The Orphans and Thrognar- The Dungeon of Greed

  The crowd of bloodthirsty brigands finally managed to kick down Greed's front door with a resounding boom. They piled into the narrow hallway ahead of the orphans with gusto, people already sprinting. Resh made sure to hold everyone back because he knew what was about to happen.

  The crowds surged and surged forward with absolutely nowhere to go because they still had two damn toll doors to get through. Grunts of pain and loud curses echoed out of the hallway, and the idiots half trampled each other; whoever was at the front was getting squished into the toll door.

  “Now?” Orlock whispered, eager to lay into the crowd while they were distracted.

  “No, not yet. We need to let them filter out into smaller groups and then start picking them off a few at a time… I really don’t think they are ready for the utter fucking chaos that’s about to unfold in there. God only knows what greed will do when threatened with invasion. The bastard would sell us our own kidneys, and I think he actually likes us. What do you think he's going to do to them?” Orlock nodded in understanding, sheathing his oversized sword.

  There was a shrill, brutal scream ahead: “Oh, oh gods, no, my manhood! You bastards! Someone, anyone, a healing potion, please!” The crowd surged forward once again, apparently the second toll door having been opened with the blood cost.

  Thrognar looked forward with his face paling, his hands instinctively lowered protectively. Orlock snorted in amusement. “Man, that guy just got stabbed in the dick by the door spike, didn’t he?”

  Resh rubbed his hand down his face. “As horrific as that is, yep, I think that’s exactly what just happened. This…might not be as hard as we thought.

  “One down, about thirty to go.” Lily said with a dark flicker in her eyes and a smile bordering on sheer glee. The “puppy” yipped in agreement from inside Resh’s pocket.

  They followed a slight distance behind the crowd, making sure not to get caught up in whatever godawful thing was about to happen next. Surprisingly, whoever was at the front used their brain and just paid the last toll door, avoiding another pile-up or required blood sacrifice.

  Everyone filtered into the loot bug playground in wonder. Bandits are already trying to grab at the hissing residents. A somewhat annoying green light shone overhead. Cromwell stood at the front of the loose assembly of marauders, raising his staff high with a piercing flash of fire to gather everyone's attention. He kept nervously glancing towards Bully's pit. Soft malicious hu...huuu huuuus… were echoing out like a bull recognized his scent and was anxious to host him again.

  Crowmwell pulled his eyes from the foreboding home of the resident doomsday prepper and addressed the crowd now that he mostly had everyone's attention. “Now listen here, hired help! You have two jobs! Keep the distinguished members of the mages academy hale and hearty, dashing aside anything that dares challenge us! And of course finding the core! Our wonderful resident expert here will elucidate you on how that will work!”

  There was an annoying flash as the strange light overhead suddenly turned red. Everyone froze; they had all read the rules. Cromwell sighed and raised his staff. There was a brief flash of mana, and the light switched back to green and stuck there. It tried to turn to red again a few times and then simply gave up. Cromwell smirked and returned to elucidating the hired help.

  He gestured toward the terrifying greasy visage of the mage with the flesh-bound tome. Nostradamus smiled a bit uncomfortably widely, his mouth seeming to move almost separately from the rest of his face as he stepped forward to address the crowd. Even the nearest bandits seemed slightly taken aback by the not-quite-right appearance of the college ritual master.

  The “puppy” let out a small growl as he began addressing the crowd like it didn’t quite like him. Nostradamus’s voice was unsettlingly passionate in a way that would make even whatever dark-hearted god created spiders recoil in discomfort. “Hmmm, yes, yes now, the first thing we all must understand is that this dungeon is a beautiful living being formed of pure supple mana. Just ready to be stroked into a usable shape.”

  Thrognar’s brows furrowed, and he leaned in to whisper to Resh, “I think Thrognar should call an adult or just squish creepy hair.”

  Resh leaned back. “I mean, not yet, but a solid fucking maybe to both of those things because, sheesh, there is something wrong with that guy.

  Nostradamus continued on, either unaware or uncaring of the discomfort rolling through the crowd. “Now as a wondrous glorious living being, its core is like its heart, practically throbbing with power. I have brought a few implements you can use to feel that throb. I would now ask the leaders amongst you to come forward and accept my gift.” A half dozen figures begrudgingly shuffled forward to accept a small oval rod from his eager hands; it vibrated subtly in Resh's grip.

  “Now when you are close to the core, the device will resonate with the core and increase its tactile emissions.” Everyone just looked confused; even Cromwell has gone from valiant conqueror to concerned and befuddled onlooker.

  Nostradamus sighed. “The magic rod wiggles harder the closer to the dungeon core you get. If it’s trying to fly from your grip, then you are probably within twenty strides of it; if it stops moving or moves less, you are getting farther away.” That idiot-proof explanation was met with "ohhhhs" and "oh yup, that makes sense." About half of the assembled group started moving forwards towards the loot pit; the rest began waving around their core divining rods like water-finding sticks or immediately giving in to avarice and chasing after loot bugs.

  Resh slowly scanned the room; one small group was near the entrance trying to catch a loot bug hidden angrily in a spire. Loot bugs were starting to congregate on the ceiling and floors near that party; he knew where this was going. If they kept it up, they were about to get swarmed suddenly and without mercy—the perfect distraction.

  He covertly got everyone's attention and led them towards a small group of two men right next to the tripping hazard above Bully's pit. Another group was trying their luck at the jumping puzzle to search the far alcove, but Resh figured gravity, karma, or mimics would sort those idiots out.

  The two nearest were violently bickering. “No, just shove your skinny fucking hand in there and get it; you’re built like a damned stickbug.”

  “I ain’t about to do that. You see its eyes? It had murder in its eyes, Craig. Mark my words, that one has a taste for human flesh.”

  Thrognar nodded in agreement. “Angry buggies here do nibble a lot.” They both looked to him and then back to the hidden loot bug in concern.

  A sudden panicked quartet of screams sounded near the entrance as a tide of loot bugs descended onto unsuspecting prey like a swarm of locusts unto the wheat. One especially unlucky bastard went down like a sack of panicking potatoes. The bugs running roughshod through his hair and into his armor.

  A blast of wild barely-aimed skills and spells started careening from that corner of the room. One bandit was even charging away from the fuckery straight through the air with a very impressive movement ability. He clipped his head so hard on a protruding random ceiling angle that the crack drowned out the screams for a moment.

  “Ohhkay, holy shit, I think that guy just killed himself with blunt force stupidity, but, uhh, here’s a hell of a distraction.” Resh intensely whispered to the others.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Orlock nodded. “Aight, but what are we gonna do? We can’t just gut them—too many witnesses, even with the chaos and blood on the blade afterwards and all that. ”

  Lily’s eyes twinkled maliciously. “I have an idea.” She turned to their lumbering friend, who was currently trying to pet a loot bug that very much so didn’t want to be pet.

  The loot bug valiantly stared down Thrognar’s probing digit. Even making tiny mock charges and clacking its mandible to really show him it meant business, “Don’t be afraid; just one little boop is all Thrognar needs.” The loot bug obviously took that as a threat because it lunged, nipping with all the force it could muster, latching onto his finger, and trying to death roll like a gator to pull the damn thing straight off. It was Thrognar, so it didn’t actually accomplish anything other than sitting in one spot long enough for him to get his boop of a pet to land on its shell gently, ish.

  “Hey, Thrognar, don’t you think those two should go play with Bully?” Lily suggested malevolently.

  Thrognar looked thoughtful for a moment. “A barbarian bug isn’t a good starter pet; they should master golden bugs first!”

  Resh sighed deeply, then tried to idiot-proof it. “They are here to kill greed, and the puppy Thrognar pushed them in the fecking pit! We are here to pretend to be bandits, remember, not actually help them!”

  A haze of red flickered across Throngar’s eyes briefly as he slowly connected dots and came to his damned senses; he had been having too much fun with the bandits the last couple days and had obviously forgotten they were evil cutthroats. He nodded darkly and took a big step right up next to them.

  “Thrognar heard nasty rumor that we are here to murder Mister Greed and all the cute critters.” He stated it like a question, but the orphans rolled their eyes; even now the big lug didn’t want to believe it.

  One of the bandits looked at him like he was stupid. “Uhh, yeah, big guy, that’s the plan? Always has been. Break the core and loot everything we can of value.”

  “And…the mimics?” Thrognar asked on the verge of tears at the betrayal “what you do, the mimics?”

  The same bandit chuckled darkly. “Ahh, I get it, big guy; you just want in. Don’t worry, me and Phil here would be happy to have your help when we hunt and skin those buggers, especially the big one that’s supposed to be in the village. His hide has to be worth a small fortune.”

  Thrognar sobbed quietly at the thought of Remose being skinned. “Not scrawngly door!” His eyes turned hard. “Orphans, right, you are bad guys.”

  Thrognar grabbed each of them wrathfully by the shoulder and sent them sailing into the bully's domain with a harsh shove. Their screams were short-lived, ending in two heavy thuds followed by the sounds of a drawbridge being lowered. Thrognar peered over the edge, his face a statuesque expression of wrath and conquest as he watched the two men below face the judgment of the “Barbarian bug.”

  Resh had watched the entire overly long exchange with growing frustration and more than a bit of concern, especially now that Thrognar stared down at them like a damned executioner. “That was…astounding…” he muttered to himself. Orlock nodded in agreement.

  “So much self-inflicted upsetty when all he had to do was shove a motherfucker.” Orlock shrugged and looked back towards the rest of the room to make sure no one was giving them the ‘I saw that’ stare. Thankfully the few people that were still here were very preoccupied with one of a half dozen mini calamities cascading across the room. Mostly swarms of loot bugs because, of course it was.

  Thrognar gazed down at his victims with no mercy. They had threatened his precious scrawngly, so it had to be done; they had to be purged. Bully laid into them, ragdolling the bastards from one side of the pit to the other, the very walls reaching out to slap their limp bodies with screaming carvings.

  Thrognar gave one last nod towards his future familiar down in the pit and turned back to the others. “We go save scrawngly door now.” His face left no room for argument.

  Resh shook his head, just happy the big guy was solidly on board. “Lead the way, big fella, but remember, they all think we are on their side still, so stealth! Strike from the shadows and all that.” The “puppy” ominously yipped in response, and Resh paled as he felt something uncomfortably like a sharp tentacle shift within the “puppy” pocket.

  ***

  Egbert-Directly Above Thrognar

  Yess yess, that’s right, give in to the rage, Thrognar. If you don’t slay every last invader, they will wear your beloved mimic like a damned skin suit on Hallows Eve!

  And you, my beloved wonderful miscreants. That showed up on my doorstep with your hat in hand and heads held low, asking, nay, begging for me to take you in. I am truly sorry for ever doubting your allegiance. I should have known you were simply playing it smart, planning to eliminate the invaders from within!

  Don’t you worry, kids; every single one of these absolute savages will be sent packing minus a limb or three and with empty pockets. I have dotted quite a few new surprises around this place to help fend them all off, and I'm just getting started.

  Not to mention we have a handful of adventurers who have stuck around to help fight off these asshats. The knights are currently accepting every damn job that’s available on the board right now. I even saw Ben say, “Fuck it,” and whip out the magic missile wand.

  Max is setting himself up, gods know where, in full adventurer mode, ready to relive his glory years on some unsuspecting upstarts! Even, even the yokels are still running around. Tammy, bless her heart, accepted a few of the available quests. They started casting some grand ritual down in the battlefield that I'm sure is to summon something unfathomably awful to defeat the mages.

  Ahh, speaking of adventurers who want some extra greed points, it looks like a few mages and their uncouth friends are about to run into the fearsome twosome…and…sigh… Boo’s new sibling—that’s right, kids, I caved. I added to the horrors held within that room because I don’t want to die.

  Egbert finished his grand monologue to himself, realizing that A) they couldn’t even hear him and B) they had all rushed into the loot pit a while ago. With a sigh, he looked around the loot bug playground to try and get a count of how many casualties it had caused.

  The two bastards down in Bully’s pit were limp, flopping sacks of unconscious flesh that Bully was currently robbing blind. He chortled to himself as he clipped their swords onto his shell and then stole one man's rather nice Plate main pants to add as well. He also stole their boots before he roughly stuffed them into a cage he had forged into the wall of his lair with sheer mana and spite.

  Huh…he's not even going to use the boots, is he? They are leather… Bully sniffed the boots, squinted at them in displeasure, and then simply sunk them into the floor of his lair with a dark sound similar to a chuckle. Yeah, nope, didn’t want them, just wanted to be a dick. That tracks.

  Alright, two in the pit and…

  Egbert looked at the one guy who had brained himself charging away from a swarm; he hadn’t moved for a concerningly long time at this point. He could check his kill count, but honestly he would rather just not know. There was another couple who were crawling out the door crying quietly.

  He could feel his gold total slowly trickling up from their room violations.

  Mmm, yes, your tears literally fuel me. Gods, that feels evil to say, but if there's a time to embrace my inner dungeon, it's today. Okay, two in the pit, one guy… probably knocked out, and two fleeing that are still being very, very slowly eaten alive by loot bugs. Five in the first room, not half bad.

  Egbert skipped past the loot pit for now; everyone has simply rushed past it other than a small group of three who he was certain were about to get parboiled the second someone down in the tavern pressed the new” Switch the difficulty.” Switch on these fucks. They turned on easy mode fair and square, sure. But someone downstairs could switch it back for the special price of a copper today.

  Egbert braced himself as he flew over a small crowd of shitheads, and past Nostradamus, the creepy bastard; his eyes immediately tracked upwards towards his metaphysical viewpoint. Nostradamus mouthed the words “You will be mine” at him.

  Nope…because you weird me out even more than spiders do, you guys get a treat. Boo, Jhon, Ender, and remorse are waiting for you in here along with…it…god, why did it have to be worse than Boo?

  Egbert let his view swivel over what was about to be an utter shit show of a battlefield. The myconids were already washing over the bridge like a tide being fought back by quick blasts of flame. Remorse was weirdly well hidden for once as a damned stalagmite of all things practically quivering in excitement.

  Jhon was nearly pissing himself hidden in the first cottage with Boo happily stuck to the ceiling above him. He and Ender had wisely bought the Boo protection pass for this ill-fated idea of theirs.

  And Ender, Ender was one house farther up the road with an eight-legged horror the likes of which the world would be better without, lurking behind him. He shivered slightly as it let out a small malicious giggle that didn’t match its form. It shifted slightly to look over his shoulder out the window.

  One poor brigand on the bridge looked up at the worst time possible, straight in the window, into its eyes. He tried to point and shout a warning. But suddenly his body wouldn’t obey him. He felt himself falling endlessly downward into the dark things clawing at his flesh, at his soul. Worms crawling up his face towards his eyes.

  Egbert looked at the one brigand who just started randomly losing his absolute shit on the bridge, eventually flinging himself over the edge into the water to the confusion of his neighbors, and let out a sigh.

  Yep…can’t put that horror back in the box now, just grin and bear it. At least everyone will buy the spiders-be-gone passes now.