Lewd Dungeon, Chapter 401

Chapter 401 – Arrival

(Swamptown)

Three months. The journey across the continent of Regandi from Palerre in the Anfelon Confederacy to Nighthold, capital of Knightmarch, the dungeon city-state that had taken over the former Vinastran capital of Aquilis City and all the lands within a day’s ride of Nighthold’s walls, had taken three months. They had not traveled without rest, of course, and they had certainly not spent precious coin on luxurious airship travel, but they had made consistent progress towards the city, using minor jobs along the way to help fund their trip.

Rhys Lunaleaf smiled as he led his party through the portal in the Temple of Kuronoth into the strange world his Lord had come from. They could have spent some of the money that their mysterious sponsor had given them for the quest they’d received back in Palerre to speed their travel, but Merewin, his lovely High Priestess of Selphie, had reminded them that they did not yet know what manner of troubles they would face within the dungeon. While they had no doubt that the information could be found, with help from the local Adventurers Guild, in whatever form it took, Earth was only newly reintroduced to the System. Even if they had crafters who had managed to get to Tier 2, the number of them who had access to enough Tier 2 materials to do proper crafting for equipment of their level was likely to be small. They may have to go to the System Shop for some of the gear they might need. It was better to suffer a slightly longer trip than to find out that they could not afford proper protection for the dungeon’s dangers.

Rhys made a point of never arguing with someone who had the Wise One title. Especially when they were right. That was why the only member of his party who did not have a profession which added to the group’s self-sufficiency, or offered ways to help everyone outside of combat, was Danyll, the Shadowblade / Master Assassin. The darkeye addict was hardly suitable for carrying out mundane, noncombat tasks, after all. However, so long has he had some of his drug, he was a stone cold killer, while also being extremely pliable to his demands.

Not that any of his party could really be anything but pliable to his demands, at this point. As a True Dominator, he had worked hard to ensure that all five of them were completely devoted to him, beyond the influence of the Thrall title. It had taken work to ensure that none of them grew jealous of the others, and the attentions he gave them, but it had been more than worth it, in the end.

Of course, keeping them satisfied also took work. The Tome of Kuronoth made certain to emphasize that point. True Domination came not from the boot on someone’s neck, but from maintaining a relationship where you could take the boot away, and the servant would still gladly do all you ask, not out of fear of the boot, but because they had been molded to the point where they wanted to serve. However, that state was not static. One had to put in the effort to make the thralls feel valued, at least to some degree, in their service.

Letting your servants feel unvalued, unneeded, or unwanted led to doubt, and doubt was a gap in the armor of your domination. There would always be those who sought to undermine your domination of your thralls. However, a thrall that was well-fed, content, and felt valued by their master? They would not listen to the subversive whispers. A thrall that was hungry, left wanting, and felt ignored, however, was fertile ground for rebellion. Thus, the true path of domination lay not in breaking resistance and rebellion, but in ensuring that resistance and rebellion had no space to grow in.

Rhys waited until his party had completed the translation, looking around the large room he stood in as he did so. He knew that he was in his Lord’s realm, as it felt the same as in the Temple of Kuronoth. But the building was different from what he was used to. Smooth walls and floors made of some substance that looked as though it were all one piece, not stone bricks or slabs, even where the walls met floor and ceiling. And it did not look as though the cracks were simply plastered over, either, for such techniques had their own traces.

It was more than just alien construction that caught his eye, of course. There were more portals in the room, each with a line of Dungeonscript above it, translating into his own language different names. Looking above the portal that he had just stepped through, he saw ‘Bluemountain’ in that Dungeonscript, so they must be the names of different planets. Each one connected by portals, all bastions of faith in his Lord. And through each portal, he could see humans, Atlanteans, and other species coming and going in a steady stream of commerce across the stars. A humbling sight indeed.

Emblema, his Mystic Spelldancer and Greater Courtesan, placed a gentle hand upon his shoulder, rousing him from his reverie. Her eyes turned towards a set of stairs with the word Earth written above it in Dungeonscript. The name of the world they were on, his Lord’s homeworld. “Master, I am as impressed as you are at the sight of this complex. However, we should see to securing information about the Lord’s dungeon and possibly lodgings for the night.”

“Yes, thank you, Emblema,” he nodded, before heading up the stairs marked ‘Earth’. The stairs had a metal railing running up the wall, and on the other side, and the stairwell was made with the same seamless design as the room they’d just left. Even in dungeons, he’d only seen such things when the floors were carved from actual stone, and these surfaces did not look like any kind of stone he’d ever seen before.

On the next floor, there were more portals, and far more people moving about. Most of these people looked to be humans, though there were others who seemed like parodies of different alien species out in the world, like the group of not-knelfi who he watched move briskly from the ‘Japan’ portal to the ‘Sweden’ one. So, perhaps this floor was for portals leading to different countries on Earth? At the far side of the massive room was a doorway which simply had ‘Swamptown’ written above it. That ought to be the way into the dungeon town that had set up around his Lord’s dungeon.

Just as interesting as the strange architecture was the reaction the people had to their presence. Or, rather, the lack of reaction. On Bluemountain, at least on the continent that had until recently been kept without any of the technology the wider galaxy possessed, aliens would have cause a great deal of a stir. Here, though, despite humans being in the clear majority, the only looks they got was due to the foreign look to their clothes, and the beauty of his women. It was almost like being back in Anfelon.

Outside... well, it became clear which buildings were made by the Dungeon, and which ones were not. Most of the buildings were short, boxy things, that reminded him of children’s toys where the child slotted together existing pieces to make a larger construct. A few looked to be built by a carpenter’s hand, but most looked to be made of some form of brick that did not look to be stone, though it was rougher than the material used in the portal nexus, or the building that was clearly the entrance to the dungeon proper. Looking the other way down what was clearly the main street, he saw what was obviously a church, and what looked like the descriptions he’d heard of spaceports from those who had gone to Bluemountain City before. He’d never seen one in person, but that ought to be what it was, right?

“Well, you look a bit lost. First time to Earth?”

The voice had the dual-layered tone that spoke of the cheaper magical translation spells, which just overlaid what was said in the listener’s native tongue. Rhys looked, and saw a man dressed in shirt of chain links with leather underneath, and carrying a weapon that looked like a mage’s staff with a silver mace head at the top and a long cutting blade on the other end. Some kind of battlemage class, no doubt. And given the quality of his gear, probably a well-practiced one, at that, though he doubted the man was as powerful as his team. Almost certainly an adventurer.

“Yes, you could say that,” Rhys said, seeing no reason to be rude or secretive with the man. After all. “We’re adventurers, from Bluemountain, and picked up a quest that involves going into Lord Kuronoth’s domain, the Forbidden Chambers of Exotic Pleasures dungeon. Would you be able to direct us to the local version of the Adventurers Guild, if a branch exists here, and someplace where we could stay the night, as we make our preparations for the delve?”

The man nodded once. “Ah, good, you’re taking the dungeon seriously already, despite being followers of the ‘Demon of the Dungeon’. Most off-worlders who come here either think that, because they’re higher level, they don’t have anything to worry about a dungeon that is barely a couple galactic standard years old, or they have the misbegotten belief that praying to their Lord Kuronoth will ensure that they have an easy time of it. Those types quickly learn, and the lucky ones manage to escape the dungeon with their lives, and without being sentenced to the Breeding Halls until they’ve helped replace any monsters they killed in the dungeon. The fact that you’re already expecting that you’ll need to prepare is a good sign.

“That said, my name is Peter Franks, and I’m the head of the Swamptown Branch of the Florida Region of the American Adventurers Guild. Haven’t gotten to the point where we have a guild that goes world-wide, yet, but the official guilds work together and share information on different things. The Guild branch, if you’re wanting to visit now and check the latest information on the dungeon, is the red building over there, closest to the dungeon entrance. The green one opposite the main street, there, is a local recruiting office for the US military.”

Peter pointed out the two buildings (both made with the strange bricks) with the mace head of his staff as he spoke, and then turned to point at another pair of buildings, both made of wood, and one being one of the few structures that rose over a single story in the town. “That’s the Blind Hog Tavern, which would be the town’s main watering hole and what passes for an inn, here. You can also rent some of the smaller cabins that you see around town, if you want a bit more privacy, or are thinking of more long-term occupancy. The blue building across the street right there is the main rental office.”

Looking back at the group, Peter said, “Now, I’m sure you’ve noticed that this is all inside the dungeon’s domain. Good news is that, so long as you’re inside one of the buildings, unless you go talking about something stupid, like threatening the dungeon, the Demon of the Dungeon will ignore any plans you’re making. He’s on record saying that part of the enjoyment of seeing adventurers in his halls is finding out what they’ll do, so he doesn’t ruin things by listening in on their plans. He also doesn’t automatically snap up unattended items in town, so you can set your gear down in your room, and then go off to take a bath, or just get a drink at the tavern, and it will be there when you get back.

“Bad news is that, since we’re in a dungeon’s aura, we’re not technically part of any nation, here. Mostly. That’s still being argued over in the courts. Point is, the only laws that matter here are dungeon laws, and what you have the ability to enforce on your own. Though the Demon of the Dungeon has cracked down on off-worlders trying to bully the locals before. Even manifested his avatar before, to keep some bounty hunters from dragging a man into the dungeon with them against his will, even though he wasn’t a Slave, or otherwise under their control.”

“That’s good to know,” Rhys said. “I guess we’ll go to the Guild, first, and then see about a room.”

“Excellent,” Peter nodded. “I was just heading back, after a meeting with some of the local high-rankers, talking about what has been going on in the deepest floors. Walk with me, and I’ll tell you what I can.”