Dungeon Life

Chapter Two-Hundred Fifty-Six

The Redcap

The lanky fey takes in the details of the central kobold chamber, not especially concerned about the invaders currently in it. The Pantry has been breached, but the kobolds are still safe. He can see the loyal ones incapacitated in several ways, but they’re in no danger. If they’re lucky, the Redcap will be allowed to make one of them a hat, though come to think of it, he has plenty of material in the invaders.

A dwarf, an elf, some strange fluffy biped, apparently an escaped kobold, and a rat. Not exactly the most intimidating group, even if he can tell the rat is a Voice. What kind of pathetic dungeon has an ordinary rat as their Voice?

They all wear a strange make of armor, and though the Redcap can feel metal inside it, there’s not enough to get a grip on. He probably could, if he really tried, but it’d be like trying to grab a fistful of water. On the opposite end of the spectrum, the dwarf’s shield sings to him of strength and durability. He lets his affinity caress it, and is surprised to discover how staunchly it ignores him.

He doesn’t know what kind of magic could do that, and he even tests it carefully as he stares at the invaders. He could claim it, but he would cost the Great Maw too much for it to be worthwhile, especially with the interesting swords at the hips of the kobold and fluffy thing.

The scimitars are oddly thick, with deep serrations on the back. What kind of swords are those? They are interesting, different from the other blades the Redcap has forged himself. He wills the swords to himself, and frowns as they fail to react at all.

He can plainly see they’re metal, but his affinity finds no purchase in them? “What interesting swords. I’ll have to take a good look at them later.”

“I don’t suppose you’d let the kobolds go?” asks the rat, and the Redcap considers just ignoring it. However, the Great Maw is spending more mana than it’s recovering, so a windfall would be nice.

“No,” he answers simply, a hand flicking as he releases a long sharp needle to sail through the air towards the enemy scion. That one was inspired by an old elf he once saw. He doesn’t know why hers were so dull, or covered in thread, but he feels he’s improved on the design significantly.

The rat doesn’t even blink as the needle drifts to the side, missing both it and the kobold it's perched on, eventually embedding itself in the wall some distance behind them. The Redcap frowns as the rat smirks. He guided the needle perfectly straight, yet it drifted? If he had hurled a stone, he might believe he was mistaken, but he could feel the trajectory of the needle. It flew straight, it should have impaled the smiling rodent lengthwise.

He frowns as he is forced to shift his estimation of the invaders. They’re trickier than they appear. “Return to your burrows, kobolds,” he orders, his mind going over his armory of blades. Which to summon first?

His musing is interrupted by the enemy Voice. “Nova, now!”

The Redcap is already moving, expecting some strange attack from the rat Voice, but the danger comes from the very cave beneath his feet. Heat! So much heat! He calls forth a spiked chain, inspired by the thinlinks, and harpoons the nearest wall, letting him yank himself to safety. He would have tried attacking one of the invaders, but he doesn’t want to have his escape thwarted by the same thing that ruined his opening attack.

The floor he once stood upon explodes into heat and magma, causing the gathered kobolds to finally remember he ordered them to their hovels. They quickly flee as magma floods into the chamber, and the Redcap wonders if the invaders simply intend to completely fill it to kill the kobolds, and probably himself, too.

It’s not that simple, it seems, as the magma starts to mound up and form into a long and powerful shape. Four limbs lift a hulking body, two more limbs spread wide above it, one more whips around behind it. A long and thick neck takes shape, a head sprouting details as the Redcap watches in rapt attention. It roars like a volcano, and the Redcap is stunned by the realization of what it is.

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It’s the mystery sculptor! It works in magma, not stone, so perhaps he should call it a molder instead? He ducks under a swipe from a wing, his eyes wide instead of half-closed with disinterest.

“You’re the sculptor. I have your small kobold statuette. It looks like you’ve improved since you made that.” A flicker of motion has him summon a kite shield, just in time to intercept an obsidian-headed arrow. It shatters on the shield, though he can feel the weight of the skill behind it.

He’ll need to admire the dragon’s work later, it seems. The other invaders require his attention. He summons and releases a wide fan of knives, once again feeling the trajectories differ from what his eyes see. Some illusion, perhaps? Illusion affinity can be so bothersome, though it would explain the metal swords that ignore him. Why create them, though? Surely an illusionist would make them look like something other than what the Redcap has mastery over.

He may need to take this fight seriously. Unfortunately, the Great Maw doesn’t have the mana for him to truly take the fight seriously. It needs mana for orders, for spawning, for a multitude of things. It may be able to consume some nodes or possibly even a spawner, but such desperate moves should be beneath the Great Maw.

Fine. He shall test these illusions, starting with what may be an attempt to mask the metal in the dwarf’s armor. That he’s charging with a stone hammer held high makes no difference. He can feel the traces of metal in the odd armor he’s wearing, trusting more in his ability to direct his affinity than in his eyes, and pulls more of the Great Maw’s mana to attempt to crush the cackling dwarf.

He can feel the metal shear under his command, confirming it exists. Unfortunately, the metal lacks the strength to actually hamper the invader. As it nears him, he summons his own hammer, leveraging it around in a brutal and powerful arc… an arc that somehow feels longer than it should. His balance is off, and the head seems smaller than it should, but his attack still stops the dwarf cold. Of course, it should have smeared the bearded nuisance across the floor. Wild eyes gaze from over the shield as the stone hammer crashes into the Redcap’s hand. It stings, but isn’t seriously damaging. In fact, he would say the words from the dwarf’s mouth are more painful.

“An’ ‘ere I ‘eard scions were scary!”

Blue eyes in the blackness under a grisly hat narrow for a moment, before the Redcap recognizes an unexpected affinity. The dwarf clearly wants the Redcap’s attention, and even if that would be playing into the annoyance’s hand, he doesn’t have much other option. He has some resistance to mental attacks, thanks to the Harbinger, but he can’t let this dwarf build up an offense with that variety of magic.

“I will carve a masterpiece of pain into you, dwarf.” He doesn’t usually like abstract concept art, but for this opponent, he’s willing to make an exception. He summons a bladed chain, all the better to hinder and dice the armored beardy thing, and swings it in a few loops before bringing it down on his foe.

“Flay.”

The dwarf calmly steps back as a curtain of magma intercepts the chain. It digs deep into the sudden intrusion, and the Redcap can even feel it grab and pull at his weapon! He can feel the metal melt beyond his control as it sinks into the wing of the magma dragon, and he’s soon forced to relinquish the weapon so he won't be sucked in, too.

Even worse, a glowing orange arrow seems to simply sprout from his shoulder, pain echoing through his arm as a cry of “Trick Shot!” echoes around the chamber. He frowns at the arrow before pulling it free and snapping it. These invaders are much more difficult than he first thought. In his defense, he didn’t first think they’d have a dragon with them, nor that it would be the mysterious creator of the kobold statuette.

Hmm. The kobolds. He could win this battle if he drew deep on the Great Maw’s mana, but that may end up costing it the war. Though, if he loses, the Great Maw may lose, too.

“Great Maw, I need mana.” The dungeon is offended for a moment, before grudging understanding washes through it. A wide, jagged smile splits the darkness below the Redcap’s blue eyes as he nods.

“Of course, Great Maw. I’ll leave a breeding population. I’ll even make sure to return this wayward one to you, either to carry on her line, or for you to savor after we win.”

He feels for the nearby kobolds, for their chains. Most of them are down the tunnels and beyond his reach, but there are some with their hovels close enough for him to find them. He’d like to take his time, give each kobold his individual attention, but the invaders are already moving to press their attack.

They know precisely how precious the kobolds are. They’re here to steal them away, after all.

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