Tiny Dungeon

POV Krat’Imos

Krat’Imos had just finished blessing a particularly excellent invention by one of his priests when he felt his System resonate with something. Intrigued, he honed in on the source of it to find Valterra’s Core glowing brightly. Confused now, Krat’Imos was about to say something when Valterra beat him to it.

“Krat’Imos? Are you there?”

Beginning to chuckle at the young one’s ingenuity the High Spirit answered him. “Yes, I am here. My System notified me.” He watched as the color of relief flooded the Core.

“Oh good, so that did work. I wasn’t sure it would.”

Krat’Imos let out another chuckle at the gumption of the kid. Not many of even the older Divine Cores would have the balls to just call to him through the System. Then again not many had the capability since doing it required the possession of a Divine Spark. “What do you need, nephew?” He asked, curious as to the reason. The Core had just come out of a rough situation and if he could help he would.

He knew the other High Spirit’s had their schemes for the young Core but Krat’Imos really felt like the kid was truly a relation of his. Especially considering the manner in which he had come into being. Krat’Imos put a halt to those thoughts and checked to make sure he was alone. Although his mind was carefully guarded, one couldn’t be too careful, especially in the realm of the divine.

“I want more Guardians.”

The Core’s request had Krat’Imos coming back to himself and he honed back in on Valterra. He frowned minutely before speaking. “Can’t you just make more? That's what your Schemas are for after all.” Immediately he saw that he hadn’t understood what his nephew was talking about. The Core made a negative sound and spoke quickly.

“No, I mean can I have a System function to make a Guardian.” He emphasized the last word and Krat’Imos understood. His mind quickened beyond the slowness he had used to communicate with the Core and his awareness flooded the land. His priests would know something was up but Krat’Imos cared little.

This was something new. Why had he never thought of this before?! It was the perfect thing for a Dungeon. And why hadn’t the other Divine Dungeons made mention of this? As his awareness spread he witnessed hundreds of Delvers, listened in on thousands of conversations, and watched an equal amount of current Dungeon runs by parties of various races and kinds. He gradually came to understand what his nephew was requesting.

No wonder he hadn’t had a request for it before from another Dungeon. It was strictly Delver terminology to indicate an above-average monster for a particular Floor. Usually, it was a higher rarity that had yet to go deeper. Or perhaps it dwelt in a place with higher Aether density when compared to other places on the Floor. The Delvers had come to call those monsters Guardians as if they were intentional placements when in fact they were just accidents.

The terminology, though, was fascinating and Krat’Imos knew at once where his nephew had gotten such terminology. From his creator. The High Spirit felt and hid the pang of searing loss. So much Potential was sacrificed for the High Council’s game. That the game was necessary only made the hurt lessen but not diminish completely. Closing himself off from that minute pain, the High Spirit slowly withdrew his awareness until he was focused solely on Valterra, whose Core was showing signs that he was fidgeting.

“Sorry about that nephew, I had to gather more information about what you were requesting. I’m sorry to say the System doesn’t have the capability to do what you want.” He watched as the Core seemed to deflate and then chuckled. “That doesn’t mean I can’t do something new and design such a capability.” His words had the desired effect.

“Really?” Valterra asked, lighting up. “You can do that?”

Krat’Imos scoffed, offended slightly. “Can I do it? Who do you think I am, boy? All it will take is some reworking and Potential, nothing I can’t handle.” He knew something was off when Valterra’s Core went still.

“What do you want?” The Core asked and Krat’Imos felt his heart sink. Ahh, they’ve already gotten to him, he thought sadly. He spoke quickly to dissuade any confusion.

“This isn’t a bargain young one. I’m not going to make you do anything.” He saw the disbelief in the Core and cursed Trik’Weri again for his meddling. His tone softened even further. “I will not force a bargain on you lad. You are kin, even if some of my brothers and sisters act otherwise.” He moved on even as he felt other presences begin moving toward their conversation. “Regardless, I will take care of it myself. It will take me a moment and I will want your input but I’m afraid I need to end this conversation here. There are things I must attend to.”

Krat’Imos waited only for Valterra to acknowledge his words before withdrawing. He found Trik’Weri and Ile’Fen looking at him curiously and they were soon joined by Maph’Ira and Tal’Irieth. Each one looked at him expectantly and he had to fight down a surge of irritation at their enthusiasm. They were only behaving normally. If anything, he was the weird one for holding onto his minor grudge. And it was minor in the face of the coming danger.

He shook it off and thought only Trik’Weri and his quick eyes had seen anything amiss before speaking. “It seems our nephew has had a new idea for a System function.” He watched as each of his siblings’ eyes widened in surprise. “I am going to implement it immediately. At least for him.” Now their eyes truly showed shock.

“A System update?!” Tal’Irieth asked incredulously. At Krat’Imos’s nod, Tal’Irieth narrowed his eyes in thought and asked the question that everyone else most likely held back. “What is the update for?”

Krat’Imos just chuckled, making sure to wave down Tal’Irieth’s irritation. “You will all find out when I have implemented it. I’m sure you will enjoy what our young Core will do with his new toy.” He knew his answer didn’t satisfy his brothers and sister but they knew him and his ways. Their fellow High Spirit never told them about a System update until it was out unless he needed a particular sibling to help.

Holding up his hands he made a shooing motion with them. “Now leave me to my work. And Trik.” He shot the god a mock glare. “No. Peeking.” The joke cleared the air and Trik’Weri held a hand over his heart dramatically.

“You wound me, brother,” the High Spirit of Mischief proclaimed. The others chuckled and dispersed. Trik’Weri shot him one last glance before he too left Krat’Imos’s workshop. Krat’Imos watched them all leave before he closed his workshop to them and began to work. This request was a perfect excuse to lay his own plans. Regardless of the danger he would make sure his nephew was protected.