Chapter 4
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Notes: There are several.
First and foremost, Dungeon Keeper does NOT belong to me. It belongs to Bullfrog and probably a bunch of other people who are either too mean, or making too much money to share it, probably both. I mean no disrespect, and am making roughly $0.00 profit from this, except hopefully the praise of some bored readers.
Second, this fic is somewhat of a combination of Dungeon Keeper 1 and 2. This may be confusing for those of you who have played the game, but just think of it as DK 2 with all the creatures from 1 there.
The Keepers and creatures are based on the characters in the game. Most of the feelings, and concepts like the Shadowlands are strictly made-up explanations for little things in the game. In other words, this is a mixture of actual canon and some little fancies of mine, just like most fanfics.
Even though the game is not mine, the story is, and I would appreciate it of you did not use it without my permission. I think that's all, so on with the fic!
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Kaelay
This is not good. There have been too many sacrifices as of late. He must not know I can sense these things, or he wouldn't be doing them.
It's suspicious when any small Keeper makes mulitple sacrifices in succession. I myself make many, but my Dungeon is large, and I can afford it. Mortagui has a small dungeon, and should be keeping all his resources in case I turn on him; he's not an idiot.
He must be trying for a reward from the Gods. If he means to turn on me.... But why would he? He knows that he is not powerful enough. Does he think he has some other way of taking over? What does he know that my Darkness can't tell me?
This is frustrating. I take a small bit of comfort in the fact that he won't get much through his sacrafices. I make more of them anyway, so I will be in greater favor of the Gods than he. Still, they will most likely reward him with a highly experienced Bile Demon blessed by the waters of the Temple. Or perhaps more Angels. Either way, I must be wary.
The Red Darkness has informed me of a turmoil in the Shadowlands. This can mean one of many things. It is possible that a defeated Darkness is getting ready to return, or maybe another Keeper has found sufficient energy to summon Horny. It's hard to be certain. I must also watch this. I will be on my guard, for danger could strike from any direction.
Seiat
So this is the Green Dungeon? It's poorly designed. Many of the rooms are much too small. Only nine plots in the Workshop! How do the Trolls get anything done?
The corridors are long, and with few and flimsy doors seperating the rooms. I have a feeling that this keeper lets his Trolls get into the drink and gambling, because this workmanship is shoddy.
Also the Imps! Apparently Mortagui has no time to let his Imps train, for they are all level one and pitiful, scrawny little things. I am by no means a tenth level, or even seventh level Imp, but I can take comfort in being a third when all those around me are ones. He must lose so many of them when they break into an enemy territory. I almost feel sorry for them.
I'm losing him! I rush through the corridors, careful to be as quiet as possible. It would not do for Tarkasas to know that I am following him. He walks quickly through the empty hallway, coming into the brighter torch light of a Casino. Casino? Hm. Well, that's one way to welcome creatures to the Dungeon. Keeper usually puts a Training Room or Lair by the entrance, so that enemies are immediately set upon by her creatures.
We soon pass the lair. Though I am by no means impressed with this Dungeon, I am impressed with the lairs. Rather, I am impressed with the aesthetic effect, not with the meaning. The lairs are arranged withing the Lair according to type. All the Spider's lairs in one corner, the Flies and Fireflies in another. While this is pleasing to the eye, it has an ominous meaning. It signifies that the keeper here doesn't approve of inter-species mingling. He would rather they stay within their own kind. It is a foolish attitude, for creatures that don't live well together won't fight well together. But some keepers still harbor this attitude, sadly.
Keeper doesn't. Keeper would much rather we socialize, as long as it doesn't get in the way of our work. Keeper is kind, and generous. I wonder what will happen when the two dungeons mingle.
Tarkasas
At last, the Temple. It has seemed forever that I walked through this dungeon. He will most likely be here. I berate myslef for this thinking. I'm supposed to be checking out the ene- ...ally's dungeon configuration, but instead, here I am, mooning over some Dark Angel whose name I don't even know. Very well, I'll confront him, and then I can put this in the past.
It takes a minute for my eyes to adjust to the gloomy Temple. The torches within a Temple are not like the bright ones elsewhere. They flare with a calm, blue light which is very soothing, and pleasant, once the eyes are accustomed. The waters themselves produce a light of their own, as well as reflecting the torches. They glow with an eerie yellowish light that is the one indication that it is not ordinary liquid.
There must have been a sacrifice recently, for there are only a few Angels here. The others must be resting. First, upon entering the Temple, I kneel at the waters' edge and say a quick prayer in respect to the Gods. A Temple is a Temple, no matter whose. The only ones who do not pay their respects to the Gods among entering are the Imps, for they only owe their alleigance to their Keepers.
When I rise again to my feet, my eyes are fully accustomed, and I can see the movements of the other creatures. The only ones here are five Dark Angels, whom I judge to be about fourth and fifth levels, and two Ghosts, much weaker.
He is not here. But.... I walk to one of the Angels. He looks momentarily frightened, but then calms himself. It is understandable. I am an eighth level fighter, and he would be good to be wary of me.
"In the name of the Gods and my Keeper, I greet you," I say formally. He echoes my greeting, his eyes never straying far from the sword at my hip. "I wonder," I start, "if you know the name of a particular Dark Angel from your dungeon."
He doesn't quite frown. "I know all the Dark Angels. Whom do you seek?"
I take a breath. "I seek the Angel that came as an Ambassador to our Dungeon. He was about sixth or seventh level, I think. He also had a large scar accross his shoulder."
The Dark Angel nods his understanding. "That would be Ramasha. He is the personal Angel of our Keeper, Mortagui. Last I saw him he was headed over to the Lair to recouperate after this afternoon's sacrifice. He might still be there, if you hurry."
I bow and thank the Angel, then hurry off. He *is* here. I find it silly that I ever doubted that, but still... He's here! My heart nearly leaps out of my chest, and this frightens me. I am not by nature an emotional creature. I am a Black Knight, bred for killing. And yet this one Angel has caused such a deluge of emotions within me. I feel I can't breathe.
He is not there though, when I finally reach the Lair. A smirking Demon Spawn points me in the direction he went, but warns me that I probably shouldn't follow. He must be worried about the Angel. He is a very low level creature, and apparently can't sense exact levels of power. He must think that I am going to destroy him. It is reasonable. Due to the Knight's code of honor, if he had somehow damaged my honor, I would follow him to kill, regardless of a truce.
So I follow the direction indicated. The corridor is long and empty. I wonder what could be at the end of it, as disused as it is. I also wonder what Ramasha could be doing at whatever's at the end of it.
Finally, the corridor ends. There is no door; I've noticed a conspicuous lack of them in this dungeon. The corridor opens up into a small room, no more than nine plots square. It is a Lair, I see by the tiles. But why would there be a Lair so small all the way out here?
Then I see it. I only catch a glimpse of his back, but I am sure it is him. Ramasha. But he is not alone. I carefully hide myself from view around the corner, peeking just far enough to see what happens.
He is facing another Angel. It's not an ordinary Angel, I can tell. He appears physically to be just another creature, so much as any Angel is 'just another creature', but his aura....
His aura is much to powerful to be an ordinary creature. In a flash, I realize that what I am seeing here is the Keeper Mortagui possessing an Angel form.
What is he doing? My Keeper hardly talks to us without need, although she seems to know us all down to our souls. But the only time she ever possess us is when she needs to use our bodies for a specific purpose, or when she needs to rally the creatures for battle.
So I watch. Discreetly. They are talking about something. I strain my ears to listen, and catch bits of the converstaion. Mortagui is speaking.
"...rising.... again.... She.... know yet.... crush.... easily."
This is disturbing. I am sure there is a more logical explanation than the conclusion I'm jumping to, but I can't think of one at the moment. The only thought running through my head is 'he's going to betray us'. For a few seconds, nothing else registers in my brain. Until Mortagui speaks again, louder this time, so I hear precisely what he says.
"Now then, Ramasha. Let us celebrate."
Even though his back is to me, and even though he is speaking softly, Ramasha's reply reaches my ears without difficulty. "As you wish, My Lord."
My curiosity is piqued. I slide around the corner just a tad more, putting almost the entire room within my field of vision. I noticed then that the room was not as bare as I believed. Situated in the center of it was a large bed.
All of a sudden I have a horrible premonition of what's about to happen. My stomach flips, and I have to choke down nausea. It couldn't be? Could it?
But as I watch their lips meet, and their bodies tangle together, I realize that it could, and is.
Ramasha
This is by no means the first time this has happened. It started in fact, soon after I entered the alliegance of this dungeon. He built this room for this particular purpose, and he calls upon me whenever he feels like it. Generally whenever he's in a particularly good or bad mood. The bad moods are much worse; when Mortagui is not feeling well, I suffer.
He knows that I do not enjoy this. No creature could, for when our bodies join, there is an influx of power into my being akin to that when the Gods are not happy with a sacrafice. It burns the inside of my body, mind, and soul, but I endure it. He knows also that I will always do that. I am, for all intents and purposes, his. I would never go back to the Shadowlands in search of another portal; I cannot stand the Darkness. He knows this; I believe he enjoys weilding that power over the soul of another.
He is rough. Everything about the act reeks of wild abandon and rampant violence. Always the day after one of his "visits" I am covered in bruises, and more than once blood from several cuts. Even I, who have known no other relationships, know that this is not the natural way of things. But I know no better. This is what I have always been, and this is what I will always be.
The pain! The firey burning returns once more into my veins. I feel that I will pass out from the incredible sharpness of it, but that sharpness itself keeps me conscious. Finally, just when I think that I would rather die than endure any more of this, he pulls back, and the pain recedes. He kisses me, a bruising, merciless kiss that fits his style, then leaves.
He will take the Angel away and erase his memory before leaving the body; he wants no one else to see me like this, or to have the memories of me that he does. Can't say I don't appreciate that; I would rather as few knew the exact details as possible. Of course, all the creatures in the Dungeon know it goes on, but Mortagui is not so twisted that he would let others watch. He prefers that I am his, and his alone.
I lay there for a few moments longer, just recovering. Somewhere, in the part of my mind that still registers anything, I hear the pounding footsteps of someone running away. I am momentarily startled by this; was someone watching us? I decide that it couldn't be. My Keeper would have sensed one of his own creatures and shooed it away immediately, if it didn't run away before that. No, it was probably an Imp, I decide, coming to do some tidying up after he saw Master Mortagui leave, then running when he saw that I was still here.
I sit up wearily, and make myself presentable. I need to get back to the Temple. I should pray to the Gods. Maybe they will offer some comfort this time.
Oh God, that was hideous. Take me back.
or
Oh God, that was hideous. Let me complain to the author.