Tiny Dungeon

After his encounter with the Fae creature Ne’Am Skota, who he suspected was much more than his form had given him reason to believe, Valterra had moved his Awareness over to where Geckodo remained watching over the slumbering Rakali. To be fair, his Awareness didn’t actually penetrate the haze that surrounded the Location of Power but he could home in on Geckodo’s presence. The Risen’s crimson eyes, visible even through the haze, snapped up to where his Awareness hovered and bowed his head.

“You have done well Geckodo,” Valterra said, letting his pleasure at the creature’s success wash over their bond. It was an interesting bond. He wasn’t Named like his other guardians but the connection was almost stronger despite that. It was a fascinating sensation and one he would have to explore in further detail along with the bond he held to the species in general. He could feel them moving and working somewhere on the outskirts of his Dungeon. They were within the dome yet they hadn’t yet entered the First Floor. He decided to ask about it.

“Why do your people not enter the Dungeon?” His curiosity seemed to surprise the wolfish sapient as Geckodo took a moment before answering.

“I let them know through the godsblood that there was a penance to be made for my transgressions against you and by our people in general. They do not enter until they are sure of my success in allaying your wrath.” The relatively large Risen shrugged in an understanding way. “You must understand my lord that we suffered terribly under our former master. His land was a land of immense cruelty where strength was everything and kindness was foreign.”

“Your lands are different and yet similarities remain. Dungeons are no strangers to savagery. My people can feel the difference but the similarities are what keep them cautious. I pray that you will not hold it against them.”

Valterra meditated on the Risen’s words. He could see why his Floors might engender such a response in a people cultivated towards violent cruelty. The difference was that his Dungeon cultivated violence for the sake of growth and the natural selection of the strongest. It was simply that Aether accelerated that natural process to the point of seeming cruelty, hordes of creatures being born and dying simply for the chance of climbing higher, delving deeper, and evolving further.

“I understand. Thank you for showing me this. I will think of ways to further integrate your people once your penance has been completed.”

Geckodo bowed his head in solemn reverence and gratitude. “I thank you my lord for this kindness.”

“You are welcome. Now, the rats have completed their goal of preparing the garden to be claimed. The process of claiming that location gave a hint as to how this location might be. There will be a crystalline heart of some kind most likely hidden underwater considering the nature of the location. Expect a guardian of some kind though I foresee that the Rakali were the real prize.” He watched as the Risen nodded in understanding before continuing.

“Then I look forward to hearing from you once you have succeeded.” So saying he withdrew his Awareness from the general area and moved it to a space overlooking the house and the grounds. The garden now stood out in his sight like a beacon and he felt a surge of pleasure rush through him at the sight. The rats had done well indeed. He let himself sink into the Dungeon Sight for a time, inundating himself with the desperate struggles of his creatures, their simple desires and motivations that were so different from sapient worries, hopes, and dreams.

It was in this state, and perhaps a few days later he couldn’t really tell, that he caught the first stirrings of his higher rarity creatures from their slumbers. He “woke” from his Dungeon Sight feeling as though he had a better appreciation for the current state of his Dungeon. There were a couple issues that had been put to the side for later that he knew needed to be addressed soon. He would wait until The Pond was claimed and then he would act.

Now, though, Valterra had new evolutions to greet and the first was waking in the citadel of mice on his Fifth Floor. Vibrant periwinkle eyes flickered open before the Other-Mage yawned and rose, stretching out before fully rising. Standing on its hindlegs like the soldiers and guards, the mage’s mind was entirely different. It was a racing and powerful thing and Valterra watched as its eyes tracked the currents and eddies of Aether, getting a feel for how it moved.

The other two mages were quick in awaking and rising alongside the first, the three looked at each other with a fierce intellect, calculating and knowing. Valterra, remembering the rats and their use of Crystalized Aether decided to gift these mice something to commemorate their awakening and evolution. He formed three small staves out of wood before setting a small shard of crystal into the top of each and wrapping the wood around them halfway. He set ten points of Potential into each one, just enough to make them artifacts but of the lowest kind.

As the mice looked at their new tools with amazement and awe mixed with instinctive understanding, Valterra made a mental note to create a more impressive version for his rat Guardian. If any of his creatures deserved a fitting tool it would be him. Regardless these mages could use their tools to learn more about their new gifts and he looked forward to seeing how they went about it. Then the Dungeon Core was off again as stirrings of another creature caught his attention.

As he left he dismissed the notification of his ability to produce more mage mice. If he needed them he would make more but his mind was already running over the Schema to see just how much they had changed and if he might be able to create another kind of mage by using the Helpdesk. He had seen the power of magic multiple times now and his father had been, by all accounts, a powerful Archmage. If he could tap into that legacy then he would.

His next stop was in the hidden place in between the outer and inner walls of the house where his Emergent Lord of the Red Tide was coming awake. As the light of evolution faded Valterra found that it was large for an insect though not as gargantuan as his Belchers or Stalkers. It was roughly a foot long with powerful legs, sharp wicked mandibles, and barbed raptorial forelimbs. Its carapace was no longer green but a multihued red that flickered with the energy of the same vibrant color. It was large and powerful and completely bereft of a Floor.

This was a true problem for he didn’t have any Floor to offer to the Emergent Lord and the remnants of its pack had scattered. Luckily the latter issue could be quickly resolved and the former simply required some patience. Even as the Emergent Lord woke completely and stretched its barbed raptorial forelimbs, Valterra was fashioning a basic horde where his Aether Funnel was.

Simultaneously directing his newly awakened creature to head in that direction he created three Pack-Leader Mantises with around twelve or so members in each of their packs. The majority of the members were Pack-Mantises with a few Mantic Recluses hidden within the fold. He made no other creatures, aware of the fact that the System had warned him against too much artificial creation. In the process of making them, he flexed his will, imbuing each with a fragment of the concept he had touched on. Wrath. By the time the Emergent Lord arrived the small horde had changed.

Gone were the green-mottled carapaces and in their place were red carapaces of a similar fashion to their new lord. Perhaps a little less vibrant but they were similar enough. It didn’t take long for the larger insect to whip its horde into shape and after it did so it stood straighter and looked to where the Dungeon Core’s Awareness hung in the air. Its mind was a burning thing, consumed by the concept that Valterra had given to it, and he could not find it in himself to be sorry for it.

For all that he had transformed it into an instrument of his will it did not mean that his wrath had to be unjust. It was in this manner of thinking that he spoke to his newest semi-aware servant. “You are my Wrath personified and you are my Wrath justified. Take no life out of cruelty or hatred. Take only what you need to grow. You are now a Guardian of this Dungeon. You are my Red Tide.” He saw the tide of Wrath come under constraint, enough for the regal mantis to dip its head in acknowledgment.

It was his Divine agent but retained its agency. That would have to be enough. He had it wait in his funnel room for now where the Aether was strong enough to sustain it. There would be a Floor soon enough where his creature could have the outlet it craved. Until then there were other creatures to see to. His Awareness darted up to the attic where his High Danian Ants were beginning to awaken. He wondered what the Queen had chosen to become. Of the three options available within the Schema for each subgroup there was so much potential for this first colony.

This colony had the greatest chance of driving the species forward as a whole with the cumulative potential it had gathered. Even if he made another group of High Danians they would not experience the same level of growth. It might happen but he had seen the signs all around him. Those that came first in the line of evolution contained more potential. That had been true with his mice, his serpent, the Danians, and many other creatures. The Potential was a cumulative effect. It could be built upon.

He shook those thoughts away as the light faded from the High Danians. He watched as they gathered themselves, looking over their new forms with awe. Each had chosen from the available options forms that both called to them and served the greater need of the colony. The Queen herself, judging from her thoughts, had done the same. The new Battle-Monarch looked over her form with a distinct edge of satisfaction. She was larger than even her Champions in size and physical strength and she would be able to manipulate Aether at a similar level to her Shapers and Magi.

It all came at a cost, however. Her future brood would be lower in number which might affect the colony’s future. The Core let that thought go. He respected his creatures’ right to choose and if the Queen thought this was the way to go then he would respect her choice. Valterra hovered over them, pleased with their awakening, and in the afterglow of their evolution, he called for the Queen to gather her colony. They would have a new home.

At first, they were confused even as they followed his leading but their confusion turned to awe as they beheld his Eighth Floor. The journey had been a somewhat lengthy one and other creatures were waking up but Valterra took the time he needed to see his first Unique creations settled in their new home. He led them past the miniature forest of Pinewillows to the desk with the cabinet underneath. It was into the cabinet that he directed his new High Danians, informing the Queen that this was to be her people’s new dwelling place.

He left them there as there was another creature that was already starting to cause problems for her fellow Dungeon denizens. The Embermaw Mink had awoken and she was quite cranky about it. With her affinity having been transformed to fire she was as beautiful as she was dangerous. Her eyes had turned into amber-red pools of shifting color, sparks leaking from the edges. Her fur had changed color from brown to an ashy black, the tips of which stuttered with spurts of flame. Savage teeth ridged a mouth that dripped fire.

All in all, Valterra was immensely pleased. Now he just had to get her to his Seventh Floor without burning the house down. ‘Nothing for it but to do it I suppose,’ Valterra thought. He opened a hole in the wall of the Fifth Floor rather than have her climb all the way up to the Sixth and then back down. As soon as it opened, the Embermaw scampered through, following his leading trail of Aether. His Awareness trailed her progress, and after closing the opening, actively extinguished the fires that sprouted in her wake.

Upon reaching the Seventh he opened the small stone doors he had set in place and the Embermaw entered immediately. She shivered in pleasure at the heat of it, her gleaming eyes flitting from place to place before she sprinted in and Valterra shut the doors behind her. His Awareness took in the room, flitting here and there as he got an idea of how each type of creature was doing. He found that the moles were the worst off. The sheer heat of the place drained them despite them digging as deep as they could. He made a few more now that he had brought a new predator and hoped the greater Aether density would let them evolve sooner rather than later.

The seed was still evolving but from the light shining off of it, it seemed as though it would be finished in the next day or so. Leaving the Seventh Floor he moved back to the Fifth where a buzzing could be heard. The sleeping Deeplight Swarmer was shaking off the last of its lethargy and taking to the skies and Valterra wasted no time in spawning more and directing them up to the Sixth Floor. Around a dozen took off for higher places and he wondered how his Wyvres would fair against the higher rarity bugs.

Valterra pulled back and watched as the newest evolutions settled in. He would wait a few more days for the remaining evolutions to finish so that he could populate his Eighth Floor. Then he would need to do something about his Fourth Floor through Sixth. With his creatures climbing up to the roof of the house that made up the Third Floor it made more sense for them to descend the inside of the house then. He imagined his father had meant for him to use the basement and its many corridors and rooms as the basis for his Dungeon but he had claimed the whole house instead. He sighed mentally. He had a lot of work to do.