Veluna WatchfulBronze sighed as she walked down the cold stone passages of her home, finding them so restrictive compared to the vastness that was Whispering Stone. She couldn’t help as she felt an urge to return even though she had just spent the entirety of her day delving deep into that beautiful place. The vast caverns of the eighty-third floor, the deep lush caves of the sixty-sixth. Alien worlds with such beautiful and unique things that no dwarf had seen before the dungeon had appeared within their home.
Still she had never seen the first floor of Whispering Stone, the fabled place where legend has it that her ancestors hailed from. Where the Igdolith dwarves were born before the dungeon let them free into the world at large. No one had seen the first floor since the time of Odom Lion-Tongs, but it was said that they had kin still dwelling there that have not aged and never will. How she would love to find that mystical place, and see the dwarven ancestors of legend. She would hold her bare chin up high and tell all those that laugh at her habits they were nothing but gravel-munching svergabl. She didn’t care if she never married a dwarf or died in the process of delving, she knew that Whispering Stone believed in her, and all that she is.
She pulled herself from those fantasies as she approached her family’s home, noticing that it was Svern and Golric on duty today. Knowing which guards were on which shifts helped her keep track of time since it was such a tricky thing in dungeons. It was a Tuesday in the month of Pearl, so that was why the two who were always trading war stories were on duty.
“G’day Svern, Golric.” She said as she approached the door, both of their backs straightening as the first born daughter of WatchfulBronze arrived back at her family home. Svern had been about to spin a yarn of the time he helped fight against the Giant Rafamaldon in the month of Ruby fifty years ago. A story he always told and that everyone except the forgetful Golric remembered.
“G’day Lady Veluna! Welcome home.” Golric said in the wizened voice of an old dwarf, the kind who should be lounging at a tavern instead of watching a Noble’s home.
“G’day, Lady Veluna. The Duke would like to speak with you.” Wheezed Svern, having a constant rasp since the giant had crushed one of his lungs during that famous fight. Veluna had never known a day where Svern could not be tracked at any point in the mountain by the rhythmic sound of his breath.
“Da wants me to see him in his office? What for?” She frowned as she scratched her bare chin, wondering what her father could want. It might be that he was needing her haul from the dungeon more than usual. Then again with Ma being off makin merry with her siblings over in QuartzBlade, could be he was having trouble with one of her sisters.
“No tellin'. Just saw that he was quite happy about it. Ain’t seen him smile that big since the last time one of you lot were born.” Golric mentioned, his memory not completely failing him just yet.
“Mmm. Can’t be that, Ma ain’t been back yet to do her usual ‘dance’ with Da after visiting her home mountain. Maybe something went right for him once.” She beamed as they opened the door for her as she made her way into her home.
“What’s right for that bastard is usually what’s wrong for someone else.” Muttered Svern with a deep and slightly disgruntled wheeze, just soft enough to where Veluna couldn’t hear it over the creak in the door’s hinges.
Veluna passed by the statues of her family, looking at each of them fondly as she passed. It was always amazing to see the accuracy of the craftsdwarves who made exact replicas of her sisters, and captured the emotion and presence of her parents. She paused as she looked at her statue, taking it in for a long moment. Hers was the freshest statue, despite her being the oldest of the daughters. It was because the statue had to be re-forged after she made the decision to start shaving her beard. She rubbed her cheek, feeling the familiar stubble that crept across her face every few hours only to be beaten back by her specially crafted blade.
She gazed at herself, the long hair sweeping to her back, the confident smile on a brave expression. The rounded cheeks and button nose which could be fully appreciated now that she wasn’t hiding them behind hair. She gently touched the bronze boot of her statue, a deep breath coming through her before a stern nod. “One day, you’ll be outta here lass. Then you’ll find the one who'll kiss those bare cheeks, n’ maybe the others too.” She said as she gave herself a deep snorting laugh to where she was slapping her knee with delight.
“Och, too funny fer your own good there Veluna.” She said with a laugh as she walked deeper into their home. She knew there would never come a day where she would be allowed outside of this mountain. Her father was too much of a traditionalist to ever let her leave without a husband. The problem was, she didn’t want to marry anyone who lived in mountains, she wanted to be free and live in the open air. To see the sun rise and fall, just like on floor fifty-five of Whispering Stone. She was the only one to have gotten to such a low floor in recent memory, and know the secrets of Whispering Stone. Such as the fact that only half of the levels were actually designed to be experienced underground. A lot of the floors most common delvers encounter is only the entrance to grander experiences that could be found if only they thought to look up or gone against the common way that dwarves behaved.
She wandered her way into the study, her endless bag slung over her shoulder as she prepared to drop it off and trade it in for another of the family’s supply. The bags themselves were worth a fortune, but the amount of loot Veluna brought to them from the dungeon was well worth the cost. The bag that she dropped on her fathers desk was filled with gems, rare monster drop items, and even a few weapons that she had collected for the sake of smelting them down. She liked to alternate between metal and gems, but sometimes she couldn’t help herself around a well made weapon.
Her father was turned away, but his chair circled around on the metal ball bearing that allowed it motion. Dwarven engineering, better than anything the rest of the world could even imagine, a swiveling chair that only needed to be oiled once a day. He leaned forward on his desk, smiling as he looked at his first born daughter. The curls of his mustache were twitching in the familiar way that happened whenever he had good news. “Hello, my darling daughter. So good to see you again with spoils from the dungeon. An absolute delight.” He grinned as he took the bag she brought and began to sift through some of the items she had procured.
“Hello, Da. What is it that you’re needing from me? Tell me its not another suitor.” She said with a sigh as she grabbed onto one of the nearby chairs and sat down in it. She took off her boots and began to rub her feet, waiting for him to begin talking. She knew that such talk from her would only gain his ire, but she honestly preferred to be banished rather than marry one of those drool soaked beards.
His smile did twitch under his beard, the temptation there for another shouting match between the two of them. It was becoming more and more common for the guards outside to hear the two as they shouted at each other while her mother was gone. “No, darling. I think it’s about time this old dust beard finally lives in the truth. You’ll never marry a dwarf, both by your own hand and the gossip that spreads so fast. You would think those with rock in their blood would be a bit more tight-lipped.” He chuckled at his own joke, receiving a roll of the eyes from his daughter.
“I truly mean it, Vel. It is time that I see you for the warrior that you are rather than the child you were. No one has the skill you’ve held when it come to delving the dungeon, and you started out with naught but an old family sword and shield you took one night.” He said with a chuckle as he stroked his beard, reminiscing on the night he rushed into the dungeon with ten men. It wasn't necessary though, since she had managed to get tangled in the very first trap of the dungeon, and Whispering Stone doesn't eat youngsters.
“Da, I understand you’re always wantin 'to look back on the past and smile. But there is a limit to how much I want to remember my first delve.” She chuckled, actually smiling as well since they were talking in fond memories and seeming to be sharing good news with one another. She couldn’t remember the last time she had such a pleasant time with her father. "But... if'n you're being serious I'd love to know what it is. You finally going to let me become part of the king's guard?" She grinned, knowing that she was pushing it.
Another sigh escaped his nostrils as he listened to her, wishing that his daughter could be more like her sisters. She spoke so crass, as if she had grown up in the trade depots swapping stories with merchants. Meanwhile the rest of their family spoke in clean clear Dwarvish, just like any member of the king's nobles should. “No, nothing so drastic as letting you put on a bronze helmet and march out. I have a quest for you, it would require that you leave the mountain and travel south west.” He mused, realizing that he wouldn’t be able to keep her at bay for long since she very much wanted to go and rest after delving deep in the dungeon. The shocked look on her face made it clear that his words were the last thing that she possibly could have expected. That seemed to be the one benefit to her shaving that Igdur had noticed, it completely ruined how subtle she could be.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Wh-what? Why would you want me? To go questing? Of all your soldiers and all the men you have wastin away in the Sea of Courage, why bother with me?” She asked with a bit of shock, not refusing the offer but instead trying to understand how her father had gotten such vicious head trauma. That was the only reason she could imagine for this change of faith. She glanced at his head, seeing nothing of note that would suggest it being caved in.
“Because I can’t trust them like I can trust my own blood. You’ll be heading to the Swamp of Sundering in the Peninsula of Penance. Diving deep into that horrid place and finding the one thing that has eluded us all. It’s moved, so someone found it before the dwarves could get their hands on it. You know the stress we have been under better than most. If you could get it, then you could absolve yourself of the shame that your tendencies have brought on the family, and even become the hero of our people." He explained to her, speaking flatly, the nice smile that he had been putting on replaced by a determined grin.
Veluna swallowed as she thought about it for a long moment, considering what it would mean for her to actually leave the mountain and go on a real adventure. The item that he was talking about had to be the hammer, there would be nothing else he would think so valuable. She could go into the world, find the item that denotes the king, and if she had the extra time could even find love. There might not be another moment in her long life that she could meet that special someone out there for her. “Will I be traveling alone?” She asked in a hushed voice, trying to think things out as she considered the adventure in front of her. It didn't even matter that her father had slipped in insults about her behavior or shame that she brought on the family. If she could find a way to leave forever, then who gave a shit about what her father thought.
A wide grin came from her father, Igdur WatchfulBronze smiling with those large tombstone like teeth. “Your uncle Svelbar has gathered up six men to help get you where you need to go and back.” He assured, a glint of delight in his eye.
New Minion Created!
First in line, gets no rhyme.
New Minion: Divine Brushnosed Beetleborn
A [Holy] beetle given sapience and purpose by the Red Dungeon. First of its kind to grace the world and connected planes of existence. While still a small individual, the potential for it and any kin that it gains is endless. Clever description to be decided.
Red had been looking over the two notifications for just under an hour, glancing between them and the small individual he now had on his porch. He had moved himself and Herc over to the porch so that they could relax and figure out what was going on. Red had even summoned some glasses of lemonade for the two of them to drink. Red’s glass was of course untouched and superfluous but he liked to pretend that he could enjoy the ice cold sour drink on this muggy swamp night.
He glanced over to Herc, who was sipping from a glass just a few inches shorter than himself. Herc was now a bipedal version of the Heavenly Hercules he had been just a short time ago, but there were more significant changes than that. Just like with Ivy, his title had granted him a uniform and equipment. He was wearing a blue coverall with a sewn in red patch that read ‘Herc’ in embroidered letters. The coverall went under his wings and wing plates so that he would still have the full access to fly. The coverall also had four sets of arm holes since the beetle’s two remaining sets of limbs had turned into arms ending with four ivory colored segmented fingers.
Strangely enough the thing that had surprised Red most about the entire change was the two cosmetic differences to Herc’s form. The beetle’s previously glassy blue orbs of eyes now sported a sclera which made him seem more aware. That was nothing compared to the strange push-broom bristle style moustache that now covered over where Herc’s mouth and lower horn joined. The coarse silver colored threads currently being parted by the straw Herc was using to sip at his lemonade with.
“So uh… guess that you’re now a minion officially. However you’re the first of your species, sorry if that’s a burden.” Red frowned as he rubbed the back of his neck, having never thought that he would be the father of a whole new species of sentient life. He certainly wouldn’t have guessed that it would be a race of one foot tall beetle men.
“Eh, you couldn’t have known about dat, boss. I ain’t gonna hold it against ya.” The jovial tone of the Minnesota accent making the beetle seem rather calm despite being an Adam without an Eve just yet. Just like with Ivy, the title he had gained came along with an accent that Red associated with the job. He wasn’t sure why it was an accent from Minnesota of all places, but there was something telling Red in the back of his head that this was correct. He had no choice but to go with that feeling and hope that it didn’t lead him astray.
“I appreciate it, Herc. I really didn’t expect when I made you a janitor that it was going to change you so much.” Red sighed as he put his hand around the glass of lemonade on his new porch table, pretending he was holding it. He had made a lovely wooden patio set so that he could relax and watch the world go by. It was also going to be a great place for him and Addison to enjoy some fresh air once Herc and the beetles got to work.
“Well, we both know now that if’n you're gonna give something a job, ya gotta make sure they have hands first.” The beetle chuckled, holding his own glass with one set of arms while the second set guided the bendy-straw to his mouth.
“Yeah, a lesson well learned. I promise that I will take care of you and hopefully get more so you’re not alone.” Red said as he glanced at the window that showed Herc’s job one last time. It was the only thing that the two of them could deduce caused the shift in evolution to create such a unique creature.
Title: Chief Janitor
My job. Toilets 'n boilers, boilers 'n toilets. Plus that one boilin' toilet. Fire me if'n you dare.
A master of the mop, spreader of sawdust, and sometimes a font of unexpected wisdom. It is the Chief Janitor’s duty to ensure the dungeon is clean and maintained for the enjoyment of both fellow dungeon individuals as well as any guests that arrive.
‘’So… I know I don’t have a proper spawner for your people yet. I think you’re still piggybacking off of the mulch pile. But I also don’t like the idea of you just being out here all alone. Do you want me to make another Beetleborn for you?” He asked as he looked at the lemonade sipping beetle man, wondering if he had even considered the concept of loneliness in his hour of life.
“Might be a swell idea you got there, Boss. I’d fancy myself a social fella, so I’d appreciate someone to spend my time with.” Herc agreed as he released the straw from his two upper arms so that he could focus more on Red. He was a cheerful fellow, despite the fact that he was born into an evil biome and given full sentience in a matter of minutes. Red only hoped that the cheerful attitude would remain the same as time went on.
“Alright. Here we go.” Red agreed with a nod before opening his minion menu. He noted that there were a few new options that he could select with his free [Rare] unlock that he had gotten from the raid. He wasn’t planning on using it for a minion at any rate, and instead simply went to the Divine Brushnosed Beetleborn. His jaw dropped at the fact that they costed one-hundred-fifty mana per minion. That could either be from the fact that they were a new species, or they had a lot more power and potential than his fairies. His only hint towards the truth was the fact that its rank was [Undefined].
“Alright… Herc i am going to make you a friend. But you are an expensive people. So I am only going to be able to buy one for now, and then eventually we will get you a spawner for more.” Red warned, not wanting to leave the beetle all alone just because he was pinching pennies. He wondered what the higher tier minions would cost him when they started becoming more regularly available.
“That’s fine by me, Boss. So long as Ole Herc has someone to shoot the breeze with, then I will be a okay.” The beetle beamed as he gave a thumbs up, setting down the glass of lemonade that his second set of arms had been holding. The golden beetle man turned to watch the second of his species be made.
Red selected the button and felt a hearty pull of mana from himself that wisped and twisted through the air. It sank to the ground and began to coalesce into a bulky shape that was a bit bigger than Herc. Slowly the crimson mist faded into golds and whites as a new figure was brought to life on the porch. The second of the Beetleborn was different from the original. She was half a foot taller, which still put her at a very diminutive height. Both sets of her arms were thick, going along with the added bulk to her form. She looked like she had a few pounds on Herc for sure. Red also noted that their bodies were not exactly the same as when they had been beetles. The ivory chitin that made their faceplates and horns was now plates across their body. The female that had just been spawned had a series of six plates on her underside that looked quite thick. The last bit of dimorphism was the fact that the bristles of her mustache were copper instead of silver.
“I guess I sho-“ Red was cut off by a scream from Herc as the small beetle man charged with his horns pointed at the female, opening the claw wide before grabbing her torso and lifting her up with surprising strength. The female squirmed, having barely existed for a few moments before she was seized by the male. He shook his head like a wild animal before tossing her off of the porch and into the dirt.
“What the hell was that!?” Red shouted as he looked at the friendly janitor and then at the female that was picking herself off of the ground. Herc rushed off of the porch before Red could insist an answer, jumping up with his azure wings fluttering before tackling the female in a delighted hug. Red was deeply confused, but decided not to question it as he heard the two of them laughing so happily.
“Well, i guess so long as they are happy that’s what matters.” He shrugged before pointing at the female. “Megara.” He said, watching her stiffen for a moment before resuming the interaction with Herc, more awareness to her eyes.
Red smiled and took a breath, feeling like things were finally starting the upswing from that horrible raid battle.