* * * GARDENS OF PARADISE * * *
Sin Tchai delayed his return, quite deliberately. He travelled slowly and made sure to detour to take in the sights. He followed his seeker-compass, curious as to the double reading, and he was nearly caught by the recalcitrant goddess. He fled to avoid discovery by the twin goddess.
Finally, when he could delay no longer, he returned to the Gardens of Paradise. He hovered around the place until his nemesis, the self-important pompous ass Orinaar Trin’arbour was in charge of the reception hall.
Sin Tchai, carefully did his best to try and sneak past Orinaar in such a way as to be caught by him. And sure enough...
“Sin Tchai, you miserable little worm. When will you learn that you can’t sneak past me!” snarled Orinaar Trin’arbour. “What do you have there?”
Sin Tchai cringed theatrically and tried ineffectually to hide his messenger bag. Orinaar looked at the snivelling messenger suspiciously. “Guards. Seize that miscreant and fetch his bag here!”
Sin Tchai winced as two guards grabbed hold of him roughly. He watched with considerable nervousness as another took his bag with its two messages and handed it to Orinaar. He watched, while dangling between the two guards as Orinaar opened the bag and checked its contents.
Orinaar smiled triumphantly. He looked at the two messages, then he glared at Sin Tchai. “So you wanted the glory of delivering an important message to our lord.”
“No Orinaar. Honest. No I didn’t,” babbled Sin Tchai, even as he looked round frantically.
“Ha! Throw him in the cells for the night. And don’t feed him.”
The last thing Sin Tchai saw as he was dragged away was Orinaar handing the thicker of the envelopes to his toady, even as he headed for the inner doors with the other. Sin Tchai was still grinning as the guards propelled him into the bare cell with a forceful kick to the posterior.
* * *
Orinaar Trin’arbour hurried to place the missive from the barbarian goddess in the hands of his friend, the third undersecretary. That individual smiled insincerely as he accepted it with several meaningless phrases of gratitude.
As always after such interactions Orinaar nursed doubts as to the sincerity of his friend’s gratitude and his usefulness in regards to his own advancement. He was just preparing to return to his post when a shriek of rage sounded from Meek’aym’ooz’s chamber and the broken body of the third undersecretary came flying through the closed door of Meek’aym’ooz’s audience chamber.
Orinaar decided to make himself scarce before his friend recovered – if he ever did, and was hurrying to the door when he was halted by a bellow from one of the lord’s guards. He stopped reluctantly, and turned to see the black horned fellow glaring at him through the large hole in the door. “Come!”
Very reluctantly Orinaar headed towards the guard who stepped back with a gesture for him to enter. ‘This is all Sin Tchai’s fault for being so clumsy... I’ll get him. Just wait and see...’ thought Orinaar as he ducked to step through the hole in the door.
He found Meek’aym’ooz striding from side to side, his moustache of tails all a bristle and lashing about. Meek’aym’ooz stopped and glared at him. “You! Whomever you are, you will lead a pair of my guards and fetch this... this... goddess before me. I will have her here post haste. Now go. Find her! fetch her here. Now!”
“But your lordship. I have no idea how to find...”
“Take a guide. If you fail... well you will regret it. Understand?”
“Y-yes m-my l-l-lord,” stuttered Orinaar in a near panic.
* * *
When the two guards came for him, Sin Tchai was worried. It had only been a few hours. ‘What is going on?’ he worried. ‘Have they figured out what I did? What is going to happen to me now?’
He licked his lips with worry when he saw the two towering black horned, flame-eyed mutant rat-ogre guards that Meek’aym’ooz favoured.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Sin Tchai you will lead us to the goddess our great lord wishes to see.”
The shrill, somehow tremulous voice of Orinaar Trin’arbour jerked his fascinated attention from the rat-ogres. Orinaar was obviously terrified. Sin Tchai’s eyes darted around and he noted the lack of any secretary or undersecretary. He was able to guess what happened to the poor bastard when Meek’aym’ooz had read the Mother of Monster’s insulting if frank answer.
He licked dry lips again as he gave a jerky nod. “Certainly... Now?”
The bigger of the two rat-ogres showed a plenitude of sharp teeth in a pleased grin. “Now,” he agreed.
Sin Tchai bowed to the monster and turned to scurry towards to the main exit to the Gardens of Paradise. Even has he spun frantic plots in his mind Sin Tchai heard the monsters’ pleased rumble.
“See Orinaar-yōgisha, that is how one is supposed to respond to our lord’s commands.”
* * * EARTH – BLACKROCK * * *
Colonel Elijah Anderson examined the basement room. It had been set up for sergeant Harmond but it would do equally well for private Doolin. He had studied everything he could get his hands on regarding dungeons and had been worried regarding the need for a companion.
Luckily they found a volunteer. One of ours, a victim of an IED in Afghanistan, now a paraplegic. For some reason the man was willing to become a dungeon pixie. Thankfully pixies came in both sexes or he doubted they’d have been able to convince the man. It had taken some doing to get him integrated, and it had gained their volunteer a promotion.
Anderson inspected the banks of instruments facing the solid pedestal that would initially serve as a chair for private Doolin. He checked with the assembled scientists that everything was ready, then with the guards.
“You ready sergeant Lee?” asked Anderson of the thirty-two centimetre tall winged dungeon pixie who was dressed in a slightly modified uniform.
“Yes sir!” barked sergeant Jimmy Lee.
* * *
Fin was holding onto his humanity by the skin of his teeth. He had been flown into Area 51 but due to his state he had not been able to take anything in.
If it was not for his escorts, he would have been lost long ago. As he was hurried into a remote bunker, he vaguely noted that it looked fresh and new. Now that it was far too late he was starting to have second thoughts. He wondered if he would ever see his son again. His ex-wife he didn’t really care about. Their relationship had soured in the last year.
Then he was being ushered out of a lift and down a flight of stairs into a room filled with bright lights and people. Everyone seemed to be jabbering at him. He stood there and swayed, understanding nothing.
Then he was pushed into the middle of all the things and persuaded to sit on a pedestal, or maybe it was a chair. He vaguely heard someone say “Go ahead private, you can change now.”
* * *
Colonel Anderson examined private Doolin as he was escorted into what would become his core room. The man was swaying and his eyes were unfocused. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought he was drugged to the eyeballs.
It quickly became obvious that Doolin was unable to understand anything that was said to him.
“Place private Doolin in place,” ordered Anderson.
As soon as the man was perched, somewhat unsteadily on the pedestal, the scientists focused their instruments on him. There was a short pause.
“Go ahead private, you can change now,” Anderson told him.
There was another short pause before Doolin seemed to be covered by a shimmering dark shroud of light. Slowly it fell in on itself and shrank. Finally all that was left was a small multifaceted dark opal globe, a small gem.
After about a minute the gem began to flicker with spots of light, they flickered here and there for a while before bands of glowing fire flowed across the surface and the people nearest the gem felt their hair try to stand on end.
And then near the core there were two black rocks. Only the rocks spread their legs and stood. They were spiders, covered in short bristly black hair, and with their legs spread they were easily sixty centimetres across.
One of the scientists squealed and fled screaming in horror at the sight of the spiders.
* * *
Fin could think again. He could sense everything around him. Somehow he could see without having eyes. He could sense a link that connected him to a younger version of himself. And he knew he was Blackrock. And he had a small but well defended dungeon on Ambuila, a planet with a very long year, orbiting a blue tinted star.
« your current Monster Type is Arachnids. If you wish to sever your link to yourself you may change this. Otherwise be aware that you will be restricted by this choice until you accumulate sufficient mana and experience to gain further advances. »
« Um, spiders? Spiders is good. »
« Then – Done! »
Fin flexed and claimed as much as the room as he could, being stopped by the presence of higher-level individuals than himself. Then he summoned two mobs or guardians. The spiders were cute – or at least Fin thought so. He knew that they could jump close to ten meters and their venom was deadly.
Fin watched the arachnophobe flee with amusement. Then he eyed the remaining scientists and army personnel in his room with suspicion. He should have listened to the other dungeons, but they had struck him as so – so – ruthless. Especially Winter Wolf and Blue Lagoon. ‘At least I didn’t say much thanks to how out of it I was feeling. But I still think they must be wrong about things. I am a patriot and I will help the US. But I am also a dungeon, Um...’
It was then that Blackrock noticed the uniformed Dungeon Pixie. Sergeant Lee flew up to the core and landed on the pedestal, next to the core.
“Do you need a companion private? Will I do?”
Fin examined the Pixie, he thought that it was a necessity and he was at a loss of how else he could find one here in Area 51. So despite a degree of cautious reluctance he accepted.