DUNGEON KEEPER
Death to the High Lords, Part 1:
Don't Fear the Reaper
The hunched figure of the Mentor, Asmodeus, flickered between light and shadow as he shuffled down the passageway towards his master's domain, a leather tome under one arm, and an ever-writing quill in his free hand. He did not know what he was going to tell Flamuli when he reached the Dungeon Heart. Perhaps he could lie. No. The Master would see right through him. He had a knack for that.
The throbbing that hummed from the Dungeon epicentre grew more intense as he made his way up the central passageway. Imps ran round his feet in legions, fluttering past his black robes. He kicked out at one that got too close, knocking it against the wall. The imp got up and stared at Asmodeus who glared back. "Yes? And?"
The imp squinted and realised who he was staring at. It hobbled off quickly, waving it's pick-axe in the air with frustration. There was a whooshing noise, and the imp sped off to whatever task Flamuli had for it to perform.
As Asmodeus approached the large wooden doors, they swung open before him, and there stood the Dungeon Heart. The sound of it's beat was intense now, hammering against the Mentor's ears as he approached the steps that led to the pit which contained the membrane that dragged in all the magical energy in the chambers around it. Imps tended to the Heart's care, seeing that the support struts that surrounded it were kept clean and free from damage. They dare not go near the heart itself, knowing that they would be absorbed and crushed into oblivion, their magical resonance becoming part of the flow into the heart, feeding their master's power. Asmodeus approached without any such trepidation. He was the only being immune to the Heart's powers, having been granted special permission to enter his Master's domain.
He climbed down into the pit and stood on the centre of the membrane. It felt loathsome beneath his boots, a horrid squelching sound accompanying his attempt to keep his balance. He waited for the horrifying sensation that went with being effectively swallowed by the heart to the chamber hidden below. He could feel his feet sinking in, swiftly followed by the rest of his legs, then his waist and torso, and finally his head. He closed his eyes at this point.
He always expected to be covered in some sort of foul gunge when he emerged on the other side of the bizarre portal. Instead, he floated down to the bottom of an extremely dim single chamber. The walls were decorated with skulls, much like the lairs his Master built for the creatures that were lured to this subterranean realm. Otherwise the walls were fairly plain. The real marvel of this chamber was what was directly in it's centre, the very essence of what the seemingly fragile membrane of the Dungeon Heart was protecting; Flamuli himself.
The swirling body of crimson energy, held within a man sized crystal container, formed itself into a vague face shape, it's eyes glowing to afford emphasis for Asmodeus' benefit. Asmodeus bowed before his Master, his face solemn.
"What news do you have for me, Asmodeus?"
Flamuli's voice had the quality of a snake, it's rasping hiss echoing slightly in the chamber. It had a deadly quality, a malice that was hidden behind it's quietness.
Asmodeus composed himself. He never had got used to that voice. He was lucky that he served so successful a Keeper, one who had put paid to the Avatar two years before, and King Reginald the Just the following year. His plans to invade the Uplanders on their own turf required him to bring the notorious Horned Reaper to his side permanently, but the location of the deadly ally's home had proved elusive for some time. Asmodeus knew that Flamuli would not be pleased with the news he had to give him.
"Quite a few magical items abound, your Lordship," said Asmodeus as cheerily as he could manage. He decided that stalling was better than lying, especially if he used good news to stall with.
"I no longer require such fickle items. My libraries are crammed with such fodder! Have you found the Horned Reaper's temple here?"
Asmodeus bowed his head slightly in an attempt to hide away the look of shame on his face. "No, master."
The distorted face behind the crystal remained unmoving. No mouth could be seen amongst the grotesque features, just the eyes, which seemed to glow much brighter than before. "Asmodeus, I am growing rather impatient at your lack of results."
"That is to be understood, Master, and I also understand your wish to bind the Horned Reaper to our cause utterly, however…"
"Don't tempt your destruction, Asmodeus!" said Flamuli angrily, "I can just as easily get myself another mentor to see to my daily affairs!"
Asmodeus bowed low, his nose almost touching his knees. "My apologies, my Lord."
Flamuli nodded imperceptibly, something that was nothing more than an evil essence should not have been capable of doing. "I suggest we move from here. Make arrangements for a manifestation in the former Snuggledell. That seems a good place to start."
Asmodeus bit his lip and stifled an urge to leave the chamber hurriedly. "Other news has been drawn to my attention regarding the Sunlit Kingdom, my Lord, and you probably will not like it."
The ghost of a frown forced the slit like eyes of Flamuli to become even narrower until they could barely be seen. "And what is this news?"
"It seems that there is a group of Uplanders previously unknown to us who have arisen since the death of King Reginald. They call themselves the High Lords, and they have a grievance with you, Master."
"I'm surprised," said Flamuli, "If it were not for me, they would not be in power now."
"Indeed, my Lord, but they do not share the power they have gained. One of them has claimed supremacy and the title of Avatar, no less."
"The Avatar was a worthy adversary," said Flamuli quietly, "I doubt very much this upstart will give me any trouble."
"Nevertheless, my Lord, they have summoned an army unto themselves, and reclaimed the ruins of the settlements you ransacked. They claim that you are no match for their strength and wits, and that you will never claim the lands back as long as they live."
Asmodeus' words slowly dawned on Flamuli, but they only served to turn the deep red aura of his essence an even deeper shade. "I will not be referred to as a common enemy, I who have crushed whole continents with my powers and my armies! These so-called High Lords shall pay for their words with their lives! Make ready for our journey, but make it Smilesville. I shall enjoy taking their lands over once more. One by one."
An impossibly wide smile spread across Flamuli's spectre-like face. The challenge was called to his supremacy, and it had to be met so that he may keep his honour. Asmodeus bowed and said, "Whom shall we leave in charge here, my Lord?"
"Someone capable. Dekara the Mistress will do nicely. Have her sent to my chamber to receive her instructions."
"Yes, my lord. I remain your humble servant."
Asmodeus turned and made his way back to the centre of the membrane that dominated most of the ceiling of the chamber, giving it a strange, organic look. The Mentor waited with a little trepidation for the equally horrifying return journey to the Dungeon, a little smile playing on his lips. The short but sickly journey was made bearable by the fact that his Master was ready to move on once again. Their time here had been a pleasant but ultimately lazy one.
And he was desperate for something to do.
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