Theo woke to the cold, black stone of the dungeon under his bare feet. It was comforting in a way he couldn’t explain -- as though the dungeon itself cared for him in some way. Dampness permeated the air, and the musty smell made his nose wrinkle in delight. His body ached in a way that told him he must have fought hard. The large room was unfurnished except for a small bed that was still made from last night and an empty chest.
He paused to check his status screen.
Name: Theodore — of the third floor Class: Monster Race: Dungeon Guardian Height: ~22 rats Weight: ~175 rats Level 3
Everything looked normal.
Water dripped somewhere off in the distance, echoing off the cavernous walls and breaking the near absolute silence that permeated his domain. He couldn’t remember much of last night, but that wasn’t unusual. From what he could remember, he’d spent it killing a multitude of adventurers and he always celebrated after tough battles. The ale he’d taken from their corpses must have been potent indeed.
Torchlight flickered and crackled as he set off down the corridor to survey the damage. There was always a mess after a battle as fierce as last night. The thick wooden door to the treasure room had been kicked in and scorch marks blackened the stone walls. He kicked a broken sword out of the way and peered into the room. Dark green ichor covered the walls, splattered across the floor, and dripped from the ceiling.
Yes, the adventurers had died well last night. He didn’t know what kind of fury had come over him to inflict such magnificent damage on the adventurers, annihilating them so completely that there was nothing left of their bodies, but he had to admit the aftermath was impressive.
His domain was grand, an entire floor of the dungeon filled with twisty, difficult to navigate tunnels, and he defended it with the utmost ferocity. He summoned his trusty dagger and sliced through the air with it as though replaying the scene from last night.
Name: Dagger Till The End
Class: Dagger
Tier: 1 (Soul bound)
Description: A lightly rusted knife whose edge has seen many fights.
He would rain down death upon all who intruded, especially those bothersome adventurers. They were a constant irritation.
He turned left at the next corridor and paused, listening for the sound of approaching footsteps. When he was sure it was all clear, he pushed deeper into the maze, walking silently. There were several locked rooms on the third floor, only one of which contained any treasure. He inspected each one in turn, winding through the labyrinth of corridors. Four of the doors lay in shreds, blasted to pieces with black scorch marks covering the walls and debris. Another two of them had a hole chopped out just large enough to peer into. Splinters littered the floor.
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Death didn’t seem like sufficient punishment compared to all the havoc they wreaked in his domain, but it was the best he could manage. There was only one of him and the steady stream of adventures seemed almost limitless. He wondered what it would be like if he didn’t have to kill adventures and chuckled to himself. The echoes of his mirth carried through the empty corridors. Killing adventurers was his whole life. He was born to protect the third floor and he would defend it until his dying day. As if that could ever happen. He pulled out his dagger again and slashed at his non-existent foe for emphasis. The only thing more glorious than defending the dungeon was--
He paused. He didn’t know what could be more glorious than that, except… A thought percolated in his brain. What if he didn’t have to wait for them to come to him? What if he could stop the adventurers at their source? Thoughts raced through his head. Excitement grew and he found himself sprinting through the tunnels till he got to the entrance to the floor.
The large, imposing door was made of stout oak, banded with steel and set in a heavy metal frame. It was the only way in or out of Theo’s domain and it was riddled with dents and scratches, as though it had been battered by countless waves of adventurers.
It was also locked.
There was no lock that Theo could see and if it had hinges, they were well hidden. There wasn’t even a handle. Yet, Theo had seen adventurers come through it with his own eyes and killed them with his own dagger. If Theo wasn’t around to see the adventurers come through the door, then he hunted them down and dispatched them anyway. He could be very efficient when he wanted to. However, now it was all quiet. He pressed his ear against the door, the wood was cold and rough and no sound passed through it. Theo tugged at the metal bands, trying to force the door open. He pulled a little harder, then a lot harder, pulling until his arms shook with the strain. No luck. The door refused to budge
He walked five paces away from the door, turned and ran headlong at it. Just before hitting the door, he leaned forward and tilted his shoulder down and crashed into it. A resounding thud echoed through the tunnels. He found himself on his back, the cool bricks soothing his throbbing shoulder. His cloth tunic had torn and several wood splinters stuck out of his skin. Too bad he didn’t have a leather pauldron to protect him. He would be sure to take one from the next adventurer he killed.
He plucked the splinters from his shoulder and brushed himself off. This door was indeed a formidable adversary and not to be underestimated. Metal glimmered in the torchlight, scattering reflections across the walls of the third floor as he brandished his dagger in one hand and stabbed the door several times in rapid succession causing wood chips to fly in all directions. He switched hands and continued the process until he was breathing heavily, the pile of splinters growing on the stone floor. Gasping for breath and using both hands now to grip the dagger, he flailed at the again and again, until he finally collapsed; the dagger clattering to the rest beside him, his hands too weak to hold it any longer.
He didn’t know how long he lay there, sleep having overcome him in his state of exhaustion. The rumble of wood grating against stone stirred him to consciousness.
The door. It was open! Theo scrambled to get to his feet, scooping up his dagger and holding it at the ready. He’d done it.
He turned to walk through the exit.
Four adventurers stood on the other side of the door, their faces hard and tense. Blades gleamed in the dim light and reflected the firelight from the room beyond.
“That’s him?” asked a scrawny male adventurer dressed in flowy brown robes.
“Yeah,” answered the brawny adventurer wearing plate mail.
“I thought you said he would be hard to find?” asked a well muscled female with dark skin and daggers in each hand.
“We just got lucky," said the brawny adventurer. “He’s usually hiding somewhere in that maze of tunnels and it takes forever to find him.”
Theo snarled in fury and stepped forward, raising his trusty dagger and preparing to fight. He would kill them all and protect his dungeon. Little did they know they were about to face the greatest peril this floor had to offer.
The well muscled female parried his attack with her daggers, crossing them in front of her and stopping his blade. She was fast, Theo had to give her that. Raven hair bounced as she leapt to the side, dodging Theo’s next attack. Her daggers were larger than his trusty blade and looked well taken care of. He would have to remember to take them from her body after the fight. Right now, he needed to focus on winning. Her blades were a blur of motion as she lunged at him.
She cut him down in a single, brutal flurry of blows, leaving him bleeding and broken on the floor of his dungeon. As he lay there dying, he knew that he had failed. He died in the hallway of his dungeon, blood pooling around his corpse, and a foolish grin on his face.