportunity to pursue my own goals without drawing too much attention from the Guild’s observers. That is where Elnora comes in.
“You see, not only have I been training her as my apprentice, as per the request of the Guild, but I have actually gone leaps and bounds beyond that. Over the past six months I have established a working rapport with her that has allowed me to subtly guide her towards my future goals. She has proven herself at once capable and curious enough to play a part in my plans for this House going forward. That is why I will bring her along to meet the Admiral. If I want to be able to trust her, she must be made to trust me completely.”
“Oh, I have a feeling that she already does,” Scarlet mumbled.
Basil took one long look around the room. “Now, have I explained our next move in sufficient detail, or did you have any questions?”
Having received none, the dungeon keeper moved on to summarize his plans: “Tomorrow we will travel to the Nine Hells to meet with Razazil. Once I have heard what he has to say, I will make clear my decision on what we shall do next. If he truly has found something of worth, I intend to pursue it, but not before covering our tracks—do not fear, for I have the security of our House foremost in mind. We will also be paying the Guild a visit, if nothing else, to pick up our next target.
“Looking ahead, it is the conversation with Razazil that concerns me most, but we will cross that bridge when we get to it. According to him there is some trouble brewing in the Nine, but it does not really involve us, so we should strive to be in and out of there as quickly as possible.”
The auditorium kept silent for a while, but Chronos did come up with one last question.
“What about the twins?” he asked. “What would you have us do with them?”
Basil shrugged. “We will find a use for them sooner or later,” he said. “If they survive the ritual of binding, I expect to bring them along on future conquests as advisors. They are a curiosity to be sure, but not important to my plans in the long run.”
The dungeon keeper looked to Scarlet and Schwartz. “Should the twins express a desire to join the ranks of your societies, I will not object to it. If we can turn them into acolytes or even thin-bloods then, at the very least, the cost of summoning them will be nullified to some extent. While we can justify casting the shadow clone ritual for academic reasons, it is rather wasteful to spend the soul of a dragon to summon a poor imitation of any kith, no matter how impressive. Let alone two average individuals… ”
“While they accepted the deal, I feel that they might harbor some strong opinions about us,” Schwartz remarked. “These are ex-zealots we are talking about, My Lord.”
“Be that as it may,” Basil continued, “I have no doubt that you all will be able to keep them from causing any problems around the Mansion. They seemed wise enough to agree to my bargain. Perhaps they will be smart enough to keep out of trouble.”
The dungeon keeper gestured for the minions to rise. “Go now; go and make your preparations for the trip to the Nine Hells,” Basil ordered. The minions stood up and waited for Basil to leave the room.
As the lesser commanders and representatives slowly trickled out through the door after their master, Scarlet, Schwartz, Chronos and Gaia stayed behind. Once the others were gone, they closed the door once more to hold a separate meeting to discuss the plans of their master. It went about as well as their last gathering: the two warriors argued relentlessly, Chronos tried in vain to sway them to his cause and the old crone simply smiled.
***
Having returned to his private chambers, Basil did not rush to remove his ceremonial garb. There was one more important event that he had to attend tonight—a private dinner with his apprentice, Elnora. It was his intention to discuss their future cooperation, to go over the events of the past six months and to celebrate her successful assault on the imperial capital.
The dungeon keeper opened the curtains and welcomed the late afternoon sun into his chambers. He looked at the mean stone expression of his father sitting in the corner of the room and smiled. “You won’t be able to hide from me forever,” Basil said. “My questions need answers. If it had been your intention to free me from your legacy by abandoning me, then you should not have taught me your craft. Or shared with me your concerns…”
As he further pondered the fate of his father, Basil’s expression soured. He turned away from the window and stared blindly at his own reflection in the dull shine of the lacquered surface of his desk. “We are not real…” he whispered. “Nothing is real. We are little more than abandoned toys, playing at life; ignorant of our creators or their bitter fate.” Basil rubbed his chin in contemplation, “Who created us, father? Who abandoned us? What are we, if not alive? What did you discover? And why did you unleash me upon this universe?”
While observing the shining surface of the desk, he noticed something that made him snap out of his bout of existential dread. Basil reached out and wiped the surface with his palm. As he raised it to his face he found no trace of ash on his skin—the residue from the Admiral’s letter that he had burned.
Did the staff come around to clean my room while I was gone? He wondered. Basil gleaned underneath the table and spotted the crumpled up piece of paper—the one that he had used to play fetch with Elnora—still lying in the dustbin. It had not been emptied.
Basil ran his hand across the surface of the table several times, but not a single speck of grey ash did he find. The dungeon keeper furrowed his brow as the unpleasant realization took root in his mind.
Once again they seek to shackle me to their will… To rob me of the truth!
At this moment there was a knock on the door.
“Enter!” Basil ordered.
An obsidian knight stepped into the room and delivered his report: “Dinner is ready to be served in the Silver Hall, My Lord. Lady Elnora has already arrived.”
“Understood,” Basil replied. The gaze of the dungeon keeper remained fixed to the shining surface of his desk. “Go and tell her that I will be joining her shortly.”
The obsidian knight saluted his master before departing.
In spite of his bitter discovery, Basil did not linger in his chambers for much longer. Even if he suspected treason, there was little he could do now, before the matter with the Admiral had been resolved. He carried on with his initial plan and spent the evening conversing with Elnora over dinner, but his thoughts never strayed far from the scene in his study. While the stoic mask of the dungeon keeper never cracked in the presence of his apprentice, there was real concern lurking at the back of his mind.
At the end of the evening the dungeon keeper concluded that, in a strange bit of fate, the eager succubus—an agent of the Guild; an outsider—was probably the one person among his inner circle that he could trust on her word alone.
When he returned to his chambers later that evening, he found a maid working in the study. She had just finished cleaning the shelves and was about to take out the trash, but Basil stopped her in the doorway.
The maid was perplexed to see the dungeon keeper reaching into the trash bag to recover a crumpled up piece of paper. Basil then gestured for her to leave and the servant complied without questioning the strange actions of her master.
Basil von Doom sat down at his desk and placed the paper ball onto it. The twilight hours passed quickly with him rolling it back and forth across the surface. The dungeon keeper considering the risks that came with pursuing the trail of his father—the price his House could be made to pay if the Guild ever found out about it. Likewise, the question of his minions’ intentions bothered him greatly, but, then again, he had always known of their conflicted loyalty. Not to the House, no. It was their master that gave rise to their uncertainty—a lesser demon than the old one, by any account. Yet, how could they compare the two if no one could so much as recall the name of Basil’s creator?
He eventually turned to the stone bust of his father in the corner of the room. “The Guild did its best to bury you,” he said. “Now my minions fear that by digging up your grave I will bring the entire House to ruin.
“What did you do, father?” he asked. “What crime did you commit for the Guild to issue a tabula rasa protocol on you? What secrets do my minions wish to hide from me and why?”
The stone bust kept silent. The angry expression of the old master of House Doom glared at his descendant in impotent silence, his voice and identity erased from all memory—a creature forgotten in plain sight. The letters that spelled out his name were all there, etched into the gilded plaque at the base of the statue, but Basil could not read them. He traced the letters one after the other, yet no words could his mind conjure. It was right there, a name written down before his very eyes, yet he could not comprehend it.
The presence of his father lingered in his mind in the form of old conversations and lessons, yet the speaker in all of them remained invisible. Basil could remember that someone was standing there—a figure pulling him from the cage, thrusting him into the blood soaked arena and watching with satisfaction as Basil tore apart his enemies with vicious hatred—yet the visage of his father escaped him; the tone of his voice muffled to the point where only the meaning of his words remained. The desire to serve his disembodied master still tugged at Basil’s mind, but he no longer remembered why it had been so important to him—to kill and taste the blood of his enemies; to impress his creator and to hear his praise.
What was I to you, father? he wondered. Why did you create me? And why did you release me?
***
[…] Consider this, dungeon keeper: if your passing goes unnoticed, your name forgotten in a generation or two, then how can it be said that you had ever lived at all? Will your deeds be remembered by those that survive you, or will your name fade from memory with the turning of the page?”
To forge a lasting legacy you need to focus on maintaining the three pillars of leadership: loyalty, power and fame. The loyalty of your minions, the power of you—the keeper of this sacred bond—and the fame of your name shall forever be your only concerns. Upon them an empire can be built and without them no house can stand.
In the absence of our creators, the act of balancing life and death now falls to the lesser creatures of the universe. The kith are too easily corrupted by their own vices, so we, the monsters, must humbly accept this task. Unlike the kith, we understand our place in the Cycles of Ruin; therefore we must guide them towards glory and death, no matter the cost. Remember, dungeon keeper, that not only is it in our nature to destroy their civilizations, but it is also our most sacred duty.”
—Maximilian Ripgore, Dungeon Keeper’s Manifesto.