"A catapult and a ballista are two completely different things, " Beryl said. "But this is neither."

The troll looked down at the crude drawing his own hands had created under Stew's influence. "This reminds me of some ridiculously dangerous goblin invention. The steam would be under tremendous pressure. I don't think even reinforced stone would be strong enough to contain it, assuming you had some source of tremendous heat to make the steam in the first place." He drew his arms back as if pulling a bow. "That's why the Egyptian steam ballista design uses steam power to draw back a cable. The cable can release all of that stored power at once to launch the bolt. It uses far less steam, and it is much safer to operate."

Stew remembered something from the Lunar Forge menu. "What do you know about Living Stone?"

"It's delicious." Beryl rubbed one hairy ear thoughtfully. "But, yes, with its ability to heal, it could work for something like this. It's extremely rare, though. And producing it would take more Mana than even a dungeon is likely to have without a constant stream of delvers to sacrifice." Beryl paused. "I once heard that living stone might be extracted from the shells of Roc eggs. Rocs are one of those ridiculous things the Titans created, so you might ask them unless you have an aviary on some deep level we haven't seen?"

"Something like that. How much stone do you need to make a dozen of these?"

Stew could feel the conflict in Beryl's thoughts, excitement mixed with doubt. "If you have living stone and the mana to feed it, we could build one with about 800 kilos. And. If you have that much, I might have some even more interesting suggestions for training the creature."

Now, Stew was the one confused. "Training."

"Living stone. These conans."

"Cannons."

"The cannons, should we be able to build one and feed, assuming we could feed it the mana it requires to survive, it would grow in power like any other dungeon creature. I would also expect creating it would add a schema to your repertoire of monsters."

"Alive? And I might be able to spawn these?" Stew took control of Beryl's hand again and picked up the stylus, scratching more lines onto the drawing. "How much would these add to the cost?'

Beryl shrugged. "Maybe another 50 kilos, maybe less, but you'll need four for balance, so 100 kilos. And I would add these," Beryl added two more long, clawed legs to match the two Stew had drawn and a pair of bulging eyes near the back of the barrel. "But what kind of projectile are you going to fire, spears, stones?"

"Something much better." Stew set the Lunar Forges to work, turning out Living Stone. "I'll have the materials here in a couple of hours. While we wait, I want to talk about something else I think might be brand new to this world."

"Something new?"

"Quality control."

They talked for another hour. Beryl, despite his doubts, had taken the cannons in stride, but after Stew's halting description of what he remembered from his three mandatory Six Sigma classes two years ago, the troll Production Analyst nearly fell to his knees with a shouting religious epiphany.

"Wonders!" Beryl waved to the other trolls nearby and started excitedly chanting as if it were a spell of its own. "Define! Measure! Analyze! Improve! Control!"

Stew couldn't decide if he was comforted that they seemed to take the idea of quality seriously or if he was creeped out that they took it SO seriously. These were, according to their own claims, the bunch that built this whole world. Now, they were gathered around Beryl, watching him draw a fishbone diagram on the back of the googley-eyed cannon sketch. Stew was halfway between "Look what I did!" and "What have I done?" He wondered if things would have gone better or worse if he had been able to remember what a "sigma" was.

Back on the first level, he felt Raek return, this time with Theus, Garrik, and two sturdy laborers carrying a small wooden chest between them.

"We have the gold," Raek said. He motioned to the men who set the chest down and left, walking quickly with several glances back over their shoulders at the dungeon and unreadable expressions.

Raek opened the chest and let Stew see the loot through his eyes. It was full of small, irregularly shaped golden coins, like a half-melted pirate's treasure.

Stew was afraid to admit he had no idea how many coins they owed or how to count the value, so he sent for Femur, and told the goblin to bring one of the false cores that was still in good shape. To Raek, He covered his ignorance with the actual truth. "I don't have much use for gold myself. Give it to Femur. It's all for him anyway."

He could feel Raek's shock and enjoyed seeing the consternation on Theus' face when Raek repeated what Stew said.

Garrik was the first to ask the question in the air. "Why?"

Femur arrived and strolled up to the chest with a satisfied grin. "That will do fine." He bent down and ran his fingers through the coins like he was stirring a warm bath. For all Stew knew, he might swim it. Come to think of it, what did goblins need with gold?

Stew opened the mental broadcast to include everyone again. Only Theus, lacking a current contract, was excluded. "Now that you've kept your end of the bargain. Let's talk about alliances. I would like to have that conversation we discussed with Caesar. What are your thoughts?"

Garrik surprised Stew by stepping forward, looking up at the stone ceiling over the goblin market as if Stew was some god or beast looming over him. "Speak through me. Until you have a better option, I can help negotiate with Rome."

Stew moved his attention into Garrik's mind and found the young fighter deeply uncomfortable with the attention, but his intentions were clear. He saw Stew as a combination treasure trove and potentially powerful ally against the Helvetians. There was a deep distrust there, too, and some confusion over just what Stew was. There was a cautious willingness to find out. There was also a powerful undercurrent of attachment for Eira that seemed both private and complicated, so Stew ignored that as well as he could. He did keep in mind that Garrik's support might be more because Eira had thrown her lot in with him than for any other reason.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Stew thought it over. It made some sense. The Romans were more likely to listen to one of their own. Besides, Garrik had Management Hair. In Stew's experience that counted more than skill when talking to corporate. But he still had the same reservations he had shared with Raek earlier. Garrik was a Roman and loyal to Rome, and to Caesar.

To Garrik only, he said, "If you do this, can you keep your own opinions to yourself and repeat only what I tell you to say, even if you don't like it?"

He felt the current of distrust flare in Garrik, but there was a firmness there, too, a commitment. Garrik spoke aloud so that everyone nearby could hear. "I swear by Hercules and Pollux, that I will faithfully represent your interests and accurately repeat your words or may I be bound and burned and slain by the sword."

Romans. I can't tell if he's being dramatic or hardcore. From the grim look on Theus and Raek's faces, they took him seriously. The words echoed in the mind link with the other minions and level bosses, and Stew felt an echo of concern from Eira. So Stew was inclined to believe this was a big deal. "I accept your oath," he said, sharing that back out to everyone.

Theus couldn't hear Stew but watched Garrik's face and nodded. "That answers our earlier question then."

Raek spoke. "Caesar has already indicated he would be willing to meet." Raek glances toward the muddy rubble that had been the consulate. "He offered to meet in his headquarters pavilion this time."

"That will be fine," Stew spoke through Garrik to get the hang of it. "I just need to finish something first."

He switched to a private conversation with Femur. "Ready to send out that quest?"

"We'll need more rats and a bigger cave," Femur said.

"Done." Stew put the trolls to work building out more goblin caves on level 1. He made sure to specify large plantings of the Cauldron Cap mushrooms. He was about to need all of those he could get. Then, using Femur's voice he said, "The rest of you stand down there, off the steps."

Then he brought up the Hidden River Goblin quest again. This time, he was able to submit the quest without any issues. Goblins of all ages began to appear around Femur in ones, twos, and threes. There was some shouting and hissing, but nobody stabbed each other.

Theus, Garrik, and Raek stood stiffly in the mud, looking up at the gathering of goblins. They looked concerned, but nobody reached for a weapon or lobbed a fireball.

"Sorry, I should have warned you," Stew said through Garrik. "These are the new goblins for the market. We can go now."

The three humans looked at each other but said nothing. They turned and headed back down the steps. Behind them, a cacophony of loud goblin voices tried to talk over each other.

He had Garrik take the false core from Femur; then they left the newly busy level boss to explain things to the other goblins.

The working band of trolls left their level and started up the stairs to build out the new caves. He was going to be too busy to watch them closely, so he hoped they wouldn't do too much damage while they were at it. He could hear them chanting about quality and standards as they marched up the stairs from their level. It was pretty cringeworthy, but if it kept them from collapsing his first level, he'd take it.

Meanwhile, he ordered another false core from his lunar forges and minted a brand new level 1 controller to lead a group of 10 golems out of the dungeon and up the mountain. He loaded each of them with a single Mana Cube and made sure to program the controller to keep them well apart.

The route he gave them would take them straight up the mountain, then back down above the pass following some goat paths he had picked out from his panopticon and a discussion with the trolls. The Roman ships would be able to see the golems clearly, but that was the idea. He didn't want them to think he was trying to pull any tricks. Well, no tricks on the Romans, at least.

It only took Raek and the others a few minutes to walk across the field to the headquarters tent. Caesar seemed to be waiting for them, just as Raek had promised. The guards waved them all through.

The Consul stood over a map on a low wooden table carved into a relief map. Several other officers stood around him, including Spartacus.

I need one of these, Stew thought. He was glad to see the route he had picked for the golems still looked like the best option.

Glowing lights like tiny fireflies glowed from several places on the map. Red clumps formed orderly lines in a square near some blue lights. This looked like the Roman camp and the area around the construction. More red lights moved around in the air above, probably the Roman airships.

He could see a line of yellow lights moving up the mountain, about where he would expect to see the golems, but his attention was drawn more to an area some distance to the north, in what appeared to be a wide valley, much higher in the mountains.

A huge mass of purple lights collected there in long columns. Two moved through the air above. He couldn't tell their size, but they seemed to move much faster than the Roman airships.

Caesar spoke as they drew closer. "Your scrying and a drop of blood from one of your prisoners gave us the affinity we needed to track the Helvetian host." When he looked up, he addressed only Garrik, as if none of the others were in the room. "Good work."

"Thank you, Consul, but I had little to do with it. The dungeon gave us these prisoners." Garrik gestured with the false core in his hand. "And the dungeon has asked me to speak for it. If it pleases you, we may continue the discussion regarding an alliance."

Caesar gave Garrik a thoughtful frown. "I still have reservations. First, the flood. Now this." He waved at the yellow dots.

"That is something the dungeon would like to discuss." Garrik took a breath and gave Stew control.

"The expedition to the pass is something I thought might help slow down our visitors," Stew shrugged. "Also, I wanted to test something well away from the dungeon or your camp."

"And what should I expect? Another deluge?"

"I've had a word with the trolls. I believe they will be more careful in the future." Stew gestured back toward the dungeon. "You have probably already noticed that I don't know very much about this world. I have to admit, I didn't know that I needed to be so careful with offers of help from trolls. We didn't have trolls where I come from."

The Romans reacted to this, some looking shocked, but Spartacus only looked grim.

Caesar's expression didn't change at all. "An Incarnate. I did suspect as much. That implies some very grave things."

Stew nodded. "That's what I hear, but I hope it also means I have some advantages that may make this a very good alliance." He pointed to the yellow dots. "For instance, this may turn out to be nothing, but if it does what I hope it will, we may have something useful to hold off the Helvetians."

"And if it doesn't?" There was a loud noise outside as something huge hit the ground. A giant rock unfolded into a golem the size of a tree, painted with legion colors. Three more landed beside it and rose to stand in a line. Then they all turned and marched over to the treeline, where they began ripping up whole trees by the roots and stacking them like firewood. "I plan fortifications, but there is no time to raise anything like what we need to hold off a host like this."

I really want some of those, Stew thought. Aloud, he said, "If my test doesn't do anything useful, I have other options." He was bluffing. He really wasn't sure his army of barely trained golems would slow down a real army very much, even if his controllers were getting better at formations in their wargames.

He was bluffing, that is, right up until the moment he finished the sentence. That's when someone new joined the mental connection he was keeping open with all of his minions and monsters.

A new mind appeared, a very focused, hard mind, a mind looking for a target.