The cavern's oppressive silence pressed against my chest, each heartbeat a drumbeat in the suffocating stillness. Irregular pulses of light from the dungeon core illuminated the chamber in uneven flashes, throwing jagged shadows across the stone walls.
Beside me, Hamish shifted uneasily, his grip tightening on the jagged kobold sword. "Chief, I've got a bad feelin' about this," he muttered, his voice tense. His eyes flicked to the pedestal at the center of the room, where the dungeon core sat, glowing with an unnatural, rhythmic light.
"You're not alone," I replied, hefting my shillelagh. Its polished wood felt reassuring in my hand, though my fingers tightened around it more than I cared to admit. "But we didn't come this far to turn back now."
We stepped forward cautiously, the ground beneath us trembling with an ominous rumble. The core's light grew brighter, its pulses quickening like the beat of an impending storm. The tremors intensified, rolling through the chamber like distant thunder.
From the shadows near the pedestal, a massive form began to rise. It emerged slowly, as if pulled from the earth itself—a titan of jagged stone and crystalline veins pulsing with mana. Moss and fungi clung to its rocky body. The Dungeon Guardian stood towering and primal, its limbs angular and brutal. Two orbs of burning light glared at us from its featureless head, filled with unrelenting hostility.
Hamish took a step back, his face pale. "Hey, Chief?... That's not a kobold."
"No," I said grimly, my eyes fixed on the glowing veins. "It's not."
With a guttural roar that shook the chamber, the guardian took a thunderous step forward. The ground quaked beneath its massive weight, and I had to steady myself against the tremors. It raised a massive arm, crystalline claws glinting in the dim light as it brought it down in a sweeping arc.
Hamish and I dove in opposite directions, the claws gouging deep trenches in the stone floor between us. Scrambling to my feet, I cast Thorns, sending a volley of sharp projectiles hurtling toward its chest. The spell struck true, embedding itself into its mana-rich veins. Cracks splintered around the impact points, and the guardian recoiled slightly; its guttural roar revealed its pain.
"It works!" I shouted, dodging as the guardian swung an arm toward me. "Go for the veins!"
Hamish roared, charging toward its legs with surprising speed. His jagged sword struck the glowing veins running along its thigh, the blade sinking deep into the stone. The guardian staggered, its movements slowing as light rippled through its body like a disrupted current.
"Gotcha, ya big bastard!" Hamish yelled, confidence flaring.
The guardian's burning eyes narrowed, focusing on Hamish. It raised its massive fist, slamming it into the ground and sending a shockwave rippling outward. It threw Hamish off his feet, landing hard on his side with a pained grunt.
"Hamish!" I shouted, panic flaring as I activated Earth Manipulation. The ground beneath the guardian shifted and softened, causing it to stumble as its immense weight worked against it. Summoning everything I had, I cast Earthmaw, the stone beneath its legs rising into jagged jaws that clamped down tightly.
The guardian roared, its massive body straining against the earth's grip. "Now's your chance!" I yelled.
Hamish pushed himself to his feet, determination twisting his face as he activated Double-Beat Strike. His sword glowed with a flare of light magic as he swung at the trapped leg. The first strike cracked the crystal veins, and the second shattered them entirely, sending shards of stone and crystalline rock flying. The guardian convulsed, wrenching its legs free with a burst of strength, but it staggered backward, its movements growing erratic.
The guardian's struggle was far from over. The guardian slammed its fists into the ground again, simulating an earthquake. The runes etched into the chamber floor flared to life. Pillars of stone erupted around us, forcing us to scatter. One of the pillars caught my shillelagh, sending it skittering across the floor.
"Damn it!" I muttered, diving behind a boulder for cover. "You alright?" I called out.
Hamish grunted, clutching his ribs as he crouched behind another pillar. "Aye, just winded," he said, his voice strained. "What's the plan now, Chief?"
My mind raced, my gaze locking onto the veins of mana running along the guardian's torso. "We need to hit it harder," I said, my voice steady despite the chaos around us. "I'm going to try something. Cover me."
Hamish nodded, adjusting his grip on his sword. "Don't get yourself killed."
Raising my hand, I focused on the ground beneath the guardian. Channeling every ounce of my strength, I forced the stone to rise in jagged spikes around its legs. The spikes pierced its rocky exterior, and the guardian roared in frustration as its movements were restricted.
Seizing the opportunity, Hamish charged once more. His blade glowed with energy as he struck the glowing veins on its torso. The guardian's body was laced with cracks, the light within flickering dangerously. The guardian collapsed to one knee, its arms hanging limp as it let out a guttural groan.
Hamish and I held our positions, our weapons ready, but something in the air made my stomach twist. The dungeon core pulsed rapidly, the light intensifying as the runes on the floor flared to life once more.
"It is STILL not done!" I said grimly, my heart sinking. "Get ready for round two."
The Dungeon Guardian's shattered form began to shift, its cracked and crumbling body knitting itself back together with disturbing speed. Jagged stone fused seamlessly, and veins of mana flared brighter than ever, their light pulsating in time with the dungeon core's rapid thrum.
"It's getting stronger," I muttered, my breath ragged as I retrieved my shillelagh from the ground. The weapon strengthened my mental acuity. Across the chamber, Hamish pressed a hand to his ribs, and a flare of his magic aided the bruising to his ribs from his fall.
"Stronger and angrier," Hamish growled, adjusting his grip on his jagged kobold blade. "I'd love a hammer about now. Or a really big pickaxe... I bet it's got a heart made of a big fat diamond."
I stared at the creature's reformed body, my mind racing. There's no way to kill a construct that can just rebuild itself. There had to be a means for it to regenerate like this. My insight skill kicked in and directed my vision to the clue.
The glowing veins running along its frame were still its weakness, I realized. But something else was feeding its power. My eyes darted to the runes etched into the chamber floor, their light flaring in sync with the huge teardrop-shaped core. The air buzzed with energy, the runes almost alive as they pulsed and shifted in patterns.
That's when everything clicked into place. "The runes," I said, my voice firm despite the chaos. "They're fueling it. If we disrupt them, we can stop its regeneration!"
Hamish frowned, his eyes scanning the room. "Easier said than done. These bloody things are everywhere."
"We'll have to hit them fast," I replied, activating Insightful Mind to analyze the runes' magical currents. The skill sharpened my focus, and I quickly identified a cluster of runes glowing brighter than the rest. "Those first," I pointed out, the light from my shillelagh marking the runes for Hamish. "Break those. I'll keep it distracted."
Hamish nodded, determination flashing in his eyes. "Be careful, Robbie."
I didn't have time to respond. The guardian roared, its massive fists slamming into the ground and sending another shockwave rippling through the chamber. Stone pillars erupted around me, forcing me to dart and weave between them.
Activating Earth Manipulation, I sent jagged spikes toward the guardian's legs again, attempting to slow its advance as Hamish made his move. Hamish charged toward the marked runes, his blade glowing as he swung with all his strength. The first strike shattered a rune, sending a ripple of disruption through the chamber. The guardian faltered, its movements stuttering as the glow in its veins dimmed slightly.
Encouraged, Hamish turned to the next rune cluster. His strikes were precise, each one shattering the glowing symbols and weakening the guardian further. But the dungeon wasn't going down without a fight. The remaining runes flared brighter, emitting bursts of energy that lashed out like crackling whips.
A bolt of energy struck Hamish in the leg, sending him sprawling to the ground. He groaned, struggling to push himself up as the guardian turned its burning gaze toward him. Panic flared in my chest.
Without thinking, I stepped out from behind my cover, raising my shillelagh as I cast Thorns. A huge volley of sharp projectiles shot out of the new weapon toward the guardian, striking its head harmlessly, but it drew its attention back to me.
"Get up, Hamish!" I shouted, my voice strained as I dodged another energy bolt.
Hamish tightened his grip on his blade with both hands. He forced himself to his feet. With a roar of defiance, he lunged toward the nearest rune cluster, his blade cleaving through the glowing symbols with raw power. The runes shattered, their light fading as the energy in the chamber waned further.
I focused on the guardian itself, channeling the last of my mana into Earth Manipulation. The ground beneath its feet shifted and buckled, jagged spikes erupting to destabilize its movements. The guardian roared in frustration, its massive frame swaying as the remaining runes struggled to sustain its power.
Hamish's strikes grew faster and more desperate as he closed in on the final rune cluster. Each swing sent shards of light scattering through the air, the guardian's body convulsing in disturbing, jerky twitches as its mana veins dimmed further.
Observing the golem in distress due to Hamish's destructive work, I also surged forward, directing my remaining power into my granite shillelagh. The crystal knob on its end glowed brighter, and I filled it with my will. My intent was to shatter. To break.
I wielded the powered weapon in two hands and swung it like a baseball bat at any part of the golem I could reach. I hit its arm, its side, its upper thigh, and its backside when I danced around behind it—every solid hit jarring my arms but breaking chunks of him off too. Every crack, I could feel mana leave me through my weapon and shatter chunks out of this final guardian.
But the dungeon core pulsed violently, its light surging as the last runes flared in a desperate attempt to hold the guardian together. "Finish it, Hamish!" I yelled, my voice raw with exhaustion, yet still swinging.
With a final burst of strength, Hamish swung his blade in a wide arc, cleaving through the last two runes in a single, decisive strike. The chamber fell silent, the oppressive energy dissipating as the core's defenses collapsed. The guardian let out one final, guttural groan before its body crumbled into a noisy heap of inert stone and crystal.
The air was still, save for the beeping of the dungeon core. Hamish and I stood motionless, our breaths heaving as we surveyed the aftermath. My shillelagh hung loosely in my hand, the exertion causing my fingers to shake.
Across the chamber, Hamish leaned heavily on his blade, his face flushed with effort but triumphant. "We did it," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "Aye. We sure damn sure did!!" He exulted and then cheered, "YAHOOEY!"
We laughed together then, two men in a deep, corrupted fortress, the only way we could express our relief at surviving a stupendously dangerous adventure. Golden light shimmered in the air, drifting down like falling stars as the dungeon acknowledged our victory.
A treasure chest materialized near the core, its surface glowing with intricate runes. The chamber, once a chaotic storm of energy, was now eerily calm. The buzz of the dungeon core filled the silence, its glow subdued and steady.
Hamish and I stood amidst the debris, the adrenaline in my veins slowly ebbing as the weight of exhaustion settled in. Golden light shimmered around us, the dungeon's acknowledgment of our hard-fought victory. A large treasure chest materialized in the center of the room, its surface adorned with glittering runes.
Hamish limped toward it, his expression a mix of fatigue and anticipation. As we approached the chest, familiar system notifications began to fill my vision. Lines of golden text scrolled by in rapid succession, summarizing skill increases, rewards, and achievements. My focus wavered, the sheer number of updates too overwhelming to process immediately, so I decided I'd talk with Moira later.
Hamish chuckled weakly, leaning on the chest for support. "Well, Robbie, looks like we've both got some work to do later, sortin' through all this."
I nodded, dismissing the notifications with a wave of my hand. "Agreed. Let's see what we've earned first."
Hamish gripped the lid of the chest, bracing himself as he lifted it open. A soft glow emanated from within, revealing a trove of treasures neatly arranged inside.
Hamish held up the rare earth crystal, turning it in his hands as the polished surface glinted in the dim light. "A polished gem, this one," he said, his voice laced with professional focus. "Radiates earthen energy, strong stuff for crafting and enchantments. Not a scratch on it—pristine condition." Hamish had an eye for the value of objects; that's why I hired him. He had quite the latent talent for appraisal. He was particularly valuable as a treasure-hunting archaeologist.
He turned the obsidian fragment over in his hands, its jagged edges catching the dim light. "A shard o' black glass, infused with magic," he said, inspecting it closely. "Good for weapon upgrades, if ye know what yer doin'. Sharp as sin, too."
"Five hundred really pretty gold coins—intricately minted coins, each gleaming with pure gold and silver alloy."
Next he reached in and held up the chest plate of the Golem, an armor, turning it over in his hands as he inspected it. "A rugged piece, finely crafted," he muttered, running his fingers over the enchanted surface. "Durable, lightweight... metal plates that protect vitals... and it looks like arms are free to move. Aye, this'll hold up in a fight." He adjusted the straps experimentally before nodding. "It looks like it was made for me, heh, heh." He said, snickering. "This one's mine. Fight me for it."
I laughed, "No way. It's all yours."
Hamish picked up the Enchanted Dungeon Key, holding it up to the dim light. "This one's a mystery," he mused, running a calloused finger over the intricate runes etched into its surface. "Looks like it'll open somethin' deeper in the dungeon. Probably somethin' nasty, knowin' our luck."
"Three Assorted Potions"—Potions for healing, mana restoration, and minor resistance buffs.
He also picked up the runed tiles, turning them over in his hands with a curious frown. "Perfect squares, engraved with runes," he muttered, tapping a finger on one. "And they've got Aetherite crystals embedded. Not sure what they're for, but they're pulsing with energy—bet they've got some hidden use. Maybe a key to somethin' or some kind of power source."
Their purpose remains unclear, but they pulse with an energy that suggests hidden potential. I'll definitely be keeping those.
I picked up the rare earth crystal, its smooth surface warm to the touch, and slipped it into my satchel. My gaze lingered on the Enchanted Dungeon Key. It pulsed in my hand, a tantalizing promise of deeper challenges and greater rewards.
Finally, I walked over to the hulking pile of rubble. I extended my hand to the fallen stone elemental and attempted to activate Essence Refinement. I could feel the shape of its elemental spirit in my mind; it was enormous. It was old and ancient, yet it had been trapped in this place for millennia. Other than the occasional kobold intent on sniffing out its treasure, it never truly tested its fighting ability. Unlucky for it, we were its first real challenge.
I attempted to dissolve and unmake the entity, just as I had done with the other corpses. But it was resistant. I was not quite skilled enough, at least not yet. I would have to train this more in the future if I wanted the truly grand prizes. The essence I could extract was several slabs of perfect stone, the same material as this hidden fortress's walls, but there was one unique thing.
"Hamish…" I said slowly and turned. "You were right."
In my hands was an enormous, perfectly clear, and already cut diamond. It was immaculate and faintly glowing with its own light.
He gasped, "Good heavens, holy hell…" He uttered. Quickly, I packed it away to experiment on later.
With the chest emptied and our spoils secured, we turned back to the dungeon core. Its steady glow seemed to pulse in acknowledgment, the runes on its surface shifting slightly as if awaiting instructions.
Hamish raised an eyebrow, adjusting the newly donned armor. "What's the plan, Chief? This place still feels alive."
I approached the core cautiously, the shillelagh in my hand still throbbing with magic. "Let's see. Do I need to shatter this?" I examined the crystal and found a slot in it. "Hey. Give me that key you found."
Hamish did so willingly, and I slid the key into the slot for a perfect fit, and nothing happened. Hamish glanced at me and the key, and I folded my arms unsure. "...turn it, genius archeologist."
Hamish grunted at me. "I... I will! I'm just... thinking," I lied. So I turned the key, and the core lit up bright. It flashed internally, sending radiant prism rainbows singing around the room. Everywhere the colorful light struck any corruption, it sizzled and screeched, as if it was alive and being destroyed. Black smoke was all that remained of it, and it drifted into the ceiling high above. As it did so, it glowed brighter and brighter.
The core's light flared momentarily, and its melodic voice resonated in the chamber. "Master of the dungeon, Thank you for unshackling me. I am at your service. What is your command?"
I glanced at Hamish, who gave me a worn-out but supportive nod. Command? I wondered to myself. It's asking me how I want it to continue forward. Is this what the warlock did to it?
Considering the knowledge I'd learned from Moira about magic and the mythology of the world, I wondered whether much of it was true. The villains told of in the ancient tales... Were they real somehow?
Turning back to the core, I spoke with as much clarity as my weary mind could muster. "Core, tell me how you came to be a dungeon-creating kobold and a danger to mortals."
The core's light brightened, pulsing with an almost mournful rhythm before it responded, its melodic voice carrying a somber tone. "This fortress was once a bastion of Clan Lamont, defenders of Albion's northern reaches. Their faith and strength were unmatched, yet they fell to treachery. Emissaries sent by the warlock were disguised to negotiate peace, but under the cover of night, the wretched traitors struck. Many of the clan were slain in their sleep, in the halls, and others were taken as slaves. Or worse."
I swallowed hard, my grip tightening on the shillelagh. "And you? How do you fit into this?" I was ready to crack this big crystal wide open and pillage its materials.
"I was shaped by Lamont hands," the core continued, "but corrupted by the Emissaries' shackles. They restructured my will and made me serve as an autonomous overseer of this fortress, commanding kobolds and a golem guardian to repel all intruders. Over the centuries, nestled deep within the Blacklands, formerly the HighReach, this polluted fortress remained largely untouched—without need to evolve, for none dared venture here until now. You are the first to breach its walls since those dark days."
The heavy news of the core's words settled over me, its tale a dark beginning chapter, revealing a fragment of Albion's history. I glanced at Hamish, his expression a mix of anger and unease.
"Moira," I asked cautiously, my voice cutting through the heavy silence, "are we in Albion right now?"
Her voice came softly, but there was an edge to it. "That tale is for another time, Robert. We have more important things to do, but ... soon. I promise."
I frowned but said nothing, making a mental note to press her on it later. Whatever the answer, it would have to wait.
So I turned back to the core, "You have a new master now, and my cause is more virtuous. Create a new dungeon, scrap everything here, and build it all fresh. I want the first floor to mimic the wings of a magnificent bird. The design includes a left wing, a right wing, and a central hallway that serves as the bird's body. Dedicate one wing of the dungeon to combat training. Create regenerating kobolds and similar creatures for sparring, protection, mining, and dungeon service. The other wing should focus on resource gathering—crystals, metals, anything we can use to build and grow. Divide upgrades evenly between the two wings."
I thought for a little while, deciding on a purpose for this place. "There should also be a grand staircase descending from the central hall into a new dungeon. One built for training of mortals. Testing them to their limits, complete with dangerous challenges, rich rewards, traps, and violence to test their spells and strength. Use kobolds and other races you have access to to populate these areas, with a boss at the end of each floor for greater risk and greater rewards. You can magically generate these things using Mana, correct?"
"Correct, Master. All of the creatures you destroyed here returned the magic that sustained them directly back to me. You should know, though some of these beings I create will be more intelligent and powerful than others, most are little more than magical constructs without sentience. I will spawn rewards, construction, population, and resource types based on the blueprints available in my current form. I sense that I can learn more if you bring other cores like myself to me and let me absorb the power. Most will not be as large as I am. I am unique."
I nodded thoughtfully, "Very well. I will keep that in mind. For now, leave an entry portal to this room open and seal the rest of the dungeon from the outside. The only entrance will be magically through my portal that I used to arrive here. Whatever these Blacklands are, I don't want them to be able to come in whenever they wish and steal you or access my home easily. After the sealing, focus upon the training dungeon, resource gathering, and then optimizing the evolution, growth, and improvement of the Kobold wing for reliable workers. Treat them well, even pay them, and sell them things they require. Try to tame their feral nature out of them. I wish you to build a simulation of a city here, with the kobolds as your population. Further, ... Don't use the lizard variety. I prefer the warm-blooded ones."
The core pulsed green in acknowledgment. "Understood. We will prioritize training and resource gathering. Kobold variants will evolve as necessary for training purposes."
I hesitated for a moment before adding, "If this dungeon creates any advanced beings, notify me immediately."
"Your will is my command," the core replied, its light dimming slightly as it began processing the orders.
With the core's function set, we gathered our spoils and turned toward the exit. Hamish adjusted the fit of his new armor, his movements slow but deliberate. "If this is what we get for nearly dyin', I might just be mad enough to do it again," he quipped, a tired grin spreading across his face.
I laughed softly, exhaustion and relief mingling in the sound. We made our way out of the dungeon, the soft shine of the core fading behind us as we finally stepped into the cool air of the Highland night.
Something tells me that the whole world is going to change.