Chapter 3 - Hearth Attack

The dark dwarf made short work of the remaining rock. What would have taken twenty minutes of exhausting effort for Lupa, especially given how tired she was already, fell to his pickaxe in under five. Rook watched in amazement, wondering just how quickly a higher level minion would have made it through.

As the last of the rock fell away, warmth and light spilled into the tunnel. The scent of beer and roast meat made Rook’s mouth water. He licked his lips as he stepped into the hearth, reminded of some of the very best meals he’d had in his life: rare meals when purses came fat and he could eat at the greatest inns in the land.

And that’s what it was.

This was a room larger than the last house he’d been in, lit by over a dozen lanterns, and filled with aromas that would make a king sack his cooks and hire the tavern’s. It felt like the hearth was welcoming him home. Tables and chairs covered the floor, a welcome sight after the day he’d been through. If he did ever get more minions, it would be a good place for them to meet too.

He knew this place. There was only one tavern in the whole land that this could be: the King’s Crown on the outskirts of the capital. He’d been there once, in his youth, a year before his parents died and his world had turned to the nastiest grade of shit. And now, it was his. Or at least, a version of it was. It was a near perfect replication too; the only thing it lacked was people. With Lupa and the dark dwarf as his minions already, he wondered how long that would be the case.

A luxurious feast took up much of one table; three plates and two bowls of food set his stomach to growling like a bear. Even when his parents had gone to the King’s Crown they’d only managed to afford a beer and the cheapest food on the menu. This was the kind of feast he’d only heard of.

“What is all this?” he asked.

“Your hearth, Rook. Mistress said every dungeon maker’s hearth resembles their greatest desire.”

That certainly matched what he was looking at.

“And the food? Does the dungeon keep us fed?”

“No. That’s a dungeon maker meal, it refreshes at times. When Mistress increased her dungeon it appeared more regularly. I assume it’s the same for you.”

Rook grinned sardonically. It made sense that this was more of a treat than a reliable source of food. He couldn’t deny that he wanted it though, but nor could he deny that his minions would need it more. He looked from Lupa to the dwarf and sighed.

“Eat it,” he said. “You and… him. You’ve been working so hard.”

“But it’s yours, Rook.”

He held up his hand to stop her. “What? Because I’m the dungeon maker, the ‘Master’? Lupa, I might own this place, and I might even have to be your owner as far as the dungeon is concerned, but I’m not going to be some slave owning bastard. Not in more than name. And right now, I want you two to eat.”

He strode over to a table in the least lit area of the room, sinking into shadow in the way that had helped him survive as a sneak thief.

The only things left over from the treasure trove were two roughly circular stones with one side smoothed flat. They bore stylized pictures of rooms, the title at the top declaring what they were.

The first showed a group of rough looking beds in a room with a wall that had shelves. According to its text, this was a dormitory. Rook guessed that he could sleep in his hearth, it wouldn’t be the first time that he’d fallen asleep in a barroom after all. The dormitory was likely intended for minions, though he supposed there was nothing to stop him sleeping there.

The second showed a blazing fire in an open hearth, the smoke feeding into what looked like a chimney. Over the fire a series of rods held pots, hanging roasts, and more. Even without reading the title, this was obviously a kitchen, good for preparing food but it didn’t remove the need for him to obtain the ingredients in the first place. Rook had never been much of a cook and wondered if either of his minions were.

“Eat.”

A black hand pushed a piece of bread towards his mouth. It was dripping with thick, creamy sauce and smelled of mushrooms and chicken pieces. Rook looked up from the stones and saw Lupa sitting beside him, a bowl of soup and a large bread roll in front of her.

"I’ll be fine,” he said. “You two need this more than I do.”

“We’ve eaten. This is what’s left. Now, you need food too, so eat.”

He chuckled. “I thought you said I was the master, that I give the orders?”

She looked uneasy for a moment. “I thought you said we should speak up if you give us an order we didn’t like.”

For several seconds, they stared at each other. Finally, Rook gave in, opening his mouth so she could place her offered morsel inside. It was delicious. Bread and soup had never been so tasty in his memory. The taverns he had eaten at sold soup that was watered down so much you could barely taste whatever meat or vegetable they’d been able to spare.

“Thanks,” he said.

She tore off another piece of bread, dipped it in the soup until it was soaking, and raised it to his lips. Obediently, Rook opened his mouth again, sucking the savory juices from the bread. On a whim he pulled her hand closer, engulfing her fingers along with the tasty treat. She shifted uneasily as he let go of her hand.

Rook grimaced in shame. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I was just playing around.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s just…” She stopped mid-sentence, biting her lip as she fell silent.

“Tell me,” Rook said.

“It’s just… don’t you like me?”

“What do you mean?”

“That’s the first time you’ve touched me. And even that was… just…” She looked down, seemingly unable to say more.

“Lupa, what are you talking about? I held you when I found you ed out from exhaustion.”

“I know but… you haven’t USED me.”

“Used you? Dear gods, what do you think I AM, Lupa?”

“A dungeon maker. And I’m your minion. It’s one of the things we’re for… unless you don’t like me.”

Rook put his head in his hands and sighed deeply. Just how obscenely had the bitch of a so-called Mistress treated her? A slave, a whore to use whenever the dungeon maker wanted. He felt sick.

“Lupa,” he said slowly, trying to find exactly the right words. “It’s not that I don’t like you. You’re probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, but that is not how things will be here. I know that to keep the dungeon working for you, I have to call you a minion, a slave, property even, but that’s as far as it goes.”

She stared at him as if he was speaking a language she didn’t understand.

“Look, you can have sex with anyone you want, as long as they are interested too; but this idea you have that I just get to do whatever I want to you or any other minion? You have to let that go, Lupa. I’m sorry you were treated like that before, but that’s over. You’re my friend more than a minion, and an advisor I already trust. And anyone else who s us will be treated the same. Do you understand?”

She shook her head. “Not really, Rook. You’re strange. That’s not how this is meant to work, but…”

He gave her a moment to compose herself and continue, but she said no more. He probed further. “But?”

“But maybe the idea feels good. Wrong, but good.”

Lupa stared at Rook, cocking her head to the side as she considered his words. He let her process it for a moment before turning attention to the stones.

“I take it these create the rooms in their pictures,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Good. I think these are obvious. Kitchen for food, and dormitory for sleep, right?”

“For humanoid minions to sleep in, yes.”

“Oh?” He ed her mentioning dragons when they’d spoken before. “What about non-humans?”

“They have their own rooms, like a crypt for undead or a pen for beasts.”

That made sense, Rook considered. “Okay, and do I just focus on where I want them to appear?”

“Well, yes,” said Lupa. “But you need to tell Veslingr where to dig a space for them first.”

“Veslingr? Is that the dark dwarf’s name?”

“That’s right.”

Rook reached out with his awareness skill to the land around him. The soil and rubble of the tunnel had given way to solid gritstone. Lupa could never have made her way through it, but Veslingr? It would take time but given what the dwarf had done with the tunnel…

Level gained: Awareness Level 12.

You now have the ability to examine your own skill list.

He sucked in a deep breath as the words faded from his vision. Even after witnessing several increments, the way his awareness skill presented information about skills and levels was a problem. It didn’t just obscure his vision for a moment, it took him by surprise each time.

“My awareness just went up again,” he said. “Apparently I have a way of checking my skills?”

“Yes, you should be able to just look at yourself and see every skill you have. As your awareness rises you will be able to become aware of them instead of needing to read them.”

That, he had to it, would be useful.

Rook lifted his hands before his eyes and studied them. At once, a list of skills, their levels, and a brief description filled his vision. There were hundreds, thousands maybe. From tiny things like “mushroom identification” to major things such as “hiding in the shadows”. He spent a little time looking over the list.

His best skill was “safe landings”, already at 67. He wasn’t sure if there was a maximum value, but that would certainly explain how he had fallen so far from the cliff while racing through the woods and not died or broken anything. Most useful skills were still low, some with very sarcastic comments after them. When he saw his “sexual intercourse” skill was only 5, and informed him that he could probably stay aroused for at least a minute but shouldn’t trust any partner who says they enjoyed themselves he quit using the skill. What the hell did they expect? He was a virgin until four days ago!

“Okay,” he said, trying desperately to think of something less demeaning. “I think I’d like to have them lead off from the hearth since these are living spaces. It means if anything goes wrong even those of us who are making food or sleeping will be right here for protection.”

“Okay,” said Lupa. “I’ll ask him to do that.”

“The next question, is how do I get more treasures. Do I just wait for Veslingr to find new troves?”

“NO!” said Lupa. “They’re very rare. He might find some individual treasures, but probably not many more treasure troves if any.”

“Then what do I do?”

“You can buy them from other dungeon makers,” said Lupa. “That’s part of why Mistress made friends with some of the ones who lived far from here. So they could help each other. There’s also a traveling trader who comes through this area once a month. The best way though is to have your minions make them.”

“You can do that?”

She shook her head. “Some drow can research them, but they’re not very good at it. You want the right minions and the right rooms. Witches cast spells to find minion cards in a magic circle. House sprites, like boggarts, are good for trinkets or blueprints. They use a workshop for their research. Oh, and room cards come from some types of elemental, in an elemental chamber.”

Rook sighed. “I don’t have any of those, Lupa.”

“I know, but the trader should come though tomorrow. I think that’s the right day. I don’t know where Mistress met him though, just when.”

“In other words,” Rook bit his lip. “I have to go back to the surface world and find him, and convince him to sell me treasures when I don’t really have anything to offer, all in one day.”

“Yes,” said Lupa. “That’s right.”

“Will this ever get easy?”

She shrugged. “If Mistress could do it, you can, Rook. You’re better than her. Nicer anyway.”

“Well at least ONE of us feels confident,” he said. “Do you think you can get Veslingr started on digging the rooms. I need a little time alone to think about things.”

It wasn’t all bad, thought Rook. He had somewhere to hide out and just make necessary forays to the town or woodlands for food and supplies. It would be good if Lupa or Veslingr could help him, but the dwarves and elves he’d seen on the surface world looked very different. It would probably just make people suspicious of him. Still, with a safe base they had time.

A voice came from down the tunnel, muted enough by the distance that he guessed they were in the cave. Not that that would help much. It was too small for them not to find the tunnel, and once they did it would lead them right to the hearth. He couldn’t hear what they were saying yet, but it didn’t really matter. Anyone discovering this place was a danger to him and to his minions.

As he left the hearth, Rook tried to work out what he had that could help him. He’d been a fool to rest before using the blueprints and could only hope he had enough time to drop the dark fog before the invaders found him. Invaders. That was what he thought of them. It was hard not to after Lupa explained that other dungeon makers would want to hunt him down and that losing his hearth would kill him. He couldn’t safely interpret anyone in his cave as anything else.

By the time he neared the tunnel exit he heard what they were saying.

“What makes you think he’d be here?” That was a gruff voice, deep as a mine pit and hard as coal.

“It’s a cave,” said a softer voice, slick with the refinement of a scholar. “It’s somewhere to hide.”

There was a chink of metal, a pause, and the gruff voice spoke again. “What’s this? A collar and chain?”

Rook cursed his carelessness once more, knowing that by not removing that from the wall he’d left proof of his presence. He was much closer now, and could see the glow of lanterns from the cave. He reached for the “Dark Fog” blueprint and focused on it as the pair continued to debate the likelihood of finding him.

“Someone was here,” said the scholar. “I think that’s obvious at least.”

Rook looked up at the tunnel entrance and the lantern light disappeared behind the blanket of darkness he’d just placed. He was no skilled swordsman, but if he could surprise them then at least it gave him a slight chance.

“What happened?” asked the gruff voice.

“What do you mean?”

“The back of the cave just got darker.”

“It was already dark.”

“To you, human. We might not see as clearly as elves, but I could see a little. And it just got darker.”

Rook cursed silently. They wouldn’t see anything in the fog, but they knew to expect something dangerous if they explored further now.

“You’re right,” said the scholar. “If I raise the lantern it doesn’t light that area. Looks like a powerful darkness spell.”

“From a cutpurse?” asked his companion. “Are you telling me this guy’s a mage?”

“I don’t know, but maybe we should just go tell the ArchDuke what we found. He can risk his own men to capture this guy, it’s him who wants the thief dead, after all. He’ll be bound to reward us anyway just for finding him.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it. Besides, the ArchDuke is the nastiest bastard in the damn kingdom. If he thinks we let him escape it’ll be our necks on the chopping block instead of this fool’s. No, just get ready.”

Footsteps approached the tunnel. Rook drew his sword and waited. The first invader to exit the fog was a tall man in the kind of robes Rook saw magic apprentices from the capital’s college wear sometimes. He thrust his sword forwards at the man’s chest. It sank in with a satisfyingly wet sound and he dropped to the ground with a scream.

Level Gained: Swordfighting Level 9

You to stick ‘em with the pointy end slightly more often.

“NOT NOW!” Rook yelled as the words blocked much of his vision. He moved backwards, trying to remain ready as they faded.

Level Gained: Dungeon Maker Level 2

You gain 10 health points, 2 mana points, 1 attribute point and 4 skill points. Please select the attribute you wish to apply the point to:

Strength: 7

Agility: 21

Dexterity: 28

Vigor: 11

Reasoning: 6

Intuition: 12

Willpower: 18

Charm: 22

“OH, FUCKING GODS, NO!” he screamed, scampering backwards.

The amount of writing he saw obscured everything, rendering him essentially blind. There didn’t seem to be any way of getting rid of the text except, he assumed, by choosing an attribute to increase.

“Gotcha, you little bastard,” said the gruff voice.

Rook panicked, running backwards into the unseen until he hit something soft, a person he realized, and collapsed to the ground with them. The feminine cry of pain told him it was Lupa. Now she was in direct danger too.

“Strength,” he said, hoping it would help him. “And all skill points into swordfighting!”

The writing disappeared in time for him to see a dwarf in sturdy leather armor raise a battleaxe over his head and scream a war cry. Rook was out of time, and this guy looked deadly. Even adding a few more points to swordfighing wouldn’t be enough, especially with him lying prone on top of Lupa.

But there was one thing, he realized.

One thing he could do that might work.

He pulled the “Standard Chest” blueprint from his pocket and focused on it. A second later he looked up, directly above his foe, and the chest appeared at ceiling height. The heavy wooden container crashed down on the dwarf’s head, smashing him to the ground with a fatal crunching sound. The impact splintered wood beyond use, but that was nothing compared to what it had done to the dwarf.

Level Gained: Sneaky Bastard Level 64

Unconventional ideas for attack and defense come ever more naturally to you.

Rook laughed, partly with relief and partly because he had to it, that was a fair comment. Slowly he eased himself off, then turned to Lupa to help her too.

“Why did you come out?” he asked “You could have been hurt.”

She shrugged. “You could have been killed.”

He wanted to tell her not to risk herself like that, that if he was the dungeon maker it was up to him to defend the place. One look at her face, lips tight and eyes narrow with grim determination, told him he’d be wasting his time. He’d lay down his life for her if need be, for Veslingr and any other minions too, but he got the feeling that would be mutual.

"Il genp vithe is il bes eth hsege."

Rook looked up to see Veslingr standing next to him, holding out a new minion card. He had no idea what the dwarf had said, but assumed it was something about the proffered treasure. Rook took the card, said “Thanks,” and realized he wouldn’t be understood.

“Lupa,” he said. “Can you tell him thanks from me.”

“Yes, Rook.” She turned to the dwarf. “Rook tihoes vull.”

The dwarf nodded and grinned. As Rook looked at him, he realized he was bleeding a little from a wound not covered by the poor quality leather he wore. That could be solved easily, he realized.

“Tell him he can have the armor from the dwarf invader.”

"Rook tihoes vy nethh dise dsapoy opt dheyfe dhthisht,” said Lupa.

Veslingr looked from Rook to the prostrate dwarf and beamed broadly. He said something Rook assumed was a thank you and immediately began to remove his leathers. Rook had never seen anyone as comfortable being naked in front of others as his minions were. He’d also never seen a man built like THAT either, he thought as Veslingr pulled off his pants.

“He’s not a dwarf EVERYWHERE then,” he said, looking away in embarrassment.

“You’re silly,” Lupa said, and then tittered sweetly. “That’s what dwarves are like - shorter than a human, bigger than a troll.”

“I see. Actually, I have a question.”

“Yes?”

“Why is he wearing clothes at all? I thought you said minions are naked.”

“Most of us are. Fae, goblins, ogres, witches, most undead, beasts, drow… we’re all naked. But some, like agents or dark dwarves, wear clothing to fit their jobs.”

“Ah, so it’s just a general rule. Got it.” He paused, looking at the minion card Veslingr gave him. “Actually, mentioning agents. That’s what this is.”

“Oh, they’re useful,” said Lupa. “They’re humans who help in the surface world. Mistress had several.”

Rook immediately performed the summoning, eager for whatever assistance the agent could provide. A young woman appeared before him, dressed in a street-soiled tunic and skirt. She was short and plump with light skin and matted blonde hair. Filthy as she was, the pickpocket wasn’t the most attractive person to start with, and the way she kept looking around suspiciously only made her appear less pleasant.

“Oh, she’s a—”

“Pickpocket,” interrupted Rook. “I know the type. I’ve BEEN the type.”

The woman looked at him as if estimating whether he was a threat or a target. He strode across to her and stood with his feet apart and hands on his hips. If he was right about her, she would respect strength more than friendship. A friend could betray you, someone strong might be a shield.

“I’m Rook,” he said. “This is my dungeon and you’re one of my minions. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want, or leave, but if you stay here you do what I tell you, okay?”

The woman nodded slowly. She didn’t speak, and he didn’t expect her to. Right now, she was in a new area with unknown people and no information on anything. She was almost certainly so afraid that she’d lie if he asked something as simple as her name. That was fine, he could deal with details like that later. Right now, he needed to show he could provide.

“Good. We’ll get along just fine I think. Now, I think there’s still a little soup left over in the hearth so come and eat. After that, we’re all going to get some sleep and tomorrow… tomorrow you’re coming back to the surface with me. You’re going to make things a LOT easier.”

What piece of extra information would you like Rook to learn while exploring the surface world? (top vote will be selected)

6 votes · Closes Oct 29, 2026, 6:34 PM (4 days from now)

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