Tom O’Bedlam
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Descent into Tarin-Tiran, Chapter 8
🕑 Added 2022-06-23 15:45:00 +0000 UTCUnder Ruprecht’s power and influence, the ruined manor had been fully restored. In fact, it was restored far beyond any degree necessary for the party’s purposes. Ruprecht, however, was having none of anyone’s objections.
The energies are mine to use as I see fit.
‘Not when we’re the ones risking our lives to bring you dinner!’ Jhess protested.
Robin noted that while the rogue was irritated, it didn’t stop her from lounging in the lap of luxury Ruprecht’s efforts provided.
If I don’t have something to do I’ll go absolutely insane, and right now, all I have to do is restore this manor house! I’m saving absolutely everything else for expansion when you finally decide on which direction you wish to head next.
‘We’re getting close,’ Robin said, raising a hand to gently pat the nearest wall. ‘Just a few more spots on Red’s map to investigate, and if we’re lucky we’ll know exactly where we need to go to claim the treasure.’
Robin flicked his fingers and a [Visual Phantasm] of the local area in miniature appeared. It was hazy and misty in many places—the areas he had not yet explored—and small red dots marked the locations he had translated over from Red’s map. Those the party had been to already were ringed in green.
There were also a few blue dots, locations he’d marked based on his own research and hopes. He’d persuaded the party to investigate two of them—those were ringed with white—but aside from a few more fragments of not-yet-useful-knowledge, neither location had had much to offer.
Then, thinking carefully, Robin flushed the area that Ruprecht maintained as his territory in a light gold. There was an immediate brightening in the atmosphere of the manor house.
I approve of your colour choice.
Me too! Rerebos added. Shiny!
‘This is where we are, right now,’ Robin said, marking the manor with a silver star. He started there and went around the map, explaining the various markings and his rationale for including them.
‘What about the entrances we’ve found to—‘ Jhess shot a glance at the walls around them, ‘—the other D-U-N-G-E-O-N?’
I can spell you know. Ruprecht observed drily in their heads. And I am quite capable of maintaining my composure in the face of mentions of other living dungeons, thank you. I’m hardly a child.
Robin wisely chose to leave that hanging without response, and instead added small black archways in the two locations on the map that they suspected were entrances to the Great Dungeon consuming Tarin-Tiran.
Really? Ruprecht’s voice was suddenly poised and distant.
There was a small rumble beneath them and the party froze. There was a sound like the jingling of coins in the air and then silence fell again. The party exchanged glances.
‘What was that?’ Jhess demanded.
I have felt the presence of the other dungeon since we arrived on this level, but it was a distant thing. Now that you’ve drawn my attention to those locations that sense has sharpened. But it also feels…incorrect. The map seems wrong—well, incorrect—to my senses. So I have made the executive decision to use some of my stored energies to produce a pair of scouts.
‘You can do that?’ Vance asked with interest. ‘I’ve heard of dungeons disgorging monsters of course, an endless wave of maddened, bloodthirsty—‘ he coughed. ‘That is, I did not realise you could marshal scouts as well.’
It is somewhat more expensive and risky than most dungeons are willing to entertain. There is a high chance that the scouts might break free, or be killed. Ands I will receive no intelligence from them until they return. And many dungeons—not me—are notoriously parsimonious.
Robin bit back a laugh. Ruprecht? Not parsimonious? Yeah, and Scylla and Charybdis weren’t all-devouring monsters.
‘Why scouts?’ Jhess asked. ‘I could probably answer most of your questions.’
Are you attuned to dungeon energies? Ruprecht’s mental voice all but rang with a heightened tone of shock that dripped sarcasm all over the nice, clean floors. I had no idea you were so accomplished! And here I thought I was the only dungeon occupying this space.
Jhess burst out laughing. The atmosphere around the party went slightly hazy with Ruprecht’s amusement. Robin really didn’t understand that relationship at all.
However, in all seriousness, I do believe that the other dungeon, as you term it, may be far closer to this location that is indicated by those tunnel entrances.
‘How much closer?’ Savra asked. ‘I presume from your tone that that might be a problem?’
I am not so proud as to believe I would easily prevail in any form of direct dungeon-to-dungeon combat. It is likely that if I draw too near, the other dungeon may bridge the distance between us and seek to subsume me to fuel its own growth.
‘That happens?’ Robin blurted out before his [Bardic Lore] informed him that yes, it did happen. Rather regularly, in fact.
Indeed.
The party looked sombrely at Robin’s map. They might have quite a few fewer options for progression through the dungeon than they thought, if they had to tiptoe carefully around the other dungeon.
‘How long until the scouts return with useful information?’ Drev asked. ‘Best case scenario?’
It should not be long. I imbued them with qualities for speed and stamina, and most of my creatures are inherently good at stealth options.
Robin knew what that was like, as a fellow shapeshifter.
The party fell into discussion and Savra began producing food and drink. This was a council of war, of a sort, and they needed to keep their strength up.
And their spirits. Robin made sure to add nice touches of flavour to all of the dishes and drinks as he could, keeping up a steady flow of cantrips.
His hands were really incredibly limber at this point. Oh the ivories (and other things) he could tickle right now!
He refused to let the song about the piano man start ear worming him, however.
Eventually, Ruprecht announced that his scouts had returned. The dungeon’s voice was troubled and Robin felt his blood thicken in his veins. Things were about to get heavy.
Meet! Rerebos chirruped, demanding that the scout be brought before the party to deliver its intelligence, even if only Ruprecht would be able to understand it.
Robin was just glad the little catbird hadn’t started talking to everyone and restricted himself to mental communication with himself and Ruprecht.
Ruprecht complied with the request, and soon two very sleek looking mimics—full treasure chest size—galumphed up the stairs. Jhess jumped a little at their arrival.
‘Those little feckers are quiet,’ she said. ‘Nicely done!’
Thank you. Now, please shut your mouth so I can concentrate on retrieving the intelligence we require.
Robin suddenly felt an echo of the connection he and Ruprecht had shared, back during his first foray into the dungeon. There was an image appearing in his mind—the map! Ah. Ruprecht wanted him to just…
The bard twitched his fingers (mostly for effect) and the map shifted. A translucent black suffused the area Ruprecht was outlining for him, the likely extend of the other dungeon’s reach.
It was…extensive.
Not everywhere, true, and not universal. But there were fingers of it stretching out in many directions, some the size of bloody fjords if the sense he was getting from Ruprecht was correct. Any one of those protrusions would be large enough to swallow Ruprecht’s current area two or three times over.
‘That,’ Jhess said, ‘is a big dungeon.’
‘Dangerous, too,’ Vance added, ‘though I did a great deal of research on it before we left Noviel. The outer reaches shouldn’t be beyond out skills. Going too deep, however would be all but inviting death and disaster. No party from Noviel has ever made it to the greatest deeps and returned to tell the tale.’
‘On a scale of one to ten, with one being your average apprentice at the guild, and ten being the guildmagister, what are the highest rated teams that have tried?’ Man, Robin would really kill to have a universal system to translate power into levels for this question.
‘The Guildmagister is probably punching at about the sixth or seventh circle of power, I’d say,’ Drev opined. ‘I don’t think any parties high level than him have attempted the dungeon.’
Oh right. Tiers were still a thing.
‘The most effective spells at piercing illusions are all—at a minimum—fifth circle,’ Savra said. ‘Though here I’m not so certain they would be perfectly efficacious. Even as it is certain seventh tier illusions can fool most of them. In many cases it comes down to individual power comparisons. Skill and environmental factors count for a great deal, even with the aid of magic.’
The party debated relative virtues of spells amongst themselves for awhile, with Jhess rolling her eyes the whole while, before Robin brought them back around to the point.
‘But the highest tier group of individuals to make it back alive from the dungeon,’ he asked. ‘Who were they and do we know how deep they made it?’
‘We do not know how deep,’ Vance said. ‘Especially given the illusory nature of everything we’ve found so far, even if they had measured properly, they might be mistaken, fooled by the dungeon. It’s all but impossible that it wouldn’t have all manner of illusory traps and misdirections at its command.’
‘The highest tier party I know of included Khavren’s mother,’ Drev said, with a faint sign to ward off evil. ‘This was perhaps two decades ago. I think they averaged the seventh tier? Though Khavren’s mother was only fifth or sixth herself at the time. And as it was not the entire party made it back.’
Maybe Khavren had a bit more justification in mistrusting shapeshifters and illusionists than Robin had realised. The man had still been a bigoted dick, but maybe there was more to the root of his psychoses than terminal Lawful Stupid.
However, as you said, the outer reaches should be safe enough. The dungeon will not place the greatest threats upon its borders unless it is feeling threatened, and I cannot imagine what might threaten a sentience of that level. They will want to lure as many monsters and adventures and patrols in as possible, so there will be little resistance and tempting rewards at the edges. It should be possible to engage in a few careful, bold forays and emerge relatively unscathed and at great profit.
‘And if we want answers to everything Red had recorded in his journal, we will ahve to do so,’ Savra pointed out. ‘Look.’
Robin looked. Based on the intelligence retrieved by Ruprecht’s mimics at least two of the remaining red dots were distinctly inside the other dungeon’s territory.
‘Did he brave the dungeon and mark those locations or has it expanded since Red died?’ Drev wondered.
‘Does it matter?’ Jhess demanded. ‘What are we going to do now?’
‘There’s only one thing we can do,’ Robin said lightly. ‘We’re going in, and coming back out with the answers we need.’
He paused, then added a little sweet to the bitter news.
‘And as much treasure as we can scam out of the old bastard!’
