Fate Deals The Cards
Fifty-two Pickup part 1: The Lovers
Ch: 3 Ante Up
Fruit! That made being a monkey worthwhile; everything else sucked super hard. The other monkeys had no clue that I wasn’t… Chip. Sure, Chip, why not?
They had no clue That the guy in charge was a little blue ringed octopus, they treated us like shit, just like they all treated each other. The monkeys were just assholes through and through.
They would shit on food if they couldn’t finish it, shit on each other, just for fun, befoul the drinking water and knock unripe fruit down, just out of pure meanness.
My octopus buddies were just drifting through life aimlessly, but they were largely chill and friendly, these guys were super lame. I ditched the monkey troop and headed inland. Looking for something, anything that would give me a clue about what to do next.
I headed up the extinct volcano’s cone, hoping for a view of a mainland of some kind, or maybe a ship… there were more islands, stretching off into the horizon, big ones, little ones, flat ones and mountains too, but no ships, not even a canoe. No smoke trails from a human camp or village either. Just endless tropical wilds.
Dejected, but still hopeful, I started clambering around the cone of the volcano, foolishly thinking that maybe, from a different angle…
“What are the readings, brother Finnius?” A voice asked… from a cave, not far below me.
“Confirmed, master Alberforth. This is a dungeon world, it’s currently inactive. I show very promising power readings, we should recommend that a conquest team deploy immediately, sir.” A second male voice answered. “I show that there is a dungeon lord, it’s close, sir.”
“How close?” The first voice asked.
“One and a half kilometers north, that small volcanic island.” The second man replied meekly.
“We shall withdraw. Seal this void and note its coordinates.” The leader commanded, as the voices faded away. The men didn’t emerge from the cave, and my monkey was not agile enough to reach the opening…
The monkey had no ability to speak anyway, it could only screech and hoot. When I finally managed to reach the cave, there was no one there, just a few boot prints, ending at a solid wall of stone.
Those men were gone, but they had mentioned something about a ‘dungeon world’... and that there was a ‘Dungeon Lord’ on a nearby island. That was enough of a clue to get me moving, rather than waiting in hopes that the people might come back.
Monkey Gary clambered down from the stoney peak, my eyes locked onto the small volcanic island with the long red rusty streaks down the cone. All these damn islands looked the same from under water.
At the shore I didn’t mess about, octopus Gary dipped out of the monkey the same way I got in, through the creature’s left earhole.
It was double lucky the cave had been below me on the right, or I might not have heard. I had wrecked the auditory organs on the left to get access to the sweet monkey brains. That was all in the past, I had my eyes on the future… The big question was how to communicate, if there was a person on that island.
I swam the channel naked, perhaps it was foolish, but I wriggled into a lobster for a few minutes, then parlayed that into a giant stone crab and climbed onto shore…. I captured a coconut crab before stone boy suffocated and used the monster’s massive claw to open a small hatch in the coconut crab’s heavy armor.
After eating that monkey nugget, the crustacean minds were hollow and empty tasting, uninteresting was the best descriptor. No matter, Coco was transportation, not a delicacy. Does a Buick need to be tasty?
The jungle was thick, super damn thick, so I spent way more time wandering around, trying to find anything that wasn’t just more overgrowth, undergrowth and generally just grown.
I was exhausted, uncomfortable and sick of vines, creepers, herbs and the whole damn jungle concept, when I heard a loud, metallic clank in the distance… and then another. Steady as a clock, someone was banging something metal against another something metal, somewhere to the south, near the volcano.
It took a while to follow the sound to its source, because, stupid jungles exist. That clanging and clanking led me on, a trail of auditory breadcrumbs that led me to a tidy shack made from the local lava stone, roofed with unglazed clay tiles.
The house seemed to have no windows, but did boast a door of sturdy and well varnished wood, probably oak.
Under a porch roof, a short, squat man was standing by a forge that gave off ridiculous waves of heat, but no smoke or fumes at all. He held a short handled hammer and was beating the tar out of something on his anvil.
Stunned to find a person after so long, I just stood there for a long while, gaping. I came back down to earth, when the burly guy turned around, looked me in my beady eyes with two featureless, milky orbs and grinned.
“Aye lad? Why are ye crabbing about like that?” He wasn’t speaking english… Not even close. His words sounded like someone shuffled spanish and italian together and shoved them through a wood chipper.
“I sense yer presence, but I kinnae hear yer breath, brother isekai. I’m Klevin, Klevin Siltstone, Master miner and smith, late of DeepRock hold, now the dungeon lord of this little paradise.” He chuckled and held out a huge, scarred shovel of a hand, waiting for me to grip it and shake. “And yer moniker, lad?”
My hearts plummeted into my ink sack as I realized, this dude was blind… and I had no ability to make even an attempt at human speech. I clacked my claws a few times wondering what the hell to do, when the dude spoke again.
“Oh, a reincarnation job…” He cackled merrily. “Yer musta died in some passing odd way, fer lord Truck-Kun to put you in this world, young human.”
He mulled that for a while, as if he were gnawing on a thorny problem. After a moment, he muttered something under his breath and stepped closer to me, holding both hands out at shoulder level.
“Step close lad, I would feel yer form and learn what manner of creature the gods have made of thee. That may help tae unravel this knot.”
I stepped closer, as requested… but he kept waving his hands around far above my squat, crustacean form. “Odd, yer a short one, lad… He muttered, still fumbling about. In frustration I knocked my claws together a few times, drawing his attention even farther down.
“Fie! A crab? That be passing strange, even out here on the edge of things!” He muttered, as he began waving his hands around in front of himself, as if he were manipulating something only he could see.
“Hmm… Me dungeon interface says there be but one sentient species on this world and coconut crabs nae be the one…” He hemmed and hawed for a minute and finally grunted at me. “Ye made a clacky noise, kin ye clack once fer yes and twice fer no?”
I clacked once, and waited for a moment, to make the separation clear, then I clacked twice more to let him know I had it.
The conversation that ensued took… a long ass time. I was ready to just forget it and walk back into the sea… if there had been anyone to talk to there.
#
“I see… nae a crab at all, are ye?” He muttered. “One of them little octopods... eh? How did ye windup dressed as a crab? Nae, of course ye kinnae answer.”
The kindly old man was stumpy in the extreme, but broad as a barn door and muscled like a workhorse, he was also more than eager to talk, now that there were ears… or something, to listen. I had no plans, plentiful food and an armored asshole to stomp around in, so I hung around, listening and learning to the old dwarf’s tutelage…
He prattled on as he worked, instructing me in his craft, as though I were a new apprentice, when he ran out of conversational topics for our one sided palaver.
“Of course, I’m not from here, this is a dungeon world, the seed of a new reality… a mighty pretty one too.” He sighed happily, gazing at the warm sun and blue sky, through his sightless eyes. “I found this place as a lad, stumbled on a void maw, deep in the mountains, while prospecting for ore.”
He smashed his hammer down on the anvil as he worked, showering the area with sparks and fire. “I spent some time in my youth, mining this little rock. The iron deposits here are as pure and sweet as spun sugar, and I came back often.” He nattered on as he worked, blithely mentioning travel between worlds and ‘dungeons’ and moving on.
I gave three fast clicky clacks, our shared signal that he had said something important and I wanted to know more.
“Ah, ye fancy the smithcraft, tis bonny fine iron in all! She takes runes, inscriptions and enchantments very fine, splendid magical uptake and transference!”
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
I gave two clacks and a click, telling him he’d missed the mark, so he gamely tried again.
“Yer wantin tae know about dungeon lordship? Or traveling between realms?” I clicked once, then once more, before rattling off a quick flurry of crustacean castanet percussion.
“When it comes to bein’ the dungeon lord… ‘twas by chance it happened. I were mining one fine day, diggin out a goodly hunk of pure iron, sweet as you please, when one of them monkey bastards. Comes roarin’ out ‘o the jungle at me, all fangs, horns, a fistfull of tentacles fer a face and a scorpion tail.” He smiled in fond remembrance.
“Classic monster up. I had a pickaxe in me hands and I never did like them monkeys, even without being all mutated and nasty… as the first sentient being to beat the stuffin’ out of a monster on this world, I became the first dungeon lord, just like that.”
I did a quick drum roll, telling him to go on and he was happy to oblige.
“I dinnae ken whae ye wanna know, so I’ll just ramble on, as old men do.” He mumbled happily, over the crash of his hammer and anvil.
“Monsters be a phenomenon of dungeons, mostly, lad. They may appear on any world frae time tae time, but in dungeons, monsters be the norm.” He grinned sightlessly at me, or in my general direction. Somehow he could always go on with his day as though he could see… Only I was invisible to his sight, but I had no way to really ask anything complex.
“On a prime world, one that be fully formed and hae a proper god or pantheon, monsters only crop up in the wilds… They be mostly like my late unlamented monkey beast; hungry, angry, stupid and short lived.”
I tucked ‘prime world’ away for future questions, but monsters seemed likely to be important, so I clicked once encouraging him to go on.
“Monsters be mutated frae normal beasts and critters, sometimes even fungus or oozes… but they always share three attributes. First, a monster be always hungry. Their appetite shapes their development and is their only real driving force. Second, monsters be, by and large, stupidly aggressive and so are solitary.”
He grinned a wolfish expression in my general area and nodded. “Stupid and alone, makes monster hunting a profitable trade, across all realms… But especially if yer lucky enough tae find an undiscovered dungeon entrance.”
He cackled madly, until he had to set his hammer down and put his project back in the forge to heat up again.
“I am in control of this world, lad… I kin make weather, if I’ve a mind tae, manage where and when monsters appear and even change the geography, if I will it.” He muttered, as he gently rotated his project in the blazing inferno that burned without smoke of fuel.
“Tis a great power, and one that can cause much ill and sorrow, or create a paradise, an a man be willing, determined, and strong enough.” He smiled sadly and nodded, as though he had come to some conclusion.
“I’m an old dwarf, lad. I found this place when I were but thirty, now I be nearer four hundred years…” He sighed. “Me sight has gone, lost in a smelter accident some twenty years past, lad. Here in this place, I kin ‘see’ any part or parcel of me dungeon. Every rock and tree, every crawling bug an flitting skeeter.”
He smiled sadly and shook his shaggy head. “I kinnae see any outsider, nor sentient being wi me interface sight, so ye are just a blob ‘o sensations and an aura tae me, crabby lad.”
He pulled his workpiece from the forge and laid it on the anvil with a sigh. “I’m gettin too old tae live here alone and too stubborn to die and be done… but ye give me a hope, lad…” He paused and cackled at me again.
“Nae, I’d not dragoon ye intae wiping me senile arse an bein’ my nursemaid in me dotage… I just so happen tae have another dungeon… a little one near my old homeworld… tis a misty and cool place, wi mountains and stony hills above a shady wetland forest. He sighed wistfully.
“Were it nae fer yer cute, wee octopussies, I’d hae moved there and taken the reins of that one, more befitting me own Will and preferences. But there’s the rub. The wee octopods, an I leave this world and take up mine other title… Yer folk will be at the mercy of the light cult.”
He nodded when I clicked to indicate my interest in this thread of conversation.
“Aye, I’ve sensed their presence and found where they peeked in… they will come tae take this place frae me ere long. The light cult desires dungeon worlds, that they might exploit them in wicked ways.” He sighed sadly.
“I may mine some iron and eat the fruit and fish of this place, but in truth, I dinnae belong here.” He waved his arms to encompass the wide blue sea and islands dotted around.
“Dwarves kinnae swim nor float, we sink like the stones of the earth we so love. I hae no skill or craft of boats, so here on this rock I’m stuck, despite my powers. When the light cult comes, I’ll fight, aye and unleash my monsters, but I’ll be taken… tis fate, hard and sure. Or so I thought.”
He grinned evilly and laughed long and hard.
“Ye shall be the dungeon lord, me nameless octopus friend. Ye shall take the lordship and become one with this realm, an yer willing. Any who would seek tae hunt thee fer yer powers would have a damned hard time, an ye swim away beneath the waves.”
He gave me a moment to consider, one I didn’t need. If I could gain some power over this place… become the master of this sun drenched world, that would at least make my life more interesting. I clicked once, signaling my decision.
“Nae so fast, friend. I hae some works tae complete, and I must teach thee some deep secrets, things known only tae the very old and the very foolish.” He sighed and turned back to his crafts. “Let me work a while, lad… I must needs order me thoughts and consider the state of me affairs.”
I gave a single click and prepared to wander into the nearby lagoon for a snack in my natural form, when he stopped me.
“When yer ready, lad, I’ll pass it tae thee and take my leave… Though, I would ask that ye let me an my heirs do a spot of mining here. I’ll come back tae visit, an I’m able, ‘til my end comes calling.” He sighed happily, with the satisfied smile of a man who’s just completed a complex task… or maybe it was the kind of smile seen only after dropping off a massive deuce.
“Tonight, I’ll tell thee why a benighted and evil demon cult frae outside this, and all mortal dimensions is so keen tae get their mitts on dungeons… And what that means fer ye… and yer eight legged kin.”
#
I had a lot to think about, as I slipped into the warm, clear waters and vanished among the wildlife and corals.
‘Oh, hi!’ Someone said, surprising the ink out of me, while I was enjoying a softshell green crab. The freshly molted delicacy floated away, caught in the gentle surf, while I was still trying to untie the knot I’d tangled myself in.
‘I like softshells too! Oh, you’re a big one aren't you? Hi, I’m Chad!’ The gregarious fellow was swimming at the head of a few dozen blue rings, the local colony, I assumed. ‘We’ve never met an outsider before! Did you swim over from another lagoon? Was that scary?’
‘Uh, yeah…’ I replied, caught completely unprepared and feeling like a moron.
‘We’ve never had an outsider before…’ A petite blue and yellow maiden whispered, her color shifts barely perceptible as she spoke in the language of colors, patterns and postures. ‘I find myself… without a male that’s not… related to me…’ She muttered, her colors even more muted and her body language muddled.
‘Here’s the deal… My pal Todd, he got eaten a few days ago… That leaves my sister, Susie in a tough spot… she can’t join our ancestors without being seeded.’ Chad said, cheerfully.
‘It is the season and you seem like a nice guy… How about it?’ Poor Susie was just tied up in knots behind her big, bluff and friendly brother, turning all kinds of colors, from muddy brown to murky green.
‘I’d love to help… but… I’m a boob man…’ I offered weakly. ‘I really can’t help you that way…”
‘I see…’ Chad muttered, weighing his options. ‘Susie’s my sis and she’s really shy, as you probably guessed. I can’t understand why you… Oh…’ A lightbulb didn’t actually appear over his head, but the colors and shapes that ran over his skin did the same job.
‘That’s cool, bro. Different strokes…’ He stammered. ‘I’ve never met a… homosexual before. How does that even work?’
‘Yeah…’ I sighed, deciding on the easy way out, since the breeding season was going to clear the slate soon anyway… ‘That’s my deal. I’m a big ‘ol homosexual, sorry.’
I know, I‘m an asshole… but I just couldn’t get… she was awfully cute though. I sighed, turning a pale blue all over, as I realized Chad was cute too… in the huggable way big eyed, soft bodied critters often are. Kawaii does not always equal sexy…
#
Klevin must have sensed my mood when I crab stomped back up to the forge to continue our ‘talk’ that afternoon.
“Aye lad. Yer aura is in turmoil and conflict… did ye perhaps meet some of the local octos?” He grinned when I was taken aback.
“They are the native species, lad. They belong here in ways ye an I never will. As dungeon lord, they are my children tae protect and guide, though a piss poor job of that, an old dwarf can only do.” His smile faded as he continued.
“That be the rub. Deep in the heart of every dungeon world, there lies a sleeping god…waiting tae awaken and become the primary deity of that world. Other gods may come along later… but the primordial divine that erupts forth when the egg hatches will be the deity of that world’s native peoples.” He smiled grimly. ‘The god in the heart of this world is the deity of your people, the octos. That is the great secret of the dungeon worlds.’
I chewed on that for a while, wondering about all kinds of details, but without a voice…
“That, my lad, is why the light cult hae come sniffing around. They need those infant godlings, tae complete their great working; their long fought war tae dominate and control all worlds of mortal kith and kin, fer their wicked ends.” He growled, sounding like a granite mountain breaking a glacier with its immovable bulk.
“I would nae see any kith fall intae their filthy clutches, least of all these giddy, fae and amusing kin of thine.” He winked at me, a slightly grotesque gesture with his milky, dead eyes, but I got the message he intended.
“Nae, ye will not become their god, lad. When that god hatches, ye will be nae more one of the octos than ye are right now… nor any less of their kith.” He said with a smile.
“Isekai, me dear boy! I’m one too! Truck-Kun sent me intae a new flesh so many long years ago… before ever I walked the realms and traveled the void.” He sighed, abandoning his anvil and hammer for a while.
“We sometimes are re-born anew in our old flesh, an the god of interdimensional fuckery guides a soul tae a new home. Most times, we become as the denizens of the world we land on, when the god of lost souls sets us down.” He sighed again, as if a bitter cold wind whispered around a mountain peak, lonely and remote.
“I meself were a bonny an pretty catgirl, once, so long ago. I do so miss having cute ears and bouncy tits… Me great regret is never bearing a litter, when I could have. Sadly, nearly all isekai be unable tae bear or father children. We be a dead end, a second chance, fair and true... But wi a terrible cost, in all.”
I clicked twice, then twice more, asking for clarification.
“Ye died, lad, died wi out issue nor the touch of mortal passion, as poor sweet Kitka Mittensocks did, when I were she, in another life.” He smiled sadly at me and opened up a little more, cause I’m a great listener.
“I were born a pretty black kitty, wi white socks on me hands and feet, wi a bonny white tail tip as well. I did sweetly dance an play in me woodland home, peaceful an fair… ‘Til the light cult came calling, takin slaves fer their dark rituals of debased evil…” He nodded grimly. “Aye, dinnae mistake their pious calls tae the ‘light’... ‘Tis a demon cult of blood sacrifice, necromancy and wicked vileness. Mark that well.”
I clicked once, signalling a firm agreement. Cults and religions left a bad taste in my mouth already; plus, the old man’s face said that the horrors and pain I suffered on my world were nothing new to him.
“Aye, I have the sense of it, lad. Tis yer kin’s breeding season, a sweetly sad changing of the guard… I’ve spoken tae them, lad; fer their language is within my powers, as dungeon lord. I kin take their semblance as an illusion and visit them, frae time tae time.”
He smiled, seeming for a moment, oddly cute… as if a faint glimmer of Kitka appeared in his face.
“I know someatt of what yer feelin, lad. I never could get behind havin this thing twixt me legs… never mind plying it where it’s meant tae go… I still long fer the touch of a smooth furred catboy… Soft toe-beans and a floofy tail that would tickle me nose when…” He coughed and shook himself all over. “Sorry, lad.”
I clicked once, then twice, telling him to forget about it.
“Anyway, that be the cost we pay fer a second chance. Ye shall nae enter the Akashic Record of yer old kin, and never more be writ in yer new kith… Save ye find a way tae gain the fecundity we lose in the journey we take, naked through the eternal void as bodiless souls.” He grumbled.
“Ye need not live as a monk, an ye kin overmaster these feelings an become one of the octos, fully… But any lass ye tupp will be doomed, doomed tae die without issue and be lost tae the Record. I suspect ye be nae so cruel and wicked.” He smiled again, showing another glimpse of the fair damsel he’d once been.
“Find love if ye can, where ye will and as ye may, but dinnae be cruel nor lie… that is the price I ask of thee fer me dungeon. That… and I beg thee tae watch over the wee, cute octos, in their innocence. Aye?”
I could only click my claws once in agreement, crabs can’t really hug anyone.
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