L trodded further into the dungeon, through crooks and turns. Parties of Bugbears, Purple Shits, and Shriveled Shits trundled by him cluelessly.
Seeing the sheer amount of forces casually leaving this dungeon both frightened and excited L.
Evidently, by purposely failing the quest in order to find where the monsters came from, L had skipped a few important steps, and no doubt reached the end of the quest; an all-out war. He supposed he was supposed to have grown relationships with the village, gotten more powerful, gotten the village more powerful, and then either lead a force into destroying the dungeon or defend against an attack.
L’s anticipations were confirmed upon coming to the widest part of the cave. It opened up extensively, far beyond what his Dark Vision allowed him to see. There were at least 50 huts that he could see, and probably over a hundred more monsters. There were kids and female Purple Shits and Purple fucks running around, splashing in the river, and constructing more buildings. That last one was somewhat suspicious, as not all monsters are able to build civilizations; and it did not seem particularly likely that the species of monsters L slaughtered could do so, either. They were decent hunters, but to hunt and to build are two different things. From that, it was not too difficult for L to come upon the conclusion that there was someone with a much higher intelligence, a mutant or an evolved species altogether, was leading this. The boss was likely to be some type of mage or shaman, rather than a bulky warrior, which L was more than jolly with.
For starters, it was simply the correct game design. A leader that was as vapid as his minions simply can not lead a civilization that could survive long enough to grow this long. The game was probably running an evolution system much like Earth had, where only that capable of surviving actually survived. The second, albeit lesser reason, was that L did not have the required brute force to fight against those types of mobs by his lonesome. The fights needed to be short and sweet, otherwise, his life would be short and awfully tasting like iron.
Hovering around the entrance, L’s spider senses tingled, thus informing him that sticking around here was an especially stupid fucking idea, and that it would be most wise of him to clear the fuck off.
L informed himself that he was, in fact, just about to do that, and that they were being obnoxiously distracting. He began to creep along sides the edges, attempting to spy out the leader. He looked for some old fellow with a beard, preferably with a staff, being protected by a guard or two, much like the one that he previously passed…
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
With an appropriate facepalm, L shook his head in dismay. Sometimes, and only sometimes, did his levels of Moronic reach this high.
Giggle Giggle
“I have enough people laughing at me, Null, I don’t need additional ones. Bugger off.”
Huh?
"Bugbear? Argh, you must be disappointing in bed, too." L moved on, hoping that the mob leader, who from hereon shall be dubbed Ancient Purple Shrivel, was intelligent enough to gain further symptoms of intelligence.
Vanity! Oh, Precious Vanity!
Surely enough, L was able to spot a hut that easily overshadowed the rest of its neighbors. It was placed at the far edge of the cave, where it seemed as if the dungeon was ending, and where the caves paths began to close off.
There was a hut every five feet, and the huts themselves were about five feet wide and tall, which was sufficient enough for their small dwellers, or slightly larger for the singular Bugbears that resided within. L spotted some Trows too, here and there. They were a nasty bunch, with the size of a small adult with wild hair, a large beard, and dirty white skin. They were easily mistaken for ugly adults, and the smart ones of them made sure to take extra advantage of it.
Who knows, maybe that’s what humans evolved from.
L shrugged. The lore made no mention of this.
Surprisingly, there were also a few Forest Kith Goblins, a nocturnal goblin species with black fur, yellow eyes, and arms as long as their legs. Here and there were some Snotlings, the lowest species of goblins hovering at around two feet with flimsy limbs, being slaved about.
Something caught L’s eye. There was a spot, right near the Ancient Purple Shrivel’s hut, that all the monsters avoided, even the Bugbears.
Shaking his head, L backed away. Getting any closer was far too dangerous. He'd gotten a decent count of the population, and though most capable hunters of the dungeon would be out and about right now, getting food for the rest of the growing ones, L could get a count from the number of huts that were built.
It was odd, to see that many species under one banner, but in a way it made sense. As the humans expanded, inferior creatures had to migrate further away in the direction of the Desolate Lands, but at some point, the threat of the Desolate Lands outweighed the threat of humans.
That put L in a disagreeable position. He was far too undermanned and underpowered to advance beyond here, which, unfortunately, was what expected to occur when he spawned in this far area of the kingdom. That limited the rewards he could have reaped from building a relationship with the village.
L began to creep back out the cave, tinkering with his mind. He needed something creative; something with a bang, preferably, but that would most importantly reap the most rewards out of this hopeless situation. The sheer ridiculousness of it made parts of L shudder in the anticipation of it all, while his other, wiser parts, began to curse for all the extra work it just created for itself.