The Butcher of Gadobhra

The Fae Knight looked at the strange woman who had joined them. Only his eyes could be seen through his helmet, but they showed puzzlement. "We fixed it and made it better. Hollows are good. Poor, scared bunnykin and overworked ratkin can make a cozy place to live, make cheese, and other good things. Can Larry have the soup, too? With extra lentil beans? Larry likes lentil beans."

Wistyburble glared at him, but her gaze seemed to slide right off and not affect him at all. Not so the Squire, who became very still with wide, unblinking eyes as his mind raced and time slowed for him. He eyed the possible exits from the room, and decided that flight was a non-viable solution with the strange woman blocking their path.

The tavern keeper, realizing who the woman must be, stayed where she was, smiling and too aware of how many mortals and players were in her tavern. And she was very fond of her tavern. It would make her sad to have to rebuild it again. "Soup for everyone, then? My treat, of course. And anything else is on the house."

The tavern got quiet. Very, very quiet. Farmers and low-level players were tongue-tied and not moving, not knowing why they didn't dare move. The Thunderpunks' guildmembers were all present for a night of drinking. As the dread began to seep past the alcohol, they looked around, wondering where the threat was, and slowly dropped their eyes to the ground, hoping it passed over them. Only the three members of the Order of Heracles had the experience to know that a powerful creature had entered the room, her aura unrestrained. A halfling in Viking furs and a horned helmet slowly reached for a huge axe. Vandalis motioned for him to stop and looked at Eliza. The old seer was staring hard, with magic dancing in her eyes. He barely heard her whisper, "So hard to see. Three of those people are not what they seem to be. I see layers of Fae glamour on the Knight and the tavern keeper. Both hide something terrible and monstrous. The Squire is also not what he seems; he is a wizard in disguise with ancient runes dancing on his bones and an Engineer's spanner on his belt. I don't need my cards to know he falls under the sign of chaos. The last is barely trying to hide what she is: Dragon spawn and Dungeon Lord. What sort of strange place have you led us into, Vandalis?"

Vandalis rose from his seat carefully and kept his voice low. "Someplace fun. This is just what the Order needs: Things we don't understand and can't easily best. You and Giantmuncher clear the room, and I will pay my respects." Eliza and the halfling nodded. Vandal had good instincts, which is why they had elected him to lead the Order for another decade, his 17th consecutive term.

Vandalis approached the table and bowed as he'd learned in the Draconic Court of King Afterburner the Mad, bending low and touching his forehead to the floor until Wistyburble slightly moved one hand in acknowledgment. Then, he bowed normally to Suzette and saluted the Knight. "Forgive my rude intrusion. With your permission, I was hoping to take this party of fragile patrons from this fine establishment and out to the town square to give you some privacy in which to enjoy your soup."

Wistyburble seemed to notice the terrified patrons for the first time, many of whom she recognized as recent visitors to her dungeon. "That would be best, thank you. It's too easy to break such fragile things. But you seem strong, handsome, and adventurous. You simply must come to visit me someday, officially, if you can. Bring many friends, or if some are scared, I'll arrange an adventure for a smaller party."

Vandal smiled broadly, "Oh, you can count on us to show up in force. We live for new experiences." He bowed low to her again and took his leave.

Suzette was thankful for his help. Ozzy had told her about his group of dungeon delvers, but she hadn't had time to get to know them. "Feel free to raid the bar and take all the beer and wine with you."

Giantmuncher immediately headed out the door with one beer keg in each arm and another balanced on his head. Zephyr and her father handed everyone else bottles and full mugs, took some for themselves, and left as well. Within two minutes, the room was empty except for four people.

Squire Squeak addressed Suzette politely, "Is there tea, please? And yes, I would like some soup and some bread. Along with a small slice of cheese, that counts as a delicious dinner, does it not?"

Wistyburble looked at the three of them. "Yes, I suppose we can enjoy a delicious dinner. After all, it might be the last you ever eat if I don't like your answers to my questions."

The tavern keeper returned with large loaves of bread for each person and bowls of vegetable soup. A large wheel of aged cheddar cheese was placed on a side table and cut into thin slices for dessert, along with mugs of tea and a second pot warming by the hearth. As they started eating, Suzette felt fear give way to curiosity.

"I, for one, would love to hear the story of how this happened. I gave you the standard quests I give everyone. I'm making the assumption that the Lord of the Dungeon didn't call for any changes?"

Wistyburble looked at the Knight and Squire as she picked out a large carrot from her soup and chopped it in half with dainty, sharp teeth that could have cut through steel just as easily. "I did not. I received a rude notification of changing quests and a Hollow stealing part of my dungeon. I did not give permission for such to happen and judge it to be an assault upon my realm. I'm sure a Knight of the Fae understands that such affronts must be taken seriously."

"So I thought. I got the same message. It's easy to assume that the people causing the change are these two, but..."

The knight spoke out, "Larry thinks quests were silly. Everyone knows where the dungeon is." He pointed to a sign above the stairs that said, 'To Dungeons,' that is a silly sign."

The Squire interrupted quickly as Wistyburble scowled, "But I'm sure both of you know that it isn't that simple. The interactions between people in this world and the system can inspire the Engine to instigate changes that will create interesting events. Sir Larry has a strong will and may have influenced things, but it's not entirely our fault, and certainly no insult was intended. Both Sir Larry and I are very sorry if we upset either of you."

Wistyburble looked at him. There was something so familiar about these two. She longed to look beneath their glamours, but as she had said to them, some things could be taken as an insult. She recognized the armor he wore, and decided against peeking. "You know about the Engine?"

The Squire placed a large, scuffed golden spanner on the table, the inscribed dwarven runes easily visible. "I'm a Senior Deep Rock Engineer; of course, I know about the Engine. What I don't know is how Sir Larry managed to get its attention. I'm sure the Engine has a good reason for doing this." He nudged his partner, who was taking small nibbles of his cheese through the hole in the faceplate of his rabbit-shaped helmet.

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"It was easy. Roquefort was tired of the quest and missing home, and the rat-kin didn't like getting killed by players all the time. Everyone knows where the dungeons are, so Larry told them to go home and not worry about silly quests. Then Larry got a quest to save the haunted bunny village from yucky undead, so we went there. Larry kicked the sneaky bad guy through a wall, and Squire Squeak brought out his book on how to make Hollows run right. Hollows are like villages and hamlets, only better, with puff cakes and dancing. The bunnykin people liked the idea, but we had to get permission from the Necromancer. Larry caught him easy-peasy after Squire Squeak made his bone bunnies go away. He likes the idea, too! He didn't like Larry's pickle idea. No one likes pickles. Then we all did the Happy Hamster Hop together, and that was when the quest updated that we could make a hollow if the Dungeon Lord and Dungeon Keeper agreed. And here you are. Larry thinks this is a good thing."

The Fae Knight looked longingly at the cheese. Squire Squeak shrugged. "Might as well have a couple of slices and hand me some while you're up." The Squire was looking more and more like a man resigned to having his last meal before the firing squad showed up.

Suzette asked Her Majesty a question, "Is there a problem with creating a village for the people in the dungeons?"

The Dungeon Lord considered the problem and how much to divulge. "It is a problem of balance, power, prestige, and budgeting. Dungeons require certain things to grow with the system's blessing. I must craft challenges for the players and provide rewards when they are victorious. I gain some measure of power when one of them perishes, but not enough, on average, to pay for my losses. Only when they foolishly die with little effort expended by me does the dungeon grow towards overload.

The dungeons in Gadobhra benefit from the wellspring of dark mana coming from deep in the earth while I subsist on the crumbs. I wish to grow my dungeon and my prestige, but this change might cost me dearly. Powerful players are now coming to this town. While I can deal with the likes of the charming Vandalis on his own, a raid by the Order of Heracles could be beyond me. I refuse to be 'farmed' like some weakling underboss and forced to give up my prestige, my power, and my treasures. I would rather empty my dungeon in one catastrophic strike against this town and be remembered for my power than be forced into servitude. If I am going down, Dungeon Keeper, you will go with me." She smiled, and now her teeth were serrated, and her eyes were larger and glowing. Scales appeared on her skin, armoring her, and large draconic wings sprouted from her back.

Suzette stepped backward and changed as well. She grew a foot taller, and her skin paled to white. Silvery armor enveloped her, and a staff appeared in her hands. In an icy voice, she said, "I don't go down easy, not in my tavern, not in my lands. And my Butcher has a recipe that calls for dragon meat."

There was a clanking sound as Squire Squeak pulled a Dwarven Chain Gun from somewhere, holding it with clawed hand. Boney plates sprouted from his skin, enveloping him in armor and a long armored tail sprouted from his back. He looked from one woman to the other and said, "Larry...?"

The Fae Knight casually reached for another piece of cheese with a long arm and didn't move from his seat or react at all. "You are silly people. And everyone is smarter than Larry. If Larry knows the answer, you do, too. Is there any soup left?"

Squire Squeak looked at Larry and thought for a moment. "Make a better dungeon?"

Larry nodded. "Make a better dungeon for pretty Bunny Dragon Lady and Silvery Countess Lady. Squire Squeak has made dungeons before."

Squire Squeak was regretting telling Larry about 'making a dungeon.' "That was for a game, Larry, not like...well...hmm...OK, maybe I have some ideas. Better traps? Redesign the levels to split up raids? Ambushes and two-hour-long, multi-part boss encounters? I'd need to do research and look into the power problem." He absent-mindedly set aside the chain gun and started writing in a large notebook with a mechanical pencil.

Wistyburble looked at her Dungeon Keeper, noting that she had become much more powerful since they first began corresponding. This pleased her. A strong Dungeon Keeper was a key to a strong dungeon. She sat back down and turned to Sir Larry. "You place much trust in your squire." She looked to where the young human was scribbling quickly, creating a new page of notes every few seconds. She could see that he was in disguise but wasn't curious enough to turn her gaze upon him full and disturb his work.

Sir Larry looked at Squire Squeak and then back to Wistyburble. "Larry trusts Squire Squeak. He is Larry's best friend."

She observed the two of them for a few minutes and finished her soup. Suzette shrugged and was once again a simple tavern keeper. She refreshed everyone's tea and cleared the plates.

The Dungeon Lord stood up. "Then I suppose I can give you a little time. Come visit me when you have your plans ready and in no more than three days. Until then my dungeon is closed to outsiders. I'll use the time to file my nails, darn a few socks, and marshal my forces for an invasion. It was lovely seeing you, Countess Suzette, we must do this again some time." Then she turned and walked to her dungeon.

Squire Squeak spent an hour writing, then seemed to wake up. The bread and cheese were gone, and the tea was cold. "I need a break for a little bit, and then I'll want to investigate the leaking mana in the big city, your sewers, and map out the local power nodes."

The Knight stood up. "We can do that, but we need to find more quests. Questing is fun."

Suzette wasn't taking chances with these two doing another quest in her town. "Why don't you head up to the Legion Keep on the hill? There are quests to kill a wolfpack and keep sneaky evil players from interfering with the construction. You can even do the player quest over and over, as many times as you can find the sneaky evil players who are up to no good."

That was enough for the Knight, who took off skipping and hopping along the road. "Quick, brave Squire! We must investigate nasty big city and sewers so we can do more questing!"

Squire Squeak took out a scroll and a brush and crossed out two items on his list.

Tea with a Black Dragon

Delicious Dinner with a Dungeon Lord

Then ran to catch up.

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