Chapter 8. The Jig

Quint and Flimbo sat awkwardly on the first floor of the dungeon, sipping tea.

“So, my boy. You say Woggins is off on… vacation?” Flimbo said jovially while sipping his tea.

“Oh yes, he’d been quite outspoken about wanting to go and see the rainbow blowfish and the pom-pom trees in Bawaii recently.” Quint replied, trying to hide his nerves desperately.

The plump wizard calling himself Flimbo the Great (Flimbo the Plump, Quint knew) had come barreling into his dungeon a few minutes ago.

Though he seemed friendly enough, Quint could feel the pure density of mana rolling off in waves from the man.

Either way, Quint wouldn’t have fallen for the fat man’s act of friendliness even if he hadn’t seen the black beady eyes glint with malice. His ‘arch-nemesis’ was one thing Master Woggins had always liked to complain about once he got into his cups.

“Yes, he did always have a penchant for such frivolities…” Flimbo muttered thoughtfully.

The wizard turned his gaze at the diminutive apprentice before him and suppressed a scoff. He had never deigned to take on an apprentice himself, but it seemed that Woggins was always the soft-hearted fool.

“And you were… called Quint, is that right? Woggins took you in a few years ago?” Flimbo asked.

“Yes, my lord. I shall be forever grateful to him for taking in an orphan like me.”

The boy had a decent amount of mana but abysmal control, he could tell. And he had boiled the water for the tea with actual fire! The audacity. Did he not even know a simple heat water spell?

Flimbo registered a second later that the boy opened his mouth and asked a question, and quickly put a jovial smile back on his face.

“I’m sorry my boy, I was lost in thought while enjoying this tea. What was that?” He asked with a chuckle.

“Er… I asked what brought you all this way here, my lord.” Quint repeated, and then added “I have heard from my master that you have claimed your own domain near the town of Bloober, which is quite a ways east of here. It must have been a long journey.”

The large wizard did scoff this time, and it took Quint an effort of will not to let his eyes wander to his trembling double chin.

“Long journey! Bah! T’was no large feat for my sparrowkin!!” Flimbo exclaimed, gesturing to the large sparrows that were sitting on a table on the other side of the room, pecking excitedly at the cheese-grubs and stick-gum-bugs the friendly mousekin had brought them.

“Indeed, indeed… For much like your master, I have become… a DUNGEON MASTER!” Flimbo exclaimed excitedly, jumping to his feet with surprising speed.

“HAHAHAHA!!!” The large wizard’s reddish and round nose pointed to the heavens themselves as he laughed loudly.

“Er… Oh… Wow… Congratulations.” Quint laughed weakly, raising his cup to hide his face.

Flimbo was not dumb, Quint knew. Far from it. No one who made it very far as a wizard could afford to be dumb.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

However, that level of power came with certain blind spots, it seemed. A more attentive man might have noticed the boy’s forced smiles and obvious discomfort, but for Flimbo the Plump, his own enjoyment of his accomplishments proved too great.

“Yes, yes. But of course. One day my boy, you too may become as half a great a wizard like me!” Flimbo chuckled, clueless that he was sitting in front of a wizard who could possibly be the youngest dungeon master in history.

“As for what brings me here…” Here Flimbo paused, as his beady eyes flickered to the mousekin who had now engaged in some sort of song and dance with the sparrowkin, paws and wings flung over shoulders in a friendly manner.

“Is of course, to congratulate my dear colleague on becoming a dungeon master as well.” Flimbo continued slickly. In another life, perhaps, he might’ve made a great merchant. Of snake-oil, Quint wondered idly before answering.

“Ah, yes. He was quite delighted as well, and I’m sure he’d be thrilled to hear an old colleague has traveled all this way to congratulate him.” Quint chuckled.

“Quite impressive, considering that I’m sure he hadn’t yet reached the seventh-circle…” Flimbo continued.

“Oh, I do not pretend to know the machinations of my master. He wa- has, always been a stickler for overcoming his own limits.” Quint said, feeling a drop of sweat roll down his back.

“Indeed, indeed… And he has entrusted the defense of this… dungeon to you and these… rodents?” Flimbo asked dubiously, looking yet again at his sparrows and mouse’s raucous celebration.

Quint gulped nervously.

“Y-yes, he did m’lord. Only until he gets back, of course.”

Flimbo did notice his nervousness this time, scratching idly at one of his chins.

“Hm… It is not so unusual for a dungeon master, being a skilled wizard as well, to leave his dungeon for extended periods of time. Why, look at me, visiting old friends so shortly after becoming one myself.”

“Yes, he certainly has had the itch to go to a tropical island for some time now. Something about rewarding himself. Besides, he has indeed created many defenses for while he is gone.” Quint quickly supplied, eager to change the topic and deter the man from perhaps delving deeper into the tower and his secrets.

He should have known better.

“Oh indeed? Perhaps you can show me around the tower, and I shall take a look at these defenses and make sure they are airtight.” Flimbo said with a friendly grin.

Quint could see right through his smile, and particularly the bit of spinach stuck between his teeth.

“Er, I’m not sure that’s quite possible…” Quint began, but Flimbo leaned so close his belly almost pushed him back away.

The micekin in the room began chittering a bit nervously, as they felt an uncontrolled spike of anxiety from their master.

Quint knew they would jump to his rescue if he so urged them, but sent out a mental wave to soothe them.

Flimbo chuckled.

“Oh, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind now…” Flimbo smiled, teeth gleaming white.

Quint fidgeted nervously, unable to answer.

“Ah… the defenses are set to… Attack anyone not registered…” He replied, attempting to edge away from the plump wizard’s advances.

The large wizard was determined not to quit.

“Of course, of course. But perhaps if you were to key me in as a visitor to these defenses… I would just like to… inspect the core… for research’s sake, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind… You understand, don’t you?” Flimbo stepped closer, grin taking on a slight maniacal glint.

What would this large wizard do once he discovered that there were no defenses, save a few mousemen and a rat that could shoot sparks? And a bumbling first-circle apprentice that knew a bare handful of spells? And that the bumbling apprentice was a dungeon master?

Quint didn’t have a clue, but he was sure it wasn’t anything good.

His anxiety and nerves had reached a peak, so much so that the very tower seemed to quiver with tension (to him, at least).

As Flimbo closed in to whisper something probably enticing to Quint, they felt a powerful burst of mana explode and wash over them from the top of the tower.

Everyone collectively gasped as a blue specter of old Woggins drifted down from the ceiling.

You dare loiter in mine dungeon, seducing my apprentice, Flimbo?

The spectral voice thundered from everywhere at once and shook Flimbo’s jowls.

“A mana projection?! But how?!” Flimbo choked in disbelief, backing away quickly from Quint.

Dare ye claim to wish to know my defenses? Come then! I shall show you what they consist of!

This time, Quint could definitely feel the tower begin to tremble, and apparently, so could Flimbo.

“Now, now, my friend. I have just been wondering where you have made off to! To congratulate you on becoming a dungeon master, and defend your domain if you needed the assistance!” The large wizard waved his hands placatingly at the ghost, as fat beads of sweat appeared on his face.

The mousekin in the room felt a sudden wave of aggression at the fat man that had appeared today.

Driven by instinct, and the sudden knowledge that the fat man was no friend of the master, their chitters turned a bit frantic as they began to close in on a menacing circle.

The sparrows, panicked by the sudden change in mood, also flocked to their own master.

Then leave.

The specter said, and a rat burst threateningly into lightning.

“A… haha… Your master sure likes to joke around! I’ll be back when he returns, then.” Flimbo said in a quivering voice to Quint, who was staring bug eyed at everything that was going on, then fled through the door.

His sparrows ran and flapped their wings behind him, leaving tufts of feathers fluttering down.

Everything was silent for a beat, then the specter chuckled as the rodent guardians of the Dungeon burst into cheers.