Dungeon Deposed Page 7

  “Ah, her,” Edwin said with a grin on one side of his mouth. “She seemed rather hellbent on getting me to agree.”

  “I appreciate her directness,” Ryker said with a smirk of his own. “So, what do you need me to do? I’m not… I’m not anything. I was trained to blow things up with magic, then had to learn how to be a farmer. That’s the extent of my resume.”

  Edwin snorted at that and threw a thumb at the wagons passing by behind him.

  “I hear that. Especially since I’m leading this clusterfuck. Was in the military for the better part of my life. Joined the guild after I got out. As to what you need to do… depends on how much you want to do.”

  “Nothing. Get approvals from me, but that’s about it, I guess. Hire the people you need to hire to make sure that it remains that way. Oh, and be sure to remind everyone that this is partially funded by the queen. Theft or dishonesty will get a treason sentence,” Ryker said as a reminder and warning.

  One of Edwin’s eyebrows shot up at that. “Good to know. That’ll certainly make it easier to impress upon them the importance of the job.”

  “Great. About the city. The only thing I can think of that we’ll need to get up first is the things an adventurer needs. Entrainment, protection, and a place to store their gains. That’s where I personally think we should focus the efforts first, but I’m open to suggestions,” Ryker said, watching the wagons roll by.

  “Heh. Whores, alcohol, police, and a bank then. That about right?” Edwin said with a chuckle.

  “About. We’ll be a frontier town for a while I imagine. Give it a year though and we’ll get citizens as well. This’ll become a city in no time.”

  “That it will. It’s why I gave myself the position of captain of the guard. Once we get more people signed on, I might promote myself,” Edwin said. “I’ve already gone and hired the right people to get a city off the ground. I’ll be handling all recruitment for security. There was no way I was going to be able to handle this whole thing myself.”

  Ryker nodded at that. It made sense. There really wasn’t any way one person could hire the needed personnel for an entire city.

  “That’s fine. Keep in mind that I own all the land for more or less as far as the eye can see. We’re not selling buildings or land. We’re renting and leasing. The only exception to that is one building for the queen, and the Royal Guard garrison. Everyone else gets charged,” Ryker explained.

  “Right. Seems fair. Adventurers guild will want to have a building as soon as you allow it. How close are you going to allow them to the dungeon entrance?”

  Ryker shrugged. “Don’t care. Dungeon entrance is inside my inn. Which is next door to the Royal Guard garrison.”

  Edwin blinked, then started laughing at that, clapping his hands together. “Oh, that’s great. They’re going to be rather pissy about that for a long time. They normally like to run it according to their own wishes and charge entry.”

  Ryker grinned without a hint of guilt or shame.

  “I know, I was in the guild a while back. I used their own practices to set this up. I’m following normal guild protocol for entry, but all the entry fees go to me. They can complain to the queen if they don’t like it. Which she won’t care about since she’s getting a cut.”

  Edwin guffawed at that and then doubled over in laughter. Hooting and hollering at what he’d just been told without a care for who was watching.

  I think Edwin and I are going to get along just dandy.

  ***

  Practically running back to his office after he met with Edwin, Ryker closed and locked the door.

  He wanted to build that second level to his dungeon. With Edwin on board, if he got the second wing up, that’d start attracting the higher level guild members.

  And maybe give me a shot at dropping Rob like a hot steamy turd in an alley.

  To make sure he really had privacy, Ryker slipped into the hidden alcove. Sitting down on the ground, he closed it behind himself and got comfortable in the dark.

  Focusing on his spells, he connected with the dungeon.

  Someone had died.

  In the room under the basement of his home, Ryker had set up a number of empty beast cores. The entire room was accessible only to Wynne, shielded by magic, and simply impossible to find. There was no concern that it would ever be detected, unless something went terribly wrong.

  Those cores were set up so he could collect memories and skills, even if he wasn’t watching. They’d be filled upon the death of a person, and cycle themselves out of the waiting pool automatically.

  Peeking into the core with his dungeon senses, he found it had been a monk. A martial artist, in fact.

  Their style of fighting was highly regimented, tied into their philosophy, and only taught to those who swore their lives to the temple’s cause.

  Except for me?

  Ryker found that he could see everything taught to this young man. None of the oaths the man made protected that knowledge in death.

  Putting aside that interesting tidbit, Ryker turned his mind to the second wing he wanted to make.

  First and foremost, the overall shape.

  The story Ryker was crafting in his head was a city under siege. Holding on to its last breath with the tenacity only a dying warrior could appreciate.

  On the other side of the siege was going to be the Gnoll army, supported by Kobolds.

  This second wing, as he was calling it, was going to be their siege camp. Their home away from home as it were. The room layout would be more akin to caves that had been changed and modified for the needs of the army. Between the first wing and the second wing was going to be a no man’s land, where Gnolls and Hobgoblins battled during the day. A neverending war where losses were regenerated the next day.

  He doubted any adventurer would enter it, but he put it there more for storytelling purposes than anything.

  Much like the Hob city, both the camp and the no man’s land were going to be living breathing things.

  As this was the second area, and aimed at the middle ground of beginner ability scores of the guild, Ryker amped up the challenge accordingly.

  Every fight was a group fight, with the possibility of accidentally dragging in more. Each and every group was made up differently.

  Ryker wanted it this way. His ideal was that different adventuring parties would be challenged in different ways because of this.

  A group of Gnoll rogues wouldn’t be much of a problem to a party with a solid front line. But to a group of casters with only a single melee companion, it’d be terrifying. Or so he imagined.

  He also modified a few blueprints here and there for Gnolls to be stronger than normal, a little faster, more durable. Mentally he simply called them Lieutenants, since they’d be acting as small group leaders.

  In the heart of the camp, much like the city, he set up a leader.

  The general.

  Ryker took the base blueprint for a Gnoll and ramped it up to the point of being on par with a middle ability level warrior.

  Surrounding the general, Ryker made a group of Lieutenant Gnolls and Kobolds. He outfitted them accordingly, but made sure that the fight was winnable.

  It’d just take a very coordinated and very well thought out group.

  Taking a moment to admire his work on the second area, he found that it was shaping up to be interesting. To him at least. He’d have to see what the adventurers thought when they saw it.

  The whole war camp could be infiltrated, attacked, and taken apart. The group would have to be sure, confident, and careful, but victory was there. Even if the tactic was slaughtering the entire area.

  But that’s dull. That’s what happens in every dungeon.

  Going to the entrance, Ryker put down a young female Gnoll and a Hobgoblin. He dressed them both in simple clothes, and made sure their blueprints were passive. Then he started to muck around with the stored memories in the beast cores. Carefully, mind-numbingly slowly, Ryker lifted sections o
f memories from them and began overlaying them into the patterns.

  He was after words. Sentences. Things that had been said.

  The piece he was adding to their blueprints was a script.

  A script each would read aloud when approached.

  Each offered a quest and a promised reward. The reward he kept simple, and stated up front. He kept away from coinage, but stuck to things that adventurers could use to survive. That’d save them money.

  And of course he made sure to include some simple gear to sell.

  They were here to gain experience. The quest would reward them for what they were already doing.

  For the Hobgoblin, that quest was to slay the Minotaur king, and reinstate the rightful ruler. A bonus for each civilian or citizen spared or saved.

  Simple, yet effective. After this I’ll need to go through and add dialogue to some of those unarmed ones. Asking for other minor quests. Save my brother, help me get out, do you have water, can you spare a bandage, sort of thing.

  Nodding to himself at the thought, he paused.

  Then he added a second quest to the Hobgoblin: To slay the enemy Gnoll general and his aides.

  Moving to the female Gnoll, he inverted the first quest: Destabilize the city by killing everyone you come across, and destroy as much of their fortifications as possible.

  Ryker then put in a second quest for the Gnoll. To track down Hobgoblin scouts and spies and kill them in the war camp.

  All I need to do there is to go back into the camp, and add a whole bunch of spies and scouts that are only triggered if they take this quest. That and modify the blueprints for the Gnolls to not attack if this quest is active.

  That and add a bunch of side quests here, too.

  Pausing, Ryker considered his additions so far.

  It was interesting.

  Very much so. It was something he’d never heard of a dungeon doing.

  Though… what would be the rewards for doing something like this?

  Need to think on that. For now, gold coins might be simple enough.

  Giving his head a shake, Ryker checked how much space his dungeon was using.

  “Eighty percent,” he murmured to himself.

  The magic usage was also in the eightieth percentile. That no man’s land was going to cost him… but it had great potential.

  Eventually, people would try to test themselves there. There were always thrill seekers.

  Even a single death might be enough for this to be worthwhile if it has the right memories or skills.

  Looking across his dungeon, Ryker felt like he was missing something though. Sure, he was building a story, but there was also the utility of the dungeon to consider.

  People used it to train. To test themselves against monsters.

  But with a dungeon, only one group could be there at a time.

  How do I accommodate more? And possibly kill more?

  And with the clarity of a lightning bolt. Ryker knew what he needed to add next.

  Going back to the entry room, Ryker set a human woman’s blueprint down. Having grafted a script onto two monsters already, the third went much more quickly. Her quest was simple. Survive seven solo battles, or three group battles. The reward was healing potions, mana potions, herbs, and a few pieces of gear to sell.

  Behind her, he built an inverted tower. It reached down into the depths.

  On each floor, he built ten rooms for individuals to fight and five rooms for groups to fight in. In each room, he set up a pattern matching the woman at the entry, with a modified summoning spell. Depending on the answer the adventurer or party gave, a different creature would be summoned and battled.

  In this way, he created a place where over sixty adventurers could fight, and die, at the same time.

  Feeling quite proud of his design, Ryker activated both new areas.

  The sound of grinding rock and exploding stone was deafening.

  People screamed.

  Breaking from his control spell, Ryker opened the alcove and stumbled out. Closing it behind him, he entered the inn’s common room.

  “What was that?” he asked, looking around.

  One of the mid-level guild minders wasn’t far off.

  “Not sure. Sounded like the dungeon just exploded though,” the man said.

  Huh…? Oh. Oh! Damn, that was me. I didn’t even think to wait for nightfall.

  A woman darted in from the entrance of the dungeon.

  “It’s changed! The dungeon changed! It has two new areas, and… and there’s people there… they were watching me. I’ve never seen a dungeon grow so fast before,” said the woman.

  “What? Impossible!” the man shouted back at her.

  “Come see for yourself!” claimed the woman.

  “I will then!” said the man.

  Ryker decided to play the part of the curious owner, and fell in behind the man.

  Both the man and the woman stopped in front of the trio of quest givers. The Gnoll, the Hobgoblin, and the human all stared back.

  Slowly, the man approached the Hobgoblin.

  “Greetings, adventurer,” growled the female Hobgoblin.

  The man jumped backwards, a blade appearing in his hands.

  In his haste to get away, he got closer to the Gnoll woman.

  “Ho there, adventurer,” she grumbled.

  Squawking, the man rolled towards his companion, his blade swishing out to block an attack he was expecting.

  None came.

  Both the Gnoll and Hobgoblin woman stared at him unflinchingly.

  “I…” started the man

  The woman strode forward to the Hobgoblin and held up her hand.

  “Hello,” said the adventurer without any emotion.

  “I would ask you for a favor,” said the Hobgoblin. “Our fair city has fallen under the hand of a cruel and terrible tyrant—”

  Ryker smirked and pretended to listen to his own script. All the while wondering how many adventurers would come to his dungeon.

  With this. I should be able to take my revenge.

  And live quite comfortably, too.

  Perfect.

  Chapter 7 - Repercussions -

  Wynne was rather unhappy with him.

  In fact, the word he’d use was livid.

  Enraged?

  Pissed?

  A living embodiment of anger?

  Ryker sighed and rolled his eyes.

  “Okay, yeah, I get it. In the future, dungeon decisions should be discussed. Got it. It’s done though, yeah? I mean, it seems like everyone is super thrilled with it. Nothing’s wrong. If anything, people are happy,” Ryker said, trying not to be as callous as he knew he was.

  “No! That’s not the issue. I mean, it is, but… no!” shouted the dungeon fairy. “You’re not listening. No one… has done anything like this. Dungeons aren’t meant to be… that. They’re supposed to be a place for them to grind up their ability levels, get loot, and practice. They don’t do what you did. They act as a place to train and die. Not a world within a world. And never developing this fast!”

  “But those are boring. Anyone can make those. I mean, seriously. Every dungeon is that way. Go to one, been to them all. And I’m not going to sit here and slow roll this and do it one little bit at a time. We had the mana, so why not?” Ryker said offhandedly. “And once you’ve been there and cleared it, does it change? Not really. Usually they eventually just add more levels, right? Then you go do those and you’re done. Again.”

  Wynne pressed her hands to her face and shouted into them inarticulately for a second before continuing.

  “No! You’re not listening! That’s one of the reasons they do that! They want it to remain low profile. Too much attention isn’t good for a dungeon, and if they find out it’s actually sentient that’s another problem all together,” she said.

  “Well good thing I’m not a dungeon. Those rules and concerns that bind it, don’t bind me. Remember? The core is little more than a paperweight,” Ryker
said, frustrated.

  “What you’ve done is admit to everyone that a dungeon understands,” Wynne said softly, her shoulders hunching.

  “Huh?” Ryker asked eloquently.

  “Your dungeon has creatures that talk. Promise rewards and tasks. This can only be true if the dungeon itself understands speech. If it understands speech and context beyond the simple messages that most people think are done by the Fairy of a dungeon. And you did this in such a way that you gave alternate viewpoints to the same situation with four quests that directly run against each other. That’s demonstrating a fairly high level of intelligence,” Wynne said into her hands. “Everyone is going to want to see the dungeon core that did all this. To study or steal it. Don’t you understand?”

  Ryker shrugged his shoulders. It was starting to feel more like a bad habit he was developing.

  “Okay? So I just stick a fake core into the exit area, put a pit in front of it, wall it off behind a dozen spells, and let people see it from there. It’s not like I can’t work around this. Not a dungeon, remember?” Ryker said pointedly.

  “I… well… yes. I guess that’d work. But… what if they really go after it? They’ll realize it’s a fake,” Wynne said, lifting her face from her hands.

  “I said the exit area. Remember? Rocks fall, everyone dies. I’ll just put up a sign that says lingering longer than ten seconds will invite the rocks to join their party. The End,” Ryker said. “Seriously though, it can’t be that bad. I’ve heard of some dungeons that do a couple unique things and no one ever really questioned it.”

  “That’s because the few that did ended up getting taken over by a wizard or the guild. And once that happened it was over for them. Turned into a house or a mana farm.”

  “Again… not a dungeon! Remember? It’s kinda irrelevant. Worst case scenario, like… absolute worst case, I get the core, stick it in my pack, and we leave. I don’t have to remain here. I chose this location.”

  Wynne sighed and shook her head. She seemed rather distraught.

  “I’ll help however I can as your partner, but please, in the future, run these kinds of things by me? You don’t have to listen, but I’d at least like a say in the matter,” Wynne pleaded.