- Chapter 11 -

Eleventh Hour

As I crawled down the Dwarf’s throat I could feel myself permeate throughout his body, shrugging his mana aside. A strangled scream left my mouth- muffled by the Dwarves insides. I had come in contact with the holy mana still lingering in his arm, but soon it fizzled out. When my influence reached his head, my will battered against his consciousness for control. The resistance I encountered was rapidly fading. When I come across no more, I knew I had won control over a corpse. A hollow victory. I unsteadily stood up.

“What. THE FUCK?” questioned Parallel Me.

Turning to him, I couldn’t help but shrug, “It sorta just, happened.”

“You accidently possessed someone?”

“… Yes.” I tried to move around some more. “To be honest, I think all I did was take over a corpse.”

“So, you killed him in the process?”

I started stretching, working out the kinks. “Hay,” I said defensively, “He was already dying, there is a hole in his chest. But what can I say, I just instinctively reacted when he ATTACKED me!!! And after I finally managed to get those undead to stop attacking him too! Ungrateful bastard!” I felt things in my inner pockets as my robes rustled and a satchel sway on my hips. I moved to open the satchel. My fingers, a little stiff and my control a little clumsy, meant it was quite the challenge. The satchel was filled with ink, feathers and some other tools I didn’t recognise. However, in seeing it I was more confident in Gravis’ observation.

Ignoring my corpse puppeteering practice, Parallel Me said, “OK, OK- I get your point. We’ll talk about this later. We need to leave.” We both turned to Gravis.

Gravis pointed to some scrunched up parchment, lying near my feet.

“And you’re sure it’s a map,” Parallel Me asked as I bent over.

“Yes.” Gravis replied, self-assured.

Since Gravis was only able to observe them through the eyes of one Fallen after they had come under attack, I doubted I would get an answer, but I asked anyway, “Do you know what they were doing? Did the give any clue as to their goal?”

“It seems that they were mapping the area.”

“So, it won’t be a completed one?” I uttered as I unfurled it. Looking it over I said, “Interesting.”

Parallel Me, on the other hand, said, “Damn!”

We both looked at each other. “How can you see the map from over there?” I asked.

“My senses are provided by you and the Core. The Core is in a box, so I’m using you. I’m talking to you while viewing myself from your perspective. It’s weird, get over it. More importantly, what is so interesting?”

“Unfortunately, it’s not a complete map. And it looks like they weren’t trying to map the whole dungeon, just the path they were taking. The interesting part, for us at least, is that it looks like they originated from the Dwarven Capital city…”

“You can’t be serious!”

“I am.”

“You’re in the corpse of a Dwarf. And you want to go into the capital city? Why not just commit suicide and save everyone the trouble?”

Angry, I asked, “Do you know of a nice clear route to the island?”

“…No.”

I held up the pouch. “Mapmaking tools. If he made one he has probably made more.”

“That’s a guess.”

“And thinking that we can navigate this labyrinth isn’t?”

“How will you find this Dwarves home? Or business?” Parallel Me quizzed, “And don’t get me started on the probability of there being other maps- let alone ones that will help.”

“He obviously has some status in his church, I’ll just feign fatigue and bluff my way through whatever needs be.”

“That sounds rock solid.”

Sighing I continued, “I’m sorry. What do you want me to do? I’m really trying here. I mean, is there much of a difference between walking into a city of Dwarves or a labyrinth of monsters? At least there is hope that the Dwarves can be reasoned with- if I’m found out.” I watched as Parallel Me’s stubborn attitude wavered. Going for the kill I said, “At the very least the city will have an exit. If we can be sneaky enough we can use the city to get to the surface and we will be able to use ‘The World Map’.”

Hearing that, Parallel Me’s posture straightened. “A city of Dwarves or a labyrinth of monsters… That Dwarf used Holy magic.” Not missing a beat, he said, “Holy magic is held in high regard. Holy healing spells are the undisputed number one method for healing, which is by itself something invaluable to adventurers…”

I encouraged, “…and, this is relevant because…”

“And… Holy magic is capable of resurrection.” Disregarding my reaction Parallel Me continued, “Don’t you see? Its reputation is… mighty. That’s bad because Holy magic is all about smiting Demons and Undead. Which means people wanna’ smite the undead and demons… also because undead and demons are assholes, but still.”

“So, our affinities’ reputation will screw us over?”

“Or be our saving grace.”

“… What do you-” Understanding spread across my face. “Wait, we have the Holy affinity!”

Gravis let out a short bark of laughter. Seeing our looks, he turned serious, offering, “Both death and holy affinities? Surely you jest?”

“What is he talking about?”

Parallel Me just muttered, “Later.” Through one of the shamans ‘he’ started sifting through the chest. The goblin brought out a scroll, and threw it at me. After I caught it, Parallel Me said, “Examine it, then accept it.”

Examining it, a window popped up;

Class: Sorcerer - Novice

You may cast spells of levels 1 to 3, with their respective verbal chants.

Would you like to take on this class?

Yes

No

“How much did this cost?”

“Shut up and accept it!”

As soon as I did, the scroll fragmented into motes of light. Parallel Me threw another scroll my way. The window for this one read:

Tier 1, Holy Spell - Gentle Light

Let’s you project Holy Light that illuminates an area, resistant to anything that would dim it.

Would you like to learn this spell?

Yes

No

Once again, the scroll fragmented into motes of light after I accepted it. Looking up the chant I immediately tried it, chanting, “Under holy light’s glare, darkness shall no longer fare.” A glow spread out from my hand, lighting up the tunnel around us in proportion to my scream. I ended the spell and looked down at my cooking hand. I clutched it, blowing on it gently. “Ow, ow, ow.”

Gravis murmured, “Truly amazing, you can use Holy magic… as expected of my master.”

“I don’t think you’re as compatible with Holy Light as we would have hoped. The heavens did call us an abomination…”

“As expected of my master,” Gravis murmured again.

“I don’t think Holy Magic cooking me from the inside out is going to help my case.”

“Yeah, don’t accumulate any more damage, corpses don’t heal. Now, you would have to mess up really bad for people to suspect you. After all, you are using his corpse so they can’t fault your appearance and the ‘real’ one isn’t going to show up to blow your cover. Hopefully they will just assume you’re acting weird… but if they do mention possession, something closely associated with some types of undead and demons, a brief flash of that Holy light is all you need to shoot down their doubts. Regardless, this gives your stupid backup plan some hope, if finding a map fails.”

“So, I take it you’re on board?” I said, moving towards a Dwarf with intact clothing. I couldn’t very well use mine, they were covered blood and it had a very prominent hole.

“Yes, we’ll move with you, coming as close as we dare. If you are successful we’ll use whatever information or maps you can get to plan our way out of here. If you fail to get a map and sneaking through the city with our core isn’t feasible after all, then we’ll have to risk finding an exit through this old Dungeon’s ruins.”

“If I fail… won’t you also…?”

“Err… No.” Parallel Me explained slowly. “Your Core is your body. If it’s destroyed you die, if whatever that projection is ‘dies’ I imagine it’s just, really, really, really painful.”

I happily guessed, “So, even though doing this isn’t risking much on a practical level, you still objected out of concern. Aww, you’re going soft.”

“Hmm? Concern? What?”

“… Then why all the debating earlier?”

Parallel Me shrugged, “I honestly don’t really know… Habit? Spite? Amusement?”

“…”

“Hay,” Parallel Me called, “I was kidding. Stop walking away.”

***

It was hard to keep track of time in a windowless tunnel. I was just glad corpses don’t get tired, because if I had to guess, it had been hours. I had practiced a lot of Dwarven creatively cursing Parallel Me, who had stopped a while back, when we saw the faintest glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.

“Finally, I’m almost-” A slight stumble interrupted me. Steading myself I could feel the finish on the floor, or lack thereof, had changed. It was roughhewn from this point on. Grumbling I proceeded to climb the stairs, also roughhewn. I craned my head and raised my arms, meeting the trapdoor. This better not open up into a street. I strained my ears to listen. Nothing. I pushed ever so slightly, waiting for exclamations of surprise. But none came. I pushed it open further, enough for me to peer around. No shouts still so raised my head further. I saw a dimly lit room and stone walls. But no people. However, there was a bind sport, were the trapdoor was hinged. So, with all due caution I started ascending the stairs while trying to peer around the trapdoor. Soon I was looking out onto a street.

This was a dilapidated house, most of the surrounding walls didn’t even make it up to my shoulders (I was a Dwarf so a waist for a human). The only light came from a street lamp outside of the house. Stepping forward I could see that this whole street was filled with old, crumbling houses. In fact, the entire district seemed dead. This old man’s (I looked down to double check the colour of my beard- it was white) actions just got a whole lot shadier. What the hell was he up to? As I looked around, trying to figure out which way I should go, I noticed the ceiling. The one that covered the entire city. Rock- I already knew from The System Map that it was underground but it was still quite the site to see with my own eyes. I’m glad I’m not claustrophobic. I headed towards the brightest area in the distance I could see, cursing “More walking! Dam these stubby fuckn’ legs.”

***

I had been staring at them for few minutes now, debating. Despite the size of the city the population seemed rather low. I was worried that I would be recognised. Those Dwarves do belong to the same religion after all. Steeling myself, I walked out of the alleyway and towards the group of white robed Dwarves. I didn’t even get halfway before a Dwarf stopped me on the street and greeted me with a gesture I didn’t recognise, saying “Greetings Head Barthine.”

Crap. Caught off guard I quickly mimicked the gestured and said, “Greetings to you too.” Movement caught the corner of my eye. The group of white robed Dwarfs were excitedly moving towards me. One of them called out, “Barthine.”

Double crap.

“We’ve been looking for you everywhere. You’re going to miss the meeting.”

I don’t have time to attend a religious service!

But they were already surrounding me, shepherding me. All the way! Apparently, I had a lot to talk about. Is this a nightmare? Public speaking on a topic I know nothing about! How could this get any worse? They only stopped when we reached what I assume was our destination. An imposing building smack bang in the middle of the city. I clicked my tongue; this religion must have quite the status to have a church this big in the middle of it.

“Ah!” A white robed Dwarf called out upon seeing us. She was waiting outside the building. Visibly relaxing she said, “I thought you were going to be late for the first time in all your years of service.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I offered, trying to think of an excuse to leave. But she was already waiting beside me, eager to go inside. Knowing that walking away now would lead to questions I haven’t thought of good enough answers for yet, I headed in, subtly letting her take the lead so that I could follow.

“Don’t worry, you’ve been practicing your speech for ages. They’ll listen this time.” She encouraged. She was chatty, talking as we walked through magnificent halls and hallways. As mundane as the topics were, it was all information to me, so, I patiently listened. The most valuable thing I learnt was this was a meeting. Different from ‘meeting’. Dwarven language, remember? A quirk in translation, I was still a little rusty. What I would be attending, was, to my relief, a lot more private. It helped alleviate some of my nervousness. After stopping outside a door she turned around, saying, “It’s always nice talking to you Head Barthine, I don’t know what The Sanctified would do without you.”

“The Sanctified wouldn’t be the same without you too.” I said nodding, before trying to be confident as I walked into the room. It was sparsely furnished- a round table sat at the centre. Of the seven spots, four were occupied. Three available. Silence grew as glances were thrown in my direction. Would they care if I chose the ‘wrong’ spot? Is there a wrong spot? I chose one, thinking, I’ll just play the old man card if it comes to it. As I sat down there were one or two greetings in my direction, I simply nodded my head in return. No alarms raised. Quiet murmurs and hushed conversation resumed.

It wasn’t until two Dwarves came in and sat down a few minutes later that I thought I might get to know WHAT THE HELL was going on, but no. Idle chatter reigned. I did my best to listen in of course, I was here to spy but nothing interesting came up. That was, until, someone mentioned a smell. I’m not rotting already, am I? But soon one of the two late Dwarves spoke up, clearly unhappy, “Enough with the pleasantries. You all look like shit, spit it out.”

Another Dwarf rebuked, “Show some manners, Brodfram. The council meeting has only just started. There is nothing wrong with catching up with our peers.”

But Brodfram fired straight back, “We are in dire straits, manners are about as necessary as sugar on shit.”

“Sugar is arguably never more necessary than when it’s on shit,” Murmured one.

“The raids are only getting worse. They’re probing us, testing our strength. I’m sure of it.” Said a fourth Dwarf.

“What do we have to fear from some savages? I say we gather our armies and crush them.” Presented the one at odds with Brodfram.

The fourth only got angrier, “You fool! If it was that simple they wouldn’t have been a thorn in our side for so long- or even at all. With everything that’s happening it’s clear to me that these raiding parties of assorted monsters are doing so at the behest of a third party... or parties.”

“You’re just getting paranoid in your old age, Thradreac,” Came a sneered retort.

“All these monsters working together is normal to you, is it? These are wild monsters we’re talking about- not Dungeon monsters! And that’s not even mentioning that fact that all this activity is happening on the border with them, no less? Not finding that suspicious is almost as ridiculous as taking our armies out of the safety of the city to battle on the surface!” Thradreac said.

The timid one spoke out, “The Parvenu Empire have always coveted our lands.”

“What the hell for!” Brodfram exclaimed. I saw him taking a deep breath before-

ENOUGH!” A voice thundered. I turned around to look.

“Forgreth-” A Dwarf started.

“I SAID ENOUGH!” Eyes sweeping the room the intimidating Dwarf, Forgreth, solemnly spoke, “As the Head of this Council I am officially requesting your reports- from all of you. And I will not have you belittle this nation's crisis… crises.”

Council! A council meeting? …It just got worse.

A Dwarf was already up and talking, “Malake- Master of the Adventurer's Guild Union, reporting…”

They have an adventurer problem?

“Brodfram- Overseer of the Mines, reporting….”

They’re low on ore!?

“Thradreac- High Commander, reporting…”

I almost couldn’t sit still, thinking, they look so nervous. What the hell happened to ‘a formidable force’?

“Mufar- Head of the Merchant Union, reporting…”

For the first time that stern Dwarf couldn’t help but inquire for more details. It brought up rumours that were circulating, ones of war and hoarded wealth. The Dwarves didn’t like it one bit. They continued arguing amongst themselves. I was stewing over the rumours, eventually concluding from their previous reactions that they didn’t seem to be true.

I looked up as the final Dwarf spoke, “Akgrul- Head of Infrastructure, reporting…”

There was a brief pause before I remembered that I wasn’t a fly on the wall; I was a part of this council too. The last Dwarf was me. Chaos reigned in my mind. I scrambled to recall the format the others had used… and my name, that would be important. I stood up, “Barthine- Head of The Sanctified, reporting… All is well.” I sat back down. They all looked towards me, wide-eyed. I think I’d rather be shitting bricks right now.

Thankfully the bossy Dwarf appeared to not mind one less problem, saying, “In that case it is time to discuss our course of action. Firstly, trade with the Sayadance Kingdom. They are, essentially, our only trade partner- we cannot afford to lose them. Mufar, it is essential that you maintain friendly relations.”

As I relaxed in relief I almost forgot to listen to the following debate. It was an important one, one that finally made me realise, these aren’t the problems facing a Goliath. These weren’t the average hurdles a super power handles behind closed doors. No. These were the impending catastrophes facing a floundering nation. One on the brink of collapse. The Dwarves are weak.

***

I got out of there as soon as I could. A disciple of the Sanctified was guiding me, a ‘sleep deprived’ and ‘overworked old man’ home. My status probably did most of the persuading. I was agonising over what I had learnt. Not only were the Dwarves not a threat, they were desperate. It was an opportunity for me. They needed protection. I could create loyal monsters out of thin air. They needed food. I could create food out of thin air. They needed raw materials… I think I could create metals out of thin air, certainly metal golems could be farmed if need be…

Don’t get me wrong, there are problems. Firstly, communication- I can’t very well do it in the corpse of their dead comrade. I don’t think that a ghostly apparition will go down well either.

Secondly, negotiation skills- I don’t have any.

Thirdly, secrets- they don’t last. Assuming everything went well and we agreed to cooperate, eventually my existence would leak or suspicions would rise. This has an extra layer of risk for me given my mouth-watering value to all Dungeons and Heroes.

Lastly, it’s naive to believe that every Dwarf would be OK with cooperation, even if it was limited to the leaders- illuminati style- let alone the public as a whole… Speaking of conspiracies, Parallel Me did mention one… am I even ‘allowed’ to let them know Dungeons are self-aware. If I can’t it might be like declaring war on all Dungeons at once.

Well, I certainly shouldn’t do anything until I talk to Parallel Me about this potential opportunity. That reminds me, if the Dwarves are this weak, then what the hell has been clearing ‘the dead zone’ of Dungeons? As such thoughts brought up my own experience, I speculated, Are the left-over monsters from the old Dungeon just overwhelming any new Dungeon born in the ruins? That can’t be right, the dead zone is massive... Oh, another bloody problem to talk to Parallel Me about.

The disciple in front of me had stopped. I thanked him.

“It’s my honour.” He replied.

I walked forward towards the door. It was locked so I went through my pockets, remembering I had transferred a ring with numerous keys on it from Barthine’s robes to this one. I took it out and gingerly tried each and every one. The second to last didn’t resist the turn. Click.

I stepped into the house and looked around. Let’s find those maps… and hope they exist in the first place. I opened one door after another. I did a quick shakedown of each room. Not that hard considering that each of them was an exemplary example of minimalism, containing only what was practical. Soon I was at the door the last room in the back of the house. A cramped one filled with books, stacks of paper filled my sight. This is going to take forever! But I would assume it was here, even if this wasn’t the last room. A desk occupied a corner. One of the draws had a keyhole. Please! I hurriedly brought out the keys. Eventually, click. Elated, I opened the draw, but no maps- only tools. I flopped down into the desk chair. Where could they be? Looking around the room I saw lots of scrolls but no maps… The things in the draw looked like cartography tools. So where are the maps? There have got to be more, I’m sure. The abandoned district sprang to mind. His actions do appear pretty seedy. Could he have hidden them? But where? I looked around the room. Something caught my eye. Nooo… It can’t be. I stroked my beard. Well, there is no harm in trying. I stood up and leaned over the desk, reaching towards the painting above it. The only painting, or even decoration, in the whole house. I yanked, but only one side of it drew away from the wall. I laughed. What an unimaginative Dwarf. A safe was inset into the wall. No combination required, just a key.

I poured over the safes contents, a collection of maps and a pouch of valuables. The pouch went into my robe. As for the stack of maps, clearly, Barthine had conducted many expeditions into the old Dungeon. This was good news for me. I sighed in relief.

***

I scuttled from alleyway to alleyway, only getting lost twice. Catching sight of the abandoned district delighted me to no end. I hurried along the street, looking for the house. As I made my way into it, and lifted the trapdoor, I gazed in the direction of the city centre, thinking of the Dwarves plight. “Sorry,” I whispered, “But I can barely help myself…”

I made my way down the stairs then the tunnel, soon sprinting, eager to meet up with Parallel Me, for this gamble to finally be over. For it to pay off. They came into view. They were standing around waiting. I sighed with relief. It’s gonna’ be smooth sailing from here.

Parallel Me said, “Do you know how lucky you are?”

I recalled his dependent senses. “Skill played a part!” I replied, proud.

“Good, we really need to leave.”

“Hmm?” It was then I noticed a carcase in a pool of blood further down the tunnel. “What happened?” I asked.

“It looks like a scout from that pack of Minotaur’s.”

“Oh, fuck me!” I threw the bag down. “Are we going to have to deal with them the whole way there. Are we even a day old? Do we not even deserve a breather? Why bother at this point?”

Parallel Me locked his gaze with mine. His tone was serious, “Do you think that we have no chance?”

“It sure looks like it.”

“If I believed that I would have waited.”

“What?”

“We didn’t have to choose our spawn within a time limit. For crying out loud, we could have waited for a new damn island to form in the middle of the ocean.”

“That could have taken million-”

He moved closer to me, cutting me off, “And yet I saw an opportunity. I thought we had a real chance. And let me remind you, that was when I conservatively pegged our rating at legendary or mythical.” His face was inches from mine. “But. We. Are. Godlike.” He paused, and then quietly said, “Say it.”

“Huh?”

“Our rating. Say it!”

“…Godlike.”

“What does that sound like to you?”

“…”

“Let me tell you how it sounds, what it means! It means, WE. ARE. GOD-LIKE! The monsters we can purchase? Godlike! Monsters whose wrath can cow the heavens! The items we can purchase? Godlike! Items that can topple mountains and part seas! The options available to us? More than we could count in a life time!” Parallel Me knew me oh so well. He saved the best for last. “Will be able to warp some of our floors so that they are like the size of an entire kingdom! A Continent! A WORLD!”

“My own… worlds?!” Barthine’s corpse’s face twisted into an unsightly grin.