Using his time wisely, The Mentor continued to float about the dungeon of this lackadaisical keeper, his findings helping him determine the full extent of Belial’s performance as a keeper. Thankfully, the man hadn’t yet realized that the spirit had entered his lands as nothing had even attempted to bar his way so far. Either the man was so assured in his importance that he could ignore the threat that the spirit posed or his forces were truly inept at defense.
It was nearly unbelievable to think that this useless sod had been a successful dungeon keeper so long. However, it would seem that laziness and greed had overtaken him and his personal forces. Belial had a lot of gold, but hadn’t actually built anything of importance yet. There were only some lairs for his minions to rest, a feasting hall for them to eat, a library that had been converted into a storage room for the dirty secrets of the world above and below, and treasuries.
A lot of treasuries.
From what the ghost had witnessed, it would appear that this keeper was far more interested in the comings and goings of the informants in his spy network and using his imps to mine yet more gold. At this point, there was one thing the spirit couldn’t deny. The man was loaded. “He’s either saving up gold to convert it to mana for powerful spells like my protégé or he just has an addiction to the shiny stuff... also, sadly, like my protégé...” the ghost thought in annoyance. Yes, the gem vein her imps discovered was both a dark blessing and a curse.
Banishing such thoughts from his mind, the ghost continued his trek in a Northern direction. He was both surprised and pleased to see that a lake of bubbling fire had already risen up from underground. Evidently, the forces of evil already had a firm grip on this territory as the dark gods had begun their terraforming of this land in preparation to blot out the sun. Sadly, it was only a lava pit. In signing a truce with the kingdom above, Keeper Belial effectively stymied the dark gods’ progress, preferring safety and comfort over transforming the land in the dark gods’ image and spreading evil and darkness.
Truly, the apparition almost expected the dark gods to grant his apprentice a boon to aid in ousting this farce. It was one thing to lose the favor of the dark gods... it was another to deny them what was theirs by right. If she didn’t get any help prior, then it was likely a reward awaited her if she succeeded.
Continuing his surveillance tour, The Mentor could feel a tickle at the edge of his senses. He continued along northern direction, heading over the lake of glowing molten rock and over to side of the lava chamber opposite to the entrance. “Ah... a secret door...” the ghost chuckled as he merely floated through. As with most magical constructs, their presence was like a beacon to the former keeper. “Let’s see what Belial is hiding...”
Floating on through the illusionary entrance, the advisor to Keeper Cheetah was surprised to find himself in a prison. An old one at that too, taking into consideration how dusty and dark it was in there. Despite that, this wasn’t an unoccupied holding area. This prison held two skeletons, both of which were chomping at the bit to be released from their cells and...
A Bile Demon.
Bile demons were big. Big, bloated, and had a love for stinking out a keeper’s dungeon. Their main method of attack was as unconventional as it was disgusting. They may have been one of the most powerful minions, but The Mentor’s protégé already had a horned reaper! With a warrior of the gods far superior to this one already in the werecat’s emply, The Mentor almost left right away...
Until a glint of gold from the sleeping demon’s cell caught his attention.
The ghost floated over, getting a better look. This one was unlike other bile demons, his skin a brick red instead of the traditional roasted-red pigment. His horns were also nearly black as they had a transitioning effect going on, growing darker in color from ivory to ebony the further they grew out from his head. In addition, the flails hanging from said horns were solid gold rather than iron. So was his nose-ring for that matter.
The ghost had a good idea of what he was looking at. Floating right before the cell bars, the spirit called out, “Bloz! Bloz, wake up!”
It was when the demon’s eyes fluttered opened and revealed themselves to be blood-orange in color rather than ebony that the ghost got his answer. This wasn’t just a bile demon. This was THE Elite bile demon. If Horniculus had been Underlord Dis’ right hand, Bloz served as the left. Whereas Dis looked to the horned reaper to crush his enemies, it was a bile demon who’s skilled hands created the masterwork traps and fixtures that a adorned the Underlord’s dungeon. Truly, there was no greater–or at as least efficient–an underworld craftsman than Bloz.
Even better, when push came to shove, Bloz wasn’t afraid to enter the fray. More importantly, unlike the majority of bile demons who depended on their infernal intestines the spread colonic carnage and shitty savagery, the Elite preferred a more up-close-and-personal approach such as cracking some skulls open with his massive fists. Why, he was the minion who created the art of, ‘dwarf chucking’ for crying out loud! The Mentor was certain his protégé would be willing to put up with a little smell compared to the odious stench of regular bile demons, especially in return for the skills Bloz would bring to the table.
Said bile demon continued to blink his eyes. Damn. He’d been having such a nice dream too: memories of victories of Dis that had long since passed. And yet, even coming back to the land of the living, his past still haunted him; a familiar visage filling his gaze.
It took a few moments for the infernal warrior-crafter to realize that he wasn’t just seeing things. Pushing himself up to a standing position, the demon queried, “Mentor? Mentor, is that you?”
Nodding his head, the ghost was quick to reply, “It’s me all right.” Although the spirit didn’t have eyes, per se, it was obvious that he was glaring down at the bile demon. “Good dark gods, man! What happened to you? I haven’t seen or heard from you since the Underlord fell, and now I find you the prisoner of a cowardly half-assed keeper! What happened to you? Don’t you have any pride!?”
Despite his massive girth, the demon was on his face and quickly up against the bar. “Easy for you to be so sanctimonious when you’re on that side of the bars, you prick!” he snarled, his eyes glowing with a hellish light. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through since the kingdoms banded together to kill Dis in revenge for slaughtering the Avatar!?”
“No,” was The Mentor’s flippant reply. “I just said that I hadn’t heard from you since.” It’s not that he hated the Elite bile demon... it’s just he remembered how lazy and slothful he could be. You had to stoke the proverbial fires to get him going. Why, just look how active Bloz already was when he pushed the right buttons.
The bile demon snorted, not to dissimilar from how a bull would–especially with that nose ring in place. “You want to know? I’ll tell you: I couldn’t find work! I was the famed Head Forger of Dis, that should have counted for something! But no! Upon hearing that, all the other keepers could see was the money my pay would drain from their treasuries or that I was bad luck. Everyone is impressed and hold’s Dis’ legacy in highest regard, but we who HAD served him directly, were considered an ill-omen. It took two bloody centuries for me to find someone willing to hire me!”
“Let me guess...” the spirit drawled out. “Keeper Belial.”
“Unfortunately...” the obese underworld grimaced. “It wasn’t so bad in the beginning. The man had dream, and I mean big dreams! He wanted to become the next Underlord! It was because I had been the, ‘Left Hand of Dis’ that he hired me. He needed to add a measure of legitimacy to his claim and having me as one of his generals went far.”
Despite the overall lack of facial features, it was obvious that the spirit had raised an eyebrow. “One of his generals, huh? You’ve gone quite a way from being one of his most trust to sleeping in a prison. I take it there was a falling out?”
Again, the infernal fatass snorted. “I served as Keeper Belial’s personal advisor. I knew Dis’ tactics and strategies. Unlike Horny who was, ‘slaughter first, slaughter second, and ask questions should anything survive’ I actually paid dark gods blessed attention!” He snapped irritably. “It was thanks to my guidance that Belial brought Lushmeadow on Down to its knees in record time! Down to its knees!! He was in the perfect position to continue Dis conquest like he always spoke and ranted about!”
“And then the kingdom topside offered terms of surrender and armistice. The keeper decided that with such submission that it was simply easier to rest on his laurels in comfort than continue onward,” The Mentor went on to surmise. “That much I know about–word did spread across the underworld as he became a benefactor for both the underdark and our enemies above ground.” He then chuckled darkly. “Didn’t take much for Belial to give up his grand ambitions, now did it? A dungeon safely situated underneath a kingdom and the secrets to ruin anyone who would dare threaten his easy living.”
Releasing a groan of frustration, Bloz merely nodded his head. “You got it. Some of us tried to coerce and inspire the man to continue onward but after a decade, it became apparent that our crusade to destroy the light was but a fantasy. The topsiders may have surrendered but so did he. Belial became a keeper in name only, squandering his powers for miniscule things. Most of the fighters left after the first ten years... salamanders, dark mistresses, demon spawn... their blood lust could not be sated with training rooms alone. They needed action, lest their skills dull and rust beyond salvage. Me? I foolishly stayed another decade. It was me who had made him so successful in the first place, I figured I could wear him down eventually...”
“I take it that is why you end up imprisoned?” the ghost surmised.
“Fuck no!” the demonic entity snapped. “I was able to keep myself busy in the interim with distractions. Training, researching, building... I mostly kept working on the dungeon itself, making it into a work of art like I had for Dis...” he frowned. “And then the little turd betrayed me. He started to sell off ‘non-essentials’ as they were a drain on his gold and mana that he felt weren’t ‘justified’.” He held his hands up, making quotation marks in the air as he said that last bit. “He sold off the training room and my workshop and then he had the gall to turn my library into a dark gods blessed room-wide filing cabinet! All my books were replaced with papers of people and places! That was the last straw and I was ready to abandon Belial’s sorry ass. I didn’t care how long it would take me to find work again, I’d had it with the pathetic shit!”
The Mentor could see where this was going. “And I take it he disagreed when it came to the termination of terms of service?”
Nodding his head, the bile demon replied, “Got it in one. Even if it was centuries passed, was still one of the Underlord’s main minions and the keeper refused to allow me to leave. I had become a status symbol of sorts to him, and he wasn’t about to have anyone else hire me on... especially since he feared what I could do to him with the insider information I had!” Blotz smirked most evilly. “Probably would have too, considering how pissed I was after I had to fight my way to the Portal Gem... would have made it too, if Belial hadn’t captured me in his Hand of Evil. Dropped me in a cell and I’ve been here since: nearly three hundred years! He drops a chicken every day but you know me and my kind! I need far more sustenance than that to keep up my strength. Asshole does it on purpose to keep me alive but too weak to escape.”
Nodding his head in acceptance, the spirit offered, “And if I could free you?”
The demonic craftsman gripped the bars of his cell tightly. “Free me, and I’ll do anything you want. I’m desperate at this point.” He snorted. “A moot point though, considering you’re intangible with this plane of existence.”
“That I am,” the apparition of advisement admitted. However, his facial structures changed to give the impression of a smile. “However, my apprentice can... and I intend to bring her down upon Belial like a hammer to an anvil. If we free you, would you swear your fealty to her? She is quite...” he paused, considering how to say this. “She’s quite unique amongst keepers. More importantly, she could use someone of your skill in her service.”
His head raised up to look at the floating ghost, the bild demon replied, “Normally I’m not too keen on female keepers–they tend to be too focused on hygiene, you see.” He took a deep breath. “But at this point, I’d accept a deal with the Archangel himself! Just get me the heaven out of here and you got yourself a new Head for your Workshop!”
“Great, I’ll—”
The Mentor stopped suddenly, his whole form shimmering as a sensation of alarm began ringing in the back of his consciousness. He was attuned to Cheetah’s Dungeon Heart and everything that came with it. And in that moment, he could feel enemies intruding on the dungeon.
“HEY!” Blotz shouted as he gazed at the retreating form of the ghost, his eyes blazing with desperation as his first chance for escape fled. “WHERE ARE YOU GOING!?”
Seeing her friend twitching in irritation as the troll pretty much ‘trolled’ her as was his species’ namesake, the gaoblin tried her best to make it seem less trickery and more capitalism. If she didn’t, she got the feeling that the werecheetah was going to fry him. “Seems to me everything costs a good ten-thousand,” Crescens pointed out in a business-like fashion.
Even as she nodded her head in agreement, Britanny was twitching with irritability. “It really does... minus the original cost of the torture room and the prison...” she eyed the troll menacingly. “You got anything that’s NOT ten-thousand gold?”
Smirking, the troll placed his hands on the counter and leaned forward, meeting the woman’s gaze with his own. “My dear Keeper, I thought you said paying wasn’t a problem?”
Even as the vendor got in her face, the werecat keeper didn’t back down... no matter how much she wanted to as it became apparent this guy invested less in mouthwash than he did toothpaste. “It’s not,” the werecheetah said firmly. Crossing her arms under her breasts, she returned the stare, her feline eyes gazing into his dark, heavy-sunken ones. “I just get the feeling you’re just trying to price-gouge despite how you keep telling me it’s a deal.”
“Well...” The Bouldarr began slowly. “If you want, we can go over other things I have available...” he smirked, as he could already hear the jingle of coins in his register. “Like traps and barriers. The schematics for those things cost considerably less. Any sort you’re after?”
Nodding her head, Britanny replied, “The best.”
“Right-o!” the muscled mass of troll chuckled. “When it comes to your dungeon’s immediate defenses, you’re gonna want to look into three specific doors! There are Steel, Magic and my personal favorite, Secret!” He licked his lips again, tongue flicking the tip of his nose. “Now the steel door is, for most intents and purposes, the ideal door you can buy for dungeon defense. It’s physically the most durable, taking a lot of time to break through. Bear in mind, though, that it also takes a lot of time to have your minions manufacture. It is fairly strong against all forms of damage and will stand long enough for you to gather the appropriate greeting parties for any intruders on your side of it.”
“If Horny can bring himself to wait that long...” Cheetah groused.
“NOPE!” said Reaper chimed in from outside the establishment. “No, I cannot! I’ll just open and walk through, slaughtering all that get in my way. That will teach the Kingdom of Avonalon what happens when they come calling!”
Ignoring the boisterous interruption, the troll continued. “Then there’s the magic door,” a grin of delight came to the solid underdweller’s face. “This work of art is tougher obstacle than any other door that can be manufactured thanks to the fireballs that launch from its surface when it’s under attack.” His smirk became absolutely devious. “You see, a magic door is impervious to physical damage, and I mean completely immune! Punch it, slash it, club it, ram it... as the name suggests, it’s magically reinforced. It can’t be broken through that way...” he frowned. “However, it is susceptible to magic spells, particularly Lightning. Still, it has to ability to harass any would-be attackers in return with fireballs, adding a new level of both defense AND offense to your dungeon.”
Nodding her head, the spotted blonde had to admit, “That... that’s actually pretty useful.” She smirked. It really would be. Until she could hire more Minions, she’d at least have something in the way to defend her interests that would really drive the point home... and with fire no less!
“And finally,” the vendor cooed. “Is the secret door. Disguised to resemble a normal wall, it blends seamlessly with its surroundings.” He shifted his weight on the counter. “To your enemies, the secret door appears as just another stretch of wall, while your minions can see and use it for what it really is. This property makes secret doors very useful for hiding important rooms and areas from your enemies, such as Portal Gems, your Dungeon Heart, as well as large treasuries or gem seams you’re mining.”
“Hmm... secret doors, huh?” the lycan dungeon keeper murmured as she considered such. It would be... interesting, to say the least. Although she might want to stack up all three when it came to her gem seam. Ain’t NO ONE Was getting to her source of cash without a fight!
“Mistress!” Ayane chirruped. “Can my torture chamber have a secret door to it?”
Sighing, the spotted blonde nodded her head. “Yes, yes...” Britanny replied. “Although I don’t think that will keep anyone out if they know about it...”
The raven-haired woman smirked. “Who said anything about keeping them OUT?” She wanted to give her prisoners no hope of escape!
To that, Cheetah twitched slightly. “Okay... whatever...” deciding she really didn’t want to know, she turned her attention back to the troll. “And how much is THAT gonna run me?” she eyed the larger man, as if daring him to say, ‘ten-thousand’...
Surprisingly, he didn’t. “Eight-thousand, six-thousand, and three-thousand respectively. The secret door is cheap because it depends on illusion rather than substance for protection.”
That caught the spotted cat-woman’s attention. “Really?” She murmured as she considered that. “Oh... okay then. And you mentioned you have trap designs I can use for defense too, right?”
“Oh yes, let us NOT forget the traps...” the shop-owner replied before taking a moment to consider what she would get the best use of and what would line his pockets all the heavier. Finally, he told her, “Elemental traps of lightning, fire, and ice are the norm for dungeon keepers. Effective for a single blast of elemental magic before being spent. Your enemies’ stronger creatures will likely be able to shrug one off, but a rogue or lower...” he waved his hand in a farewell motion for emphasis. “You can say, ‘nighty-night’ to ‘em.”
The Bouldarr then smirked. “However! Anyone and their mother–if they didn’t sacrifice her yet–can use bloody magic! And some of those anyone magic-users can cast shielding spells. So that’s why when it comes to attacking, you’re gonna want the SENTRY TRAP! A squat cannon that fires bolts of magical energy at approaching enemies.”
That made Britanny blink her eyes once, twice, THRICE. She knew they had developed far enough to create flintlocks but... “A magical cannon!?”
Nodding his head rapidly, the troll was grinning. “Oh yes! The sentry trap is an automated cannon on a rotating base that fires at any enemies within its range. Some consider it one of the more basic traps, dealing minimal damage...” he smirked. “However, don’t discount them. While single, the effectiveness of sentry traps can be minimal, but a battery of them, combined with ways to keep the opponent away from them–such a Barricades, Freeze or Fear Traps–can be a powerful force. Also, unlike many other traps, the sentry trap will continue to function until destroyed, unlike the magic traps which are spent in one shot. Truly, a great value at only three-thousand gold for the schematics!”
“That...” the werecheetah paused as she considered it. “Seems pretty reasonable. What’s the catch?” If there was one thing she learned from her time underground, it was that everyone was trying to work some sort of angle.
“Of course, dear Keeper. You see, these are just the designs. To make all these traps and barricades, you’re gonna need a workshop...” he waggled his eyebrows.
The woman had a bad feeling about that. “...Let me guess: ten-thousand gold.” It wasn’t a question.
The troll clapped his hands together. “Oh, you know me SO well!”
Crescens frowned. “You have just those? Why not falling boulders from the ceiling or spikes from the floor? Or lances shooting out of the walls? Explosive bombs going off under people’s feet? How about a banana peel to make them slip and fall down? A rake to the face so they get pissed off and chase after you? Spring-loaded floor boards to send people flying into a melting furnace or something?”
Cheetah turned towards her friend. “Sounds like someone paying attention to the stories I told them about all of the trouble Gina would get me into.”
Nodding her head firmly, the pointy-eared green-skinned woman replied, “Of course.”
“Oh, no worries, ma’am. We have far, far more than what I listed,” he chuckled. “We have all kinds of traps. However, any peon can use those. Your Mistress wants top-of-the-line and expensive goodies...” he considered something for a moment. “Although, I do have a trap from ages past that I believe she can make use of... the Word of Power Trap.”
Britanny blinked her eyes. “Word of Power?”
“Oh yes!” The Bouldarr replied. “The Word of Power trap is specially tailored to tap right into the Dungeon Heart as it explodes with the dungeon keeper’s Word of Power spell when a bloody hero or enemy minion passes over it. This spell is very destructive blast of pure, non-elemental magic that expands from the trap in all directions. Unlike other traps, this one does not harm your creatures and unlike other magical traps, can reset itself for three uses. Paired with a number of lightning traps with their wider area-of-effect, and it creates a formidable obstacle for your enemies.”
“I wonder if I can use that to punish some of my, ‘trainees’...” the Elite dark mistress mumbled quietly. If the trap could be adjusted to where instead of pain and death, it would be extreme pleasure instead.
Then again, considering her definition of pleasure, all she had to do for adjustment was to keep it from killing people.
Mulling over what the shop-owner told her, the werecheetah finally nodded her head in acceptance. “All right. So how much is that trap going to run me?” Her eyes narrowed. “And it better not be ten-thousand!”
Raising his right hand, the muscled minion waved off her worries. “Oh, fear not, Keeper. It’s not going to cost you ten-thousand gold.”
The werecheetah began to relax a little. “Oh. Good. I was worried that—”
The vendor interrupted her. “It's twenty-thousand.”
Trembling, the cat-woman asked, “...Twenty-thousand?” The spotted blonde’s fur stood on end. “TWENTY-THOUSAND!? THAT’S MORE THAN A GODDAMN ROOM!”
The shop-owner was nonplussed by her outburst. “Yes, but you have to remember this, Keeper. This trap ties directly to your Dungeon Heart...” a serious gaze came over the troll’s features as his face scrunched up. “This trap is of a design from before Dis’ era, something that was lost to time. This trap allows your Dungeon Heart to defend itself! Usually they’re a sitting target, but The Word of Power trap allows it to attack!” He leaned onto the counter again. “Such is a rarity in this day and age and as it’s a keeper spell, it’s powerful... even better, because it is the Heart itself that powers it, your minions have immunity. The Heart recognizes their Bonds of Servitude and can circumvent the magic to flow through and around them harmlessly while still scorching your enemies with full-force. It is truly the Masterwork of all traps...”
Britanny wondered why her next thought involved it dancing, but she didn’t want to say anything, that would just be stupid. “I guess that makes sense.” At the rate this was going, this whole shop would have more gold than her treasury. Then again, maybe she could...
“Nah!” The werecheetah decided that it was, “Probably not a good idea to steal it back from him... yet.” she thought rather deviously. Sure, she had a gem vein that she could mine continuously, but it was gonna cost her to build and maintain everything. Good dungeons didn’t come cheap. “I... I believe that’s all I need for now. Wrap it up, will you?”
Giving the woman a nod of his head, the troll politely replied, “Of course, Keeper. Allow me to gather everything...” turning around, he pulled a large rag aside, revealing it was a curtain for a doorway behind him. He then walked into the back, pulling the curtain closed as it went.
With the male troll out of the room, Ayane turned to the werecheetah... and hugged tightly. “Thank you, Mistress!” she cried out in delight. “I promise, I will make the most use out of my torture chamber! Your enemies will learn what it means to know pain and ecstasy when I get through with them...” she brought her lips to Cheetah’s ear, whispering, “And I promise, if you want a turn, I’ll be... gentle...." she then began to nibble on the cat-woman’s left ear.
Britanny shivered as she felt the Elite dark mistress’ finger move up her back. “Ayane, I swear, when we get back, I’m going to make you pay for thisss...” she grit her teeth as she hissed through them. Part of her wondered why she wasn’t beating the woman off of her.
Another part of her was wondering why they weren’t in a bed and naked already!
The professional dominatrix of evil merely grinned at her. “I hope so, Mistress! I’ll show you everything I can offer you.”
Crescens blushed as she watched the sight of the woman with the facial scar teasing Lady Gia. She hoped they stopped soon. She had no intention of being a voyeur and doing so was building up a heat within her... one that was becoming uncomfortable as time passed.
After a few moments or pleasurable torment testing her patience, the curtain finally pulled aside once more. The troll came out, hefting a LARGE box of gold. SOLID GOLD! The top and bottom lid were etched with the same question mark that emblazoned the entrance of his building, marking it as one of his works. It also had scaled, brick-red leather wrapped around it, to make for better friction to hold. “Here you go, Keeper!” He placed the box down on the counter. “One Magical Box, filled with all the schematics you could want. I even threw in an Alarm trap for free since you’re buying so much!” The fact that she’d need a guard room to make the most of it went unsaid. “That will be one-hundred and ten thou—”
The shop-owner was interrupted as the female gaoblin suddenly dropped to one knee, screaming out in pain; her ethereal hands pressing against her chest. The heat she’d felt was becoming excruciatingly painful!
“CRESCENS!” Britanny screamed as she managed to shrug off the Elite dark mistress with a surprising amount of force. Kinky time could wait! Crescens needed her! Dropping down beside her friend, the werecheetah was quickly rubbing a hand along her back, between the shoulders. “Speak to me! What’s happening!?”
“Who’s screaming in there!?” Horny roared from outside. “Is there killing going on? There BETTER not be any killing going on without me!”
Turning her head towards the entrance, Ayane pointed at the downed woman as she called out. “I think the green one is dying!”
“OOOOH!” The door opened, the Horned Reaper tilting his head and leaning in so he could see what was happening. “How lovely! I always enjoy a nice death!” He grinned in a most insidious fashion. “And look at the SUFFERING she’s going through! That’s a solid, ‘Eight’ right there!”
“SHUT UP AND HELP ME!” Britanny roared as she lifted the armless gaoblin up onto the table; laying her out on the countertop as soon as her dark mistress removed the magical box from it. She pressed her hand down on the woman’s chest, feeling for her heartbeat. It was incredibly erratic. “Crescens? Can you hear me? What’s going on? Please! Talk to me!”
The ex-high priestess’ breathing was coming shallow breaths now; her skin beginning to shimmer with a sheen of sweat as her internal temperature continued to rise without stop. “It aches... b-burns... so... so HOT!” she grit her teeth “It burns! Oh God, IT BU~UURRRNS!!” She screamed as her body went into spasms, her Void Claws sputtering out erratically.
The werecheetah felt her heart jump up into her throat as soon as the woman’s skin began to split, steam coming up from beneath. The breaks weren’t bloody gouges though, oh no! Instead, it was glowing where it became exposed. In fact, as her skin blackened along the breaks, it had the appearance of cooling rock atop a lava flow. “Sweet Jesus, what’s going on!?”
The answer came when her missing adviser just flew on through the Horned Reaper that had been cluttering the entrance to the shop. “KEEPER!!” came the bewildered cry of The Mentor, the normally unflappable spirit completely and utterly ‘flapped’. “YOUR DUNGEON HEART IS UNDER ATTACK!”
The crimson warrior of demonic might blinked his eyes once, twice. “Well... that would get someone who was connected to your Dungeon Heart to react like that, I suppose.” Horny shrugged, before realizing what was just said. “...Oh, right, that’s a bad thing when it’s happening to us, isn’t it?” Especially when it threatened his access to meatalo!
The Mentor was looking back and forth quickly, taking stock of the situation. “A Martyr enchantment...” he whispered in awe, realizing what he was seeing.
Britanny turned to look over her shoulder at her literal spiritual advisor. “A what?”
“Never mind that now!” the apparition advised. “Use your Hold Audience spell to get us back! QUICKLY!” Normally they’d need to rush to a Portal Gem, but she’d already shown her power and influence could extend all the way out here.
Cheetah didn’t have to be told twice. Her ether vents glowing, the feline lycanthrope was quick to chant, “Culinare!”
And like that, she, Crescens, the slaves, the Horned Reaper, and the elite dark mistress disappeared...
...Along with the magical box Ayane had been holding at the time.
“HEY!!” The Bouldarr roared. “What about my money!?” He cried out in indignation at the now empty shop.
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(Posted Thu, 26 Feb 2015 03:00)
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