The Butcher of Gadobhra

Centurion Marcus Abraitus waited until the supply wagons were a mile down the road from the village before he motioned for Legionnaire Gustavus to move up to where he was walking a dozen yards in front of the lead wagon. "I owe you an apology, Gustavus. I hadn't thought that any small village could supply this much meat to the Legion."

Gustavus just nodded. "They certainly are taking their contract seriously, sir."

"That they are. It was refreshing to talk to people dedicated to their work. The overseer, William, was quite eager to add the wheat and corn we need to his contract."

Normally, it would have been weeks for such a contract to be negotiated but William had assured him that as a 'Team Leader' and 'Probationary Northern Region Manager' he could negotiate contracts without the need for his Lord's signature. He was obviously hoping to look good in the eyes of his patron, Lord Vernon. While any overseer would do his patron's wishes and carry out his orders, it was a rare one that gladly took on extra work. Most likely hoping for a large bonus on St. Swithins Day.

The amount of bread it took to feed a Century of the Legion was massive. Rowan Keep’s force was only a fourth part of a Century and needed a constant supply of food to the keep's storerooms. Excess was always needed elsewhere. Each of the keep's 25 soldiers would require a bushel of wheat each month. To the 300 bushels of wheat a year was added 200 more to feed couriers, traveling auxiliaries plus keeping up a supply for emergencies. Roughly two crops a year and 10 acres of good land were required to grow that much grain. And that didn't count the dried meat, cheese, and dried fruit that made up the rest of their standard fare. And beer. There would be a revolt if the soldiers couldn't enjoy a tankard of beer after their shifts.

"And they are already expanding their operation. The old barn wasn't even three weeks old and they are putting up a new one already." Gustavus had seen workers hoisting beams he'd need three men to carry.

"I was quite surprised at how they went about it. As it was explained by the artisan running their slaughterhouse, the current barn and smokehouse were too small. Novel idea just to burn them down and cure all the meat and hides at once. I'd heard of pit curing, but not seen it before."

Gustavus agreed, "Novel, but you can't argue with results. He supplied us with a hundred well-cured carcasses that taste mighty fine and will store for a couple of years after we salt them. I'd suggest those go into our storerooms and the dried beef we have be sent down to Northguard instead. Let's keep the good stuff for ourselves. Good for morale."

Marcus nodded, "Agreed, and good thinking. Any other thoughts?"

"Yes, sir. I was surprised at the quality of the hide. The black colored ones are hard as a rock. Good boot leather. But the red hides are supple and smooth - and tougher than the black. I tested them to make sure the heat hadn't ruined the leather - they didn't tear and resisted cutting when I took my dagger to them. Have you seen that type of hide before?"

"Oh, yes. It's highly sought after by officers in the south. Not only is it exceptional quality leather, but it has innate resistance to fire and rot. It's very hard to come by though. Needs to come from animals grazing in a high mana area and then needs to be cured with special ingredients and methods. The Office of Acquisition and Supply would never pay for it. Officers who want armor made from that leather need to pay for it themselves. I suppose since we paid the same amount for these hides as we did the earlier batches, we could keep these for our own needs, and clear out any older leather as surplus to be sent south."

"I'll make sure that happens, sir. I notice your armor requires repairs, might I suggest our crafters make you a new set? Officers are always priority targets in a battle and if we can outfit you in better stuff, the men would be happier and morale would increase."

"Yes, morale is important. Tell the armor crafter to work on my set, but also to replace the armor of any Optio or Decurion, in order of rank and seniority. After that, I think our soldiers need new boots. Two sets each. If we use up our surplus, it will save the Legion the cost of shipping anything south."

"New boots, yes sir."

"The artisan, Ozymandias, I think his name was, wouldn't divulge the method. He just shrugged when I asked and said, 'Enough wood, enough heat.' But I did distinctly smell the odor of dwarven whiskey. That may be one of the components."

Gustavus ventured a comment. "I see that you asked him for a thousand bushels of wheat and another of corn; plus, an equal amount of groats for feeding horses. Should I arrange for more wagons to move the surplus out to other keeps?"

Marcus considered. It was a fair question, and the answer would reveal things beyond the pay grade of a common soldier. "How long have you been with the Emperor's Legion, Gustavus? How does it suit you?"

"Seven years and a bit sir. Just signed up for another seven-year hitch."

That pleased Marcus. This one was young enough that he wouldn't be retiring soon, dedicated enough that he reenlisted, and smart enough that he was already being assigned work beyond a common soldier. "Good to hear. When we get back, upgrade your gear to Optio. I'm promoting you and moving you to my staff."

"Thank you, sir. I think that means you need some work done."

"It certainly does, Optio Gustavus. Duke Carl has asked for the northern border to be reinforced. I'll be staying on at Rowan and calling for the rest of my century. I already have an architect working on plans for the expansion. Your job is to source the local area for workers, stone, lumber, and anything else we need. So, let’s hear your thoughts on that?"

Gustavus just nodded slightly. The reward in the legion for a job well done was generally getting assigned a bigger job. But bigger jobs came with promotions. He'd suspected more bigger jobs were coming.

"Road first, sir. You saw the quality of the road they were building north to their lumbering operations. I'll convince them to put a branch to the quarry they are starting and then expand it the ten miles between Sedgewick and Rowan. Normally you can only move heavily laden wagons about 5 months out of the year. Winters are mild here, but they come with a lot of rain. With a proper road, we can work all year long with no problems resupplying from this area."

"Next we’ll need foundation stones and heavy beams. I'll work with the architect to get storerooms built first. Extra troops can be put in tents, and stone can sit in the rain, but wood and food need proper storage. That's the basics, but we'll need a lot more. What we can't get locally, I'll requisition from the Wolfsburg supply depot. But it might be a wait. They don't move fast down there. The more we can source locally, the better."

"Good. You have a handle on the job. Get started. Give me a short daily report each morning, but otherwise, I'll leave you to your job." Marcus felt a bit of relief from the pressure he normally carried like a yoke on his shoulders. He'd be back and forth between Rowan and Wolfsburg this next month and then stationed here in the North for the next few years. Having someone to start the expansion would go a long way toward making his life easier.

"That is one ugly rat critter." Ozzy was looking at the dead rat-kin in the tavern's basement.

Aleister was looking at the thing's claws and knife. "The claws would have a hard time getting through armor. And the knife is of shoddy workmanship. But very dangerous, especially against a lone human with no armor or weapons. I'm sorry that Suzette was the one attacked, but better than Derek. I doubt he would have survived."

Ozzy scowled; he hadn't thought of it that way. Clearing 10 rats was a joke quest for new players, but for the average person living in the village, this thing was a real threat. So were those big rats in the other room. "I'm hauling these things out and feeding them to the pigs, then we'll go through the whole basement looking for a crack in the wall or some way these things get in."

The pigs weren't picky. The large, half-wild things ate nearly anything and got all the leftovers from the tavern and a lot of the garbage generated in the village. Derek added some grain now and then. Suzette always had the adventurers that completed the quest toss the rats to them. These were just bigger rats as far as he was concerned. He did help out by chopping all three corpses up a bit with his cleaver. As he started dumping the parts into their trough, the pigs came thundering out of the little covered pen where they slept.

Squealing and pushing their snouts into the trough they argued about who got the most. The argument was ended by the last arrival. The sow was four times bigger than the other pigs and probably weighed close to a half-ton. She looked at the rapidly emptying trough and the rat-kin corpse Ozzy was about to cut up. She snorted and started pawing the ground. Ozzy agreed to a quick compromise - the sow got the whole rat-kin thrown to her, and she didn't try to jump the fence. Both sides thought this was a good idea.

Aleister was in the sub-basement looking at the stacked barrels in one corner. "I think there is something behind these barrels." Ozzy got to work tossing them aside.

A set of stairs started about six feet from the wall, leading downward through an arch. Ten feet down a short tunnel was a sturdy rectangular oak door measuring 7'x5'. Ornate but rusty hinges held it in the stone frame. It was bound in iron with a latch but no lock. Above the door was a piece of crystal the color of blood.

"Well, that explains things. You have a dungeon down here Ozzy. Imagine that." Aleister took out a notebook and started sketching the stairs, door, and hinges. "I'm going to take some notes for reference, but this seems to be a common entrance theme. No real clues as to the dungeon’s nature. It could have almost anything inside."

"Oh, just a common dungeon...Aleister, why the fething hell do we have a dungeon in the basement, and how did it get here?"

Aleister shrugged. "We may never know...or there may be a book inside that explains the origin. Dungeons don't always give answers for why they show up. But the most common reason is an excess of magic. It has to go somewhere, and often the world reacts by taking all that magic and creating a dungeon. Other times some fell creature of power takes up residence in the deeps and creates a dungeon around them. They can be sources of great riches and advancement for those who brave them. They are more common in the wildlands where magic is unrestrained and in horrible places like the Desolation of Typhon or the Caverns of Bloth. There are very few in the Empire, currently."

Ozzy slammed his palm against his forehead. "And Suzette said she saw a black river of dark mana pouring down the road, and the Daemon was using it to feed. Guess we know where the rest went. So, what do we do? Block it off?"

"I would not advise that at all." Aleister put away his book and lit his pipe, sitting on one of the barrels. "Dungeons form part of a cycle. The dungeon absorbs excess mana that gets pushed into the world from various places. Dark is the worst. Not only is it powerful, but it's thick and heavy. It's prone to flowing downward and pooling underground until it creates a dungeon or other effect. If you block it off, it will just create another exit."

"But that's not the worst thing. A dungeon that fills completely can do worse things. The first is to burst and expel all the occupants out into the world. Imagine the horror of hundreds of giant rats and rat-kins appearing all at once. Towns are killed this way and the Emperor's Legion must clear the area and send in teams to weaken the dungeon."

"The dungeon can also evolve and get stronger. This is in some ways worse than a burst. After an evolution, it can fill again with mana. And when it bursts even stronger creatures will venture out. This is how we think the powerful dungeons of legend came to be. They formed in out-of-the-way places, evolving over and over until they were ancient and terrible. Their surroundings became full of creatures that had been cast out of the dungeon."

Ozzy pondered that. "OK, how can we tell? Do we have to go in?"

"We should, but a full group would be better. I can tell the state of the dungeon by putting my hand on the crystal on the door." Aleister walked down the stairs and reaching up, put his hand on the crystal after removing his glove. Ozzy stood down the hall. At least he'd come expecting to have to fight rats. He was wearing his apron and heavy gloves over his normal clothes. And in one hand he had his new barbeque tong.

[Ancient Billhook of Entwined Fates

Crafted by Algwyn Aelfbane, a dark dwarven smith, from Deep Iron.

This weapon is of high quality and enchanted to channel spells. Any wizard may use it as a spell focus similar to a staff.

Materials: Deep Iron, True Silver, Blackroot, and Fingerbones of a Wizard

Quality: Ancient (+10% to hit, +10 damage). Applies both to melee attacks and spell attacks.

Base Chance to hit: 40%, base damage 130 points.

You are not yet skilled with this weapon. Practice or kill foes to gain basic the skill.]

Once he'd carried it around for part of the day, he was able to identify it himself. The last line implied he might be able to fight with it, as clumsy a weapon as it looked to be. He'd seen stuff like this before, in pictures of museums. Ornate weapons made for show, and only used by ceremonial guards. It was an awkward weapon, and heavy, but with his strength, he should be able to handle it. Ben had shown him the basic stance to start in and how to thrust or slash with it. Now he needed practice against a real foe.

He'd brought it for poking in rat holes. Maybe this was just a bigger hole?

Aleister said something very colorful and foul as Ozzy got a message about the dungeon.

[You have discovered the Lair of the Under-Rodent 99%]

"It's about to burst. We have to go in and buy some time for other adventurers to arrive." Aleister tossed his robe aside. Underneath he wore light leather clothing that covered all of his skin. He slung a bandolier of potions around one shoulder, pulled down his goggles over his eyes, and pulled out a thick metal wand. "Ready when you are. I have healing and stamina potions of course, but also a nice assortment of explosions and buffs. Plus, I can supply quite a bit of damage with this blasting wand."

"Ok, let me go first. I can probably take a hit better than you." Ozzy went forward and grasped the handle. There was a bit of disorientation, and then he was at the start of a long and very large hallway! The floor was of dark slate, and the walls were made of huge blocks of stone. The hallway was 12' high and the ceiling was arched and at least 16' high at the center. Of more immediate importance, three humanoid rats were standing in front of him. Two more rat-kin were lying on the ground, burned and moaning.

None of them were looking at Ozzy; their attention taken up by something to the side. He used that to his advantage and tried to swing the heavy pole weapon sideways like an ax, using the sharpened edge of the curved bill. The polearm swung in a huge arc, taking the first rat totally by surprise, breaking its back and nearly cutting it in half.

The other two turned, cursing him. "More humans, more! Kill them!" But before they or Ozzy could swing or move, a small red ball trailing sparks hit the ground and exploded. Ozzy stumbled back from the explosion. The two rat-kin lying on the ground were flung and bounced. They wouldn't be getting back up.

Shaking their heads to clear them, the other two rat-kin charged Ozzy. With his huge reach, he tried to chop down at one of them but missed, embedding the weapon between two blocks of stone in the floor. The rat took advantage of the stuck weapon and ran up the haft at him. "HAHA! And now you die, weaponless man-kin." The rat brought its rusty sword down on Ozzy's unprotected head, slamming hard into his skull. It hurt, but not much. Looking at how the rat-kin held the weapon he realized it had used the flat and not the edge of the blade, its unsteady perch on the haft of his axe ruining its aim.

Aleister had appeared near the door of the dungeon and tossed a vial at the other rat’s feet. An explosion of spider-web-like material engulfed it to its knees, immobilizing it. It tried to hack and tear at the webbing but only succeeded in snaring both its arms.

Ozzy let go of the axe with one hand and punched the rat standing on his polearm in the place where a human male was most vulnerable. It seemed to work for rat-kin warriors as well. The rat-kin fell off the weapon haft and curled into a ball, moaning in pain. Ozzy pulled his weapon out of the crack in the stone and brought it down on the creature, putting it out of its misery.

Ozzy turned as he heard a noise behind him. He saw a humanoid creature about 10' up the wall and wedged into a crevice in the rock. It quickly jumped down to the floor. Ozzy noticed the similarities to Aleister's outfit: worn leather covering the entire body, goggles, and leather helmet. This person also sported a cloth mask worn over the lower face.

[Zephyr invites you to join her party. This means you will share all experience points and treasure, including this battle.Y/N?]

"Hi, Daddy! Aren't you proud? I killed two of them before you got here!" She pulled down her face mask and smiled hopefully at him.

Aleister was paralyzed for a moment before raising his voice. "Proud? Of you sneaking off to a dungeon and killing rat-kin on your own? What will your mother say when I send you home?"

Zephyr considered the question carefully. She'd made a full-time study of how to handle her parents, and Dad was easier than Mome. "First she'll be happy I'm OK, that will last for one hug. Then upset I took a risk. Then she'll blame you for not keeping a better eye on me and encouraging me to go adventuring when I got older. After that she'll say 'And what was your father thinking? Going into a dungeon without me?"

Aleister hadn't expected that answer. "Uh...yes, that does sound like what she would say."

"So maybe we shouldn't mention me going in on my own, and I'll tag along behind you and Ozzy to carefully get some experience under your wise tutelage?"

Ozzy crossed his arms, staying out of this conversation. Luckily, others had opinions to add: "HA! Should be proud of whelpling! Sneaky is good. Asking of permissions silly! Still, you should slap her silly, bad girl for dropping bombs on the poor welcoming committee sent to honor the first humans in our dungeon."

Aleister sputtered at the captured rat-kin. "I won't slap my daughter for that."

The rat pondered the statement "Oooh, scared to get close. The young move quickly and can be vicious at that age. As one of your oldest friends, I offer to help. Big one can hold her and I slap while you watch! Is good plan you make!"

Zephyr looked at her father. "See, Daddy, they are horrible! The dungeon was ready to burst. I had to come inside and start relieving the pressure. I saw that crevice and climbed up where I could ambush them with bombs. "

Aleister pointed to the doorway. "You are going out of this dungeon, right now. You didn't even ask me first? What have I said about this?"

Zephyr crossed her arms and turned her back on him. "Depends. You tell me to always ask first. But when you get caught, you always tell Mom that it's better to beg forgiveness than ask permission."

The rat thought this over. "The whelpling is wise! Is always better. And this rat is so sorry for this little misunderstanding. I begs all the forgiveness. You let me go now, we all go home, tell funny stories, and be friends forever."

Zephyr nodded her head. "See, Daddy? Even the stinking little rat that said he'd kill me and eat my toes thinks I did well. That's two votes to one."

Ozzy was quick to hold up his hands. "Sorry, Aleister, staying neutral here."

The rat suddenly managed to free his arm holding his sword and went to throw it at Aleister. "Ha, fool you!" Zephyr brought her staff down on the creature’s arm, breaking it and making it drop the sword. "Ah, so sorry. Hit not again...will let you kill bad Daddy, yes?"

Zephyr's next hit was to his head and he slumped forward dead.

Aleister said, "Well, I wanted to try to interrogate him, but based on what little conversation we had there, I’m guessing he wasn't worth the time. Fine, fine, at least I get to go with you on your first adventure."

[You have joined Zephyr's party.

Aleister has joined Zephyr's party.

You have killed 5 Rat-kin warriors, level 2.

You have earned 25 experience towards learning the tertiary weapon skill: Billhook.

The party has gained 10 copper.]

Aleister replaced a couple of potions in his bandolier from a pouch on his hip. Then he shrugged and smiled at Zephyr in a way that made her very nervous. He was using 'That Smile'. The one only Dad's have and they bring out to torture their teenage daughters.

"Very well, Party Leader Zephyr. You're in an unexplored dungeon with a group consisting of a Butcher and two Battle Alchemists. You need to kill dungeon creatures to lower the mana level and prevent the dungeon from bursting. What are your orders?"

Zephyr hated that smile.