Dungeon of Doors

Darkwick is finally just as quiet as it was on the day it was made. The corpses of the paladins who intended to eradicate me litter the forest in a mess of gore. The wendigir is currently eating some of the corpses, though why I cannot say. The creature can subsist off mana alone thanks to some tweaking I did after its creation. I suppose it enjoys the taste.

Normally I would feel more appalled at the loss of life involved in such an incident, but today? Most certainly not. They got what was coming to them.

After creating Darkwick I added a modification to the dungeon as a whole. Now, when someone who wishes me harm attempts to enter the forested regions they are sent instead to Darkwick. No one who doesn't want to destroy the dungeon will experience what those paladins did.

My gaze traces over the path the paladins took. It was a messy winding one.

When the first of the zealots entered Darkwick they were separated in accordance with my enchantment. One of the two leaders of the group got sent straight to the start of the path. Most of them were scattered in the forest surrounding the path.

This leader--a man they called Claymore--managed to locate a few of his paladins. Unfortunately for him, not all were alive when he discovered them.

The wendigir was busy as soon as it smelled the presence of new prey. It bounded across Darkwick like a quadrupedal beast before slowing and creeping upright. The way it wrapped shadows around itself wasn't something Silva nor I intended for it to do. While creepy, it was remarkably effective.

Picking off paladins one by one, the wendigir slaughtered the invaders. Eventually it got bored of surprise attacks. That was around the time the second leader of the paladins gathered a large group up. They were taken by surprise by the wendigir, and it tore its claws through flesh like it was cutting paper. Most of the paladins perished helplessly.

What saved some of the paladins wasn't their fighting ability, but light. One paladin happened to bring in a lantern. Once the wendigir neared him it couldn't properly shroud itself in shadows. This led to the paladins having a fighting chance.

The second leader of the paladins--a man they called Morning Star--was the one to personally drive off the wendigir. His weapon was a serious threat, and the strength with which he wielded it meant the wendigir finally felt proper pain.

Unfortunately for the invaders, the wendigir quickly got over its initial surprise.

Soon enough it was back for revenge.

Only Claymore managed to make it away from the wendigir. Unfortunately for him, he stumbled straight into the borders of Darkwick. I don't know what happened to him after the shadows swallowed him up. One moment he was there, and the next, gone.

With the issue of the invasion solved, it is time I address the other problem.

There are no adventurers coming into the dungeon. I've been keeping an eye on things, and the paladins came through arresting anyone that so much as looked like they could be an adventurer. The whole thing felt very dystopian to watch, but I'm not going to break commandment two. They're outside the dungeon--therefore outside my jurisdiction.

I'm not sure where they took the adventurers, but judging by direction I'd say someplace in the city. With the paladins occupying the guild hall I'm not sure I'll be having any friendly visitors anytime soon.

This is a problem because of mana--sure, I've just gained a huge amount from the invaders we fended off, but I need a constant supply. Mana is powering every enchantment I've made. Mana also feeds several varieties of plants and animals in the dungeon. It hasn't been an issue, since adventurers radiate mana constantly.

Now? My source of income has dried up.

While it is possible the paladins might send enough invasions to feed me for a while, it isn't likely they'll continue to do so forever. I'd also prefer my only human interactions not be murdering a bunch of people trying to murder me.

What do I do in this situation?

Sighing internally, my gaze slides across my domain. There's a lot of forests, but not much else. Up above the story is the same. A wide expanse of forest with a road and the edges of a stone wall. I have to assume that is Daywark, the nearby city.

Then, at the corner of my territory, I see something new. I hadn't noticed the winding river crossing through the woodland above. Curiosity urges me to follow it as far as I can. The water rushes around bend after bend, and eventually it hits a settlement. The village looks tiny, and I can't see any roads connecting it directly to Daywark. Judging by the netting and docks I would say this is a fishing village.

Now that gives me an idea!

Near the edge of my territory there is a rather high dock that looks unused. There are no nets nor equipment sitting upon it, unlike the other platforms lining the river. It is here I begin, expending a hefty amount of mana to forcefully use my mana so near to so many people.

The damp soil that used to support the dock is replaced. Gradually more compact dirt fills the space, and hidden beneath the dock is a stone door. For now it is closed. Upon its face I carve depictions of fish swimming in a spiral, with lily pads and reeds surrounding them.

It's time I make a water level.

~

The subtle glow of the morning sun gradually shines through the stained glass windows of the enclave. Golden light illuminates the great chapel hall as Bishop Ericson motions for the assembled choir to begin. The men and women begin with a soft harmonious tone.

Their voices quickly move in different directions. Some of them hum a soft background drone, while others start to recite the hymn's lyrics. The performance is the perfect musical accompaniment for the dawn's brilliance.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes, basking in the pleasant atmosphere. I'm sure God is enjoying this performance as well. Unfortunately all good things must come to an end. Soon enough the choir's voices taper off into solemn silence.

"Excellent performance, as always, Ericson."

Bishop Ericson bows deeply to me as a show of respect. I accept it with a smile and he rises to speak to me. The choir files out of the room whilst ensuring their chatter doesn't reach an offensive volume.

"You flatter me, Your Holiness. Thank you."

My day has begun. I leave Ericson to his management of the choir, and begin making my rounds. Each footfall creates a quiet echo as I travel down the corridors of the enclave. The occasional lower member of the church passes me and bows in reverence. I give a few of the more notable ones a cursory tilt of the head.

Eventually my walk takes me near my office. It is there I come upon a familiar sight, but not one I want to see. Someone standing awkwardly outside my office. This time it is not a bishop reporting to me, but a mere paladin. The brute no doubt has something that requires my attention. I sigh, stepping past him and waving him into my office.

"Come in. I'm sure you have much to tell me?"

"Yes, Your Holiness!"

Taking a seat behind my desk, resting my elbow upon its marble surface. The familiar scent of ink and paper eases my nerves. The paladin manages to undo all that ease when he opens his mouth to make his report.

"The cleansing failed, Your Holiness."

My brow twitches at the armored man's bluntness. Is he trying to make me angry?

"Explain. What caused the failure? Was it another issue of cowardice and desertion?"

Possibilities run through my head. I can't imagine any inquisitors would ever turn their back on their mission, so how is it that the mission failed? There's a slim chance the paladins could have been stuck without a leader. That would mean something truly formidable lives in that dungeon.

"No desertion, Your Holiness. Everyone who walked in didn't return... at all."

"What? How can that be?"

"I-I'm sorry, Your Holiness, but we just don't know what went on in-"

My fist slams into the marble surface before I can stop myself. There that nasty habit goes again. Reining in my frustration, I give the paladin across from me a searching look.

"Did you recover the bodies?"

I can tell they didn't by the way he hesitates to reply. Their armor and weapons aren't exactly cheap, so failing to recover their bodies is a huge loss. I grit my teeth as he replies.

"We sent two search parties into the dungeon-"

"What did they find? Anything?" I cut him off.

"N-Neither group returned, Your Holiness."

An unpleasant knot forms in my stomach. If the inquisitors and our search parties both vanished without a trace, then something strange is afoot. My purview is with people. Politics, management, and money. This frightening nonsense is beyond me. I need to consult him.

"Leave me!"

The paladin stiffens at my sudden outburst. He parts his lips to utter some nonsense, and I cut him off with a sharp gesture of the hand. Pointing out of my office does the trick. The buffoon stumbles out of my office--I shut and lock the door behind him.

There's no time to waste. My hands shake slightly as I fumble with the books on the shelf, activating the hidden passage. I can feel beads of sweat gathering on my palms as I wait for the bookshelf to slide aside.

Once the corridor is revealed I quickly go to enter, before stopping and fetching a candle. Using this tiny flame as my only means of seeing is the price one must pay for knowledge. I descend the steps with bated breath.

Time passes agonizingly slowly as I walk down the stairs and into the dark. The stale air of the chamber urges me to sneeze. I don't, instead waiting for the sensation to pass.

Finally I reach the foot of the steps. The cavernous space around me is too large to be lit by the tiny candle I've brought, but that is for the best. I can hear God's Voice shifting someplace just out of sight. The scraping of something sliding across stone sends a chill up my spine.

"Holy Father, the heretic you sent us to eradicate is... stronger than expected."

There's an uncomfortably long silence. I don't know why it is taking God's Voice so long to reply, but it has me sweating. After what feels like thirty seconds of silence something clicks in the darkness beyond my candlelight.

Now I hear him, God's Voice. The faint rustling croak of his words reach my ears.

"Your... Words... Loud."

The faint silhouette of a lengthy pointed appendage akin to a spider's leg flits into the light before retreating. I swallow my own saliva before prostrating myself to the ground. I've forgotten the most basic of rules, and I fear God's wrath.

Whispering, I apologize "I am deeply sorry, Holy Father. Forgive me, if you would be so merciful."

Another brief pause follows my groveling before the pressure lessens. The shifting shapes in the darkness seem to grow more distant as I glance upwards. He speaks once more.

"She is... Starved."

My brow furrows. God has yet to specify who this strange woman is he keeps referring to, but she is undoubtedly responsible for the dungeon. Maybe some kind of demon? I haven't the foggiest why her starving is important.

"Break... Her... Door."

There's a certain sternness in God's tone this time. I immediately nod my head, shakily rising to my feet. Reports mentioned the dungeon having a door for an entrance. If God is telling us to destroy it, then we will do just that.

"I will see it done, Holy Father. Thank you for your boundless wisdom."

Faint scratching sounds fade into the dark as God's Voice retreats. I can feel him watching me as I turn to leave. I pray God's plan is successful, for returning to report failure will most certainly mean the end of my reign.