Oh great, they will fit right in… Egbert went ahead and spent five of his scant remaining silver for a box of ethereal popcorn. If he had to watch a bunch of probably child soldiers terrorize his denizens, he at least needed the buttery, crunchy, emotional crutch his faux popcorn kind of offered him.
Oh yayyy, the worst orphan already made a friend. I think I hate it here now.
Lily was staring down Boo from the darkness of her hood. Boo stared back with light pulsing along her eyes; whisps of black and purple mana seeped from both of them as they had a very concerningly long wordless exchange. Finally, Boo scooted over like a damned hound, sticking her front arms out like she wanted uppies. “Not now, Boo, I need to tell the others what you shared.” Lily chided, giving the eldritch spider a fond forelimb scritch. She turned towards where her companions seemed to be having the time of their lives bathed in the planty blood of their enemies.
Well...huh... They could at least act like myconid lawnmowers...that's an upside; I could add it to their chore list.
Orlock was knee-deep literally in a small, ever-growing pile of myconids. He had a deranged smile on his face and had abandoned his great sword in favor of just fighting the poor little bastards with his bulk. Egbert watched as he snatched one deceptively fast from the pile it was clambering up, careful to avoid its acidic dribbling.
Then the big bastard used it to club its siblings; it wasn’t even very effective, doing damage to them—it just seemed like he was having fun. Resh was covering him, throwing dagger after dagger into ones that tried to climb up the pile around the back of Orlock's legs. It took a bit for Egbert to realize the daggers were returning to the bandolier with the use of a subtle skill and a hand gesture.
That tracks; no wonder Frank's having such a bad time—three full combat classes with a bad attitude attached.
Frank was uselessly shouting rules and regulations at them and said that if they kept this up, there was no way Mr. Greed would let them stay. Ect ect. Greed decided to interrupt his ranting; thankfully, Frank had kindly taken the stone with him. “Hey, you two stab-happy not-so-little problems, consider the myconid culling on your chore list.” Frank looked so offended that appalled didn’t even begin to cover it. Resh made a "hmm" face, then nodded before throwing another dagger.
Orlock fully turned mid-fight, locking eyes uncomfortably with the pet rock. “I think I love it here…” before whipping a myconid back at its brethren so hard its top half flew from his hand without the legs he was holding.
“ON TO THE NEXT ROOM!” Frank screamed with shocking authority; obviously so far over everything that was happening, he was close to snapping.
Everyone started shuffling along towards the tavern floor more out of sheer surprise and curiosity of where they would be living; there were only a few myconids left anyway between the drug war that happened earlier and now this. Lily brought Boo along like her damn pet on the way down to the next floor; it was really, really unsettling.
Max looked up from his work, covered in sweat and several kinds of varnish, towards the approaching group. He looked more than a little bit deranged, standing on a half-constructed floor, hammer in one hand, a few feet from a whirlpool, and with a squint that said, ‘Who the hell are you people?’
Frank waved cautiously. “Hail there! Are you an employee of this …facility?”
Max frowned. “If you mean am I in cahoots with the grifting ass dungeon, then yeah, I’m the tavern keeper!” Ahh yes, thanks, Max. Kinder, more helpful words have never been spoken about me…
Frank looked at the ‘Tavern.’ “Ahh, alright then, don’t mind us; we’re just checking the children’s housing to make sure that it’s up to code.”
They walked up to the shacks, and Frank's face finally showed pleasant surprise as he peered into the first one. “Huh. no immediate dangers, solidly constructed. A bed, shelves, and such. Each even has their own private accommodation, surprisingly well done greed” he begrudgingly admitted.
The kids started wandering around them as well. “Oh fucking hell yes! I agree, Frank, the dungeon is my new jailor till I'm free from your bureaucratic oppression,” Resh said definitively as he finally saw his custom-painted room.
“Glad you like it. I was going to do one for each of you, but well, you were the only one I caught a glimpse of when you were robbing me. First ground rule, kid!” Resh looked defiantly towards the rock. “Don’t steal from ME.”
Resh looked cautiously thoughtful for a moment. “You really stressed the ME part of that statement...Mr. Greed-based Dungeon...” Resh trailed off leadingly.
“Yes, yes, I did,” Greed answered with a bit of humor in his tone.
“No one is stealing from anyone!” Frank interacted passionately. Everyone looked at him in almost pity at his naivety. “Now I know you have accommodations for four, but one of our candidates couldn’t make it today!”
“Escaped the jailors in a glorious ballad of blood and ice,” Lily said ominously.
“It was really badass,” Resh added.
“I still think I could take Gravis.” Orlock mumbled.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“No, you can’t,” Lily and Resh said at the same time.
“Anyway! The three that are here have final approval on their accommodations, so kids! What do you think? Remember, it’s this or jail!”
Lily waved her friends over, and they clustered into a little huddle, discussing things amongst themselves. Egbert used his slightly omnipotent nature to eavesdrop like a motherfucker.
Lily started “So the spider filled me in.” Oh hell, I forgot about that already. Egbert stared accusatorily at Boo, who was busy starting to weave a ‘web’ in one of the shacks. “The dungeon is kind of batshit, but less in the murder-people way and more of a ‘it would sell you your own kidneys if it could.’”
Resh nodded. “Yeah, that’s the vibe I’ve been getting. It’s not...evil...certainly not good, but more that solid grey area we are more comfortable in.”
“Bruh, its only chore so far has been to go murder the mushroom people and gain levels. I’m already staying; I can’t even imagine how good living in a fucking dungeon would be for my class growth.” Orlock said, obviously itching already to go find something else to fight.
“So…there’s another thing Boo, the spider, told me apparently there are two competing monsters fighting to ascend to divinity. Or at least to a kingdom-tier monster, and it seems like the dungeon denizen and delvers have been picking sides.” Pardon? I don’t think it’s gone...quite that far…
Resh shrugged. “Does that even matter if we are only actually stuck here for a couple of years?”
“Not particularly, but it’s important to be aware of…also be careful of things offering pacts. And there’s a fair chance if we pick a side, we will end up fighting adventurers. Either way, I’m staying.” She finished with a smile. Resh nodded back in agreement and turned towards the nervously waiting Frank.
Frank looked like he was waiting for them to decide this was the best place to off him and try and just escape the kingdom. Honestly, if you had brought them to a convent or something, that might be exactly what these little psychos would have done.
“Yeah, Frank. The unmanageable monsters are all in agreement in staying in the fucking dungeon vs., you know…an actual dungeon. And that’s right, I heard what you bureaucratic assholes called us when you’re in the breakroom!”
Frank turned a few shades redder and huffed before pulling out a bundle of paperwork and presenting it to the pet rock.“Alright, Mr. Greed, just sign these, and you will be the official caregiver of these…poor…wayward? souls.” There was an awkward moment where Frank held the papers out, waiting.
“Sighh…with what hands, Frank…” Egbert said blithely, eliciting snickers from the kids.
“Ahh well, errghhmm, I can sign for you; we just need a witness! Tavern keep!” He shouted towards Max.
“Goddammit, I’m busy, you pencil pusher. WHAT!” Max shouted back, looking very overwhelmed as he was trying to assemble some supposedly easily buildable furniture from the mazelike store in town. The place also sold weirdly good meatballs once you escaped the furniture labyrinth.
Frank handed the papers to Max after he extricated himself from a literal pile of screws and unnecessarily fragmented joints. ” In the case of physical disabilities, I am allowed to have a representative sign your name. Rude. Max stared blankly at the papers, then at Egbert, then at the heavily armed children.
Max sighed deeply, snatching the papers and quickly signing greed across a half dozen pages before flinging them back at Frank and stomping back to his construction site. The whole time mumbling to himself about mortgage payment and repossession. Hmm, I need to ask him how utterly underwater in debt he actually is.
“The grounds keeper is kind of scary…” Resh whispered to Orlock.
Frank tossed the haunted-ass pet rock to the kids gleefully. “It’s done. Congratulations on your new home, kids! Bye!” Frank didn’t say another damn thing, simply jogging the hell all the way out of the dungeon with a carefree smile across his face like the weight of the world was just lifted from his overburdened clerical shoulders. That felt an awful lot like he just finally passed on a curse that has been plaguing his family for generations.
The kids all looked at the rock before Orlock finally spoke up. “So, uhh, what now?”
“I dunno, go commit crimes, don’t cause me any problems, and don’t die, or I lose tax exemption.” The kids looked at the rock in a mix of amusement and disbelief.
“Egghhhrrmm, I mean, get settled in, and what kind of murals do you little angels want on your custom cottages?” Egbert snarked to the disbelieving amused snorts of the kids.
“Fire and ash!” Lily said in excitement.
“Black fire?” Egbert checked just to be sure.
“Well, duh.”
Figured…
“The legend of Orlock! Greatest warrior in the land!”
“Generic dramatic battlefield bullshit it is, got it.”
Orlock shrugged and headed straight back to the village to go finish off the myconids.
“Don’t die!” Egbert shouted before zooming off to do some more finishing touches on the rougher edges in his latest changes. “And put the evil rock back!”
Gravis Flenser—Edens Vale Great Forest Outskirts.
He peered through the thick boughs of a tree down at the obvious brigand trap in the middle of the road, grip tightening on the rusted longsword he had pulled from a grave near the edge of town. He was hoping for a clean break after having to wield souls like that during his escape. It took a lot out of him, but it seemed the universe had other plans for him.
He would have just spent the brief time he had to in the care of the state if the damned nobility hadn’t finally caught on to the fact he had gotten a legendary class. It didn’t really fit his rather cheerful disposition, but if you got offered a legendary class, you took the damned legendary class no matter how grim it might be.
Below him a bedraggled-looking dwarf with half-broken artificers’ goggles hanging from his face was grappling with some rat bastard in a skull bandana. The robber was trying to stab him with a dagger, but so far the dwarf was leveraging his squat center of gravity to hold him at an awkward angle with one hand and rock the everloving shit out of him with some kind of magical brass knuckles. Each of his blows hit with the force of a log trap and flattened the nearby grass.
If that was it, Gravis would have kept going, but the other ten brigands were engaged in battle with something small and inexplicable. A golden form catapulted heavily from body to body, hitting them like a cannonball, sending three men sprawling before latching onto another and headbutting him with its tiny golden-hued face. Mana flared, and the ground compressed downward in beat with the headbutt as gravity got told what to do briefly. The stricken brigand fell to the ground screaming with uncountable shattered bones.
Well, I guess I need to at least help; I'm too curious about what that thing is not to. Gravis let his view fade to the beyond, looking to the memories of the world. Everything took on a ghostly blue and white hue. Shapes and images flickered in and out of this realm. Finally he saw it, the yet departed soul of an owl. “Be free…and gaze back fondly upon me…” His hand extended like a claw towards the specter.
It unraveled in a dazzling starlike display as it was sent to its final rest, and in that moment that the veil to another realm was open, he drew from the beyond just a touch of its power. His breath turned to a frosty, dangerous mist, and hoarfrost crept from his hands down his sword as he prepared to join the melee.
