15

Hunter

The next morning I was broken from my torpor by Terry shaking me.

“Momma says you gotta get up; Gabe and Gabby are about to tell a story.”

It took a moment to translate the childish troll's words. Gabriel and Gabrielle were about to tell the dungeon monsters about the humans and their settlement. The fact that they were telling everyone, and not just myself or Geoff, was promising. Hell, the fact that they had returned whole and not in a panic was promising. Until now I hadn’t given it much thought; the whole Kool-Aid suicide thing of the night before was just a bit more pressing. Still, their mission seemed to have gone off without a hitch.

Storytime was taking place outside. The goblins and trolls seemed to spend a lot of time outside, which went directly against my preconception of zombies lurking in the dark. It was good that they enjoyed the fresh air, but if Kasumi had scouts, then it was possible she would find out about Tessa and Terry unless they hid underground.

Looking at Terry bouncing excitedly though, I decided to leave it. If that turned into a problem, then so be it. I wasn't going to make them hide all the time. The entire dungeon was awake and milling about on the surface, once again having risen before me. Once Geoff saw that I had joined them and everyone was accounted for, he started calling out to gather around.

Gabriel and Gabrielle... Maybe Terry had the right idea, shortening their names to Gabe and Gabby, stood up in front of the congregation as Geoff joined the seated monsters.

Gabby started their tale, “You all know, yesterday we left to return the human girl to her people. Gabriel knew about where the village was, so we left in that direction. The girl and her squirrel kept trying to talk to us the entire time. We couldn't understand a word of it, but they didn't stop until we could see the buildings of the village.

It didn't take long though; they are far closer than we thought.”

Gabriel cleared his throat and took over, “I knew their direction, but I didn't know exactly where we were. When Geoff brought us here, we were a bit too... preoccupied to keep our bearings. Anyway, the humans... they are about an hour's walk to the south.”

He paused to let everyone take that in. That really was close. In the trees and brush, an hour of walking was barely beyond visual range. If I climbed to the treetops, I could probably see smoke from chimneys or other fires, if not the buildings themselves. That was dangerous.

People didn't tolerate threats so close to home, and we were a threat to the humans, to be sure. If the humans found us, we would be exterminated out of hand. That would solve the Tier requirements, as we would defend ourselves before rolling over and dying. But I had no doubt they would outmatch us.

Gabe continued, “The girl took the squirrel and ran off into the settlement, but we stuck around to have a look. The humans are many, and they have weapons. They train all day with their axes and hammers. They build great houses, killing the forest as they go.”

I held up a hand, interrupting, “They train all day... building houses?”

Gabby nodded gravely, “They hack and cut at the trees with axes, then others drag the logs off where they cut them up even more. Eventually, they build giant homes and pound on the walls with hammers. It looked like some strange ritual to me, but Gabriel thinks they are training.”

I laughed; I couldn’t help it.

I asked another question to confirm my suspicion, “You said they are many... how many?”

Gabe was scowling at my laughter but answered nonetheless, “Too many to count; Gabrielle and I both made it through all our fingers and toes, and still there were more.”

Geoff actually face-palmed before speaking, “Please don't judge us all by these two's... mathematics skills.”

Now they were both scowling. To be fair, they were both competent scouts and fighters; they even knew of herbs and plants that Gina didn't. Not everyone could be good at everything. They just weren't great at numbers.

I waved at them to continue, “That's fine, you both counted all your fingers and toes, that means there are at least forty of them, keep going.”

The two goblins looked at each other nervously for a moment before Gabby clarified, "Twenty... we both counted separately... There are more than twenty of them... we made doubly sure of that.”

That did it. I had to cough and turn my head just to keep from rolling with laughter now.

I had been wondering when it would happen, and that did it. I could no longer be surprised by the utter nonsense in this world. I wasn't even going to try and explain the concept of logging and construction to them; it wasn't worth the breath I would waste.

When no one had anything to add to that statement, Gabe pressed on with the story, “They didn't spot us, and none of the humans seemed to be preparing for war. It was getting too dark and nothing new happened, so we came back. We knew you needed some herbs and animals for food, even though we don't need to eat…”

There was something in the goblin's face there; I couldn't identify it properly, but it looked like... regret?

Then Gabby finished the epic tale, “So we gathered what we could on the way, and here we are.”

Gerald started to clap enthusiastically before noticing he was the only one. He quickly stopped and made a serious face, nodding solemnly.

I was deep in thought. Despite the goblins' words, that sounded like a small, and probably recent, settlement. If not for the construction and logging, it might even be mistaken for a large camp.

That was good and bad. We might actually stand a chance in a full-out conflict, though I hoped it wouldn't come to that. However, settlements like that weren't isolated, not really. Someone had probably sent them out here, possibly with the intention of forming a new settlement, maybe something else. If something like a dungeon being nearby came to light, there would surely be word sent back, and that would mean more people.

Worse, being in a forest limited what they could be here for. Farming in a forest wasn't feasible, so they might be a hunting village, or perhaps they would continue logging beyond their own needs. Or maybe they were going to be more like a gathering place for dungeon-slaying adventurers. Regardless of intention, this meant the dungeon wouldn't be a secret much longer.

Geoff stood in front of the group again and asked the question we all had, “So, how do we handle this?”

Gary made a suggestion after no one else seemed inclined to, “Can't we take out the village? That would solve all the problems.”

“That isn't going to happen.” Tessa declined shortly.

I sighed and elaborated, “It would be too dangerous, and... that’s what the trolls did to you.”

I didn't need to continue; Gary looked to be regretting the suggestion already.

“What about the plan from before? That amulet lets you speak to humans, right? Let's just talk to them; surely they will see reason. Maybe we can even convince them to handle the troll dungeon for us.” Geoff made his own suggestion.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

That was a good point; in all of this chaos, I had forgotten why I was so excited about the amulet in the first place. A village that small probably wouldn't have a criminal to put to death, but conversation would be a good first step regardless.

Ask and ye shall receive, or something like that.

As we sat there conversing, sudden shouting from out in the woods drew our attention. The words weren’t intelligible, but two things were apparent from them. The one shouting was human, and the one shouting was angry.

An arrow sailed out of the trees, missing us all by a wide margin. Then another, smaller, more familiar voice shouted.

While the two voices argued loudly, still out of sight, the dungeon monsters prepared for battle. Several weapons were brought out, and the goblins crammed themselves behind the dungeon entrance, sheltering from more possible arrows.

I managed to remember the construction interface without prompting this time and quickly erected small bunker-like buildings around the edges of the clearing. Fortunately, they didn't count as rooms, just terrain, so long as I kept one side open. It was suddenly clear how absolutely broken the construction interface could be in a siege. Bunkers, traps, tunnels, and cover could be created and destroyed on demand. The cost would be high, but reactive fortifications would be one hell of an advantage.

The goblins realized the usefulness of the bunkers’ shelter and took cover within them. No further arrows came though. Instead, the first voice called out again, less angry now, more wary. I still couldn't understand it. I needed to be able to see someone in order to target them with the amulet, and the humans were hiding in the trees.

There was no way to communicate our inability to communicate, though. So we just waited. They too waited.

Much waiting occurred.

Finally, the human took the first step out where I could see him. The man was tall and wiry. His clean-shaven head must have been polished or something as the light reflected off it like a disco ball. I couldn't even see his clothes through the glare. We were under the shade of trees, and that thing still blinded.

I managed to finally target the man though and called back, "Hello, human! We don't want any trouble. Can we talk?”

Rather than the man, the response came from a tiny troublemaker. Cynthia dashed out from the trees and into the clearing. The girl still held Squirrely McSquirrel in a bear hug. The squirrel hung limply, all of his previous vim drained away.

As Cynthia rushed to greet the zombie monster horde, the bow-wielding man chased her with a terrified look on his face.

Cynthia started talking, and I could understand her, which told me the amulet worked on the language of the targeted, not just the person. Not exactly what I had expected, but helpful nonetheless.

“Hi, Mr. Rob. Papa saw me come back from the woods, so I had to tell him where I went. I brought him, and you can meet each other now!”

The papa in question stopped just behind his daughter, resting a hand on her shoulder, "Come, Cyn, these are monsters. Back home now. We can come back later to... talk.”

The man didn't seem to realize I could understand him, just trying to get his daughter away. I raised my hands in surrender, only realizing that might look threatening coming from a zombie when he flinched back, pulling Cynthia away in a hurry.

We needed to stop him fast. If he left like this, then more would come, and it would become a shitshow.

“Hey sorry, nice to meet you; I’m Rob. I might look like a monster, but I’m a perfectly reasonable person, I promise.”

He looked around like he expected there to be someone playing a joke on him.

Not finding any such prankster, he gazed at me in confusion.

Cynthia cheerfully spoke up again, “Papa, I told you Rob was nice. All of them are.”

I looked at the man closer so I could call him something aside from Papa in my head.

Name: Hunter

Classification: Hunter

Race: Human

Level: 12

Hunter the hunter glanced around again, looking for the ‘all of them' Cynthia mentioned. The goblins and trolls remained hidden, which I was thankful for.

“You can talk?” Hunter asked.

He still didn't sound like he expected an answer.

I had to surprise him then, “Yup, and I don't want any trouble. Me and my friends mean no harm.”

“You’re a monster…”

I nodded slowly, “You are a human... Now that the obvious bits are done, can we talk about... not killing each other?”

“Monsters can't talk.”

It seemed like we had broken Hunter already. I looked down at Cynthia for help, and she just grinned back at me. The squirrel flipped me off; it seemed that was a thing in this world as well.

Fortunately, Hunter recovered somewhat, “Not killing each other… that would be good…”

I grasped the lifeline, “Great! Can you speak for your village?”

“The village! I have to tell them!”

Before I could stop him, Hunter had snatched up Cynthia and her fluffy passenger and dashed off into the trees.

As soon as the humans were out of earshot, I put the dungeon on high alert.

“Everyone! Code red!”

Someone asked, “What’s a code red?”

“It means, prepare for battle; shit is about to get real!”

The panic and hustle were wasted though. Everyone was already mostly ready for a fight, and the human village was an hour's walk away. That meant we had about two hours before anyone could show up.

Once the tension began to fade, Gale found me and launched into a sales pitch, “I have more traps. If we set some of them up out here now, then they should work when the humans come.”

I didn't really need convincing, though, and readily agreed. Gale had been spending all her time split between drawing up plans for traps and training with a wicked-looking spiked hammer that Gregory had put together from my junk weapons. At this point, I wasn't going to question her traps, so I followed along quietly as she explained her drawings.

Many of her traps and what looked to be siege weapons would need parts that Gale didn't trust me to make. She had been working with Gregory, the smith-to-be, making plans on things they could make when I got around to setting up a forge and a workshop.

Until that time though, Gale had a dozen or so traps that ‘Even I couldn't mess up' as she put it. I had as much time as necessary in the interface, so I placed what she described where she told me to.

Around the entire clearing, we made a trench. It wasn’t very deep but would take some time to climb up the side and out. Within the trench was a slurry of animal fat and dried grass. A small-scale test showed that the mess was nearly impossible to move through without slipping and sliding and would burn hot and fast with just a single torch.

Next, she had me build a tower of wood disguised as a tree. Within the tree was a ladder with several landings and small arrow slits. We didn't have bows or arrows, but thrown and dropped rocks could do wonders as well. I checked with Lilith, and this tree tower thing counted for the dungeon height Tier Up requirement as long as I attached it to the dungeon. Bonus.

Last was a joint effort between Gale and Gina. Between the trench of greasy fire and the tree of falling stones was the clearing. At their instruction, I scattered several caltrop-like things. Small spike clusters made of the cheap junk iron I could churn out. Before dropping each caltrop, though, Gina dipped it into the quick death potion she had made. The spikes would be a pain to clean up later, and if it rained, they would be washed clean, but for now, they would be a nasty little surprise if someone rushed the dungeon.

Once the preparations were made, we resumed our waiting. Most of the dungeon monsters were inside the tower. The only exceptions were myself, Geoff, and Gale. Gale held a torch; she insisted on being the trap springer again, and it would only take a moment to toss into the new mud trench. Geoff and I were going to try and head off the conflict with words and diplomacy. If it was possible, fighting would be best avoided.

Four hours we waited before Hunter, Cynthia, and one more returned. The newcomer was an older man with an impressive white beard and the classic old man bald patch splitting the white hair on the sides of his head. He wore gray robes that covered him from shoulder to feet, really leaning into the ancient village elder vibe. He looked like Father Time's grandfather.

“Hello, the dungeon!” The old man's voice was surprisingly clear and deep.

His words were dangerous though; he knew this was a dungeon.

I waved, "Hello, the… old guy…”

He chuckled merrily, a good sign, “Old indeed, so very old... Do you know, in all my years, I have only heard tales of talking dungeon bosses, never seen it?”

“Right… well… hello again…”

“Hello… By any chance, do you know which dungeons are supposed to be able to talk?”

I shook my head, at the very least this wasn't immediately dangerous, they were talking and not burning things after all.

“According to rumors, every dungeon that can talk is the seat of a powerful human kingdom. Every single one. Ostensibly, this land belongs to the Kingdom of Bansolow. Within the city of Bansolow lies one of the largest and most powerful dungeons in existence. It is because of that dungeon cooperating with the royal family that such power can be achieved.

Are you the sort of dungeon that cooperates?”

There was a loaded question, if ever I had heard one. I still didn't have this old bastard's name, but he had just dropped some serious trouble on me. This kingdom was likely the one who had sent these people out to these woods.

He had not said they were loyal to this Bansolow place, though, and that seemed deliberate. There was a glint in the old man's eyes. Greed? Ambition? Siding with the village might be siding against that kingdom.

Did I have a choice though? The threat in those words was also clear. ‘Are you the sort of dungeon that cooperates?’

If I wasn’t the sort that cooperated, then the humans would also be uncooperative. The old man was smart and probably very dangerous to allies and enemies alike, but I didn’t have a choice. I found myself nodding. Who could say what deal I was making with this devil, but desperate times and measures and all that.

The old man reached out to shake my hand with a sly smile.

As we shook, I got close enough to examine him.

Name: Shale

Classification: Herald of Revolution

Race: Human?

Level: 101