The Slime Dungeon: Book 1 (The Slime Dungeon Chronicles) (15 page)

              Rock at this point had backed all the way up to the wall. The fear and terror inspired by the battle finally succeeded in breaking the spell on his mind, but it was much too late for him. The exit tunnel was only a few feet away, but the second hound was already moving toward him from the same direction.

              "So this is how it ends,” Rock sighed sadly to himself, "Killed by the very worgs I hunted. I guess the irony is good enough;” He mused for a moment, before finally remembering what he needed to know.

              Mind benders were extremely rare, because the ability was blood derived from an ancestor; one of non-human origin. In fact, the ability to cloud the minds of men had always been of that particular race's domain.

              He slid to the floor and closed his eyes. In a moment, a felt a heavy wind on his face, smelling strongly of blood. He opened his eyes to see the open maw of the beast in front of him.

              Then Rock the mage thought no more.

Chapter 19

              Doc winced as he watched his new daughters gnaw on the bones of his latest victims. While familiar with death, he actually had little experience with literal bloodshed as his slimes dissolved everything they killed. He wasn't squeamish, far from it, but it was still unnerving to see a man's pelvis being torn piece by piece apart; especially when the ones who were eating acted so cute to him.

              "Are you having fun there girls?" Doc asked them. The girls had gone through 6 fights before adventurers had gotten wind of their existence and came better prepared. This latest group had managed to kill one of his daughters, but had still been slaughtered by the remaining one.

              "We're fine Poppa,” said the one chewing on a leg, "Dying hurt, but it was kind of fun coming back."

              Doc had trouble talking to the two of them, as neither had opted to be named. They did everything together and often times answered together as well. "The Twins" had become their moniker, and Claire had agreed it was the best way to address them.

              The pixie in question was currently watching the twins from a peephole in the walls, separating her tunnels from the rest of the dungeon.

              "Girls, remember to wipe your mouths after chewing on bloody remains!" She called out, "While facing enemies with dried blood on your mouth is intimidating, it is also a sign of laziness and low intellect."

              "Yes, Momma, we understand!" The twins called back happily.

              Claire really seemed to be used to these kinds of things. Doc wasn't sure whether to be impressed, proud, or terrified.

              The twins had successfully integrated themselves into the dungeon. Doc, whose consciousness was in multiple places at once, could hear the warnings being spread from adventurer to adventurer. He was proud of the fear in their voices; fear that was directed toward his dungeon. He also picked up that facing the two without a suitable reward would result in a bit infamy for his dungeon.

              Specifically, he heard conversations in the copper room that went on like this:

              "Did you hear about the new floor boss?"

              "Yeah, I heard it was a pair of worgs; survivors of that worg pack a few days ago."

              "No one has been able to get them yet, and a lot of adventurers are outraged at their presence."

              "Why? It's not like there is anything good past them. The herbs are starting to lose their value anyway."

              "You obviously haven't heard that Moonglow was round in the final room. The requests for the herb are staring to approach gold!"

              "I doubt that, but a highly rare herb like that does sound good. I wonder what other plants will begin to grow in the future."

              "Right? Now, imagine all those herbs, but the worgs are blocking access."

              "So what; worgs are pushovers. My grandmother used to tell me how she killed worgs for fun."

              "Bollocks to you grandmother; they are still killing people. I bet there isn't even a decent reward for killing them."

              "Yeah, the dungeon loot is pretty low in value. I'll stick to copper thank you very much."

              “I guess the loot is pretty bad,” Doc admitted as he examined his slimes. The best loot was dropped by the grey slimes, but very few were ever killed and most were avoided as they primarily lived in the pitfall traps. "I wonder what I can do for rewarding the twin's killers."

              The thought sounded morbid, but monsters who didn't die viewed death as more of an annoyance that an insult. Fighting also served as the main source of entertainment, so the adventurers were paying for rewards in their own way. To quote the twins on the subject of adventurers, "They pay with playtime or blood; either way we'll be satisfied."

              Doc examined his astral bag. It was filled, but very far from being full; holding the equipment and weapons of slain adventurers as well as the small amount of coinage Claire had given him. He noted a piece of leather armor form his first kill, a robe from a mage, and even a potion. Muttering to himself, he turned his attention to Claire.

"Claire, I need help deciding what to give as a reward for fighting the twins."

              Claire fluttered back to the plant room and settled down on her perch. "Do you mean the drop loot? That's easy silly," She giggled at him, "Just make it a part of them."

              Not understanding her meaning, Doc raised an eyebrow at her--metaphorically speaking, of course.

              "As you grow your dungeon repertoire,” Claire explained, "You'll find that boss monsters are the easiest ‘mob’ to assign loot for; ‘mob’ being a shorter way of saying dungeon monster. Typically, a dungeon boss drops a piece of equipment that holds a small portion of their power within it. Also, the boss commonly drops better than normal equipment than the rest of the dungeon. A ring that boosts strength, for instance, or swords of light are some examples for boss loot."

              "How do I get that kind of loot?" Doc asked her, "That sounds like something rare that only good adventurers would drop."

              Claire giggled again, "Silly, all you have to do is make it yourself. I realize our attention has been distracted by a great many things, but now it's time to work on the loot system for you dungeon."

              The pixie flew to the wall and created a mana screen. She waved her hands and formed pictures of every monster type in his dungeon. "Let’s change things up for everything while we're at it. Now Doc, how is the state of your astral bag?"

              He shrugged, causing his slime body to jiggle, "It's got a lot of stuff in there, that's about it."

              Claire nodded her head, "Great, now go ahead and dissolve everything."

              Doc gave her a blank look. “Come again?"

              "In order to create your own, unique loot, you have to understand both the type of equipment and the nature of the enchantment on it. As a dungeon being, anything you absorb into yourself is processed in a way that you know everything about it automatically. Dungeons are the only race in the land that can learn through absorption rather than active learning; another advantage you have over the other races. Dissolve everything in your astral bag for now."

              Doc concentrated as his mana flowed through his astral bag. As it moved, his mana absorbed everything it touched and soon left the bag empty. He blinked as he felt things appearing in his head, things he hadn't known before, but knew now. "Claire, I know all about all these new things!"  Doc cried out excitedly, "It's so amazing! I can see the ingredients for potions and the names of smithing techniques used to make swords!"

              In his excitement, he flowed out and back into the overslime and began waving a multitude of small tentacles in every direction. Claire laughed and flew down to join him, dancing with the tentacles on top of his body. She swayed back and forth in time to the inaudible rhythm, her eyes smoldering as she took a tentacle by the hand and shook with it. Doc laughed and had the tentacle swing her in a circle.

              When the moment was done, Claire flopped on top of his body and sighed as the overslime conformed to her shape. "Now that your ‘knowledge dance’ is over, it's time to work. Have you been making more silver and gold?"

              Thinking of the gold and silver growing behind his walls, Doc nodded in agreement.

              "Perfect, but we'll get to that in a moment. First thing is first, we need to make monster specific equipment. Things that hold a monsters power are quite rare, so it should appear once every 1000th kill. For your basic slime, try to make a belt."

              Doc had lots of belts in his mind: thick belts, skinny belts, big belts, little belts, and even some decorative belts. He focused on one of the simpler belts in his mind, bringing it up and examining it with his mind's eye. A simple piece of leather, it was held together by a small oval buckle and could be sized for any body size.

              With a shine, the belt materialized in the room. Claire inspected it as it fell to the ground and nodded her approval.

              “This is definitely a normal belt, good job Doc.” Claire changed the picture to one of a belt with sparkles around it, “Now, try to imbue this belt with mana. While you’re doing that, imagine the monster who will have this and imbue their essence into it.”

              Thinking of his first monster, Doc thought of how they wobbled and crawled on the ground; how their bodies bent around obstacles and weapons. His purple light slowly seeped down into the belt as it glowed for a moment before settling back down.

              "A belt that increases one's reflexes and agility; quite appropriate for a rare slime drop and a job well done.” Claire complemented. “Now,” She continued, "Try think of a weapon for the twins; something that relates to what they are."

              Doc knew of just the thing, and focused himself. With another bright light, a pair of ornate, black daggers appeared in the room. The daggers were long and sharp, with a pointed guard and round pommel ends. A wolf head growled out from the bottom of the blade on both sides, and the entire weapon oozed blackness.

              "Darkness attributes daggers,” Claire said as she examined the pair, "How appropriate for our girls. These will be valuable to any who rely on the shadows to attack. I'm very impressed with how you formed this Doc; it shows you have a great imagination."

              Doc blushed as his overslime body gained a tinge of red.

              "Now's not the time for rest though; hurry and make more unique loot!"

              When he was done, Doc had created a variety of equipment for his four remaining monsters: a minor healing potion for the herb slimes, a full leather outfit enchanted for physical resistance for the grey slimes, a magical hat that changed hair color for the mimic slimes, and finally a purple whip for his overslime. The whip had the added enchantment of inflicting minor acidic damage with every blow and could leave a serious burn on any who felt its touch. He separated the outfit for the grey slimes into its individual pieces, requiring multiple kills to get the whole set. Of course, every unique drop was extremely hard to come across, which made the outfit even more valuable.

              Besides the unique loot, Claire also had Doc improve the general loot for everything. Monsters were more likely to drop silver coins with bronze coins, and the boss monsters had a rare chance of dropping a gold coin. In addition, all monsters had a small chance of dropping enchanted rings, whose effect ranged from minor improvements to a small boost in an attribute.

              The herb slimes were also given an increased chance of dropping some of the herbs they had eaten, and mimic slimes could sometimes drop a vial of perfume. The perfume was a bit of humor on Doc's part, as he felt the human girls had a strange infatuation with smells and looks.

              The entire process had required a lot of energy on his part, so when he was done Claire and the twins wished him a goodnight as he left the overslime on auto-pilot and flowed into Claire's bed. He relaxed comfortably as he went to sleep after a hard day’s work.

Chapter 20

              King Duran rubbed his head as he listened to the nobles in front of him arguing. As soon as word of the situation at the dungeon town reached the city, the noble party had been immediately been called together for a vote on the matter. The issue at hand had been the rumors of malicious forces at work in the area. With the confirmation of the presence of worgs and rumors of evil demons roaming that area, the vote had been brought up to destroy the dungeon or allow for its continued existence.

              "Order, I will have order in the room!” He called out, banging a wooden mallet on the table. The heads of the ten major noble families and their aides had gathered around the oaken table, and they quieted down as the orators of the debate stood up.

              Father Tobias strolled to the front of the room, his robes lightly gliding across the floor. He faced the nobles and bowed deeply to them. "Good day to you, men of noble blood.” He began, "I wish it was under better circumstances that we could meet."

              He cleared his throat and held his hands out, "It is my unfortunate duty to bring to bear the issue of the day. In weeks past, the presence of the newly formed dungeon has brought much wealth to our fair city and your coffers.” He waited through the mutterings of agreement, "In that time, the dungeon town has risen remarkably and become a special place for many interests. It is unfortunate, then, that the area has become a bastion of evil and corruption."

              He held up his hands to quiet to gasps and angry murmurs, "Thanks to the constant and consistent reports from the adventurer guilds, we know of the pack of worgs that was defeated some time ago. In addition, we now know that some of the pack survived and have become floor bosses within the dungeon. In addition to this, rumors have abounded the town of creatures of demonic origin in the area."

              At this, the second orator stood up. Lord Mannis cleared his throat as he took a place next to Father Tobias. "Good father, while I agree that the surviving worgs are troublesome, it is not a cause for concern or worry. The dungeon has been confirmed to only hold the two worgs; which is hardly a cause for concern. In addition to that, many adventurers are praising the dungeon now for the vastly improved loot that has appeared in recent days. In regards to the rumors of demons," He waved his hand dismissively, "That is all they are at the moment, mere rumors spread by superstitious shepherds. There has been nothing to substantiate them and no reason to destroy a precious source of wealth.” This set off another round of muttered comments of agreement.

Father Tobias raised an eyebrow, "So, you lack the faith to follow through on rumors of festering evil?"

Lord Mannis snorted at the veiled jab, "If evil truly was festering in the area, I would be calling for my troops at this very moment to eliminate the threat. Wargs, for instance, would have been a valid concern, while worgs on the other hand are merely stronger beasts and have no connection to any infernal origin. If this were truly a problem, the elves would have set us notice and would have their hunters tracking the entire forest.”

              The good father smiled pleasantly and held his hands out, "What of the strange instances the reports have mentioned about people with their memories missing or the murders in the night?"

              Lord Mannis scratched his chin, "It is sad when newcomers to the adventuring lifestyle drink so much they lose a hold of their head and wake up in barns with nary a stitch of clothing on their backs. In regards to the rumors, disagreements always arise when wealth is involved."

              Father Tobias sighed and let his hands down, "I see there is little incentive for destroying the dungeon at this time. However, may I petition this council to allow for a bastion of faith to be established at the town? It would do well to alleviate some of the concerns that many followers have."

              Lord Mannis smiled and bowed to him, "My dear Father, I will pay for the expenditures myself; no need to trouble the council on such trivial matters."

              "Oh, ho, ho, how generous you are Lord Mannis."

              "Indeed Father Tobias, I have often heard that word used to describe me.” The two shared a laugh, though for some reason everyone else in the room felt chills down their back. Even in this council room, the two men held power that rivaled that of the king.

              King Duran banged his mallet on the table, "In regard to the dungeon, the matter has been settled. Lord Mannis will finance the construction of a church at the town and Father Tobias will see to it that it is properly staffed and blessed for emergencies. All in favor?"

              Fists thumped the table together, a sign of agreement from all present.

              "Now, the next order of business is the war. Our latest reports…"

***

              Ken knocked on the door and waited.

              "Come in.” A voice called out.

              He walked into the room of his sister, Princess Diana. The princess had made a complete recovery a few days ago, but the healers had denied visitors to her room until now. Ken had been waiting for his turn anxiously and had come as soon as his elder brothers and parents had finished their visit.

              "How are you feeling Diana?" He asked kindly as he took her small hand in his.

              Diana swatted his arm away and stretched her arms out from underneath her covers. She was wearing her normal clothes in her bed, a sure sign she was feeling better. "Dear brother, you know better than anyone that nothing could hold me down, not even death. Do not think I am some weak princess who becomes bedridden at the first sight of blood."

              Chuckling, Ken walked over to her other side and sat on her bed. "You know, we were all really worried about you.” He said, staring into her eyes seriously, "It was a very touch and go experience for a while there. Even our elder brothers sat aside their feud to visit you."

              Diana smiled and hugged her brother, "I know, and I am sorry for worrying you and everyone else. I truly regret it."

              Ken smiled and returned her hug. When they were done, he cleared his throat, "I've been assigned by father to interview you on what you remember. While I am sure he has already asked his own questions in front of mother, he wants to know if you can name any other members involved; also, he didn’t want mother finding anything out, otherwise with her temperament she might blow up their entire families."

              Diana giggled at the thought, and then frowned as she began to think, "My memories are not clear after I left for the camp. I have been trying to remember it myself, but there is a large gap between leaving Duran and entering the dungeon. I'm sorry I couldn't have been more help to you, but it is all a blur."

              Ken smiled and ruffled her hair, "It's alright little soldier; we all know how traumatic that was for you. Tell me," he hesitated for a moment, "Do you suspect one of our family was involved in this atrocity?" His eyes were pleading as he held her attention on him.

              Diana's face was completely neutral as she stared into the face of her big brother. "I don't know.” She said honestly, "What I do now is that the seal was real, which means someone with great power or trickery used it or…"

              Ken nodded, understanding her reluctance on the matter, for no one ever wanted to suspect family. "One last thing, can you describe this mysterious dungeon hero, Doc?"

              Diana stared at him, "I can only say that he was noble and possessed good intentions toward me. It was too dark to make out his features, but I remember the strength in his arms as he carried me out of the dungeon."

              Sighing, Ken smiled wryly as he patted her hair, "Thank you for your time, sister. I'll leave you now to your rest.” They shared another hug and Ken left the room, filled with more questions than answers.

              Diana waited until the door shut behind her brother. When she was sure she was gone, she began to shiver as she held herself. The fear had almost broken through her mask, but she had held it together. Every time one of her family came to check on her, she was overcome with fear and terror. Which one had been the one to target her? She had no idea, but every hug given she searched for a dagger and with every smile given to her she searched for its falsehood.

              “I'm not safe here,” she thought to herself, pulling the covers over her head, “It's not safe for me here.” She could feel the agony of terror eating her very existence from within, and that frightened her more than anything else. Not only was someone trying to kill her, she was also on the path to becoming a danger herself to everyone around her.

              She knew the reason for that. Many thought of her as the muscle head of the family, but she had learned insight and cunning from her eldest brothers at a young age.               “Those men were never out to kill me. Their role was merely to break me and turn me against my family.” She had thought long and hard about what had happened to her, and she had lied to her brother about no remembering anything; she remembered everything and knew Sir Koran was involved. “If I hadn't taken steps to prevent this, I would have already fallen into the enemy's plans.”

              Indeed, she had been quite out of it during her rescue, but she had retained enough of her mind to put into action a plan to save herself. Thankfully, it had been a partial success; though it did contain an unexpected side effect.               Her arm stopped shaking long enough to draw on her blanket, outing the fur in a circular pattern. "Mr. Slime, I want to see you again."

***

              Koran snarled as he threw his cup against his tent. The wine spilled as it tumbled and landed on the floor. "Explain this to me again,” he growled, "What did my father say?"

              The messenger cowered from the man's hostile gaze, "Your father bids you to not come home until this whole affair is forgotten with. He expects you to put on airs of generosity and spread your good name through the area."

              Koran groaned as he sat down onto his chair, folding his hands in front of his face. He was tired of hanging out in the boonies with weaklings; he wanted to return to the city and pickup wenches again. The only women out here were too dangerous to use and throw away; even the bar maids were protected by the male patrons and barkeep after hours.

              His entire trip had gone to hell from start to finish. Exploring the dungeon had been interesting and all, but he had expected it to be an open and shut affair for a B-ranked adventurer like himself. Instead, he had received a letter form one of his partners in the city slums to wait there for a potential payday.

              Koran had accepted the offer; he had no reason not to, and it gave him an excuse to woe Mary in the meantime. Sure, she was a filthy half-breed not fit to be in the same room as him, but Koran was taught from a young age to be a practical man by his father. Even half-breeds had their uses, especially the pretty ones as long as they were dealt with after. Koran relished for the day he could take her to one of the other cities with more suitable laws and have her sold to a brothel. He, of course, would be her first customer and he would get off on her begging and pleading for his love. Pleasure slaves were well known to be taught their proper places.

              Unfortunately, he hadn't counted on the job to involve the princess. He had recognized her when she came in, but hadn't known at the time she was the target. That led to problems, such as the fact that she HAD SEEN HIS FACE. If she remembered, she could place him as the cause of the incident and ruin everything he had worked for.

              The letter had outlined that the girl needed to be properly broken. It had even been signed by the royal seal, meaning he couldn't back out of the deal once he had read it; otherwise his life would have been on the line. Still, he had taken steps to make sure no one could place him at the scene. He entrusted the job to his most trustworthy "friends," the sons of lesser nobles who did whatever he wanted in order to gain prestige and influence.

              Somehow, they had fumbled the job and completely ruined everything. They even had the audacity of dying before they could be suitably punished. Even worse, the princess had named them her attackers before passing out, which meant that eyes had turned a suspicious gaze onto him.

              He cursed the mysterious dungeon savior Doc; cursed him for his interference in his affairs. Now, Koran was forced to play nice with weaklings in order to waive suspicion off of him, and now even his father was taking steps to distance him in case he was found guilty.

              "Leave. Tell my father I will remain here to preserve my good name.” Koran commanded, "But, be sure to remind him that if I go down, I'll make sure he comes with me.” They had the perfect father-son relationship: practical, distant, and fully connected. The messenger bowed low as he hurried out of the tent.

              Koran mused on his chair. In order to salvage his name, he needed to make generous gestures to the people. He was well versed in political maneuvering and knew how to play with lesser beings, but his mood wasn't up for it.

              A knock at his tent distracted his thoughts. "Enter," he announced, "State your business."