Dungeons Are Bad Business

Vee managed to assemble another two skeletons before Alforde returned and it was time for him to go up to the office to start running the dungeon for the day. He’d gotten the hang of the process and might have been able to put a few more together, but had instead decided to equip the ones he had instead. He wanted to see if their appearance changed once they were turned into Knights, Archers, or Mages.

In the bottom of the box, there was a bundle of shoddy weapons. They were all made out of cheap materials, and none looked particularly intimidating. The swords for the skeleton knights were little more than thin metal rods with one end clumsily hammered to something resembling an edge, the staffs for the mages were plain old sticks, and the arrows for the archers looked like they should have had plungers on the end. Not particularly terrifying, but they’d do for now. Eventually, though, Vee would have to find a [Smith] to make some proper gear for his minions.

Thankfully, equipping the skeletons was much easier than assembling them had been. He simply took his weapon of choice and handed it to the skeleton he wanted to transform. After they were equipped for about a minute or so, their eyes glowed blue and their bodies changed ever so slightly. Knights got a bit taller and bulkier, while mages shrank, and archers remained the same height but exchanged some torso height for leg length. Vee took out his notebook and sketched some basic ideas for ectoplasm cloaks or armor that he could adorn them with before they started active service in the dungeon. When he could afford it, he’d go to a [Tailor] and order some basic uniforms, but right now every fleur counted. Ectoplasm outfits wouldn’t win any fashion contests or set trends, but they were functional enough.

Vee smiled. There’d been a time, not that long ago, when he would have kicked himself for being willing to accept anything less than the best. Growing up under his parents’ roof, he’d never had any reason to spare any expense. It wasn’t until he made it to the academy that he’d had to start learning how to count his fleurs, and the need to budget had only gotten stronger since.

Interestingly, the skeletons seemed to calm down a bit once they’d been given equipment. The knight paced back and forth as if on patrol, its little sword swishing through the air. The mage sat down and looked like it was meditating, and the archer simply stood in place. With proper floor orders, he could probably make them do whatever he wanted them to do, but if he could leverage their innate behavior, he’d save himself some work. Another thing to think about as he chose which type to prioritize for Crestheart.

But figuring out what blend of skeleton types he wanted and how they’d slot into the dungeon’s rooms was a problem for Future Vee. For now, he had to get back up to the office and manage the day’s runs.

After making sure that none of the little bony jerks followed him through the first ectoplasm door, Vee sealed the room again and headed upstairs.

Reginald was still brooding on the table, but the spirit had set up his magnifying crystals and seemed ready to get to work.

“Who’s up first?” Vee asked.

Reginald passed over a sheet of paper.

“Norog Stonegief. He’s an ogre [Wrestler].”

Vee took the paper with a grunt. Other than Sculla, he hadn’t seen many ogres in Oar’s Crest.

“This might be trouble for Alforde,” he said. “Ogres can be pretty nasty fighters.”

“That’s not the only problem though. Take a look at where’s he’s from.”

Vee looked down at the application. For the first time, the field labeled ‘Licensing Office’ wasn’t filled with the loopy Oar’s Crest signature. Instead, it looked like Norog had come all the way from New Sally, a city to the far east.

Next to it, Vee saw Norog’s level. His stomach sank. The [Wrestler] was level 28. That made him the highest level adventurer Crestheart had ever seen.

“What’s he doing here?” Vee asked. “We’re way too low to be much of a challenge for him.”

Reginald rustled his brim. “Some adventurers just enjoy racking up easy wins, I guess.”

Vee’s heart started pounding in his chest. This was bad. Real bad.

“Any way we can just forfeit the run and pay him the full reward?”

“Sure, if you don’t object to a bunch of other mid-tier adventurers coming to town and cleaning us out once the word gets out. Adventurers love an easy payday.”

The hat continued, ignoring Vee’s expression. “This is what having a dungeon is, boss. There’s an unspoken contract between adventurers and dungeon owners. They come challenge us, and we have to hope that our layouts, minions, traps or [Dungeon Champion] can stop them. That’s the deal. If you’re not willing to adhere to that, you might as well shut this place down and go beg Sacre for mercy on your repayments, because you’ll have no business being a [Dungeon Master].”

Vee clenched his jaw and bristled, but when he looked into the hat’s eyes he saw that Reginald was only speaking the truth. Running a hand through his hair, Vee sat down and grabbed the magnifying crystal that led to the champion’s arena. “You’re right,” he said as he activated it and got ahold of Alforde.

“What is it, Vee?”

“I just wanted to tell you to be extra careful today, buddy. This first adventurer looks to be pretty dangerous, so keep your wits about you, okay?”

“I will. Don’t worry, Vee. I’ll be fine.”

Vee nodded and deactivated the crystal. He slumped back in his chair.

“I sure hope so,” he muttered.

Alforde watched as the doors to his arena opened. He’d already summoned Shadowforde and despite the tone in Vee’s voice as he’d delivered his warning, the armorsoul was feeling pretty good. He was on a winning streak, and fighting the fiends earlier during his pursuit of the skeleton meant that he was already warmed up. Hammy seemed to sing in his gauntlets. They were both ready for battle. Let’s get another win!

The adventurer walked in and Alforde saw that it was an ogre. A big ogre. His gray-gold skin seemed too small for his muscles, and was covered in speckles that made it look like granite. Like most full-grown ogres, his horn was almost a foot long and his fangs were so long that they looked like tusks.

Alforde tilted his helmet back so that he could see into the adventurer’s eyes, and the armorsoul found himself staring into twin pools of black with a tiny red sun in the center.

“You are [Dungeon Champion]?” the ogre asked. There was a rumble of disbelief in his voice, and his accent was thick.

Alforde nodded. “Indeed. What’s your name?”

“Am Norog Stonegief. Are positive that you are [Dungeon Champion]? Look too puny to put up good fight.”

Alforde opened his chest and retrieved the SSB. He tossed it to the adventurer, but the ogre swatted it out of the air and made no move to pick it up once it landed. “Don’t need magic. Won’t get hurt in fight. [Dungeon Champion] too small. You take though. Will need.”

Alforde bristled and put his own pill away. If the adventurer wasn’t going to use an SSB, he wouldn’t either. He didn't need magical protection! After all, look how he'd handled those fiends earlier! They hadn't even scratched him! He was unstoppable!

A tiny voice in the back of his helmet tried to say something, but the [Dungeon Champion] squashed the thought before it could fully form.

Aiming Hammy at the adventurer, Alforde settled into his ready stance. “Let’s see how you’re feeling once we get started. Don't come crying to me when you lose!”

The ogre laughed and started walking forwards. Splaying his fingers, he lifted his arms so that he looked like a toddler who wanted to be picked up.

Alforde decided he didn’t feel like waiting. He ran forward and thrust Hammy into Norog’s stomach. The weapon bounced away without doing any damage.

“Heh, that’s it? Norog expecting more, to be honest.”

Alforde readied another swing, but stopped when he heard a voice inside his helmet. It was the same one that he’d heard near the gate, the one that belonged to the mysterious figure in silver robes.

To be a champion is to know when you’re outmatched. You’re not yet strong enough to defeat this foe. You should surrender.

“I can’t do that,” Alforde grunted as his second blow bounced off Norog’s shoulder. “I did that last time you told me to, but that was different. Winning this fight is my responsibility.”

Two more attacks ended the same way as the first, and when Alforde tried a third – a crushing strike to the head - Norog caught Hammy and yanked the weapon right out of Alforde’s grasp.

Shadowforde lunged forward but his efforts were similarly ineffective against the adventurer and the Reflection was sent flying by a strong shove and vanished.

“Annoying little things,” the ogre said as he started to bend the weapon. “Like flies, your attacks. Don’t like them. Break now.”

With a grunt, Norog took Hammy’s head in one hand and the end of its handle in the other and started bending it. The frostnickel cried as it became bowed, and eventually it could bend no further and broke under the strain.

Norog grinned as he threw the pieces of Alforde’s precious weapon off the stage “Better. Now you fight with own hands.”

Rage unlike anything he’d ever felt before coursing through his body, Alforde threw himself at his enemy and started swinging his gauntlets into the ogre’s body as hard as he could. This was nothing like dealing with the fiends. Instead of the cool, calm, and collected strikes, Alforde was flailing and trying to cause as much pain as possible. He didn’t care where his blows landed. Head? Great. Stomach? Perfect. Arms? Fine.

“I’m going to make you pay for that!”

Norog didn’t fight back, he simply absorbed the punches and then after a little while, started laughing.

“Ta, is as I thought. [Dungeon Champion] is too puny! Time to show what real strength is.”

Alforde’s next haymaker was stopped in mid-air by one of the ogre’s massive hands. The adventurer started squeezing, and Alforde panicked. He’d never felt such pressure. With his free hand he grabbed Norog’s fingers and tried to pry them open, but he might as well have been trying to fold a mountain in half.

Norog squeezed harder and harder until a single crack appeared in the space between Alforde’s palm and index finger. It spread rapidly, becoming a web of fractures that persisted for no longer than a few seconds before Alforde’s entire gauntlet shattered into pieces.

“See? Little metalman, you are too weak to be [Dungeon Champion].”

The armorsoul howled.

Vee was already halfway down the stairs when it happened. He’d left the office as soon as the ogre had taken Alforde’s hammer. He’d seen where things were headed, and he didn’t like it. Damn you Reginald. I knew I should have had him forfeit this one.

When the blistering wave of panic and pain surged through his bond with Alforde, burning tears started rolling down Vee’s cheeks. He redoubled his efforts, leaping down three stairs at a time. It was still too slow. Vee tried to skip six by jumping to the landing below, but he lost his balance and landed hard on the ground. For a moment, he was distracted by his own pain, and when Vee scrambled back up he tasted blood in his mouth from where he’d bitten his lip. It didn’t feel like he’d hurt himself anywhere else, but Vee knew that didn’t mean much. So much adrenaline was rushing through his body just then that he probably wouldn’t have noticed if someone stabbed him.

He shoved the door open and ran to Crestheart’s entrance. One of the adventurers waiting for his own run to start looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Everything okay, [Dungeon Master]? You look pretty upset. Your lip’s bleeding something fierce too.”

Vee didn’t bother answering as he slammed his hands into the dungeon’s front door. “Clear the way!”

Once he was inside, Vee took out his [Ghost Baton] and pointed it at the end of the hallway. “[Walking Walls]!”

The walls groaned, but shifted so that Vee had a straight shot to the stairs leading to the second floor. Commanding every minion to follow him as he passed by, Vee ran for the champion’s arena.

Before he got there, another wave of pain blasted through the bond he shared with Alforde, and it hurt so bad that Vee almost fell to his knees. He couldn’t see it, but he knew that his best friend’s left forearm had just met the same fate as his gauntlet.

The door to the champion’s arena was just ahead, but Vee didn’t think he could open it by himself. Instead, he saw with relief that Do and the rest of the [Dungeon Maintainers] had heard his call and were nearby. He ordered them to open it for him instead. As it did so, Vee activated every single [Ghost Maestro] skill he could think of and started grabbing as much ectoplasm out of the air as he could. Thank Gawain that there was so much of it around.

Red and blue and green and yellow bits of light swirled around the [Dungeon Master]’s body until they turned black and formed orbs around Vee’s hands and face.

[You are now a Ghost Maestro, Level 22!]

[Your Shape Ectoplasm is now more powerful!]

Stepping into the arena, Vee raised his [Ghost Baton] and pointed it at the ogre’s back.

“Stop the fight! By order of the [Dungeon Master]!”

The adventurer turned to look at him, and when he did so Vee could see Alforde behind the ogre’s hulking frame. The armorsoul’s helmet was slumped forward and his eyes were dim. His smoke drifted up into the air and dissipated.

With a grin, Norog shook his head.

“Rules are clear. Fight lasts eight minutes. Time not up yet.”

He started squeezing Alforde’s bicep harder and to Vee’s horror, the [Dungeon Master] realized that he didn’t feel any pain coming through the bond. The sound of cracking metal filled the air.

“I make the rules here and I said stop the fight!”

He [Shaped Ectoplasm] like his life depended on it, turning the energy into bindings and shackles that he directed at the ogre. They clenched and tightened around Norog’s limbs, but the adventurer didn’t seem to notice or care. The cracking metal got louder.

Vee directed his attention to every minion inside Crestheart. “[Would You Kindly] free Alforde from that stupid ogre’s grip! Hurry!”

Dozens of ghosts whizzed down the hall and attacked the adventurer. They wrapped their limbs around the Norog and pulled, but they were too weak, and nothing changed. Do and the rest of the [Dungeon Maintainers] added their strength too, but they also failed to make any real difference other than prompting Norog to knock them away.

Panicking, Vee made more shapes of ectoplasm and slammed them into the ogre’s head and back. Boxes, balls, pyramids, anything he could think of. The air was filled with projectiles, but they all bounced right off Norog’s body.

Vee was out of ideas, so he simply ran forward and started pounding on the ogre’s back with his fists.

“Let. My. Friend. Go! Please! I’m begging you! You’ve already won!”

Vee kept at it, hardening the ectoplasm around his hands as it shattered against the adventurer’s stonelike skin, but he wasn’t delusional enough to think it would make a difference. He just didn’t know what else to do.

To his surprise, Norog eased his grip enough that the sound of Alforde breaking stopped. Vee’s efforts were apparently worth a moment’s reprieve.

“Friend, you say?”

Before Vee could answer, Reginald’s voice filled the room.

“And that’s time! In accordance with dungeon run rules, this match is now over! I repeat, this match is now over! Norog Stonegief is victorious!”

The ogre glared up at the ceiling, but he let Alforde go and stood up. The armorsoul clattered to the ground and lay there, unmoving.

Turning to Vee, the ogre shook his head and walked over to the treasure chest at the far end of the arena. He kicked it open and took out the prize inside. Looking at the chain dangling from his hand, Norog shook his head and spat on the ground before leaving.

“Ta. Should have charged double. Weak dungeon. Not worth time. Friend not worthy [Dungeon Champion].”

Vee hurried to Alforde’s side. His friend’s left arm was a mangled mass of metal.

“Buddy? Are you okay? Alforde?!”

The armorsoul’s eyes flickered and brightened a little bit. He tried to sit up, but toppled to the side when he tried to balance himself with a gauntlet that wasn’t there. “Vee?”

Vee helped his friend up. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“I’m sorry I lost.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Vee said as he looked at the ceiling. “Reginald, can you hear me? Go ahead and cancel the rest of the day’s runs. We’ve got to get Alforde repaired right away.”

[Congratulations, you are now a Dungeon Master, Level 11!]

[Leadership +1]

“Will do, boss.”

Main Character Sheets:

Vee Vales:

Primary Class: Ghost Maestro (Locksmagister University), Level 22 (+1)

Secondary Class: Dungeon Master (Oar’s Crest), Level 11 (+1)

Tertiary Class: Guy-Who-Takes-Things-WAY-Too-Far (Self), Level 3

Might: 8

Wit: 28

Faith: 18

Adventurousness: 6

Ambition: 9

Plotting: 13

Charisma: 5

Devious Mind: 15

Leadership: 12 (+1)

Guts: 6

Intimidating Presence: 6

Citizenship: 6

Alforde Armorsoul:

Primary Class: Hammer Afficionado (Self), Level 17

Secondary Class: Right-hand man (Vee Vales), Level 10

Tertiary Class: Dungeon Champion (Oar’s Crest), Level 10

Additional Class: Clunker (Vee Vales), Level 3

Might: 24 (-6)

Wit: 10

Faith: 22 (-2)

Adventurousness (Bound – Vee Vales): 7

Endurance: 11

Intimidating Presence: 7 (-1)

Heart of a Champion: 2

Citizenship (Bound – Vee Vales): 3

Vigilance: 4

Reginald:

Primary Class: Core Spirit (Unknown), Level ???

Secondary Class: Loudmouth (Self), Level 36

Tertiary Class: Majordomo (Vee Vales), Level 7

Additional Class: Announcer (Vee Vales), Level 3

Might: 1

Wit: 27

Faith: 7 (+1)

Ambition: 24

Greed: 21

Deceptiveness: 32

Manipulat#$%@: &8

F%^*#@: ~

[*#&$#*#&$--#@$--]

Citizenship (Bound – Vee Vales): 2