Tiny Dungeon

Valterra came out of the memory softly and rather than fade away the memories began to blend seamlessly with the other inherited memories he had received so long ago. The memory had answered many of his questions though it had raised more. The land he had seen through his creator’s eyes was a far cry from the one he had claimed. For one the Locations of Power were not there and he suspected they had been planted or created by Calamvor though further memories might answer that question.

The sudden drop to the river below was not there, with the clearing continuing into a full circle. The whole topography was changed from the vision. Valterra decided to explore. He began claiming ground under the house in the direction of the supposed river. After some time he found it, or at least the remnants of it. A riverbed was revealed, long dried out and filled in, running slightly Northeast to Southwest in a downward slope.

As he withdrew from his little claiming spree he settled into his Core, letting his mind wander over the various discoveries he had made. Now proven true, the memories he had been given revealed a host of errors with what the gods had told him. He could infer what Calamvor’s holy mission was as it was clear that his creation or a similar Dungeon had been the gods’ goal. What did that mean for himself? Why would the gods lie?

Valterra scoffed to himself. One of them at least did so as a job. The others he was less sure of. As much as he now doubted them, his uncles and aunts had proven themselves to be caring on multiple occasions. His first creature had a unique path crafted by Ile’Fen. Maph’Ira had helped him name his first real creation. Qual’Dorn had helped him when messing around with his Schema and had joined Ile’Fen in crafting a path for his mice.

Not to mention Krat’Imos who, even now, was updating his System at Valterra’s suggestion. There was another presence he had yet to meet officially but she had gifted him the Schema for the Fomorian Stalkers so he supposed she was nice. None of the others had offered one of their divine servants for his use. No the only real schemers he could see were Tal’Irieth and Trik’Weri. For Trik’Weri it was at least a part of his nature to scheme and cause mischief.

Tal’Irieth was the leader of the council though and Valterra figured that whatever was going on had him as the focal point. Maybe. He had always seemed kind of aloof to Valterra although when he had first ignited a Divine Spark the god had expressed concern. Perhaps he was simply worried about their experiment failing. He had also been the one to directly lie to him when he had first awoken to Sapience and met the gods for the first time.

Valterra sank deeper. Who was he? How much of who he was was painted by the gods? He wanted to play and create. But his name, gifted by the gods, meant that very thing. The Core now knew exactly how powerful it was to name something in the old language and he had been named by the gods to be their playground. While that resonated in Valterra’s soul he didn’t know whether that was a result of the name or the fact that the name resonated with some internal part of his nature as a Dungeon Core.

For the first time, Valterra had to wrestle with the most foundational questions of life. Who am I? What is my purpose? Why was I created? These questions reverberated in his Spark and he had no answers to them as of yet. So, with the resiliency of youth, he pushed the questions away, rising from his introspection like a breaching Great Whale. For now, it didn’t matter but that didn’t mean he would continue as he had been.

If the gods wanted to play their games they could. For a long time, he had been an unconscious pawn in the game but now he was gradually learning the rules. Now, he was going to play with purpose. That meant claiming as many of his own pieces as possible. He had already begun to do that with the Locations of Power. Whatever the gods were planning he would be ready.

It was with this thought in mind that he spread his Awareness outward and into his territory. The Floors teamed with life with the refurbished first three Floors especially busy. It seemed that his creatures had discovered how to climb the levels and already the strongest creatures were making their presence known.

On the First Floor, underneath the deck, there was a steady stream of life and death. To his surprise, it seemed like his lower rarity creatures had continued their former natural lifestyles. They bred and gave birth or laid eggs that were then hatched. He hadn’t bothered to notice, what with the invasion and then the clean-up afterward followed by his new doubts and experiences. He homed in and watched as his Aether subtly influenced these natural life cycles.

The offspring grew quicker and gestation periods were shorter. While he hadn’t noticed it happening it didn’t mean that he was unaware of it at the same time. His Dungeon was his body in many ways and though for the most part it ran itself if he concentrated he could discern its makeup. For one thing, the Schemas in his Core provided Valterra with intimate knowledge of all of his creatures. Therefore he knew what their natural growth rates were and he could then extrapolate their acceleration.

It was fascinating. Not only did his Aether speed up the process, but it also made the resulting offspring healthier and claimed them automatically for his Dungeon. No wonder he hadn’t really noticed. The steady stream of creatures being born was offset by the predatory nature of the Dungeon itself. If his Aether hadn’t accelerated things and made the parents tougher, then most of the lower rarities would have died out. That, and the fact that the higher rarities ended up climbing higher to the Second Floor in search of greater sources of Aether.

Valterra homed in on one particular specimen. It was a Feral Mouse, admittedly one that was larger and more impressive than those he had spawned recently. It was clear that it was a savage creature with scars from plenty of fights. It had just climbed to the Second Floor and was in combat with an Armored Ground Beetle it had stumbled upon soon after. The beetle was a game combatant and it was clear the two had been exchanging blows for a bit before Valterra arrived to watch.

The beetle was heavy but armored while the mouse was fast and savage. The mouse circled and bit trying to get through the armor to no avail. Both of the creatures were of Common Rarity and the beetle’s strategy was clear. Its mandibles were larger since evolving but it was slower than the mouse. It was, however, tougher and it simply had to wait for its opponent to tire before moving in itself. The mouse had other plans.

It darted in, snapping its teeth at the beetle’s face, even as the beetle’s mandibles clicked threateningly close in response. This back and forth kept on for a time until the mouse’s plan came to fruition. It had succeeded in turning the beetle around and prodding it back until only a short distance separated it from the drop-down to the First. From there all it took was a risky shove, receiving a nasty chomp from the beetle’s mandibles in return, to send the beetle off the edge.

The beetle dropped the three feet down, heavy as a stone, and might have survived even that large drop had it not encountered an actual stone at the bottom that cracked its carapace open like an egg, killing it. Valterra watched as the Aether made its way up to the Feral Mouse and looked on in satisfaction as it lit up with the light of evolution. He had wondered if the beast was close from its general size and ability. Now he would get to see what options were in store for a mouse’s more natural progression up the Aetheric evolutionary ladder.

Your “Feral Mouse” is ready to evolve!

Please choose from among the following evolutions:

Mouse Gorger (Uncommon)

No longer merely feral, this mouse has evolved to be larger and more fearsome than a mouse has any right to be. Showing a tendency to fight and devour anything it comes across this beast has passed into the realms of the monstrous. Often found in lower leveled Dungeons as lieutenants of Feral Mouse swarms they use their greater size to seize the choicest morsels for themselves both mundane and Aetheric.

Swarming Nestkin (Uncommon)

Nestkin are voracious and repugnant little vermin, gaining increased intelligence with every successive evolution but never truly achieving Sapience, only survivalistic cunning. The Swarming Nestkin is at the very bottom of the evolutionary totem-pole running in hordes to gain the sustenance they need to evolve further and climb ranks within the nest.

Murid Stonejaw (Uncommon)

A return to ancient savagery, the Murid Stonejaw is one of the roots that all mice and rats evolved from. This Schema has remained alive through intensive use by other Dungeons. With an elemental affinity for earth, this creature enjoys reinforcing its already impressive bite with a casing of earth, giving it its name. A burrower by nature, it makes sure to have a plentiful supply of earth and rock nearby for defensive and offensive uses.

Valterra looked the options up and down and felt glee fill his Core. He had forgotten how much this side of being a Dungeon Core thrilled him. In the wake of the invasion he had made his choices for his creatures with another invasion in mind but fresh from his introspection, he felt it was okay for him to play around a bit. Each choice held tantalizing aspects that drew him toward them.

The Mouse Gorger was a simple upgrade to the former Feral Mouse and would give it more weight to throw around both physically and among its lesser evolutions. Thinking about how it might fit into the rest of his Dungeon brought his new Emergent Lord of the Red Tide. Such a large specimen and a small horde of its lesser kin would make for a solid foundation for the lord to begin growing its numbers.

The Swarming Nestkin Schema was very intriguing. The image Valterra received from the Schema was of a small hunched-over rat man with beady evil eyes. They were almost like his rats and mice but not really, as if they were entirely separate. Valterra scoffed at himself. Well, according to their paths, they were. Properly savage little things that made large nests from which they set forth to find sustenance in hordes.

The Murid Stonejaw was a curiosity for sure but it didn’t have the same draw. The only thing that made it stand out to Valterra was the elemental affinity. He could certainly use it as it would pair well with his moles and provide an area of contestation in his fire floor from which he could see the moles being challenged. He did like his challenges. It would round the Floor out and provide a predator alongside the Embermaw Mink he was sure was close to finishing its Evolution.

If his idea with Krat’Imos bore fruit then the Embermaw would become the Floor’s Guardian and the Murid Stonejaws would be both prey and predator. What evolutions would come from meshing an earth affinity with a fire affinity? The thought practically made Valterra vibrate with excitement.

In the end, though, it was the mention of higher evolutions of the Nestkin that caught his attention and held it. A primitive, savage, society of foot-tall mouse-like people gave him ideas for a floor and one that he could implement soon as long as he had access to the Schema itself. There was no reason in his mind why he couldn’t give the Schema a little push using the Helpdesk and the new stores of Potential his creator, no, his father had left him.

Valterra figured the man was owed that much based on the amount of work he had put into preparing the land for his arrival. He already had mice and rat creatures but he figured some more wouldn’t hurt. Besides, the normal ones were going to evolve anyway so he might as well collect all the different varieties so that he could choose the best of them. That would only be the responsible thing to do. Perhaps some conflict between them would help decide the matter.

He thought Calamvor would have enjoyed the process of evolution as much as he did. Perhaps that was where his enjoyment stemmed from, to begin with. At that moment, as he chose the Swarming Nestkin, Valterra settled the matter in his heart. He didn’t know all of the motivations of those involved in his creation but he was alive, his Spark still thrummed inside of his Core, and regardless of what was coming down the road he, and his creatures, would be ready.