Lair Page - Lair of Izaark
Upgrade
Effect
Cost
(EP)
Sleeping Quarters (Upgrade)
Transforms the boss’ sleeping quarters.
300
Reinforced Gate
Transforms the iron doors into a large gate
250
Storage Area
(Upgrade)
Expands the storage area.
Creates containers and separate spaces.
150
Mushroom Farm
Creates a small cave system for the cultivation of mushrooms
120
Forge
Creates a basic smithy.
500
Kitchen
Creates a small kitchen and mess hall.
200
Sleeping Quarters
Creates rooms and buildings to comfortably house followers.
240
Study
Extends the Boss’ Sleeping Quarters and creates a small library within.
350
Escape Tunnel
Creates an escape route to the surface of Gaia.
100
I wanted everything, that was the issue. Neglecting my lair page would do no one any favours, but with it’s constant changes and updates I felt a little overwhelmed.
My own sleeping quarters were fine, and with the goblins now being stronger, the iron door would suffice. We had barely filled the large storage area, so that could also wait. Everything else seemed so necessary, hence my hesitation. A smithy would be the start of true progression. An equipped workforce, and, in time, soldiers. It was a must.
I swallowed hard, and dropped the 500 EP into it. Frakko had finally awoken, and while we had much to talk about, I was happy to let him rest. He had asked to see the next time the lair changes. Apparently, he had been apoplectic when he awoke to find himself not only in his master’s lair, but that it had done some grand magic while he was asleep. “Over there!” He yelled as he pointed his now muscular arm towards the goblin barracks.
I turned in time to see the wall behind the barracks shift. As though the rock turned to liquid, it flowed away and seemed to seep into the floor. As it did, a sizable building was uncovered, like sand washed away from a fossil. Sporting a distinctly different design than I had expected, a theory was being confirmed. I had explained it to Frakko and Salan and they had agreed.
When people joined the group additional lair options opened specifically for them. I expected this building was a result of Logue’s addition to the group. As more of the forge appeared, this hypothesis became more likely. There were runes on the outside of the building and, looking inside, runes on the anvil, smelter and other equipment. It all looked incredibly dwarven. Despite his earlier anger at it being assumed he would work in a smithy, Logue was as excited as a child looking through a sweetshop window.
“Oh, wow.” Logue’s new favourite phrase, which was said consistently as he looked over the new forge. I left him and a few goblins to it, with Logue suddenly ecstatic to have fresh, untainted minds to share some blacksmithing knowledge with. It was costly, but I could see the wheels in motion, fires igniting in Logue and these goblins.
Stolen novel; please report.
Leaving them to their either rekindled or newfound passions for metalworking, I returned to the lair page. I had 545 EP left to use meaning that I couldn’t choose all of the things I wanted right now. Saying goodbye in my heart to the study for now, I chose the additional sleeping quarters and the kitchen. Again, the walls of the cavern melted and morphed, leaving functioning buildings in their place.
The sleep quarters again proved that my lair was being built with my followers in mind. I didn’t mind it. I would not be like Byzametiya, deeper in the cave system and content to be alone. I watched as two buildings were created in a new expanse. One was stout, with intricate carvings in the stone. Low, squat windows looked out into the lair, but there was some kind of magic at work on them too.
Next door to what was obviously Logue’s new house was the most beautiful cottage I had ever seen. Salan, who had been observing as I upgraded my lair, gasped as it revealed itself from the stone.
“That’s… impossible.” She muttered, walking past me and going into the building. I followed close behind, intrigued to what she meant. The only things she said, inspecting the house, were different denials of what she could see. “This can’t be here, though.” She said in response to a white bowl inlaid with a blue stone. “It just doesn’t make any sense,” was remarked as she picked up a brown cushion from an armchair, squeezing it tightly in a hug. When Salan turned to me and looked up from her new abode, her eyes were brimming with emotion.
“Thank you.” Tears began to fall as she expressed unexpected gratitude. My best guess, until she explained further, was that this house was more special than just being obviously elven.
“You’re… welcome, Salan.” In truth, I had just wanted my own quarters to myself. I had expected a carbon copied collection of houses possibly, but my own abilities continued to shock me. “Is this place familiar to you?”
She released a quick, sharp laugh. “That… my lord… would be an understatement. This building was lost to fire…” I felt unable to ask more, that answer was enough for now. I bade Salan rest and, as I so loved to do now, took to the air.
Flying, I had found, was a lot like swimming. It had taken some getting used to, but my body’s instincts took over where my own experience was lacking. I bore a bruise or two from a less-than-lordly tumble, but I could now fly. Considering the underground, and lack of open skies, it wasn’t the most useful of my abilities but it was definitely the most fun.
I surveyed the new lair. I had come a long way in a short time. The cragged, spikey and uncomfortable cave with a small alcove and wooden door now held a bustle of activity. A small hamlet worth of workers, increasingly diverse, had turned the space from a cavern to a home. The walls were dotted with glowing mushrooms, Grannda and another goblin, Broonch, had set them up. A slow supply line of ore and materials would begin flowing now that the smithy was there to use them.
At 115 EP left, I considered creating the path to the surface which the escape route promised but left it for now. My worry was that an escape route could just as easily be an entrance, and without knowing where that entrance might appear, it was just too risky. I saved my points and took a deep, contented breath. This was working. To say that Hadonis and his group had set me back would be a callous understatement, but it hadn’t been entirely fruitless I thought, looking at the smithy and new homes.
Upon my previous return, as I pulled out the soulbound key to my lair without thinking, I grew confused. Grannda had been given the key, so how did I have it now? The answer was just plain cool. I could make as many keys as I wanted, and could remotely remove them too. I kept my ability to lock all of these poor souls into my lair to myself, as I never planned to actually use it, but I gave Frakko, Salan and Logue each a key. There was a risk to giving free access to them, but the loyalty it instilled was worth it.
With that done, I continued with my plan for the day. Going to the storage area, I gathered the breastplate and the sword of the triad. I had given Salan the ring of night vision, which had previously been worn by the woman I called Baldie. Aeya, as her name had apparently been, was Hadonis’ sister and a real piece of work. Salan had nearly turned the ring down, but when she had put it on the benefits were too clear for stubbornness to prevail. That was good.
I collected a few large handfuls of valuable mushrooms and minerals that had found their way into storage, too. Salan had been helpful in explaining which fungi were rare and Logue had done the same for minerals. After asking them if any were worth keeping, the two had taken a small pile of rocks and mycelium, leaving me the rest.
So, I had my trade goods.
Now, to find trading partners. I had one solid idea. The underground city I had seen so long ago was now quite reachable due to my wings. It was called Remula, and Salan had mentioned it earlier. According to Logue, the city had been founded many years ago by a particularly powerful dark elf. When I asked if that meant “drow”, a race I was familiar with from fantasy, Salan shivered. To call them such was apparently bad luck around her people, simply calling them the others.
My mind raced. Another potentially beleaguered race? Dwarves, elves and pretty much everything that wasn’t human or god pacted were treated as lower caste individuals in the country above apparently. More allies for my eventual assault on those lands would be fantastic. If nothing else, my hope was that I could harbour good will to them and facilitate trade of some kind. The sword of the triad specifically seemed very potent, and would make a brilliant gift if given correctly.
So, I left the safety and bustle of my lair. I had come to consider Frakko, Grannda, Salan and Logue as… commanders, or lieutenants, or whatever made sense in that situation. If anything, Frakko would be the mayor of my little town. Grannda would be the matron, Salan a healer and Logue the foreman. With those ideas in mind, I set them all to work and told them not to worry if I wasn’t back for two days.
“What if you are gone longer?” Grannda asked the obvious question.
“Then you are allowed to assume I’ve been captured or killed. Live your lives accordingly with that in mind.” Without another word, I went through the iron door of my cave and left. Down towards the location of the chesmite massacre, I was pleased to see the bodies mostly gone. A fair amount had been taken by my goblins and used for food which Logue and Salan wouldn’t eat. I was hopeful that the carapace would prove useful, but time would tell.
I dropped into the poisonous area and made my way through the small tunnels that branched away from it. Before long, I was looking down into a hole which I had seen before. The lights and obvious movement from below were enticing. I had lived in a large city on Earth, and the bustle of life from below me was nostalgic.
“So, this is Remula. Let’s see what mischief I can get up to down there.” I spoke aloud to myself, rubbed my hands together and with a flourish I would be embarrassed to do again, I cannonballed through the opening and began falling towards the undercity.