Dungeon Status:

Tier 1

Level 4/10

Heart 25600/ 25600

Experience 2500/6400

Workers 9/23

Monsters 0/25

Traps 27/49

Rooms 46

Food 378

Timber 1168

Iron 404

Steel 30

Charcoal 0

Mana 9

Rock 2539

Gold 450

Leather 492

Leather Sludge 300

Lava 41

Glass 800

Explosive Runes 10

Triggered Explosive Runes 0

Triggered Explosive Runes (repeating) 4

Quest: Have 10 minions in your dungeon

Quest: Get 10,000 gold

Travis wished he could spend time with Brayden, but the best he could do was let him be while the dungeon was repaired. The most important bit had been to fill the gap Penelope had made that broke the maze—that had just taken one kobold (Ludmiller) to fix.

Next was to divert two legs of the twisting tunnels to the new mana shrine. That wouldn't take long, but it was important to isolate the last slime away in a room it couldn't escape. Robert and Steph had both gone to work on that.

Filling in the cave was Penelope's job, with Blake assisting. It wasn't a glamorous job, but it was important to get things squared back down to tunnels so nothing new would have annoyingly large staging areas.

Katelyn spent the time the rest were working setting out the runes again. The explosive ones in the pit, the repeating ones in the short tunnels after it, and then she set out the last four repeating ones in the second-floor twisting tunnels.

It was Katelyn to whom Travis spent the most time talking. "What are we going to do once the runes aren't as effective? Even those zombies seemed to shrug off one or two of them."

"There are higher ranked runes. Runes to do other things, too. I can try experimenting with them. Explosives are just—I synergize more with fire and explosions now. Robert's been working on the sludge traps' stuff and he has something that will work on anything that walks into it." She pressed a new rune into the stone wall just after the mana shrine. "I wanted to look at that slime, too."

"Is it really stuck in there, or is it just content with the mana shrine feeding it?" Travis asked.

"That's something I want to know too, Trav." Katelyn set down the second and third runes, then when she was finally done with the fourth she stood up and turned in the direction that led to the mana shrine. "I'm short-cutting, Trav, because I hate this tunnel."

"I don't blame you. If everyone hates going through this tunnel—that means it's working, right?"

Katelyn just laughed, melting her way through rock (increasing the dungeon's lava supply) and using their reserves to fill-in behind her. When she was finally in the tunnel leading to the mana shrine, which the other work crews had already dug, she slowed and took her time. "I can barely see it with normal vision."

"I see exactly what you see, and you're right. It's like clear glass." Travis noticed, after Katelyn did something with her magic, that the slime started glowing a brilliant white. "Wow, what happened?"

"Magic-sight. Normally you use it to trace patterns someone has drawn with magic. In this case I think it's because that slime is literally entirely mana." Walking right up to the entryway of the room, Katelyn paused before she got too close for comfort. "If you lit the entry here with dim lighting, the glow of the mana wouldn't make it so obvious. I think most adventurers would just walk right into it."

"That's the idea. I'm reminded that I need to get a lizard farm. I think we might build it on the top floor. Maybe a hidden door at the end of the maze?" Travis was mostly just musing, trying to get Katelyn's thoughts on it.

"Well, they can get past the sludge traps. They won't be able to get past this guy." Katelyn jerked her thumb at the slime. "Maybe we should have put him leading up to the last part before the sludge traps?"

"Yeah, I could do that. Just make them walk one last loop around all the twists and then come into the sludge traps." As he was thinking it, Travis was already sketching the design out with his planning mode. "Okay, setting that up for someone to dig."

Sitting alone in the dark was never quite so nerve-wracking before—not that it was actually dark for Brayden Smith, Priest of Brogdar Evil Slayer. Kobold vision, he'd found, shoved back darkness around him and let him see the rock, the bed, and even his own holy symbol.

Speaking wasn't required for communing with his god, not for a good many years. In every day he'd set aside time for silent prayers to his god, and though he didn't expect it, Brogdar reached down—through immense layers of rock and dirt—and found his priest sitting in the dark in a form not his own.

Brayden was suddenly on a battlefield. Around him, demons and devils fought with angels of war. He faced off not with something evil, but his god.

Brogdar was an immense being, but to spar with a kobold he'd had to squeeze himself down to a tiny manifestation. Shield met mace, blade deflected from bracer, and the pair entered combat.

It was an old method that Brayden's god had communed with him. His heart sang in joy as their weapons clashed and his blood pumped.

What was strange and new was Brayden's body. It moved mostly how he had as a human, but there were some actions—like swinging his arms around to the side—that he couldn't do. He did manage to catch his god off-balance at one point by lashing out with his new claws—of course that earned him a shield bashing against his hand that left his fingers numb for a few moments.

The one thing of Brayden's that wasn't different, though, was his faith. He sheathed his mace with angry light and felt the familiar fire of devotion rise like an inferno inside him. If there was one thing that would give him the courage to go on, it was seeing his god's dedication to reaffirming their bond.

At last, though, Brayden could feel his time approaching. He would wake, soon, and that meant he had to, "Yield!" He took a step back from Brogdar, dropping to a knee and bowing his head until he couldn't see the weapon and shield raised against him.

"Rise, Brayden Smith, priest and warrior. I would have none of my followers bend their knee—even to me."

Standing up from a kneel usually took a little work, as it was meant to. Kneeling was supposed to put you at a disadvantage, but Brayden found the way his leg bent now meant it was as easy as rising from a crouch. "Thank you. I—"

"You put your life in the hands of fate to protect your friends. Now you will be working for another but—but even this strange being and its minions carry much good within them. Work with them, Brayden Smith. Share my name and my teachings, bring light to their dark home. Protect them from the darkness and evil that has threatened the world since time began."

Brayden jerked awake. The room around him wasn't dark, and it wasn't just his new vision that allowed him to see. Red light glowed from his body—from his hand—and lit the room with the holy light of his god.

The glow was another reminder that Brogdar hadn't forgotten him. Standing up, he looked to the side where what remained of his armor sat. The chainmail was ruined. His buckler that'd been in his off-hand was gone—eaten by the slime. He found his weapon still intact, along with the three-quarters melted talisman. "Stupid bloody th—"

Brayden's eyes widened as he realized he could talk clearly and concisely. "Thank you again, Brogdar." It might be a mild blessing, but it would let him speak of his god's acceptance of not just the kobolds but the dungeon itself. "Travis?"

"Oh, you're awake? Wait, you can talk?!" Travis was incredulous. "How?"

"Not everything can be stolen by death and a change in species. I wasn't exactly asleep—I was communing with Brogdar, my god.

"He reminded me of my purpose and my oaths, and he also assured me that he holds no ill will toward you. My task now, it seems, is to extend his protection to all in the dungeon—even yourself." Hefting his mace to his shoulder, Brayden was surprised to find it resized to him specifically. "I believe Jack and I need to travel to Northridge to collect Fife. I'll be seeing you again shortly."

Travis wasn't sure exactly how to take that. He hadn't encountered any gods in the world, hadn't even felt the presence of one. As his mind roamed over the thoughts, he realized he was wrong. Just now Brayden had never tried a single syllable as a kobold and yet he spoke perfectly. That the mace the warrior priest was holding seemed to have changed size too was weird.

Walking past the pink glow of Travis' heart, Brayden was reminded of what had been done for him. He was a literal dead man walking. His luck had run out and he'd been drowning in the slime that had been consuming him. "Thanks, Trav." He reached out and pressed his hand to the heart, his thoughts reaching for a blessing of strength and letting Brogdar make it so.

"What—?" Travis felt a rush of vitality pour through himself and the dungeon. A glance to his mana showed it as full, and even felt his vision sharpen throughout the dungeon as more lizards just seemed to appear. "Th-Thanks."

"It is a small repayment for the new life you gave me, Trav. Expect more." It was the most bullshit Brayden had ever spun in his life. He walked from the heart room and down the hallways—arm sheathed in red light—taking the turns as they came and soon left the inner part of the lower dungeon through a hole in the wall. He followed the tunnel along, knowing instinctively where the stairs were, and ascended.

What surprised him was how motivated and industrious the kobolds felt. He could hear echoes of Travis' voice discussing matters with them, asking for input and giving his own. He hadn't realized how much the dungeon was a product of those working in it and not Travis before.

Jack was in the bar, sitting behind it and pouring himself the odd drink of glacial water. When a kobold walked in with a mace and a glowing right hand, he felt more presence enter the room than just his old friend. It had been a worry—that Brayden would be saved but his god would abandon him—none of that seemed to be the case, however. "A drink?"

"One for the road. Is that water? I'll have that." Brayden walked to the counter and had to jump to get on a stool. The water, when he downed it, tasted fantastic. "Fife wimped out?"

"I wouldn't say that. The priest in town will have words about turning up in so many pieces and, probably, melting his altar." Swigging his water down, Jack felt the cool fluid spread through his system in moments. "This is wonderful stuff. Shall we go and find our errant ablative fighter?"

Pausing a moment, Brayden cursed. "Gold. The priest will want gold."

"Reach behind your back," Travis told Brayden. "Feel the neck of a bag I put there? Now pull it back around."

It amazed Brayden to see. When he opened the neck of the bag, he saw it was full of gold coins. "Thank you, Travis. I will see this reaches the priest."

"Buy some armor too. Get something good. A shield—Ugh, listen to me. Just get what you need." By the end of it Travis was practically rolling his eyes at how he was armor-splaining to someone who knew a lot more than he did.

"Of course." Heading out with his gold, his mace, and his friend, Brayden felt a slight chill pass over him the moment he left the dungeon. "Brogdar, give me strength." The little prayer did just what he needed. The fear of exposure and being away from safety sloughed off him.

When Fife saw Brayden and Jack, she smiled at them. She'd been waiting out the front of Rupert's temple, just leaning against the wall. "New gear? Trav treating you well?" She was wearing a borrowed shirt and trousers herself, though the one thing that'd survived the slime was the pistol she wore at her hip.

"Yeah, you'll be needing some too. Let me pay the priest first." Brayden stepped to the doorway and spoke a soft prayer to Brogdar and then to "the power watching over the temple" before he entered. The holy statue, a giant set of scales, took on a glimmer of energy. Brayden knew well that Brogdar was content to pay reverence to the scales. "Priest! I have come to pay debt."

"Ah, walker of dark paths to restore balance, be welcome." Brother Rupert gave Brayden a nod of his head. "Debts paid forge alliances stronger than steel."

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This story is released under the Creative Commons BY-NC-SA license. If you are paying money to see this or the original creator, Damaged, is not credited, you are viewing a plagiarized copy of the story.