Novels2Search

Chapter 10

A tall, distinguished-looking elf strode through the entrance portal with an air of quiet confidence. Thrash immediately recognised the telltale signs of a Wood Elf - his skin had that subtle, earthy tone, like he’d spent his entire life beneath the sunlight filtering through ancient trees. Immediately, Thrash knew that this wasn’t going to be a regular visit. The elf carried himself with an air of purpose.

The elf’s long, auburn hair flowed gracefully past his chest, catching the room’s minimal light with a glossy sheen that made it appear almost alive, like sunlit autumn leaves. After a single step, Thrash could tell there was something about the way he moved, effortlessly blending the elegance of a warrior with the grace of someone of high birth. The elf’s sharp, alert eyes took in his surroundings with a calm, knowing gaze.

His eyes met Thrash’s, a hint of recognition flickering in them. ‘Ah,’ he said, his voice deep and clear. ‘I heard that our esteemed Brigwell was replaced by a human.’

He said the word ‘human’ as if it were dirt on the bottom of his shoe. Thrash barely caught the subtle rudeness, but Mush missed it entirely.

‘Master Doren,’ Mush chirped in greeting. ‘It has been ages, darling.’

Master of the Black Mountains, Mush passed along to Thrash on his interface. A dungeon that is very close to reaching Rank S.

Thrash listened, then nodded to Doren, bowing his head slightly. ‘It’s an honour to receive you, Master Doren. Welcome to Starr Eternal, Mines for the Everyday Hero. What brings you here?’

Thrash inspected the elf before him, focusing on the information now rolling across the screen in small white print.

Doren: Level 19

Race: Wood Elf

Class: Dungeon Master

Dungeon: Black Mountains, Rank A

An achievement notification dinged, Thrash catching the description before turning back to his visitor.

Commiserations! You have earned the achievement ‘Welcome to My Crib!’

You had your first visitor in the dungeon! Mummy will put the kettle on.

Your home of horrors has attracted its first victim - er, guest. Don’t forget to send out your customer satisfaction survey.

Reward: 100x Dungeon Experience Points

'Hm,’ the elf said, wiping a long finger across the wooden chair that Una had left behind, inspecting it for dust. His eyes continued to roam the room, a slight glint in them. ‘It’s a shame. Such a shame.’

Thrash felt a pang of annoyance. ‘What’s a shame?’

Doren stood still, like the trunk of a great redwood - unmoving, permanent. His eyes thinned as he looked at the sword laying across the counter, obviously inspecting it. ‘That these dungeons have fallen to such lowly hands.’

Thrash couldn’t tell whether the noise Mush made was angry or agreeable. He nudged her. Does this guy have a problem with me? She didn’t answer.

‘Brigwell was a beast among his kind.’ Doren added. ‘Truly -’

‘So I’ve heard,’ Thrash interrupted before the elf could continue, thinking of all the comments Mush had made. ‘Let me ask again, I’m not sure you were listening. What can I do for you? Do you want to go down into the dungeons?’

This time, Thrash felt the full force of the elf’s power - all nineteen levels of it. Doren sat down, crossing one leg over the other, his back straight and strong. ‘Be careful, boy. You’re talking to the highest-ranking Dungeon Master of the Black Mountains. One of the highest in the Starr Galaxy.’

Mush finally messaged Thrash. Other than his boss.

Who is? Thrash asked Mush.

Very, very strong.

Thrash decided to press the elf. ‘Highest ranking at Level 19? That seems low.’

Doren smiled, dark and mysterious, ignoring him. ‘I heard that Starr Galaxy had put an unqualified Dungeon Master in place, but you seem even more unsuitable than I imagined. Where did you train, boy?’

Thrash glowered. ‘I don’t see how that’s your business.’

The elf rolled his pale green eyes. ‘You and I have met plenty of times before, Thrash. Don’t play coy.’

That took Thrash by surprise. His neck involuntarily jerked up, locking eyes with Doren. ‘You and I have met?’

Doren nodded, sighing. ‘Indeed. Before you were shipped off with the trash, though. Tell me, why were you expelled? It’s been quite the talk of the galaxy. We’ve all been wondering where you were.’

Mush whirred in Thrash’s head. That is confidential information, Thrash. Mummy says to ignore it.

Thrash pushed her comment from his interface. ‘Again, I don’t see how that’s any of your business? If you and I have met, why the pretence? Why pretend not to know me? Do I owe you money?’

Doren laughed. It sounded like wind rustling through grass, like the sun rising above the horizon, like the spray of the sea on a summer's day. ‘I’d heard a rumour - that’s all. I wanted to see if it was really you here.’

‘And?’ Thrash asked, hands raised. ‘Are you satisfied?’

The elf sighed. ‘No. I don’t know who you are, but you aren’t Thrash.’

Thrash was taken aback, frowning. ‘Excuse me?’

‘Oh, I can still feel the tense ferocity, the anger in your breath,’ the elf said, ‘but you are fundamentally different. Your body is small, your face is soft, and your eyes lack the terror that they used to inflict. It’s as though you’ve -’

He trailed off, eyes moving to the top of Thrash’s head. ‘Oh, that’s interesting. What did you do?’

Thrash felt the scar on his head pulse, the prickly sensation of the pacifier at work. ‘I moved on. As you should be doing.’

‘Liar,’ Doren grinned. ‘You loved your life. You were moved on - that pacifier says it all. Why? I always expected that you’d go off of the rails, Thrash, son of Thron, but I want to know why.’

Thrash gripped the counter, his mind roaring. He wanted to be angrier, to fight and tear at this arrogant creature, but his voice came out calm and unbothered. ‘You expected wrong.’

‘Admirable answer, but I think not,’ Doren said. ‘I first met you six years ago and you utterly obliterated my dungeon. You destroyed everything - everything. Sponsors can lose money in situations like that, and believe me, ours lost money. The Black Mountains even lost a rank, believe it or not.’

That can happen? Thrash asked Mush.

Indeed. Some blows cost more than just gold. If sponsors back out, the dungeon loses prowess.

Thrash considered this. ‘I was good at what I did.’

‘And you’re not anymore?’

Bzz, Mush said, pulling his attention. Trick question - intended to frustrate you.

‘I’m good at different things.’

‘Hah!’ the elf laughed. ‘You were a monster, Thrash. You hungered for absolute victory and nothing less - just like your father.’

He stood, cracking his neck with one of his hands. ‘I welcome this development. I feel only pleasure seeing you here, reduced to nothing. How pleased I was to walk through that door.’ His eyes inspected Thrash again. ‘Level 5… What a shame, boy.’

Thrash glowered. God damn did he want to remove that pacifier. ‘Thank you for visiting. You can fuck off now.’

The elf tutted. ‘Such a shame.’ He turned to leave but paused for one more comment. ‘The sword, boy. How much do you want for it?’

To Thrash’s complete and utter surprise, Mush answered. ‘She isn’t for sale.’

Doren snapped a glance at her. ‘Quiet, AI. How much for the sword?’

Thrash hummed. For him to ask twice… Well, he knew that the sword was Divine, but what did that really mean for him? Was it really that rare? He faced the elf. ‘The sword isn’t for sale.’

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

Doren snorted, arrogance radiating from him. ‘I’ll be in touch, Thrash. Be careful now. You had a lot - and I mean a lot - of enemies. Once word gets out that you’re here,’ he gestured distastefully, ‘then you might have some problems.’

‘I’m sure word will get out soon enough,’ Thrash glowered. ‘You’ve made that abundantly clear.’

‘They won’t hear it from me,’ Doren said. ‘No, I much prefer this outcome. This works very well. After our second ever interaction, well… if you could remember, even the old you would agree with this form of punishment.’

‘I am the old me,’ Thrash said, feeling only the slightest touch of his Level 5 power. He needed more. ‘Now if you’d be so kind to waft your disgusting, warty body out of my dungeon?’

Doren sneered, but before he could say anything, Mush rushed forward. Her rusty body collided with the elf, a brief moment of shock plastered on his face before falling back into the portal. In an instant, he was gone. Mush moved back to Sigrid.

‘I’m sorry, darling, Mummy is here,’ Mush said. ‘You aren’t being sold to anyone.’

Thrash rubbed a hand over his damp forehead, breathing out a sigh of relief. ‘Thanks, Mush.’

Mush beeped. ‘Brigwell didn’t like that old, egotistical bastard. Even Mush prefers the man-child to that one.’

Thrash felt his lips jerk involuntarily, a smile on his face. ‘What would I do without your compliments, Mush?’

‘Perish,’ she said. ‘After all, this is still very much a mother and son dynamic. You require my support.’

‘Sure thing, Mush.’

----------------------------------------

Thrash spent a short while composing a message to Una, slightly concerned. He deliberated for a moment before pressing send.

1 second ago: Thrash: You said not to message, but this is important. We received a visit from Doren, of the Black Mountains dungeon. He knew me and made some vague threats. Also noticed the pacifier. Also wanted the sword. Could be something for a representative to review?

He waited for a moment, not really expecting a reply, but his interface pinged a couple of seconds later.

1 second ago: Una: Thanks for the heads up. You were bound to be recognised eventually.

‘That’s it?’ Thrash asked, looking at Mush. ‘Did you see that response?’

Another ping sounded, Mush raising her display eyebrows at him. ‘The man-child is inpatient, Sigrid. You will learn this.’

‘Sorry, Mush,’ Thrash said unapologetically.

5 seconds ago: Una: Not the patron I expected for you today. Unsure how Doren jumped the list. Do you remember him? If you didn’t proceed into the dungeon, keep an eye out for the other patron. It’s still early.

She’d ignored his question about Sigrid. ‘Apparently, Doren wasn’t the -’

‘I read everything that you read, Thrash,’ Mush reminded him. ‘See, Sigrid, his attachment is just relentless. No wonder he thinks of me as his mother.’

‘I do not -’ Thrash started, rising to the bait before halting. ‘You know what, sure I do. Never mind.’

1 second ago: Thrash: Don’t remember him. Keep me updated. Thanks.

‘Why did he want Sigrid, Mush?’ Thrash asked, expecting the answer to be as helpful as usual.

‘Because Sigrid is a wonderful, beautiful sword,’ Mush swooned.

He grunted, pacing around the room for a moment, unsure of how best to proceed. He’d been waiting two weeks for a visitor, biding his time until he could finally start doing something important. Now that one had stopped by, he felt tense. He didn’t even want to check his new achievement. He remembered very little about his life before the dungeon, and while it certainly bothered him, it bothered him more that he could have upset a lot of people. If he had hundreds of enemies, it would make his life much harder as a Dungeon Master. He’d been thrown a bone, but that bone was sinking fast. He sighed, sitting on the chair and bringing up the Vendor Exchange.

He spent a while filtering through the messages he’d received on his three items. He had one hundred and sixteen to read through - barely any asking about the Glade Stone; most were related to Sheila’s Leg Staff. Mush had been right - some people were offering more than what was worth for a named weapon. Out of all the potential offers, one stood out to him. The name was ‘Sam the Wise’. It made him smile.

‘I want an epithet, Mush,’ Thrash said as he opened up the message.

‘Are you thinking of ‘Thrash the Man-Child’? Otherwise, I would refrain. It makes you look like an amateur.’

‘Don’t you already think that?’ Thrash rolled his eyes.

‘I do, but a mother always does.’

He stuck up a choice finger, directed at Mush, and then opened the message, skimming through. The sound of an achievement whirred again. Thrash nodded in approval. ‘I like this guy.’

‘He’s too flowery for Sheila,’ Mush said, offering her opinion. ‘Sheila deserves a fighter.’

Dear Mr. Thrash,

I’m not one for big, fancy words, but a fine item in your care has just caught my attention: that fine item being Sheila’s Leg Staff. I reckon such a staff could come in mighty handy for a fellow like me, working hard to keep things right and proper.

I’d be much obliged if you would consider selling the weapon to me. I’m a low level, but I promise to take good care of her, and she’d be in the company of a fine group of adventuring folk. I see that you’re a Dungeon Master, so I’ll even send you a barrel of ale and a pouch of pipe-tobacco to keep your evenings warm if that sweetens the deal!

I understand if you’re fond of her and can’t part with her just yet, but if there’s anything that can be worked out, I’d be more than happy to oblige.

Yours respectfully,

Sam the Wise

‘Nope,’ Mush said. ‘I don’t like him. Sheila can do better.’

‘Mush,’ Thrash said, exasperated. ‘Listen to some of these others and tell me what you would do, okay.’

Thrash pulled up some of the messages associated with Sheila's item.

Sender: Unknown

Subject: SHEILA - TOP OFFER

Message: Yo - hit me up, dawg. The staff is LEGIT. 10x gold pieces.

Sender: Unknown

Subject: (empty)

Message: Sheila isn’t worth much. Can get a different staff for 5 gold pieces. Will offer you 4.

Sender: Unknown

Subject: SHEILA THE STAFF

Message: Time waster. Lower the price.

Sender: Unknown

Subject: TRASH

Message: Nobody wants your crap. Take it somewhere else.

Mush spent a moment scanning the messages. ‘I now agree with your original sentiment, Thrash. Wait - Sheila is CRAP? Sheila is not crap, Unknown Sender, Sheila is a -’

‘It’s okay, Mush,’ Thrash told her, but she carried on reading.

‘Sheila is a WHORE?’ Mush screamed, fuming at Thrash. ‘Sheila would rip the bones from your tiny little body… Where is their name? I want a name to shout, Thrash! Let me message this impolite, INCORRECT, child.’

Thrash allowed a moment of time for her to calm. He sighed. ‘Sam the Wise it is.’

Mush beeped in agreement, though she continued to mutter. ‘They all insult my girls. Thrash hates Sigrid, Unknown Sender hates Sheila - I just don’t understand where I went wrong.’

Thrash smiled to himself. ‘I like Sigrid, Mush. Don’t worry yourself; Sam will treat the staff well.’

‘You see, that’s why you don’t want an epithet,’ Mush said, changing the subject. ‘You’re already calling him Sam.’

Thrash shrugged. ‘I still think that they’re cool.’

Thrash scanned the message from Sam and then found the reply button. It was set up differently to his private messages. Where private messages popped up in the bottom left of his screen, easy to read and reply to, the Vendor Exchange messaging system acted more like an email chain. Sam’s message was at the top, and he could draft his reply below.

Dear Sam the Wise,

Thank you for your thoughtful message.

Sheila’s Leg Staff is yours. I can think of no better place for such a fine item than in the hands of someone with the wisdom and heart to use it well.

Regarding the price, you didn’t mention an amount. Please feel free to reply with your offer, or you can visit me at Starr Eternal, Mines for the Everyday Hero, where we can finalise the details in person. The door is always open, and I would welcome the chance to make a new friend. Besides, there's nothing like sharing a drink and a smoke with good company.

Rest assured, I will offer a fair rate for Sheila. I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Yours sincerely,

Thrash

Dungeon Master, Starr Eternal, Mines for the Everyday Hero

‘That’s too formal,’ Mush said before he could send it. ‘You’re an Adventurer; most Adventurers will offer gold for something and then make an exchange. Look at all of these nice words. Eugh!’

‘I’m a Dungeon Master in a dungeon with no patrons, Mush. I need to be nice; we want people to come and visit, do we not?’

Mush made a shrugging motion. ‘Mush likes it with or without people.’

‘I thought that Mush most wanted a bedroom? Which means we need gold, which means that we need patrons. Understand?’

Mush looked as though she were going to retort but stopped herself. ‘As you were, man-child.’

‘Thanks, Mush.’

An achievement had pinged for sending a message via the Vendor Exchange.

Commiserations! You have earned the achievement ‘New Number. Who Dis?’

You sent your first message to another adventurer!

So, you’re sliding into someone’s DMs, are you? Don't do anything to get blocked. Or do. Mummy is tracking your digital footprint, though.

Reward: You have earned the title 'Digital Nomad'.

NOTE: This title increases your persuasiveness in dialogues, making it easier to negotiate deals from NPCs. Your base charisma gains an additional 10% increase.

That was a good bonus. Thrash needed to have a proper look at the NPC offered items. That would have to be later. He looked at the clock. It was nearing midday, his enthusiasm and excitement waning. He sighed, tapping his fingers on his legs. He had been hoping - really, really hoping - for a good day today. He had gone to bed with the dream of making a new contact, of being able to message someone other than an Orbite. He wanted to quest into the dungeon and level up. Now, he mostly wanted to hide, to make sure no one else like Doren showed up.

Mush buzzed, as if reading his thoughts. ‘You could take Doren.’

Thrash chortled at the vote of confidence. ‘I couldn’t, but thanks for saying so, Mush.’

‘Incoming,’ she suddenly said, changing the subject.

Thrash scratched his head in confusion, but then smiled when a notification dinged within Dungeon Management.

An Adventurer is on their way. Please close all interface windows and await arrival.