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Dungeon Life
Chapter Two-Hundred Thirty-One

Chapter Two-Hundred Thirty-One

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The Harbinger

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The amorphous mass of eyes, teeth, and tentacles glowers as it stalks the tunnels, making itself look even more unpleasant than usual. That’s fitting, as it’s feeling rather unpleasant at the moment, and the last thing it needs is someone trying to engage with it right now.

It had thought things couldn’t get any worse after being saddled with the responsibility of training the applicants for the Maw’s army. Oh, to be so blissfully ignorant again. It had actually started enjoying the training, much to its own surprise. While it takes so much longer than simply dominating the minds and forcing the body to do as it’s told, the Harbinger has to admit the trainees last longer when they use their own will to carry out the instructions.

Most of the trainees are doing well. There was really only one group having any difficulties with the Harbinger’s training: Lechula’s group. It growls and slams a tentacle into the wall in frustration as it continues to prowl the tunnels. It should have snuffed her when it had the chance. Potential is one thing, but to have the audacity to try to escape?! She even took a steelmage with her!

The cave-in was a brilliant move on her part, it has to admit. Only someone as spiteful as the Redcap would try to recover the body, or bodies if one counts the steelmage. So now the Harbinger is blamed for two defectors! It could even feel the Maw weighing if it should consume it or not! It wouldn’t be so simple, but the very idea proves the harbinger needs to do something soon to prove its usefulness.

Capturing the defectors would be a good start, but the Harbinger knows they’re long gone by now. It’s not roaming the tunnels to find them. No, it’s roaming to think. Not to sulk, like the Redcap suggested; think! But what can it do? It convinced the Maw to upgrade the spawner for lessers before this whole debacle, but there’s not enough spawned yet to do anything significant.

Its many mouths frown as it fails to come up with anything. There are no other dungeons nearby to quickly raid, nor other settlements. The maw has kept its territory rather clean. The only thing the Harbinger can come up with is to send an expedition deep to bring back something powerful for the Maw to consume. That will take time, and the Harbinger isn’t certain how much time it has to play with right now.

Its frustration is interrupted by the feel of a mind nearby. It pauses in its patrol to make sure it knows where it is. There should be no elves nor dwarves in this area. That’s part of the reason the Harbinger chose this section of tunnels to sulk think in. Some invader? There shouldn’t be any with enough of a mind for it to notice like that. Curious and cautious, the Harbinger makes its way towards the mind it senses. As it gets closer, it’s more and more confident the mind is not one of the followers of the Maw. The mind feels too simple for that.

It’s also difficult to pinpoint. The Harbinger could snuff it out, but presenting whatever it is to the Maw could get it back in its good graces. Whatever it is, it doesn’t seem to notice the Harbinger closing in. After several minutes, the Harbinger realizes it’s not that it’s not been noticed, but that the intruder thinks itself safe. It’s buried within the rock. It can feel the intruder’s apprehension as it gets nearer, but not the kind of panic the intruder should have if it thought the Harbinger could actually get to it.

Well, it’s time to stop playing. The Harbinger seizes the mind, before growling in frustration as the mind simply collapses. Too much force, of course. A weak mind like that can’t withstand a firm grip like the Harbinger’s. It will need to be more gentle. It didn’t get much out of the mind before it succumbed, but the Harbinger doubts it was alone. It resumes moving through the tunnels, now actively seeking minds.

It doesn’t take it long to find another, and the Harbinger is more careful as it stalks this particular prey. It wouldn’t do to lose it because it sensed the death of the first. Thankfully, it seems to be unaware or uncaring about what happened to the other one. This time, the Harbinger slams a cage around the mind, instead of directly grabbing for it. The mind, of course, panics, slamming itself against the unbreakable bars.

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The Harbinger lets it struggle as it moves closer, and once again finds the mind to be inside the stone of the tunnel. What a strange invader. The Harbinger constricts the cage carefully, restraining the mind more and more, slowly removing its ability to meaningfully resist.

Surface it orders, before immediately sighing. The mind shattered from the order. It snuffs the pathetic thing to ensure it can’t warn any of its fellows, should it somehow slip the Harbinger’s grasp, and resumes seeking.

The next one is caged and restrained properly, and the Harbinger considers how to proceed. An order will simply overwhelm it like the other. Well, as a simple mind, a little encouragement might be all the Harbinger needs. It considers trying pain to force compliance, but suspects that would just break this mind like the other two.

Instead, it takes the time to craft a desire for the simple mind. The Harbinger is no threat to it. It should surface and meet a new potential companion. It is careful to not make the compulsion too strong, so as to not break the fragile little mind. It can’t take too long with crafting the desire, though. Take too long, and the mind will break itself in its attempts at escape.

It introduces the desire to the mind, and is surprised how quickly and utterly it rejects it. Fierce loyalty and a sense of betrayal radiate from the mind at the concept, the mind firmly repudiating the idea that the Harbinger could possibly be a friend. The Harbinger snuffs it before it can tear itself apart. It doesn’t need that kind of distraction while it thinks.

It considers the Harbinger a threat on a fundamental level. It must know what the Harbinger is, at least in part. If it actually knew how much of a threat the Harbinger can be, it wouldn’t happily sit in the wall while it nears. It also doesn’t want to associate with the Harbinger, as that’d be a betrayal on a fundamental level as well. So the Harbinger is a threat not only to the mind, but to what the mind holds dear.

It goes over the possible threats that would fit that profile, but it has the same problem as trying to find something useful for the lessers to do. The only thing that could even possibly know the power of the Harbinger…

Ah. Of course. The surface isn’t as short sighted as it seemed. A denizen would have exactly the kind of loyalty the Harbinger felt. It’d also explain how such a simple mind could be working for some great purpose. Its mouths open wide in grins, profane tongues licking at nonexistent lips.

The surface dungeons are searching for the Maw. They may have even found it by now. This is the Harbinger’s chance to reestablish itself. It swiftly continues down the tunnels and cages the next mind it finds, this time in the ceiling. It takes its time with this mind, studying it and learning what it can. While the mind is properly terrified the entire time, it doesn’t understand what the Harbinger is doing. If it did, it’d break itself rather than suffer what the Harbinger will do to it.

It studies and notes the connections from the mind to the body, figuring out and separating motor functions from higher thought, bodily processes from desires. Once the mind is mapped, the Harbinger makes its move. The mind is severed from the body and quickly snuffed. Ordinarily, the Harbinger would relish in the torment of sensory deprivation, but it has more pressing concerns right now.

Piloting a body is always awkward at first, especially when the Harbinger doesn’t quite know what it looks like. It can make some guesses, thanks to the connections, but they are unlike anything it’s seen before. It wills the body to surface, letting the muscle memory drive it. It learned long ago to let things like that guide its puppets.

It moves slowly, but soon a small pile of rubble falls from the ceiling, and the Harbinger can see what it’s captured. A living rockslide? Hmm… a type of earth elemental. It tries to get a feel for the essence of the dungeon it came from, but it’s a lot harder to do with a denizen than with a scion.

The Harbinger grins as it moves back down the tunnel, towards the first of the corpses. It should be able to use the puppet to get the bodies to use as proof, and then take the Redcap down a notch or two. The surface is coming for them, and if not for the tireless efforts of the Harbinger, they might have been taken completely unawares! But now the Harbinger knows what to look for, it can make sure the spies only report back what it wants them to.