《Dungeon Master Dungeon Core》 1. Dungeon Master, now Dungeon Core "As you stealthily approach the door, you hear a faint conversation. It sounds gruff, and what few words you can pick up are horribly mispronounced," Jared narrated as he frantically took notes. He didn¡¯t expect his players to come this way, although he didn¡¯t show it. He had been playing this popular game about dragons and dungeons for countless years and had a knack for improvisation. ¡°Gram don¡¯t like sneaking. Gram want fight!¡± Elias, aka Gram, said in his best orc voice. He was the only player out of the four who actually got into character. The party had only been able to get this far unnoticed by having the Paladin smother Gram with his shield. The orcish barbarian had finally been able to break free. To the dismay of the rogue and wizard, Gram decided the first thing to do with his newfound freedom was to charge through them and break down the door. Jared chuckled. The orc had led to all sorts of trouble before, and he both annoyed and amused everyone at the table. ¡°Roll a strength check to push past everyone¡­ with advantage,¡± Jared said with a smirk. Elias smiled in return before eagerly picking his lucky die and throwing it on the table. It spun around for a few seconds before finally settling down. A natural 1. In that moment, while everyone at the table was having a good laugh, a semi-truck plowed through the wall, aimed directly at the table. In the moment before Jared¡¯s death, he calmly pondered how the truck had gotten there. He lived on the floor above a game shop which he proudly owned, and he found it quite odd that a truck had somehow jumped a floor to smash the wall of his house. His mind drifted off as 17 tons of truck hit his and all his players'' bodies. Jared regretted all the adventures he wouldn¡¯t have, all the ideas that would never be brought to fruition. In his last unnaturally long seconds of life, Jared simply wished that he could¡¯ve brought more fun to his players, told more stories, and made more adventures to experience. Then everything went dark.
Jared felt stretched, as if his mind was being forced to perceive much more than it usually should. He had an awful headache, or at least he thought he did. Everything was a blur and he was feeling things he never felt before and not feeling things he had always felt. It lasted for what seemed like an eternity. Ever so slowly, the pain of his mind being stretched faded, and he could think clearly again. He was in the center of a circular room, exactly 25 feet wide, and in front of him was a pathway leading to an upward-going set of stairs. Everything was made of stones fitted together roughly, with the space in between filled with everything from dirt to moss. Lots of moss, actually; it made the place look ancient. A blue light, seemingly coming from him, filled the room. Jared tried to stand up, before realizing that he couldn¡¯t feel, much less move, any of his limbs. He briefly panicked, hoping that the truck didn¡¯t leave him paralyzed. Truck? What truck? Jared thought for a moment. He couldn¡¯t remember much of what happened before he woke up here, other than it felt like it took a long time. He delved into his memory, searching for what happened. In an instant, it all flooded back to him. He had died. He didn¡¯t know where he was, but he doubted it was Earth. By all laws of fantasy, when you get killed by a truck it means you¡¯ve been isekai¡¯d. And considering he hadn¡¯t awoken in the middle of a summoning circle with wizards and cute girls surrounding him, he presumed that he wasn¡¯t the hero. Lifting his thoughts out of his memories and back to the situation at hand, Jared observed his surroundings as closely as he could before coming to a realization. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. He was in a dungeon. He was giving off a strange light. He was the dungeon. Looking back, it seemed rather obvious. He died and was reincarnated as the Dungeon Core. He thought it was rather ironic, a Dungeon Master being reincarnated as a Dungeon Core, but he couldn¡¯t be happier.
Some hours had passed. Or was it days? All Jared knew is that it broke the trend and didn¡¯t feel like an eternity. In that time, he went wild with experimenting. One thing he noticed immediately was just how similar everything was to D&D. It wasn¡¯t an exact copy, but it was too close to deny the resemblance. While he couldn¡¯t see outside the dungeon, he could see everything inside of it. After he realized that he was a dungeon, Jared quickly put all of his knowledge about dungeons and dungeon cores to use and was able to expand his perception throughout the entire structure. At first, he had the familiar stretching feeling, but throughout the course of his experiments, that had faded entirely and seeing everything in his dungeon became second nature. Contrary to what he assumed based on the crippling amount of light novels he read, Jared didn¡¯t start out as a tiny dungeon. In fact, he already had three floors, about 17 rooms in total. Several monsters wandered around. The first floor is cave-like and there are exclusively goblins and hobgoblins. They have various huts and campfires around the place, but they are still goblins. They aren¡¯t building a real civilization anytime soon. Although they do seem to have a leader of sorts. He¡¯s a much larger hobgoblin, maybe 20% bigger than the rest, and he guards the tunnel leading to the second floor. A boss in more ways than one The second floor is still cave-like but a much deeper variety. All the rock is darker, and there are some ores here and there. There is the occasional tough hobgoblin living it rough here, but it¡¯s mostly populated by giant spiders and bears, with a bugbear as the boss. The third floor differs dramatically from the other two as it quickly transitions into an ancient ruin type, with cracked stone, moss, traps and all. It¡¯s got snakes, skeletons, and traps. You cannot understate the number of traps it has. But for every trap, there¡¯s a treasure as well. Whereas the only reward you¡¯re getting from the first two floors is what you can scavenge off of what you kill, here there are chests full of gold, jewels, everything. He observed that the boss on this floor is a larger, heavily armored skeleton. He wears a crown of steel encrusted with jewels of all sorts and he¡¯s accompanied by six other, smaller, but still well-armored skeletons. Jared decided to call the boss the ¡°Marrow King.¡± Rather than a tunnel leading to a fourth floor, a small staircase leads to his core room. Jared, observing all of this in an instant, immediately drew the conclusion that this is totally D&D. Whereas before it was a curious theory, now it¡¯s pretty cemented. The bugbear is proof, at least all the proof Jared needed. He was intimately familiar with D&D and could recognize it anywhere. It didn¡¯t change much though. Jared is still a dungeon core; he just has more knowledge from his previous life to work with. Then came the fun part; actually changing the dungeon. Jared was quite pleased with how the dungeon is currently, but some changes are in order. Jared, gathering all his weebish knowledge, willed the dungeon to change. He tried to will the dungeon to dig deeper, to make a fourth floor, but to no avail. He tried looking for some menu, some system, but found none. After trying a plethora of other methods, some weirder than others, Jared would¡¯ve sat down and slouched if he could¡¯ve, but that too didn¡¯t work. What was the point of being a dungeon if you couldn¡¯t evolve, if you couldn¡¯t change? Ever since landing here, Jared had been thinking on overdrive. He had so many ideas; and he wanted to use them all. In a strange flash of inspiration, Jared just started narrating. Not to anyone, but to the dungeon itself. ¡°After defeating the Marrow King and his servants, you see a doorway in the far wall. Getting closer to it, you see stairs leading down. As you wander along them, you suddenly come upon an underground river. The cave appears to be roughly 200 feet tall, too long to see the end¡° Jared continued narrating, but as he did all his words came true. With a smirk on his nonexistent face, he created the fourth floor. His core was moved, by some magic, to the end of said floor. Similar to his previous position just below the third floor A massive underwater river, populated with all sorts of mermen and water monsters. Almost pitch black except for some mystical blue light coming from under the running water. A river, being a river, has no typical dungeon structure. Jared wanted to change that. He made the river slowly feed off into different holes in the dungeon, too small to crawl into, until the river became more of a stream. This stream flowed through several caverns and caves, forming the typical dungeon structure, just with water guiding your way. There were mermen in the river; Jared had decided to do that without thinking twice, but he couldn¡¯t quite decide what to put in the cavernous areas of the stream. But it didn¡¯t matter, at least for the moment. Jared felt an itch, like a bug crawling on his skin. Focusing his vision on the area, he saw what would only bring him joy beyond compare: adventurers. 2. The Dungeon Evolves ¡°I feel like we are being watched,¡± said a lean man dressed entirely in black cloth and leather, so you could hardly see his face. He is pretty obviously the party¡¯s rogue. Another man, named Marike, with long auburn hair, put his gloved hands out and chanted for a few seconds, then looked thoroughly around the room. ¡°See Invisibility isn¡¯t picking anything up¡­ no one is scrying on us, at least.¡± ¡°Just¡­ keep your eyes peeled,¡± the rogue replied. ¡°Something feels off. I¡¯ve never felt like somebody was watching me while going through dungeons.¡± ¡°You¡¯re fine. Probably just drank too much ale last night, eh?¡± said the last of the three. A large, heavily armored man wielding a mace and shield named Farris. A paladin, Jared guessed. He had seen the man heal a cut on the rogue, although not fully. The amulet he proudly wore looked very religious. Jared had heard their names through tidbits of conversation they had while traversing his dungeon, although not the rogue¡¯s. He seemed secretive, probably even more so when he felt watched. The trio continued along the first floor, having made it halfway through with some difficulty. A particularly reckless hobgoblin had dented the paladin¡¯s pauldron and the wizard had a nasty cut from a sneaky goblin, but nothing life-threatening. Jared noticed how the party seemed familiar with the dungeon. Farris confidently led them through most of the major rooms, taking the shortest path to the floor boss. The boss fight was pretty rough, but Marike and Farris worked well together. The paladin would dodge an attack, then the wizard would cast a Fire Bolt to blind the enemy while the paladin struck back while the boss was distracted. The rogue, however, was entirely disconnected from them. He was skilled, definitely more so than the other two, but he obviously didn¡¯t work well in a team. The fight ended abruptly when he managed to sneak up on the hobgoblin and push a dagger through its throat. After the party had collected whatever meager loot they could find on the boss, the rogue started walking toward the tunnel leading to the second floor. But before he could, Farris put a hand out. ¡°Going down there isn¡¯t a good idea, lad,¡± the paladin said sternly. ¡°The second floor is full of spiders and all sorts of unholy abominations,¡± he said while heaving a sack of usable leather onto his shoulder. ¡°They aren¡¯t too hard to beat, I hear, but they¡¯ve got some nasty poison. And while I can heal most wounds, that stuff is beyond my reach. And as far as I know, everyone in the quaint little town above ground too.¡± ¡°We barely got anything worth selling!¡± the rogue replied. ¡°We aren¡¯t here for loot, we¡¯re here for experience. I just got out of the academy and I don¡¯t feel like being the subject of a moral tale about greed,¡± Marike interjected before starting his walk back to the exit, Farris following. The rogue longingly stared at the tunnel, sighed, then followed the other two. When the party left, Jared had a sudden feeling of great exhaustion akin to when he used to run 8-hour D&D sessions. He must have had the feeling after modeling the fourth floor but pushed through it just to observe the adventurers. Even with the Dungeon Core equivalent of heavy eyelids, Jared was chock full of excitement. His first adventuring party! They had been here before; he guessed that rather than being reincarnated as a fresh Dungeon Core, he had taken over an older one. He wondered how it worked but didn¡¯t wonder for long. There were changes to be made. He wanted to add loot. Only the third floor having loot just felt wrong. Adventurers should be rewarded for their hardship with more than just experience. So he started adding various valuables around the place. A goblin with a gem here, a stash of gold there. He tried to hide the loot in places where the adventurers hadn¡¯t gone¡ªside rooms that weren¡¯t on the path to the floor boss. Even as Jared started narrating his gold into existence, his weariness grew. He tried holding it back. He didn¡¯t know when the next party would come, but he had spent so long properly balancing dungeons in his old life that having one without any loot felt like a crime. He had gotten maybe halfway when he had trouble thinking. His thoughts were a blur, and the only thing he could do was try to resist the temptation to stop. He had to finish at least the first floor, then he could res¡ª Everything went dark for a second time.
Luckily for Jared, he didn¡¯t die a second time. He woke up with a similar, although lesser sense of the tiredness before he tried to push his limit and place loot everywhere. Tired, but fully functioning. He wouldn¡¯t do that again. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Jared put his thoughts together and was about to continue placing loot when he felt a familiar itch. He quickly focused his attention on the area where he felt it: the second floor. He saw the same roguish man from the adventuring party, alone and dying. He had been stung and was now crawling his way to the first floor. Jared felt a tad bit of sympathy for the man but swiftly pushed it away. He had chosen to come alone, fully knowing the danger. It was his fault. He did find it rather impressive, though, that the rogue had managed to clear the entire first floor before arriving at the second. He must have had at least 3 or 4 levels in Rogue, but it hadn¡¯t been enough. The lonely rogue made it halfway across the first floor before succumbing to the venom. He was thinking about what monsters to put in the caverns on the fourth floor when he saw something very odd happen. The goblins which were slain unraveled, almost like a bundle of cord coming undone. The cord then spread out and arranged itself in a complex weave spanning the entire room before slowly disappearing from his vision. The goblin was gone. It happened to all the other goblins at the same time. Within seconds, all of them were gone. Then the same thing happened to the rogue, albeit at a much slower pace. Everything except his belongings and his bones disappeared. And when the rogue ¡®unraveled,¡¯ Jared suddenly felt a whole lot less tired. Rejuvenated, even. He had halfway expected it to happen, but he was quite glad his expectations were met. Before Jared¡¯s very Dungeon Core eyes, the same ¡®weave¡¯ appeared once more and formed fresh goblins, then disappeared again. The goblins promptly took the dead rogue¡¯s gear with delight in their eyes. The skeleton of the rogue abruptly shot to life and began finding its way to the third floor. No monsters attacked it; the opposite actually. They moved their traps and gave it right of way. When it reached the third floor, it wandered over to the boss chamber and joined the other six Marrow Knights and the Marrow King there. Jared was surprised; if he had a jaw, it¡¯d be on the floor. He had a system like that in one of his old D&D campaigns, although in a different dungeon. After having a burst of nostalgia for a few minutes, Jared finished setting loot around the first floor. He didn¡¯t put any on the second, as the venom that could be collected from the giant spiders and the hides from the bears were loot enough in his mind. But he did decide to add something just before the second floor. In the entrance, he carved a side tunnel leading to a small tavern. It had all the things you¡¯d expect a tavern to have: rooms, ale, and antidotes. Jared didn¡¯t like how fearful the adventurers were about the venom. Fighting enemies was fun; slowly dying to a bug bite wasn¡¯t. Plus, the gold the adventurers spent on antidotes would recycle into the loot, making it easier on him when time came around to replace it. Jared just hoped the adventurers wouldn¡¯t kill the inhabitants of the tavern on sight. The only question was what to have inhabit the bar. Jared didn¡¯t know if he could make humans, but he didn¡¯t want to try. He didn¡¯t even know if he could make monsters with human-level intelligence. Well, the mermen he spawned on the fourth floor on a whim had pretty good intellect. He actually saw them building small underwater structures before the adventurers delved. Jared had a hard time deciding, so he made a compromise: a little bit of everything. As long as they were friendly, any monster with some intelligence would do. He made an orc bartender, a roguish goblin in a shadowy corner, a bugbear bouncer, and all sorts of unique monsters. He tried his best to make them friendly and, hopefully, intelligent. When he made them, he felt it took more energy from him than normal monsters, so he hoped it would work. He would observe how they acted later, but for now, he wanted to populate the fourth floor¡¯s caverns with monsters, and he had finally decided on which to do it with. Giant crabs. Specifically, ones with shells made of rock. They would blend in and hopefully give whatever adventurers went down there a not-so-pleasant surprise. As he narrated the crabs into being, Jared noticed how the mermen had built a lot of structures: houses, streets, even a temple. It interested him greatly. Jared was always a DM, someone who built a world for others to build stories in. And now, here he was, building a dungeon where monsters built their own stories and, in this case, underwater temples. It was unintentional; he meant for adventurers to build stories here, but he didn¡¯t complain. Then, as seems to be tradition when Jared is working on the fourth floor, he felt an itch.
Karius led his party of four through the first floor, easily slaughtering all the goblins and hobgoblins inhabiting it and following the most efficient path. They planned to make it halfway through the second floor before falling back. They had been training for weeks on the outskirts of the spider-infested cave, but now they were ready to make a commitment. He was almost to the hobgoblin boss of the first floor when his rogue rushed up to him. ¡°Boss, you need to see this,¡± the rogue said, then showed him a jewel. Karius¡¯s eyes widened. He had been adventuring for years and had handled plenty of valuables. He guessed it was worth around 100 gold. But its value wasn¡¯t what surprised him. ¡°Where did you find this?¡± Karius said, picking up the gem and eyeing it closely. ¡°Sir, I found it on a goblin.¡± The first floor was largely thought to be lootless; no one had ever found anything other than the scraps of leather the goblins wore. It couldn¡¯t have been dropped by an adventurer, as only a true idiot would bring loot down into a dungeon, and as far as Karius knew, there weren¡¯t any truly idiotic adventurers. Some cocky ones, sure, but this was unusual. ¡°Report this to the guild on the topside after our delve. They¡¯ll want to know about this,¡± Karius told the rogue. ¡°Yessir!¡± he replied. They easily beat the floor boss and were about to continue on to the second floor as planned when Karius noticed a smaller tunnel leading off from the main one. He ordered his party mates behind him and cautiously entered the tunnel. In his many delves, he had never seen this tunnel. He had thoroughly mapped out the entire dungeon, and he was completely sure this wasn¡¯t there before. Dungeons would change over time, sure, but new tunnels and loot in a matter of days? Something was off. After a few dozen feet, he reached the end. What he saw caused him to immediately order a retreat. A building, closely resembling a tavern, full of monsters talking and laughing in fluid common. This would need to be reported to the guild right away. 3. The dungeon experiments A nameless orc awoke from nonexistence. He didn¡¯t know who or where he was, but he saw all kinds of monsters around him with the same confused look on their faces. A band of goblins, a tough-looking bugbear, some of his fellow orc kin, a pair of gnolls, and a lone kobold all looked around and at each other with furrowed brows and contemplative eyes. He was in some sort of tavern made mostly of dark wood, but with a freshly lit brick fireplace in the corner. Several tables and chairs were placed around, and a set of stairs led to an upper floor. He was behind a bar, cups and mugs dotted around, kegs of strong alcohol filled to the brim neatly stacked behind him. Looking outside, he could see the tavern was in a cave, a small tunnel leading out. He tried to think back to where he was before this, but all he could remember was¡­ nothing. He had a strong inclination this bar was his. Almost on instinct, he picked up a cup and cloth to begin polishing it. He shrugged with a grunt. It didn¡¯t matter who he was before or even if he was someone before, now he was a bartender. And he had a bar to tend. A bugbear approached the counter, scratching his head in confusion. ¡°Uh¡­ hey Bartender? Mind gettin¡¯ me a drink? I think I hit my head real hard or something,¡± he said while eyeing a barrel full of mead. ¡°Sure. First round¡¯s on me,¡± the bartender replied. Bartender¡­ it was what he was and what he had been called. Bartender accepted it as a name; it was just as much a name as any other. And he had a feeling he wouldn¡¯t remember any other name any time soon. ¡°When you say you hit your head, I¡¯m assuming you mean you don¡¯t remember anything?¡± Bartender said while grabbing a tankard from behind the counter. ¡°Yeh, everything before now¡ªwell, there isn¡¯t anythin¡¯,¡± he replied with his thought process clearly showing on his face. ¡°Call it intuition, but it probably isn¡¯t going to come back.¡± Bartender filled the tankard, then slid it across the bar to meet the bugbear, who picked it up with a shrug and looked at his reflection in it for a few moments before drinking. Most of the other monsters, identical looks of confusion on their faces, followed the bugbear¡¯s example and began drinking. After a while, they all seemed just as content talking and sipping as he was serving, all sense of confusion having disappeared. As the night went on, if you could call the darkness of the cave night, sobriety became an ancient myth. The patrons were quite rowdy. A hobgoblin insulted an orc¡¯s mother, and after a few moments of sadness because said orc couldn¡¯t remember his mother, a fight broke out to protect her honor wherever she may be, the other monsters betting on who would win. But no bad blood could be kept, it seemed. And before long, they were all back to laughing and chatting. Everyone had gotten over not having memories and seemed intent on making new ones as quickly as possible. Being the only one sober enough to think straight, Bartender was left alone with his thoughts for the most part. Most of everyone was too intoxicated to walk even to the bar, so he began to ponder. Why did he exist? He didn¡¯t have any memories, but he did have knowledge. He didn¡¯t even know where he was, yet he was content staying. His only explanation was that either he owned the bar and his memory was erased, or he was created just then with this purpose. Either way, Bartender didn¡¯t mind. He was more than content to work the bar. Which brought up other questions. But before he could think to answer them, he saw a figure out the window moving up the tunnel leading to the tavern. Bartender moved to alert the bugbear, who seemed to be a guard of sorts. But before he could even reach him, the figure was gone. Bartender would keep an eye on that tunnel.
Jared observed as all he had planned came true for the most part. He hadn¡¯t expected orcs to be so protective of nonexistent mothers, but he couldn¡¯t complain. Not when everything turned out so well. The previously vicious monsters were now docile tavern-goers. And from the various conversations they had, Jared could tell they were far more intelligent than the normal variants. Other than a few problems caused by some of their mouths, they all spoke fluent Common. What surprised him the most, however, was how well they had taken to the tavern. He tried to make them as sentient as he could, and as far as he could tell, it had worked. But he had never created sentient creatures, so he didn¡¯t know how content they would be waking up with no memories in a tavern. But they seemed to be more than fine with staying there. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. He might reveal himself to them later¡­ but for now, he had more pressing matters. Apparently, there weren¡¯t many dungeons like him, or at least ones that could adapt as fast as he could. The delvers had seemed surprised by the sudden appearance of loot. He doubted the leader was standing there gawking because of the value of a gem. And the sight of the tavern sent them running. He highly doubted they would be scared of a few monsters. From the way they effortlessly slew through the First Floor, Jared guessed they could make it pretty far into the Second. He needed to know more. Jared had come to this world and acted without gathering any intel. Perhaps he thought he was familiar enough with D&D, which this world seemed to take heavy inspiration from, to not need any, but here was a massive gap in his knowledge, and he wanted to fill it. He hadn¡¯t thought about it much, but he was in danger. He had a core, he could overexert himself. And in D&D, if it has stats, it can be killed. Even with a truck flying directly at him, Jared didn¡¯t fear. The only feeling he had was regret. He wished he could¡¯ve made a difference. But now, he had power. He could tell stories he never could have dreamed of back then. Make changes in people¡¯s lives that really mattered. But he was still mortal. He could lose it all. And in that moment, Jared felt a desire he never noticed before: he wanted to dig deeper, to bar himself from the world above. He seriously considered it for a moment but decided otherwise. It just wasn¡¯t who he was. He wanted to have an effect on others¡¯ lives, and he couldn¡¯t do that if he was bored stiff and locked up in a room somewhere. But he would need to be safe about it. He needed information. He needed a spy on the outside.
The more Jared thought, the more he knew he didn¡¯t know. It scared him how little information he had gathered. He had jumped straight to expanding his dungeon without even testing his limits or understanding any of the outside world. Now it was time to change that. Since his rebirth, Jared had only tried to narrate creation. He was curious if he could narrate actions. Finding a bat on the Second Floor that seemed intent on flying straight into a spider web, Jared gently spoke of it dodging to the side just before coming in contact with the sticky thread and instead flying to the safety of the First Floor. Just as was spoken, the bat evaded the web and navigated its way to the floor above it, found a nook in the ceiling, and landed there. It seemed he could narrate things other than creation. And as far as he could tell, it didn¡¯t drain him at all. Curious to test the limits of this newfound ability, Jared attempted something obviously impossible. ¡°The bat, having a new hiding spot, pulls out a Colt M1873 Peacemaker, firing nine shots consecutively.¡± He tried several variations of this: impossible scenarios, ones that would simply require nonsensical amounts of power, making monsters do feats of strength they couldn¡¯t naturally do. None of them worked, confirming his suspicions that he could only narrate things within reason. A bat flying around? Rocks falling to block a path? Creating new monsters? It was all within reason, for a dungeon. But anything absurd, like making a god goblin, making an orc punch a mile-sized tunnel, making a worm hold a sword, etc., were no-goes. He was curious if he could narrate humans, but if the logic followed, he couldn¡¯t. Even if he was in another world, he was still a Dungeon Master, in a sense. He made the dungeon for characters to delve into, he controlled the monsters for characters to fight, and if he guessed properly, players controlled those characters. Not him. Or, in other words, he couldn¡¯t narrate people. Although that did beg the question of if he could control the intelligent monsters in the tavern. He could experiment with that later. But for now, he needed to find the borders of his territory. He could ¡°see¡± as far as the tunnel leading above the First Floor, where his vision cut off suddenly. And from his various experiments, so did his power. He spoke of a goblin walking out of the dungeon, only returning one minute later. His goblin acted as he had spoken, carefully walking out, but returning only a few seconds later. He lost control of monsters beyond his dungeon. Although the goblin wasn¡¯t destroyed or prevented from leaving. Jared had an idea. He had created intelligent monsters before; all he needed to do was to recruit one as a spy. Even when he lost control, the monster could still act on its own. And would probably be compelled to obey its creator. The only question was what monster? He didn¡¯t want to use one of the tavern dwellers. They had a purpose already, and they couldn¡¯t pass as human. He instead had to create something new. He created a Doppelganger. They were humanoid monsters that looked somewhat like a grey alien, only a good bit lankier. However, once they saw someone, they could transform to visually appear as them. And they could even read minds a little. The only problem was how much they cost to make. When Jared narrated the spy into existence, he felt a strain almost comparable to respawning all the monsters on the First Floor together. Even if he had the energy to create a spy, they weren¡¯t disposable. Luckily, the cocky roguish adventurer had been quite powerful and covered the cost of creating his new spy. As the threads of magic appeared, then weaved themselves into the shape of Jared¡¯s soon-to-be spy, he couldn¡¯t help but be bursting with excitement. Jared had always been the one worldbuilding, and while he was more than content to do that, he also loved the idea of exploring another world. One not of his design. He wouldn¡¯t be experiencing it firsthand, of course, but that only improved it. He felt like the villain, commanding monsters and sending out spies. The Doppelganger took much longer to form than he expected, but it made sense that more powerful creatures would take longer to form or decay, since whatever magic he controlled had to condense further to form the creatures. The freshly formed Doppelganger looked around in the confusion that was typical with the intelligent creatures Jared made. It looked at its hands, the cave surrounding it, but something interesting happened when it saw a goblin. It almost liquified, its facial features disappearing completely and its entire body barely staying humanoid as it grew short and hunched over, solidifying again and turning green. It successfully transformed into an exact replica of the goblin it saw. Perfect. 4. The dungeon spies "So, this dungeon has been around for only a few months, yet it already has loot and a party of suspiciously intelligent monsters, none of which existed even a day before? That is quite odd indeed. In all my years, never have I encountered such a quickly evolving dungeon," said the burly, blonde Guildmaster. He had long hair, thick stubble, and impressive scars covering his muscular form. Even missing a few fingers and a leg, Karius knew the master could still give any unsuspecting adventurer a thrashing. They had known each other for years, and Karius felt duty-bound to accept when his old adventuring friend called in a favor. "Yes, Valecor. It frightens me how quickly the dungeon changed, quite literally overnight," Karius explained, with equal amounts of concern and curiosity hidden behind his experienced face. "You said this was a newly formed dungeon, perfect to train the coppers, but I highly doubt that now. Something about this dungeon... it''s different." Guildmaster Valecor let out a hearty laugh, shaking various items on his shelves and desk with the sheer volume of air released. "''Different'' is quite the understatement! A dungeon that evolves in 12 hours... this, my friend, is the discovery of a lifetime. Finally, something different," he said with relief and excitement. "Sadly, the Empire would certainly throw me in the deepest prison they have if I kept it from them. I''ll send a letter to the Capital Guild. They''ll probably send out a research team once they receive it," he sighed. "And what will we do until then?" Karius asked, already guessing and dreading the answer. Valecor was an incredibly skilled and experienced adventurer but had a bad habit of throwing himself into reckless situations, losing more than a few appendages, and being prohibited from adventuring as a result, thus becoming a guildmaster. "Why, we''ll adventure, of course. The newbies came here for training, and that''s what they''ll get." Karius closed his eyes. "And what about safety?" he asked, already expecting Valecor''s response. "The dungeon is only a few months old, Karius. Even if it is evolving oddly fast, we can still more than handle it. And, it''s weird to say, but I don''t think this dungeon is all that hostile." Karius gave him a dumbfounded look. "What do you mean?" "Dungeons usually only add loot in the deepest floors to lure adventurers down, where they can entrap and kill them. But this one added it on the First Floor. Isn''t that weird? It had the power to add more monsters, dig deeper, but instead, it decided to reward people for delving. It might be part of some grand strategy to earn our trust, but I think there''s a lot more to this dungeon than just evolving quickly. Friendly dungeons do exist, however rare they may be. The larger a dungeon grows, the smarter it becomes. If it gets large enough, we can negotiate with it. But this one is acting as if it¡¯s already intelligent, perhaps already trying to negotiate, making the first move by offering us coin. There are a lot of unknowns, sure, but I¡¯m confident in our strength." Karius sighed. "You make a decent point, however much it pains me to admit." He stood up and gathered his weapons. "When will the research team arrive?" he asked, hardly believing he was going along. "Usually a few weeks, sooner if they think profit is involved," Valecor said with a devious smirk, standing up in return.
"Milord," began Jared¡¯s spy, having reached his core room and leaned on one knee while bowing his head. "I have gathered all the information I can in the town." Things played out mostly as suspected. Jared had no control over his Doppelganger spy, but he was strongly inclined to accept his creator¡¯s commands and words as dogma. After creating him, Jared equipped him with the leftover gear of the cocky rogue who had fallen victim to his spider¡¯s poison, which luckily covered most of the spy¡¯s inhuman face, at least until he could transform human in appearance. "And what were your findings?" Jared replied, sending his thoughts directly to his mind. "It¡¯s a rather small town, built entirely around Your Majesty. Hardly a few months old," the Doppelganger said, moving his head as low as he could without falling over. "I estimate less than one hundred people, the vast majority of whom are male. It seems to have been built with the sole purpose of supporting adventurers diving into you for experience," he said, trying to keep a straight face but failing and showing a small amount of anger. "Raise your head, Finnel. You have done good work and fulfilled my commands faithfully," Jared interrupted before he could continue. Leaving his first servant without a name would be deeply wrong, so Jared had named him after the apparent norm. "And the guild?" Raising his head, Finnel continued, "As you predicted, my Lord, they exist and I falsely allied myself with them." "I am proud of you, my creation. You have skillfully demonstrated your talent," Jared told him. The Doppelganger had accepted Jared as his god, even though he knew that he was merely a dungeon. Although it wasn¡¯t entirely inaccurate¡­ Jared did create him. "As your reward, I may give you any one thing within my power. Just as long as you dutifully fulfill your purpose as you have today." If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. "Then¡­ Milord, if I may be so bold¡­ may you grace me with thy name?" the Doppelganger said, once again bowing low. Jared almost instinctively replied with his previous name; it was still what he called himself. But ¡®Jared¡¯ didn¡¯t seem fitting for a dungeon. After thinking on it for a few minutes, with Finnel working to keep from falling over, Jared arrived at an answer. "I am DM." The satisfied Doppelganger got up and moved for the exit, but stopped short of the door. "Thank you, DM," he said, then left Jared alone and headed for the outdoors. Not that Jared couldn¡¯t still observe and communicate with him. He had decided to bring Finnel to his core room as a sign of trust and respect. Even if his creations were inclined to follow his orders, Jared thought it best to maintain a good relationship with his servants anyway. He thought for a while. Jared had been doing a lot of that lately. His purpose, his reason, why or how he was here. No one had come to him and explained what he was here for. He only had the knowledge he acquired in his previous life to guide the way. But the more he thought about his situation, the more it made sense. He was a dungeon. That much was obvious. What was a dungeon? It¡¯s a place for adventurers to dive in for loot and experience, usually to assist with some greater goal¡ªa demon lord, a big bad, revenge, whatever it was. He was only a component in a grander story. Jared always imagined himself a storyteller. As a DM, he had been fascinated with making a grand series of events and allowing his players to experience them. Then, he was in control of the entire story, dungeons and everything else. Now, he was only in control of part of it. But that part was real. In that moment, DM decided that he would fulfill his role to the best of his ability. He would become a great dungeon worthy of heroes adventuring in.
Jared had left the tavern alone for far too long. It was only a couple of days, sure, but the sooner he communicated with them, the better. Jared didn¡¯t know how isolation from him would affect his creations. Perhaps the reverence Finnel had for him wouldn¡¯t have been the same if he hadn¡¯t contacted him right away. Since he was already appearing to Finnel almost as godlike, Jared decided he¡¯d keep it the same with his first sentient monsters. While he did not need a physical body to talk with his spy, Jared thought it better to have one if he was going to appear to a large group of monsters. Suddenly plugging into their heads might startle them, and even if the chance was low, it wasn¡¯t a risk he was going to take. Searching his memory for the perfect monster, Jared created a Shadow. They were unintelligent monsters akin to ghosts, physical, three-dimensional representations of a shadow, almost like a mist strong enough to strangle someone. They were perfect for Jared. He didn¡¯t need a strong monster, and he couldn¡¯t control a sentient one. What he did need was something mysterious, something that could talk, and something that could reasonably be the avatar of a god, or just a powerful dungeon. His idea was to create said Shadow and dress it in an outfit, akin to wizard robes, that would cover all of its body except some of its face. This way Jared could control it, and it would feel ancient, powerful, and its face never known. The classic representation of a godlike being. The only problem was the robes. Jared had been pleasantly surprised with how many things he could create. He had highly doubted he had the power to make creatures with a soul, but now he had made many. He had made gold and jewels, loot. Perhaps clothing was no different? There was only one way for him to find out. He narrated a fine set of flowing blue robes, to be held in by a thick leather belt. Then another robe, vibrant red with golden lion designs, would be placed on top of it. Jared didn¡¯t have any particular meaning behind it other than it felt grand and elegant. The magic weave appeared and knitted his Shadow, but to the joy of Jared, it wore the robes as he described. The creature made a clear attempt to escape them, but Jared took control before it could.
Bartender and the other monsters had been doing the same thing they did on the first day: drinking, sleeping, laughing, and the occasional light-hearted fight. It was an oddly enjoyable routine. Somehow the monsters didn¡¯t need actual food to survive, nor did they ever die from overdrinking. They seemed to be living off the alcohol itself. It was an endless cycle that none of them got bored of. Never once did they consider leaving, and until that moment, none had entered. But now one did. They saw him entering through the tunnel, a robed stranger, but unlike the strangers a few days before, he didn¡¯t immediately exit. Instead, he walked¡ªor perhaps floated would be a better term¡ªacross the cave and into the tavern. Everyone had gone mostly silent for his entrance, eyeing him with curiosity. He moved over to the bar and took a seat. All the other patrons shrugged and went back to their eternal festivities. Bartender tried to get a look at his face but saw only darkness. "Would you like anything?" Bartender asked, inspecting the same tankard he had been polishing for days. "Your finest," he replied, putting a silver coin on the table. Bartender poured him a cup of an especially fruity and flavorful mead. After a few moments of silence while the stranger drank, Bartender spoke, "Do you ever wonder what the meaning of life is? Why are we here and all?" The robed man chuckled, finished his mead, and then said, "That¡¯s quite the humorous question considering the circumstances, not that you knew. But yes, I do. And I think I¡¯ve finally reached an answer. Although it is far different from yours." "And what is mine? You sound as though you know. It would put ease to my unresting thoughts to know," the orc asked. "Yours is to tend this bar, as you already are. To any other, it would seem torturous, but you seem to have taken quite the liking to it." The mysterious figure replied. And he must¡¯ve read the expression on Bartender¡¯s face because he followed up with, "And you want to know who I am, correct? I am DM. Your creator." The chatter among the other patrons stopped for a moment, everyone looking closely at the man, but they all went back to their discussions in a few seconds. "And you¡¯re also wondering why I came here, yes? I thought it wrong to leave you without answers to the questions I¡¯m sure you¡¯re asking between drinks. But before I may answer them, I¡¯d like to say a few things. This tavern is inside of a dungeon. I am the dungeon core. I decided to make this place and everyone in it to give adventurers a chance at respite, and perhaps to earn some coin while at it. And also, I apologize for not coming earlier. Now, any thoughts you want quelled?" Bartender stayed quiet for a minute or two, contemplating what to ask. "How many are there?" "Hmm?" "How many others, like us I mean, are there in your dungeon?" "Right now, only one. But soon there will be many." 5. The Dungeon refines The First Floor was clearly a cave. Barely inhabited, filled with goblins and now some loot. The Second descended deeper into the dungeon. Darker, more populated, more dangerous. Spiders and bears roamed it freely, allied by the Core¡¯s magic. Further down, Jared¡¯s labyrinth opened up into a much larger cavern, a ruin and its gate built into the far end marking the Third Floor. Past the gate, a maze-like ruin of aged stone and older skeletons. The first creation since Jared¡¯s reincarnation, Floor Four held a special place in his heart. A deep river filled with mermen and various types of tropical fish flowed through cavernous tunnels where it thins out to a stream and flowed to the soon-to-be Fifth Floor, armored crabs defending it along the way. Everything was, quite obviously, cave-themed. With the exception of the undead-infested ruin, it was all bare rock and stone with monsters you would expect to live underground. One thing that really interested Jared was that ruin. Not only did it have some interesting systems around it, but it was also very different from the rest in almost every aspect. Although the transition between the grey wall and the moss-infested brick was smooth, it did stand out a lot. It was the bottom and most advanced floor before Jared added anything, and perhaps he should have continued to build more mazes instead of another cave, but there was no point in regretting the past. He could make it work. When building dungeons, theme is key. Sticking to a particular theme is always a good idea rather than adding whatever cool ideas you have into a single location and making a chaotic mess where players are confused and have no idea what¡¯s going on. Although that doesn¡¯t mean you can¡¯t have cool ideas, that would be very annoying for Jared considering he had one. Between the several days Jared had been playing around, contemplating life and observing adventurers, he had also been imagining potential lore for his dungeon. Just like a lack of loot, a lack of lore is a war crime of D&D, although much worse. The only reason he hadn¡¯t added any yet was because writing lore takes time and a lot of thought. But now he felt like he had a good enough idea to start implementing it. His idea at a basic level was that many centuries ago there was a cave-dwelling civilization that had built a city in what is now the Third Floor, and they were quite successful. But sometime after the founding and construction of that city, Jared decided to call it Delga, an apocalypse of sorts occurred. Monsters appeared at levels never before seen and stormed Delga mercilessly, forcing the population to flee deeper into the cave complex without even enough time to properly move their gold. The apocalypse was more than just monsters though. Whenever a person was killed, their corpse would be utilized to create undead, which would join the monsters and defend the place they died protecting. The civilization fled farther and farther down, seeking refuge behind the walls of larger and larger cities. Each time they would fail in stopping the apocalypse, and more undead would join their ranks, the great cities and strongholds they built falling into ruin. This was all incredibly surface level, but the sooner he could add it, the better. This way Jared could explain the style of the dungeon so far, the system of turning dead adventurers into skeleton knights for the Third Floor, all while building massive ruins, plenty of loot and monsters, undead mini-dungeons, etc. staying consistent with the lore and theme the whole time. Jared had an idea for the Fifth Floor that he was very excited to build, but he thought it necessary to first refine the previous floors in accordance with his newfound history. Nothing much would need to be changed, he had been building his story around the floors which were already there, but some writings here or style changes there couldn¡¯t hurt. The first two floors wouldn¡¯t need to be changed much. Besides adding a few signs of camping and a carving or two, the first floor was left untouched. On the second, Jared made a small mine. The Second Floor was rich in ores, so it made sense to Jared that people would take advantage of it. Delga was definitely the floor that he changed the most. Jared added text along the walls, sculptures, fallen gear, as many pieces of civilization past as he could place. Jared decided that the Marrow King, the boss of the floor, was actually a literal king before the apocalypse killed and corrupted him and wrote inscriptions into his armor accordingly. The Fourth Floor was¡­ interesting. The mermen Jared had created were not sentient, at least not in the way Finnel or Bartender was, but they had managed to create a city of their own. It wasn¡¯t complex by any stretch of the imagination, closer to an underwater hunter-gatherer tribe than the village outside, but still impressive considering they didn¡¯t have souls. Jared would keep an eye on them. Like the first, Jared didn¡¯t change much. Jared hadn¡¯t been doing much the past couple of days. Since the last delve, adventurers hadn¡¯t come into his dungeon, so he didn¡¯t spend his energy replacing any fallen monsters. He had quite the store built up that he wanted to spend, and he thought he had the perfect thing to throw it at. His Fifth Floor would be the largest yet, and probably for a few levels in the future too. The stream of the floor above would flow into a lake surrounded by hills and mountainous terrain completely shrouded in darkness. In the center of the lake would be a castle, one of its towers piercing the ceiling and leading to the Sixth Floor, whenever Jared made it. The mini-dungeon on the lake would be the only part of the floor that would be lit, and even then only slightly. It would be manned by ghosts of the people which the apocalypse killed. In the darkness outside the fortress, Shadows and other creatures of darkness would lurk, ambushing any unlucky adventurers who didn¡¯t come with torches to light the area. With his energy stores, he could carve out the majority of the floor, although it would take a while to finish it completely. He had gotten through about half of it when, for the first time in a few days, he felt a tingle.
¡°This tunnel, right?¡± Valecor asked, peeking his head around the corner. ¡°Yes, a few hundred feet down is the tavern,¡± Karius replied. Valecor signaled for the copper adventurers to stay behind and hold a defensible position while he, Karius, Farris, and Marike crept down the entrance. ¡°You weren¡¯t lying, eh¡­¡± Farris said. ¡°Me and my crew came down here a few days ago, didn¡¯t see this.¡± Before them stood the wood structure Karius had seen before. The same monsters laughed the same way. Everything was exactly as it was before, concerningly so. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Karius looked over to the wizard in the group, but Marike¡¯s eyes were already glowing faintly as his hands formed complex shapes and he chanted in whispers. ¡°It¡¯s not an illusion or magical in any way my spell can detect.¡± ¡°Are you sure? Nothing mind-affecting?¡± Valecor sternly asked. ¡°Nothing abjuration, conjuration, divination, enchantment,¡± Marike continued to list every school of magic. ¡°Why mind specifically? There haven¡¯t been any reports of psionic monsters.¡± ¡°You¡¯re just out of school, kid, even if it is a prestigious one,¡± Valecor lectured him. ¡°When you adventure as long as me or Karius here, you develop an intuition of things. How strong a monster is, whether a smith is giving you a good deal or not, if a fellow adventurer plans on shanking you or not, whatever the situation is. But I ain¡¯t getting a bad feeling from this, which is, quite obviously, odd.¡± ¡°Interesting¡­¡± Marike said, pulling out a small notebook and writing. ¡°Do you know how you could efficiently develop intuition?¡± Marike dropped his pen and paper after he was smacked by Farris. ¡°You¡¯ll have plenty of time to learn after this, lad. We have bigger problems ahead of us.¡± ¡°That hurt, you know. You¡¯re wearing a metal gauntlet,¡± he complained while picking up his stuff. Karius sighed. ¡°Alright Valecor, I trust your gut. Everyone, lower your weapons. I¡¯ll go first, then Valecor, Marike, and Farris as our rearguard.¡± Valecor nodded and got into position. ¡°Alright. Marike, I want you to cast Shield on yourself. If this is an ambush they will target the weak link first. Farris, I want you to prepare Detect Good And Evil.¡± Nods of agreement all around, then they started the short march to the tavern. Their eyes going dry while they refused to even blink, watching each and every shadow for even a hint of movement. A few agonizing seconds later, they arrived. They had seen nothing in the shadows, no traps could be viewed, no magic detected. Karius was only a few dozen feet away from the bar now, and he could see clearly inside. Monsters, all at least vaguely humanoid. All monsters he had killed dozens of times before. Goblins, orcs, kobolds, all defining his experience with them and acting human in nature. If they looked like people, even if only visually, he wouldn¡¯t be able to tell the difference. Marike¡¯s eyes were wider than Karius thought possible. Karius could even see him holding back the temptation to take out his notebook. Everyone was holding their breaths when they all stepped through the door. No traps were triggered, no ambush was enacted, no monsters even looked at them angrily. They looked¡­ curious, but only for a moment. The party had only been standing there for a few seconds, scanning the room both visually and magically, when the creatures one by one looked away and went back to drinking and playing unfamiliar games. Only one figure still observed them, that being an orc behind the bar. ¡°By the Heavens¡­¡± Farris stared in disbelief, having triggered his spell. ¡°Valecor, they¡¯re all good. Not a single one of them has fiendish intentions¡­¡± ¡°I can see why you needed to report this immediately, Karius. The entire town will be on lockdown once they find this,¡± Valecor said, just as wide-eyed as the mage had been. ¡°Can I get you a round of drinks? The first one is on the house,¡± the bartender orc asked them with a completely calm tone, none of the typical monster accent audible, as if he had been expecting them for days. Even with how many dungeons they had under their belts, with how many hours they had spent killing foes, Valecor and Karius couldn¡¯t seem to speak. ¡°I underestimated just how surprised you would be. Although I do suppose you don¡¯t encounter people like us often, tis reasonable under further thought,¡± the orc said to them, picking up a tankard and polishing it. People¡­ that¡¯s what they were? Everything Karius knew about monsters was just turned on its head. In action, they were indistinguishable from people. They moved like them, they sounded like them. Karius almost expected that this was all a weird dream that he would wake up from at any moment. ¡°Who¡ªwhat¡ªhow even are you!?¡± Karius blurted out, stunned. ¡°Who am I? I am thoughtful, I am curious, I am logical, I am helpful, I am fulfilled. What am I? I am an orc, born in full form with the soul of a man. I am a bartender, made to run the tavern. I am a creation of the dungeon. How am I? That I cannot fully figure out,¡± the orc put down his tankard and stroked his bearded chin. ¡°If it is a name you seek, I am Bartender.¡± ¡°Are you some kind of riddle-giver?¡± Vale asked, calming his surprised emotions. ¡°Do I seem to speak in riddles? I must apologize. When you are left only with your thoughts, you tend to think deeply. And when you think deeply, everything becomes like a riddle.¡± Farris put his hands together and quietly prayed, then a faint golden magic circle encompassed all of the adventurers and the bartender. ¡°A truth spell? I do not mind. I have never spoken a lie, nor did I ever plan to.¡± The barkeep picked up the tankard once more and began polishing it further. ¡°He didn¡¯t resist. He cannot lie while in the circle,¡± Farris told the two warriors. Marike, finally succumbing to the desire, pulled out his dirty notebook and began frantically taking notes. Valecor took a deep breath and let it go in a sigh. ¡°Do you, or any other creature here, harbor any ill intentions toward us?¡± ¡°Not currently.¡± ¡°Who made you?¡± ¡°The Dungeon.¡± ¡°Why did it make you?¡± ¡°To assist adventurers with the enemies of the Second Floor by providing alcohol and antidotes to the spiders'' poison.¡± ¡°Are your products harmful?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°How much is a beer?¡± ¡°4 copper pieces.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll take 4.¡±
There would never really be a reason to bring coin into a dungeon. It would clink around, take up space and weight, and just be an all around inconvenience. So Karius was quite surprised when Valecor produced enough cash for an antidote and a round of beer. Even though he was cautious, if only because Karius forced him to be, he trusted his gut more than anything and had a ¡°feeling¡± he¡¯d need cash. Valecor was, of course, the first one to taste test the beer. And so far, a few hours later, he wasn¡¯t dead. So that was a good sign to Karius. Everyone except Marike had sat down and talked with Bartender for a while. Marike had been going around the room pretty much interviewing each person in the inn. Although he reported that they basically all had the same story, that being none at all. They had woken up one day in a tavern and decided to stay. It was all fascinating. Sentient monsters¡­ unprecedented. Karius vaguely knew of the larger dungeons being intelligent, but unlike Valecor he had never been to one. But even the guildmaster was stunned by genuinely friendly and helpful monsters. According to him, the only logical reason a dungeon would spend the extra energy to make a sentient monster would be to make it a floor boss or just a really strong enemy. Although even then most stayed away from it because they could rebel if they decided to. The inn had a calming effect. Karius hadn¡¯t worked all that hard to get here, the new adventurers he was training cleared out the first floor. But even then he could feel whatever minor aches and pains fading away. If he wasn¡¯t as cautious as he was he¡¯d find it funny that it actually had the opposite effect mentally. The idea of a dungeon going out of its way to make friendly monsters and assist adventurers seemed like a trap, yet it didn¡¯t seem to be. Perhaps he would make his mind up on the intentions of the dungeon later, but right now he was gathering ask much information from Bartender as he could, or try to anyways. ¡°So, this dungeon is only a few months old, and yet it acts and thinks on a level of one that¡¯s a few hundred years old. And you, a creation of said young dungeon, don¡¯t know how?¡± Valecor asking the orc in a much more friendly tone than he did a few hours ago. ¡°I was created here, and I haven¡¯t left this spot. I presume it¡¯s because he made me that way, content to do nothing but serve fellow monsters and adventurers alike. He did appear to us once, however he asked us not to share with you any detail of that, and I fully intend to follow his wishes.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t blame you for that, eh?¡± Farris chimed in, not having touched the beer Valecor ordered for him. Not to Valecor¡¯s disappointment though, he seemed quite happy to drink another. ¡°I tend to think following your creators wishes isn¡¯t a bad idea¡± Farris said with a chuckle, inspecting the amulet he wore over his shining armor. ¡°So, to rephrase all the information you¡¯ve given us. You just suddenly became conscious a few days ago with no memories and a sense that you owned this bar, you just¡­ accepted that and served alchohol to the the patrons who never get full or just simply die from drinking too much of your drink. In fact, the whole place is magical. It heals wounds and tiredness, the alchohol magically refills every 24 hours, same thing with the antidotes. Then after a day or two like that, your creator shows up in some way you can¡¯t tell me and informs you of your purpose, then we show up?¡± Valecor gasped for air as he insisted on saying the whole thing with just one breath. ¡°Correct. Now, you have queried me for a few hours now, and I do believe I should ask some questions of you as well¡± bartender replied, still polishing the same tankard he had been polishing for the entire conversation ¡°what is your town named, how many people live there, how long has it been there, what country does it rest in, who owns and/or runs it, and how many adventurers are there.¡± ¡°Woah there, that¡¯s a lot of questions¡± the guildmaster said, likely buying time to think Karius thought. Valecor took another large breath ¡°Duton. 3 months. The Ebonreach Empire. it is run by the Adventurers Guild, but since I¡¯m the local guildmaster I act as the mayor. around 10, 14 including us, but we are more like teachers for the new adventurers. Although I doubt this will be a training dungeon for copper level adventurers much longer¡­¡± ¡°I presume you imply that our existence will cause unrest in the ¡®Adventurers Guild?¡¯ Bartender put the tankard down and looked directly at Valecor for the first time since their arrival ¡°very well. Let them come.¡± 6. The dungeon doesn鈥檛 like repetitive titles Bartender took a sip from his newly concocted brew. Lemon and apple... not the best tasting, but good enough for his first go at it. While he was plenty content polishing the same tankard for days on end, it did get boring occasionally. So, he had started brewing his own mead using ingredients found around the tavern. They were created by DM to be sold, but the Dungeon probably wouldn''t mind if he used a few. The orc looked over his counter and around the tavern. Besides a few recent events, it was the same thing every day. Tavern-goers drank, they played games, someone lost and started a fight, but in the end, all bad blood was made good again. Anyone else would''ve been bored out of their minds, but not Bartender. This was his home. He had only been alive for... a week? Whatever amount of time had passed, he savored every moment. That''s how he was created, but even if he was born normally, Bartender was sure that he''d end up in a situation like this eventually. Deep down, it''s who he was. A familiarly robed figure approached as he lifted another gallon of experimental brew onto a shelf. ¡°What can I do for you, DM?¡± Bartender returned to his normal position behind his counter. ¡°I presume this meeting has something to do with the encounter earlier?¡± ¡°Somewhat,¡± DM''s shadowy form replied. ¡°I''d like to speak with you privately.¡± He motioned toward the tavern door. ¡°Are you sure we can''t just speak in here?¡± Bartender grabbed his polishing tankard, now reflective as a mirror. ¡°I''m sure they won''t eavesdrop,¡± he motioned toward the crowd, ¡°you created them, after all.¡± ¡°Very well, you do make a good point,¡± DM said. ¡°I came here to compliment your performance during the interaction a few hours ago, and to make you an offer.¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± Bartender expected him to come; that was the first time he had ever spoken with anyone outside the dungeon, but an offer was interesting. ¡°You did entirely what was expected of you,¡± DM sat down and picked up a drink. ¡°Some very useful information was revealed to me during that conversation. However, what surprised me is how you took some initiative, which should be expected, I suppose, but I am used to things I create being entirely controlled by me.¡± He held his tankard out and Bartender poured him some wine. ¡°You''re naturally a leader, and I want you to embrace that,¡± DM said. ¡°Perhaps lead a battalion of monsters, maybe even rule over an entire floo--¡± ¡°Would it require leaving The Tavern?¡± Bartender set down his polishing tankard, leaned on the table, and stared at DM. ¡°Yes, it would,¡± DM answered. ¡°Then I refuse.¡± Bartender wouldn''t leave the tavern, at least not without a fight. It was quite odd, though; DM created him this way, so he should know better than anyone. ¡°Are you sure?¡± DM returned his stare, not that Bartender could see his eyes. Bartender nodded. DM sighed. ¡°Very well, then.¡± He put down his cup and left, leaving Bartender to tend the bar. He wouldn''t have it any other way.
Well, that pretty much confirmed it. Sapient monsters, when left alone even for a day, had far less allegiance to Jared, to the point of flat out denying his requests. It was the expected outcome, but still worth testing for. There were a few other things he was curious about. How would the dungeon react if a sapient monster rebelled? Would the other monsters consider it hostile and attack? While Jared was curious, he also hoped he would never find the answer. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Jared mostly put on a show when he talked with Bartender, but at least one thing was true. He had learned a lot of useful things from his conversation with the adventurers. If they could be taken at their word, which was reasonable to believe, especially since they had a paladin, then he knew how long the town built around him had been standing and how many adventurers could delve into the dungeon. What was most concerning was whatever ¡°unrest in the Adventurers Guild¡± meant. From their reactions, during the entire time he had been around, had been that of surprise. Some of the adventurers seemed skilled, so it definitely wasn''t a lack of experience leading to their reaction. No, it was Jared. He would''ve liked to be able to prepare a bit more before attracting attention, but it was too late for that now. As the saying went, out of the frying pan and into the fire. The progress on the Fifth Floor was going as expected. Jared had mostly finished carving out the area and was now filling up the water portions. It surprised him how much energy water took to make, at least in large amounts. The river of the Fourth couldn''t compare to the volume of an entire underground lake and he was feeling it energy-wise. It would be wise to keep a reserve of energy, especially with unknown threats on the horizon. It would slow down progress on building floors, but in an emergency it would be worth it. With a mental sigh, Jared held back his production of water. Even though he had completed carving out the Fifth Floor, Jared still felt like he had energy to spare. Looking back at it, when the adventurers were in The Tavern Jared felt an increase in energy generation. It made sense; in most stories dungeons passively generated energy when adventurers were present. But the odd thing was when Finnel entered the dungeon, he felt the same energy increase. Finnel wasn''t alone, though. Alongside him were two of the adventurers who stayed behind and didn''t go to The Tavern. Jared didn''t know their names; they were pretty unremarkable, a cleric and an archer. They cleared through the First Floor with some difficulty. Finnel adjusted to his role as a roguish fighter well, even more so considering he was created only a few days before. He dodged attacks well, and even if he wasn''t doing that much damage, he was distracting foes and hitting weak points. Perhaps simple monsters were more capable than Jared thought... Finnel blended into the shadows, sneaking away from his party who were collecting loot. He made his way to Jared''s core room and struck a familiar bowing position. ¡°Milord, I have returned to you, albeit briefly I''m afraid.¡± ¡°That is fine,¡± Jared said, ¡°be brief, however.¡± The other adventurers didn''t seem to have noticed his disappearance yet. ¡°What do you have to report?¡± ¡°The settlers have accepted me as their own,¡± Finnel raised his head. ¡°I have found a ''party'' willing to ''delve'' with me. I shall not trouble you with their names, sire; they are far below you and of no importance. But that aside, are these terms unknown to you? I had not, and I feared for my cover when they were surprised at the fact, but they seemed to have believed that I am merely foreign.¡± ¡°I know them well. Please, continue.¡± ¡°I should have expected no less.¡± The doppelganger stood up. ¡°Just before I came here, the Guildmaster gave an announcement in reference to your other creations, milord. He laid out two rules: that no adventurer may attack the residents of The Tavern unless provoked, and that no adventurer must venture past it.¡± It made sense. If you came upon an unprecedented sapient dungeon, it would be wise not to provoke it. ¡°Is this all?¡± ¡°I''m afraid not.¡± Finnel turned his head down and frowned. ¡°There have been rumors, prominent ones, that a special force from the Guild Headquarters has been sent to investigate you and will arrive in a few weeks. The Guildmaster here has done nothing to deny them.¡± That was troubling news, but it was expected. ¡°This troubles me, but it should not trouble you. You have done well. Continue with your duties as you have until now.¡± ¡°I deserve no such praise, milord. I am doing naught but keeping my ears open.¡± Farewells were exchanged and Finnel regrouped with his party without notice. Finnel stayed toward the rear of the party''s formation as they walked towards the exit. When both adventurers had left, Finnel turned around and bowed in the general direction of Jared''s dungeon core. Only when Finnel left did the increase in energy generation die down.