Chapter 39: Loss
Saturday, April 1st, 10:17 PM
Dungeon Ciara
Joe and Siobhán were almost at the basement’s entrance when Joy burst through the door into the snow.
“Joe, Mike’s hurt!” Joy yelled, pointing frantically at the doorway beside her.
“What the hell happened?” Joe set Siobhán down and rushed inside.
“Mike was trying something new. He said his life isn’t in danger, but it looks bad,” Joy called from behind.
When Joe reached the bottom, he found Michael and Rihelah standing over Mike, who sat calmly on a high-backed wooden chair at the kitchen table as they used tweezers to pick things out of his face, dropping them into a glass bowl half-filled with water.
“Hey, Schimpf.” Mike sounded like he had cotton balls in his mouth. His lips were torn, and his cheeks were swollen.
“The fuck did you do?” Joe asked as he laid a hand against Mike’s back and healed him.
Siobhán and Joy stepped beside him. Joy looked at her feet, and Siobhán shielded her mouth after she saw Mike.
Dozens of sharp, clear shards pushed out from Mike’s wounds and scattered across the painted floor of the basement. Some of them squeezed out through Mike’s eyelids, and Joe winced.
“Thanks. That wasn’t fun.” Mike opened his eyes. “Damn good thing we’ve got you around, Schimpf.”
Joe opened his mouth to speak, but Mike held up a hand.
“I thought I’d experiment with magical shit. Plan fell apart when it met the enemy. Turns out Ciara wasn’t bullshittin’ when she said we need to be careful how much mana we infuse into things. I thought I could handle it, but it looks like I need a bit of practice.”
“I see. Well, let’s get some protective gear made before you munch on another frag grenade, yeah?” Joe shook his head.
“Copy that, Schimpf.” Mike chuckled.
Tough old bastard.
Joe smiled.
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[I’ve been working on something.] I told my resident humans as I opened a new tunnel beside the couch after Mike was healed.
“O’Connor, I still can’t get over how quickly you make changes,” Mike said as he started down the new passage with the others behind him.
[I’ll need help designing whatever’s required to melt and work with metals since I don’t know anything about that.]
“You making a smelter and forge for us?” Joe asked.
[Is that what they’re called? Sorry, I’m ignorant about most… industrial things. But the space is ready to go. After Mike’s mishap, I also made a special testing room.]
“Fuckin’ A.” Mike grinned.
Michael smiled at the firm grip Rihelah maintained on his hand, but his mouth dropped open when he stepped into the new space the Dungeon had made.
“Are you kidding me, Dungeon?” Joe whispered.
Ahead of them stretched a well-lit stone hallway around sixteen feet tall and twelve feet wide.
To either side were four massive doors set across from each other in pairs—each stretched floor-to-ceiling.
[Check the door on your right.]
They did as she asked. The interior was like a warehouse, with a large table that ran the length of the back wall.
[Each working space is fifty meters wide and long, with six-meter ceilings. I used a bit of water to help me level the floors throughout, so it should function well with forklifts once we get equipment like that.]
“You said you didn’t know much about this kind of thing.” Mike deadpanned.
[I don’t, but I didn’t live under a rock, Mike. At least, not before the war.]
Everyone rolled their eyes.
[I salvaged some hand tools from the area. Have a look on the table. I’ve hardened and strengthened them all.]
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“Some tools?” Michael swept his gaze across the incredible setup before him. He didn’t even recognize half the tools on display.
Everything was laid out into orderly, individual workstations, across the entire work table.
Each working space had its own anvil and vise, with separate work surfaces of wood, stone, and metal. A vast array of tools lay in easy reach. Focused lightstones shone down over each station, providing ample illumination.
“Okay, I’m smelling bullshit.” Joe grinned. “You’ve made a professional workshop just along this wall, Ciara.”
[My dad loved building things, and he was quite handy. He made sure I knew as much about home repair as possible, despite the fact that I preferred being out in nature. That said, I don’t know anything about forging metals.]
“Well, fuckin’ A. Blacksmithing’s something I always wanted to try—I just never had the time.” Mike hefted a small sledgehammer and smiled as he tested its balance. Then he froze, staring at the wall behind the table.
“Dad? Are you okay?” asked Michael.
“I’ll be damned. I just heard that voice you keep talkin’ about, Schimpf.” Mike grinned at Joe. “It said I’ve been offered the chance to become a Forgemaster Hawkeye.”
“Perfect.” Sven appeared, his voice thundering through the space. Everyone flinched back at his sudden entrance.
“Gyah! Damn you, Sven.” Rihelah latched onto Michael’s arm.
Sven chuckled, showing off his black crystalline teeth.
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Joe leveled his gaze at Sven.
I must find a way.
“The Hawkeye portion of your profession is… unusual, but Forgemasters are an essential part of any settlement,” Sven continued, unfazed by the dirty looks of those he’d startled. “Now, here’s how to construct the necessary facilities.”
“Sven,” Joe bellowed.
The Dungeon’s Spirit Guide turned his head smoothly. He nodded. “I have been listening, Joe Schimpf. There is a simple reason I elected not to broach the subject of your wife.”
“Anna—” Joe began.
Sven talked over him. “Dungeons are unique, with their ability to revive residents. Binding of the soul prior to death is key—you understand?”
Joe shook his head. No.
Sven frowned. “Resurrection of Anna Schimpf, whose soul was unbound, is the domain of True Dragons alone. I only know that the cost to return her to life very likely increases with time.”
“So, how can I—she’s…” Joe’s face went numb and his vision blurred.
Shutting his eyes, Sven furrowed his brow. “I said nothing because I cannot help you. I daresay you must bring this matter before Lord Auronox, and if He does not answer, then you must accept her loss and move forward.”
But magic should be able to…
Joe shut his eyes, and everyone was silent for a moment. He wavered on his feet, then fell to his knees.
“So, you have already prayed to Him?” Sven asked gently.
So many times, and yet…
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Auronox’s tone was gentle and comforting, but his words sundered Joe’s heart.
Joe’s face went slack. He looked up as a strangled wail escaped his throat, then beat the stone floor with his fists. He bloodied his hands and tears rained down as Joe gasped for breath.
“I am… truly sorry,” Sven said quietly.
Joe’s breathing accelerated, and the world went black.
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Siobhán’s face was numb.
She looked at Joe’s blurry form through her tears, while the five carried him toward the basement. The gravity of what had happened made her chest hurt.
Rihelah pulled one of Joe’s hands up, met the others’ eyes, and silently nodded to the mostly-ruined skin of Joe’s knuckles.
He’s already healing. That’s good.
They laid Joe down in the basement’s unclaimed bedroom, and when Siobhán started covering him, everyone else moved for the door.
“Hey—” Siobhán began.
“Someone should stay with him.” Mike’s frown curled upward, then fell as he turned to close the door behind him.
“That’s not fair,” she whispered. She finished covering Joe up, pulled the rolling computer chair away from its desk, and sat near the bed.
I told Joe I’d help him find a way.
He needed her so much, and now…
Siobhán’s tears fell in silence.
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Since there was nothing I could do to help Joe with the loss of his wife, I returned to the task of working to defend those who still lived.
Sven guided me through the creation of a quartet of massive stone-framed smelters along the wall opposite the worktable. It took a while, and I had to remake the first one eight times before the drake was satisfied, but I finally got the hang of it.
Each structure was six meters across and included five firing chambers with special crucibles—all made from a mana-infused graphite-ceramic composite.
“Now, for the next part, I suggest that you keep your humans out of this space. Your childlike experimentation can be… unstable.” Sven grinned.
[Oh, piss off, you Abusive Anole.]
“Ah, the Infantile Cesspit hath insulted me. How shall my fragile ego endure? Save me, dear humans!” Sven called out toward the basement.
[They’re asleep, so let them be. Now, out with it, you Ancient Float-Toad.]
My Soybean and Joe were still awake, but I was sure Sven knew that.
“Such impudence from a Sputtering Peat-Bog.” Sven grinned. “Gather a chunk of tungsten and imbue it with mana, as I showed you before.”
I did as Sven asked.
“Ah, no fun. You got it on the first try,” Sven complained.
The product of my work glowed white-hot, giving off a tremendous amount of heat that melted stone, making a hearthstone’s output seem tame.
[Too bad, Complainus Anus. Right, so I’ve created a basic forgestone. What’s next?]
“Foundries and forges, oh, Gloateus Gluttonatrix. Mike will need a few other things to work with. You can start by…”
Sven stayed longer than usual. While the humans slept, I fashioned many additional tools for Mike and filled out that entire room with all the basic crafting and shaping stations he and others would require to have a functional metal shop.
My favorite bit was an enormous anvil, two meters long, made of pure tungsten infused with mana just below the threshold that would turn it into a massive forgestone.
“Mana infusion won’t bring the anvil up to parity with magical equipment imbued by spirit stones, but it’s far superior to anything your planet had before.”
[It’s that strong?]
“Indeed, though you should inform Mike he must take care not to infuse more mana, or the anvil will ignite, and he will meet a rather painful death.”
[Magic is fascinating. I wish I could read and learn more about it.]
“Sadly, I lack the ability to transport physical objects to your world. Simply experiment and learn as you go. You’ll have eternity to improve, provided you and your world survive the looming Draconic contest.” Sven cocked his head.
[I want to see if we can integrate magic with technology. This world’s industries came up with some amazing things, too.]
“I’m sure they did.” Sven snorted.
[Hey, given our prior lack of magic, I’d say we did pretty well.]
“If you’re referring to squabbling with one another for short-sighted greed, then I agree. I will admit, that is a common problem among sapient mortals and thus, hardly unique to humans.” Sven waved the subject off with a scaly hand.
I sighed.
[Considering recent events, you’re not wrong about that.]
Sven brandished his teeth in a wicked grin, then made his voice deeper. “Mortals rarely deviate from such behavior for long.”
[I hope we can be better.]
“We?” Sven snickered. “You think you’re still human?”
[Right. Old habit.]
“Ah, youth.” Sven shook his head.
[You can be such a pain in the ass—core—whatever.]
Sven smiled and then said, “Mana infusion makes metals less brittle and raises their melting point. While no harder than its mundane form, that anvil is around fifty times more resilient against shock and shear forces. Without mana, it could shatter when struck hard.”
[Huh. I wonder if I could reinforce weapons for my residents?]
“Best to let your Forgemaster handle such things. His new innate talent will produce superior results.”
[I see. It will be nice to delegate some tasks so I can focus on things my instinct prefers.]
“Ah, you’re learning. At such a prodigious rate, in a mere millennium or two, you’ll graduate from Ignoramus Vulgaris to Moronus Tremenda.”
[Oh, Sven. Considering your impressive age, you likely experience Phallus Flaccidus Shrivela, which may devolve into Impotensa Noncoitus Morbidus. Even worse, I hear the latter can cause scales to grow on… inconvenient organs.]
The drake cackled as he disappeared.
With Sven gone, I stopped to look over my Dungeon and see what my inhabitants were up to.
Turd and Mocha’s babies already had their eyes open, and were hopping around, play-fighting with one another. The mouse pups were still tiny, but they sported velvety fur coats. Watching the little scamps made me feel as warm and fuzzy as they looked.
Three partially-eaten cherries from my fruit orchard lay against the far wall of their home, separate from their cache of seeds.
Nino and Hanzo were in their new favorite place, nestled cozily among Allison’s children.
My Labs lay beside Joy as all three snored contentedly.
Michael and Rihelah were… doing what they do best.
At least they’re happy.
Mike opted to continue sleeping in the main housing area, rather than the basement rooms.
Joe and Siobhán…
Oh, my! That’s not what I was expecting.
Right. I’ll leave them to it.
Around my Dungeon, the nonhuman denizens were busy. The minion highways teemed with rodents and arthropods, and I even spotted two tiny pairs of weasels bounding through my tunnels near Antonelli Pond.
My Dungeon-half longed for the weasels to be available as minions, but I vetoed the urge to send Dire Widows to ensnare and kill one. Small plants around that pond and Natural Bridges had recovered considerably in just a few days, and I knew I’d get a weasel soon enough without needing to force the issue.
Then I saw what was chasing one pair of weasels, and grinned.
Ah, nature, how I love thee!
A Gopher snake moved as quickly as it could in pursuit, likely unaware of the danger those tiny but fierce creatures represented.
One way or another, I would soon receive excellent minion material.
Glancing around the passages in that area, I found thousands of amphibians and lizards huddled together in the pockets I’d shaped. Often, when there was an extreme weather event, animals behaved differently from normal—and that was certainly the case for the frogs. Bullfrogs and leopard frogs, both voracious predators, allowed tiny Pacific Tree frogs to climb over their faces without attacking.
I also spotted hundreds of serpents that had taken refuge from the cold—mostly Pacific garter snakes and a few tiny Ringneck snakes.
Hmm. I wonder if… yes!
My minion creation interface already had two serpents available. Excited to have snakes for my Dungeon at last, I got to work.
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Floors: 2
Minions: 142/240
Residents: 12/12
Denizens: 45799
Traps: 3/10