The dungeon heart was accustomed to perceiving its entire sphere of influence at once. Now, it focused that perception on a single room—its heart room. Analyzing the streams of mana coursing through the chamber, it sighed. Unfortunately, its class of dungeon master didn’t come with an instruction manual. Selvara was a bubbling source of general information, but the nuances of magical theory were often overlooked among dungeon fairies, likely because they weren't relevant to most dungeon hearts.
One example was the mana regeneration rate. Dungeon hearts were placed on mana lines. Initially, it had assumed that it was diverting some mana from the line itself. On second thought, this was clearly incorrect. Interacting directly with the flow of mana would incinerate it like a dry leaf in a forge fire. No, it could only absorb the free mana already released into the environment. Free mana was ubiquitous; without it, magic wouldn't work. Its level remained fairly constant in most areas due to the mana lines that formed to even out irregularities and distribute the mana. The concentration of free mana was higher on the line itself and even more so near a mana node. As its area of influence grew, it could collect mana from further away. However, this didn’t work indefinitely. Drawing mana from a distance required more mana. Beyond a few dozen meters, it took more mana to draw the energy than it could gain. Thus, mana regeneration increased only with the first few increases in his heart size and thus his area of influence.
He took a moment to savor this discovery before setting out to apply it. It had a very limited area in which he could absorb mana efficiently. Drawing more from the environment was inadvisable, as it would destroy the magical field and render magic casting impossible. Everything he did was through magic. He breathed and ate magic. Disrupting the magical field around him, if even possible, was not a good idea. Strengthening the mana field within his reach seemed more feasible. To enhance magic in a confined area, there was a feat with the same name as the one he had recently learned as a Dungeon Heart: Sanctuary.
Sanctuary
Prerequisites: Mage level 6+
The magician establishes a place where he can cast stronger magic and where he is protected from magical espionage.
Effect:
An area with a maximum radius of 20 steps is marked by the mage with a clearly recognizable rune boundary. The location cannot be changed or moved. Therefore, a sanctuary cannot be placed on a ship or in a wagon.
The Sanctuary limits the flow of free mana, rendering almost all clairvoyance spells ineffective as they cannot pass their knowledge outwards.
Few mages chose this feat, as it required specifying a location upon learning it, and it was not an effective use of their limited feats to be able to cast spells and regenerate mana slightly better in one place. Protection from clairvoyance on one’s premises was useful, but magical espionage wasn’t a pressing issue for most mages. Only academy leaders and similarly experienced mages with stationary positions learned this feat for complex research or artifact enchantment or to guard their research from espionage.
To learn another feat, the dungeon heart would have to level up again. Although… he focused on the feat. It allowed hosting guests in the dungeon, creating sunlight, and the like. The feat list showed no information on which character class it belonged to. After a moment's thought, he sent out a mental query:
It is not intended for character classes to receive feats with the same name. The creators designed this part of reality without my input, not anticipating dungeon hearts would possess an additional class. I cannot make a decision here. I will request arbitration by a moderator. This may take some time, as this is not an emergency. Please wait.
Malvorik nodded and looked around the dungeon nervously. After a moment, he set to work on one of his other projects. In a newly created stable in the gnome city, he drew a circle and completed it with symbols. Two gnomes stood ready. One held a small piglet, the other a rat in a wicker basket. At his mental signal, both animals were placed in the circle. Magic flared, and they vanished in a colorful mist of sparks.
Numerous menus appeared in Malvorik's mind's eye, allowing him to select the desired traits of his chimera. It had taken him several attempts to find all these options. The creators seemed to expect dungeon hearts to haphazardly combine animals and accept random results. However, that was to be expected. He himself was stretched to the limit with his knowledge and cleverness. Many combinations were unviable or unstable. Others had significant side effects. This time, he had a clear idea. He wanted the high reproduction rate of rats combined with the size of pigs. Both species had digestive systems capable of processing almost all organic materials, which he wanted to preserve. The taste of bacon was essential! Nothing could go wrong with that. Even though he could no longer eat, he remembered the important things. Fur and bristles were a nuisance during preparation, or so he assumed, so he removed both. The resulting chimera would be sensitive to the cold, but in his dungeon’s constant temperature, that wasn't an issue.
He was of course aware that the high reproduction rate of rats was largely due to their smaller size; larger animals took longer to reach adulthood. On a mystical level, though, this didn’t matter. Rats had the ability to reproduce quickly, so he could enhance this trait in the chimera. Some choices turned red, indicating he was pushing too far. He had to weaken his creature in other areas, reducing strength, dexterity, and especially speed. These chimeras were intended as a food source, not for combat. The system seemed to assume he would turn every chimera into a fighting monster. As soon as he refrained from doing so, it posed little resistance.
If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
The cloud contracted, flashing golden light, and a pink pig with short legs and a naked rat's head appeared. It had a broad snout and exaggeratedly large nostrils. It snorted, "Nöff Nöff!"
A golden light flared, and a portal appeared. A moderator stepped out, rubbing his hands: "Well, let’s see what you've done now."
"Save it." The moderator sounded more amused than angry. Malvorik took this as a good sign. Golden rectangles appeared around the moderator's head as he studied the reports from the World Voice.
The golden aura obscured his face, but Malvorik saw him turning toward the chimera: "Dungeon monsters can’t reproduce naturally. This one has the potential to do it. How did you manage that?"
The moderator sighed, then turned to Malvorik: “Of course you did. But that’s not even why I’m here. Your problems are always new and innovative. Let’s see…” He examined the data stream, then nodded: “I see the issue. One of the… creators…” He coughed briefly, continuing, “… lacked the imagination for unique feat names. We have a mess. Let me check…”
More golden windows appeared around him. He moved his hand as if pushing invisible things back and forth. "There are seven other feats with similar issues. I’ll rename them in the dungeon masters’ lists. The World Voice will adjust all dungeon hearts' memories so it will have always been like this. Dungeon hearts don’t discuss feats with outsiders…” He raised a hand to forestall Malvorik’s retort: “Except Travis, the chatty library dungeon. I know.” He briefly read a report only he could see.
“But he hasn’t learned any of these feats. That leaves you." He compared two reports, then nodded: "I don’t see a game balance issue. This dungeon has so many handicaps that a small advantage won’t cause problems. The dungeon feat Sanctuary usually offers minimal benefits. Maybe a few exotic monsters, some intelligent allies, that’s it. Here, it allows refugees to live in the dungeon. No issue with you having full access to the mage variant. Dungeons are already well protected against clairvoyance, and other effects will only help you cast spells in your heart room. If enemies get that far, it won’t matter since you should be out of mana by then. So…” He tapped a golden rectangle. It flashed, and all rectangles vanished.
In Malvorik's feat list, the entry for Sanctuary was replaced by “Sanctuary (Dungeon)” and “Sanctuary (Mage).”
The moderator said goodbye and disappeared. Malvorik waited until the last light of the portal had disappeared, then a deep telepathic laugh echoed through the dungeon.
"Nöff Nöff?"
"Nöff?"
It took only an hour to complete the female ratpig and ensure both new chimeras were fine. The dungeon heart scanned his domain, eager to find another problem a new chimera could fix. He soon spotted a depressed duskgnome near the playground, where two children listlessly rocked on a swing. Skorr, the former village chief who had maliciously abandoned his post, watched from a nearby wall.
“Not really,” Skorr shrugged. “Those two lost most of their family fleeing the necromancers. They haven’t been the same since. Nothing cheers them up.”
“Roal and Skerry hate sweets.”
Skorr looked at the many wooden constructions, rope bridges, swings, and the big sandy area for building sandcastles. He shook his head sadly. “Don’t think that would help.”
The duskgnome hesitated, then slowly nodded: “They had a pet lizard…”
Malvorik switched his view to Weylan, who had just entered the dungeon through the portal. He set down a basket of venomous snakes in the dismantling room near the entrance. Malvorik had noticed that the patterns he obtained when absorbing material or animals were better when done inside or near his heart room. After consulting Selvara, she mentioned specialized rooms for absorption could have a similar effect. Through trial and error, he found the right size, form, and enhancement runes for the walls, floor, and ceiling of the three-by-three step room.
The snakes turned into glowing particles when Weylan placed them on a marked circle in the center. They were now in a half-absorbed state in his spatial storage. He could make them reappear on a similar circle or directly use them in a chimera project. He had planned for more monsters with poison attacks.
He stretched and bowed deeply: “Of course, mighty master of the dungeon. Your every wish is my command!”
“What do you need this time? An ox?”
Weylan dropped his act: “Children? What should I get them? A cat?”
“What are… no, don’t tell me. I’ll look at your new monsters later. You plan to give a chimera dungeon monster as a pet to children?”
“Define safer… no wait… Don’t. Let me think.” He pondered for a moment, then smiled: “A rat/cat would probably hunt and eat its own tail. A cat/dog monster would… I don’t know. Hunt itself?”
Weylan considered: “That might work, but you’d have to shrink it. Sheep are too big to cuddle.”
“I’ll buy a sheep at the market and can probably get a small kitten.”
* * *
Malvorik remembered to consult Selvara first, which turned out well. He had forgotten to remove the sharp claws.
Under Selvara’s watchful eye, his new creature took shape on his viewing mirror: “Smaller… smaller… yes, the size of a housecat. Just rounder, with fluffy white fur. Use cat paws instead of hooves. But remove the claws. Make it an herbivore. Keep the cat ears and the purring sound. Good.”
The dungeon heart implemented all suggestions, then reviewed the design:
“Malvorik!”
“I don’t know why that works, but it vastly increases the number of unique designs you can use. Each monster created this way uses fresh animals and more time and mana than spawning regular dungeon monsters. That’s probably why there’s no safeguard against it. I think a famous beast tamer dungeon used a similar method successfully. But he had access to a whole jungle full of beasts next to his entrance.”
The chimera formed on the transmutation circle, small, fluffy, and purring immediately, rubbing against Selvara. The dungeon fairy almost vanished in its white wool.