Tiny Dungeon

POV The High Spirits

“So, how is he doing?” Trik’Weri asked as he made his way over to Il’Fen. The High Spirit of Conflict looked over to him from where he stood hovering over the pool where they scried the mortal world. The other High Spirits were out and about performing their miracles and dealing with the supernatural threats that occasionally cropped up. This also served to distract their priests and various religions from noticing their attention. Il’Fen ironically had much less to worry about on that front as most of his priests and religions were all crusading or in one war or another. Most wouldn’t notice his lack of attention since he could answer prayers from anywhere within the god-scape.

“He is doing fine although there have been complications. His Danians have been pushed back on both fronts and one of the colonies is struggling to pull through. The Fallen seem to be adept at killing them but perhaps it is that particular colony’s lack of experience showing itself. The first colony’s queen has shown immense foresight in the design of their home.” Here the High Spirit’s voice became tinged with excitement and Trik’Weri had to hide an eye roll. There was nothing Il’Fen liked better than commenting on tactics.

“There are traps and dead ends and those, combined with the Danians' love of attacking from above have silenced quite a few attackers. Most of the Fae have abandoned conquering the Second Floor and have instead rejoined the main group who are about to attempt to cross the Fourth Floor. Others have decided to explore other ways to get deeper.”

“Oh?” Trik’Weri said, a question lacing his tone. “Some have broken away from the main pack?”

“Aye, brother they have,” Il’Fen confirmed. “Three dragon-kin and a couple [Salamanders]. They seem to have had enough of little Cormac. An interesting persona there wouldn’t you say, brother?”

Trik’Weri nodded and answered his brother's insinuation. “Yes, brother I have my eye on him. Have for a while actually. We shall see if our young nephew can humble him to the point where he will see sense.”

Il’Fen turned and looked at his fellow High Spirit searchingly. “Hmm, I’m not sure that Valterra will be willing to let him walk free even if you do manage to claim him as a disciple. Not to mention that he may make it to Valterra's Core." Having said that his face grew cloudy. “Have we decided what we will do if the Fae manage to reach his Core and try to claim him? Do we let them? I for one am unwilling to let such a thing happen.”

Trik’Weri held up a hand to calm his brother. “Do not be so hasty Fen. Valterra has his evolution upgrades to help him and quite a bit of Divine Potential from these invaders of his. Depending on how he goes about defending himself there is a high chance that the Delvers never see the inside of his Aether Funnel, much less his Core. As for whether Valterra will let the Fae go, well…let’s just say I’ll have to convince him of it.”

He ignored Il’Fen’s look of disbelief and moved to observe the Dungeon himself. The deal he had made with Valterra was not something he had discussed among his fellow brothers and sisters, largely from the fact that once it came to light he expected to be grilled mercilessly by them for exposing the young Core to danger. He shrugged mentally. He would deal with it when the time came.

With that line of thinking reaching its conclusion, he turned to a new line of thought. The Fallen were an interesting development to be sure. He had known there was a remnant within the Fairleghn Forrest of course but he had dismissed them in the same way that all the other higher beings had. They barely clung to their sapience and had been in danger of devolving further for decades. Their society had obviously deteriorated after the breaking of their Authority and the silencing of their parasite gods.

He watched them thoughtfully as a few Fallen raided the Danian colony on the far side of the house away from the Fae. The leading group of them had already Delved lower and were seeking a way across the waters of the Fourth but Trik’Weri ignored them for now. He focused on the ones above, observing their shifted forms critically, watching how they slavered and drooled, throwing themselves into combat with very little concern for their own safety.

The Fallen in his sights were barely more than animals. They communicated through psionic waves which, while impressive, only revealed the depths of their stagnation. Mind magic and magic of the blood had been their forte for ages and to see it reduced to a state of mere communication was almost enough for Trik’Weri to pity them. But then he remembered their attempt at blasphemy and promptly went back to remembering his disgust for the vile little creatures.

He watched as they tore through the Danian defenses like wet paper despite heavy losses. They wouldn’t succeed in conquering the entire Floor, of course, but the colony they were targeting might well be entirely destroyed by the time they got done. He moved on from them to watch the three Fae brothers moving down a section of the in-between. That is, the section of space that existed between the inner and outer walls.

‘I suppose that would be the First Floor?’ Trik’Weri wondered to himself. He clicked his tongue in disapproval. The first thing his nephew should do after this invasion was over is clean up his Floors into something more manageable. Then again, perhaps this unmanageability will be what will save young Valterra from being conquered. The High Spirit shrugged and summoned his throne to continue watching in comfort. The young drakes were getting awfully close to one of Valterra’s evolved bugs and he looked forward to seeing what would happen.