Dungeon Master Pt. 01

"It is my reason for being."

Good.

8

The advisor entered the royal court with a cowardly looking man following behind. "Lord, only one spy has returned with a terrific tale. I would say he has been drinking, but there is no smell of wine on his breath."

Standing from his chair, dropping his chalice of wine, "Speak!"

Shuddering at the king's excitement, the spy reported, "There is an army of the dead! And a fortress being built underground."

Falling into his chair then sulking, the king wailed, "What will we do?"

The advisor said, "I agree something strange is happening with Bathemus, but this talk about an army of dead is dangerous."

"So he is rebuilding underground? The king said almost silently, ignoring his advisor's comment. "Underground?"

"Yes." Said the spy

The king's advisor pressed his lips into a thin line, but didn't interrupt.

"In the earth?" The king grabbed a tuft of his red hair and asked no one, "Send an army to their graves?"

"What good will it do against the dead?" the spy asked.

"Quiet, dog! The advisor slapped the spy. "My lord, we will send out thirty spies who are highly skilled and competent for this purpose. Then you will see that these men are telling idle tales to stir your blood. It is a joke from someone who will pay dearly for treating you in this unkind manner, my gracious king."

The Homen king waited for an attendant to fill his chalice and after having taken a large swallow, he said, "Send the spies then. But I have a feeling Bathemus has turned his power against us. And if that is so, we will fight."

"Yes my lord." Looking to a guard, he said, "Take this worthless spy to the stockade." Then the advisor left.

"Get me more wine," the king said cried.

9

Seven levels, but there must be eight and then nine, farther into the earth, deeper still.

"I never intended to quit."

More traps. The armies are coming, a great many warriors willing to die.

"That is all they can do."

Don't let them get close. They can hurt your body.

"I would not allow that."

You must be careful or else you will never be master of the sky.

"I must be master of the sky. It's why I live."

Before you are master of the sky, you must learn how to defeat space. Make yourself stand in the corner of this room without moving your feet or floating through the air.

"I do not posses the knowledge. Show me, my God."

Here, listen to my voice because space is nothing...

CHAPTER 2

War of the dead

"Align the men into smaller groups. The passageway is small and cannot be invaded at once," said a general to his manservant. The manservant ran to a captain and the message was relayed to the entire camp.

Soldiers assembled into groups of thirty from the three nations of the Homen, Sync, and Gebra. They were armed with round shields, short swords, spears, and bows and arrows. The kings that had made a pact to protect one another from the insolent Bathemus were in the background, safely in a tent watching from afar.

A tall and wide door stood imbedded on the hillside.

Get the first thirty in there!" shouted the general. He raised his sword as trumpets blew.

The soldiers lifted a battering ram and charged the gate. Their feet sank into dirt and mud as they carried the heavy weapon.

Foaming at the mouth, a soldier yelled, "Kill Bathemus!"

"Kill the traitor!" another screamed.

The men charged with the ram. But the door began to open. The men drew to a halt.

"The fool welcomes his death!"

"As do we!" someone said then laughed.

The battering ram lay abandoned on the ground while thirty men marched to the opened passage.

"I will cut Bathemus in two," a soldier said.

"Save that talk until to see the blackness of his eyes." A Homen captain admonished. He reached the passage first. Inside, there was no light. "Fire, we need torches."

"Torches!" someone cried.

A servant rushed to their aid with seven torches in his folded arms and distributed them among the men.

"Is our enemy hiding?

As the flames grew, the shadows stretched further into the pit to reveal the plain hallway, short. The men waged on with seven men holding torches instead of swords.

"There should be practicers of magic here with us as well. Bathemus is a wizard."

"There are some in the ranks of the King of the south."

"Why are they not here then? We will die without their protection."

"Because we must fight the first ranks so that they will be safe. They are not warrior's like us."

"Quite that talk right now!"

"Mutinous speech!"

"All you dogs keep your yaps drawn together. Let's not die arguing with each other. From now on, no more talk. Our echoes precede us."

Finally the soldiers entered a large room of pillars. They could no longer smell the outside air. Everything in the place smelled old, shut in.

"Did someone ease his air?"

Laughter.

"No, I think it was a gust."

More laughter.

"Stop it. I think I hear something." The captain lied so as to keep his mend quiet. His soldiers moved unusually timidly. Talking, not listening to orders or common sense. This made the captain feel worried, but he didn't show his fear.

"What did you hear?" A soldier inquired.

"I could not tell with all of you talking. Keep an eye on those columns. There might be enemies hiding behind them."

Another soldier not able to resist, "I hear that we are not fighting men like we ourselves are."

"No, men who would follow Bathemus are not like us."

"I mean, I hear that we are not even fighting men."

"You mean the creatures? That's a rumor, is it not?"

Silence

"Watch the columns."

The torches lit the room well. But instead of enemies, there were a great number of paintings erected on the walls and columns.

"Paintings?" someone said.

Another soldier who strayed from the bulk of the crowd to inspect one of the paintings up close asked, "What is this?" Speaking about the material of the picture frame. "Is this gold?"

"It is! It's gold!" A Sync soldier announced to the entire group and probably anyone or anything within the distance.

A mad rush for the frames began, but the paintings would not dislodge from the walls. Soldiers watched incredulously as their fellows' greed took over. "Help us," the greedy troops pleaded.

"Our mission," the others responded.

"We'll be rich after this mission. Think of your families!"

The Homen captain, held his men back with a sword to keep them from joining the Sync and Gebra troops said, "We'll think of our necks. You make yourself an easy target. Not yet have we searched this room or where it leads before you've set your swords into their sheaths." Turning his back on the greedy soldiers, he told his men to follow him. He counted ten Homen soldiers with three of them holding torches.

Walking until he could not hear the distracted noise the greedy soldiers were making, the Homen captain came upon a gate. With the edge of his sword, the Homen captain pressed a red plate set into the wall adjacent the gate. Slowly the gate drew upward. "This way."

"What about the others?" a soldier asked.

"The others are doing what they do best. And we are about to do what Homen do best." Answered the Homen captain.

The entrance led left by way of a hall. In the next hall to the right, a stairway led down to a lower level.

"Which way?" a soldier asked.

"Down the hall first then the stairs. But we do not want to be surrounded so five men stay here and watch the stairs. Call us immediately if you hear something or see a light."

Five men stayed and four men joined the captain to search the remainder of the hall. When the captain and his men left, one of the soldiers watching the stairs said, to the other four, "Those dogs are getting rich while we risk our lives."

Another answered, "There is still more room in their pack for you to join."

"I don't like fleas, but I don't like to be poor either," said the former.

The slightly larger group separated to inspect further down the hall. They carried two torches. A door stood at the end of this hall, which they opened. Inside they found a sack with food inside and a shield on the floor.

"There's nothing else. Let's go back. We should try and bring the Sync with us. Convince them."

1

Outside the dungeon, the general spoke to his manservant. "I don't hear anything. Send a second group."

"SECOND GROUP!"

Thirty men dispersed from a battalion and marched through the front gate.

"What did you see?" asked the five who stayed behind when the captain and the four soldiers returned.

"Nothing but a sack and buckler," the Homen captain said.

"Do we go down now?"

"Not without the Sync."

"Listen, the mongrels come."

The Sync sluggishly entered the hall, apparently without their gold frames. "They won't come off the wall," a Sync soldier moaned.

The Homen laughed while the Sync grumbled.

"What's going on? Where is the enemy?" A Gebra leader and his troop asked as they joined the Homen and Sync.

"No where, yet. We will have to descend this staircase." The Homen captain answered.

"Let's not wait. We only have a little time before another group is sent in." The Gebra pushed their way through the cramped corridor.

"The Gebra stop at nothing," a Gebra soldier shouted then followed his troop leader. The large Gebra shoved their way to the front, though the hall was cramped.

"Let's not let it be said that we were last to charge!" The Homen captain cried and went after the Gebra.

The Sync followed closely down the hall, but the line came to a halt as everyone was cramped for space. The second group shouldn't have been sent inside.

"A door," some one shouted from downstairs. Then came the noise of a crank and unseen gears from behind the stonewalls.

"A message," others shouted from a different direction also downstairs. "A spell. Can anyone read it?" More grunts of disappointment and anger.

A war cry, "Look! It is the dead!"

The Homen pushed but could not budge the large Gebra, "Go! Move so that we can all fight!"

"Ah!" The sound of a sword shearing. "The dead live!" A Gebra soldier screamed.

The Sync leader cried, "What's going on? Can anyone see? Get reinforcements!"

A Sync soldier broke from the rear to call for another group of thirty.

"No," yelled the Homen captain. "It is already too cramped. Call the Sync soldier back, and tell the reinforcements to stay out until we call. There isn't enough room!"

A Homen soldier chased after the Sync messenger.

Downstairs, past the door that had been opened, four Gebra chopped to pieces a burned hunter carrying a hatchet. It had been standing in the dark, in the middle of the room, patiently standing with it's stained weapon held in the air.

Two Gebra lay on the floor; one cut on the bicep and another trying to stop a spurt of blood from spraying from his neck.

"Kill it!" A soldier swung his sword across the monster's arm. The arm fell to the ground while another soldier pierced its stomach with a spear.

"Braaaaa!!!" The hunter monster yelled.

Soldiers continued hacking the creature until it would not move.

When the monster stopped thrashing, the Gebra troop leader cried that the wounded be treated. "Hold his neck you fools, and take him out of here!"

Finally, the crowd of soldiers moved enough for the Homen and Sync to enter.

"I knew we were dealing with spiritual forces!" A Sync soldier fearfully muttered. "We must get the magical practicers in here."

"Not until we clear a section of the dungeon," said the Homen captain.

"What is it?" a Sync soldier asked who had just entered the room. He was looking at the dead body of the hunter.

The body was burned from head to foot. Even the lids were eaten away. Some fragments of clothes were singed to the body. The chopped arm sat slightly away from the body yet still held the hatchet.

"We must go on," said the Homen captain. "All men with spears move ahead."

2

See how determined they are? They will not stop.

"It was sixty to one. They will not succeed."

Close the doors so that we can take these.

"They will break the doors eventually."

Let them. By then it will be too late.

"Sixty warriors by the time they break the doors down? To do that, I would have to..."

No! You mustn't ever fight, yourself! You mustn't.

"As...you say."

Good.

3

Outside, the general's manservant stood post. Thirty Gebra soldiers had just entered the dungeon. He leaned into the dark entrance. A moment ago, the men had been screaming. Was they the screams of the enemy or friend? Had he a sword and torch, the manservant thought, he would have followed his brothers into the battle. Yet that was not his command. The general's manservant wiped his forehead. He had felt something tickle his brow. Looking up, he saw that the gate had begun to steadily drop. My brothers are still yet inside! The manservant thought fearfully. It's a trap! "Block the door! Stop it before they are trapped! Save them!"

Nobody could tell what the manservant was shouting. Everyone who had noticed his cries watched as he ran to the battering ram and grabbed a peg as if he intended to push it on his own. A great number of people laughed at this display.

Their laughter only stopped when they saw that the door was nearly shut, and by then, it was too late.

The general's manservant fell to his knees as he heard his General's command for the door to be broken down.

Chapter 3

Hall of Champions

The Gebra, Homen, and Sync were destroyed. The furthest they had reached was the third level. Twenty had dyed by the awesome hands of a rock creature. Against the rock creature's shell, the soldiers' weapons were useless.

Three hundred men had been released into the cavernous pit. Chaos and blood overran the floors. The bodies that were not torn into pieces were raised by Bathemus to fight those who remained alive.

The evil host could not convince Bathemus to hide in safety. Bathemus helped his small army of a thousand to strike down the hundred thousand soldiers who had come to destroy him. The practicers of magic were methodically destroyed first. Containment spells were used on the floating Bathemus but none of them had worked. Invisible ropes lashed and drug the kings into the dungeon, past the battered front gate. Where they were left in the tenth level to be tortured.

1

Years passed. The dirt of the battlefield took on a scarlet hue. The dungeons infamous reputation spread throughout the world so that bands of thieves attempted to infiltrate and steal a bit of the dungeon's treasure. Bathemus enjoyed visitors. The deeper they ventured within the halls, the higher Bathemus' excitement grew. Occasionally, he allowed thieves to leave with gold so that the dungeon's fame would grow and draw others who were greedy enough to risk their lives.

A school was erected to train warriors who could defeat the labyrinth. The school taught many skills, archery, medicine, free hand fighting, sword fighting, and wizardry.

Hissa – the snake man – was a tremendous fighter. He defeated the great Salomon, warrior of the three deserts. Hissa's skin was scaly, reptilian. And he was said to be as strong as three men. He was sent with a band of dependable warriors and yet he never returned.

Next, Salomon, warrior of the three deserts, second only to the great Hissa, was sent with a larger band of ferocious fighters, but neither did he nor any from his band return.

Phillip – man of guile – snuck into the dungeon and hid in shadows. He was prepared with vast amounts of poison. He hoped never to see Bathemus. All that was required was a certain amount of poison in the wizard's water or food supply. Possibly, he could leave with a bit of the legendary treasure that was said to be stored in multiple places within the deadly labyrinth.

Alas, all had failed. With their failure was sent their last and best hope. Master of wizardry and conjurer of spirits, all hope was placed in the magnificent Zed. His power was fire, and his eyes glowed with a red blaze.

When Zed's horse returned without him, everyone was filled with dread. And shortly afterward, the school was closed.