Dungeon Life

Chapter Two-Hundred Thirty



The Redcap

The unsettling fey scion oversees the excavation, his placid blue eyes at odds with the gruesome thing atop his head. He likes the shadow it casts over his face, though he needs to refresh it soon. This hat was a singular masterpiece, in his opinion, but time marches on, and this hat is spoiled now. Such is the ephemeralness of art, he supposes.

His eyes wander the workers, wondering if one of them would make a suitable hat. Unfortunately for the macabre artist, while the work goes slowly, none of the workers are slacking. He could make a hat anyway, but the Master would punish him for it. Wasting food, plucking it before it’s ripe, would be an affront to the master. He could hardly plead ignorance, especially not after dressing down the Harbinger not long ago for wasting food so wantonly.

Perhaps after the cave in is cleared? His lips curl into a smile at that. Yes, the material will no longer have an urgent task to do. He eyes the rubble and flicks a few blades where the workers have marked. Some cleave through the stone like it’s mere flesh, while others spear in to provide support. The workers resume their tasks, clearing what is now loose, and figuring out how to quickly and safely clear what is still supported.

It’s not the worker’s safety that the Redcap is concerned with, however. It is the safety of whatever the rubble has buried. The trainees have started their scout training, and two are missing. The Harbinger declared them dead, crushed beneath the stone, after personally examining the memories of the other two scouts. The warning about wastefulness was at least heeded, as neither of the two even had to be sent to the enclave for healing, but the Redcap thinks the two scouts are wrong.

He smells no blood here. Even through the rubble, he should be able to detect something, yet all is clean. The Harbinger, of course, argues they are buried too deeply, pulverized and perhaps turned to mud from mixing with the debris. The Master is uncertain, so has allowed the Redcap to dig for the remains.

He hopes to find nothing, and so prove the Harbingers incompetence once again. First, it failed to take the surface, even after petitioning to only use its vaunted least for the campaign. How it expected to be victorious while leading things literally called Least, the Redcap will never understand. Second: it wasted the potential of the first trainees, not even doing anything with the bodies. Such a waste for them to all be relegated to fertilizer, none of them having the opportunity to become a new hat.

If the Harbinger has failed here, it will be a third time the transferred Scion failed the Master in a short period. While even the Redcap admits he probably won’t be permitted to make a hat of the scion, he can still lower the influence it has on the Master. When the outsider first arrived, the Redcap was all too happy to have a proper challenge! Oh, that day… he should recreate another scene from the battle with his new hat, once he makes it. His current one was a monument to suffering, which was an interesting challenge, but he should never forget his roots.

White teeth show in the shadows of the Redcap’s face, encouraging the workers to remain diligent, though he hardly notices them. Forcing the Harbinger to help with his new hat would be a good start for the punishment it deserves. Its advice was excellent at first, giving the Master such wonderful power. Now, though, the Harbinger seems determined to squander that power.

The Redcap thinks the Harbinger just wants to steal the Master’s power, like rot stealing away food. Like time stealing away the glory of a good hat. It is slow and insidious, taking just a little here and there. Once you realize it’s ruined, it’s too late to do anything meaningful. The rot has spread too far, nothing can be salvaged.

The Harbinger insists the Redcap is just being jealous. It’s not wrong, but he’s not blind to what the other scion does. If he can find evidence of another failure, the Master will have to recognize the Harbinger is fallible, and maybe even consume it. Then maybe the Master will raise a metal elemental scion instead of the Harbinger.

He’s pulled from his imagination by one of the workers, the lead, nervously approaching. “Yes?” he asks with a smooth voice, yet the worker flinches anyway. It’s no matter, artists are never understood.

“Uh… M-Master Redcap? We’ve found something, but we don’t know what it means. We can take more time to clear the area, or you can come take a look now? You said you wanted to be informed as soon as we found anything.”

“Good. Take me to it, and explain on the way.”

The worker takes him to a tunnel through the rubble that forces him to almost crawl. Even the dwarf has to bend low to get through, though he explains as ordered.

“This team has been trying to get through the rubble, so we have a better idea of how large the cave-in was. He haven’t found the wall, nor the other side, but we did find… well a kobold.”

The blue eyes of the Redcap show confusion at that. “A kobold was crushed? How did it get out? Why don’t I smell the blood?”

“Ah… sorry, not a real one. A sculpture, or maybe a carving of one? It seems to be part of the cave floor, though the stone is a different type than the rest of the cave.”

A carving? Somehow, that seems to make even less sense than an actual kobold being caught in the collapse. A real kobold would be easily explained: it escaped. It doesn’t happen often, but it’s possible. Someone carving a kobold into the cave floor makes no sense. He needs to see it.

“How much further?”

“Just up ahead, Master Redcap. I’ll let you go first. There’s not much room for me to try to get out of your way once in there.”

The dwarf presses himself into a divot in the rubble, and the Redcap can soon see the truth in the worker’s words. The opening is hardly even enough for a cupboard, let alone both a dwarf and the Redcap himself. He also sees the confusion the worker had about it being a sculpture or a carving. It’s a small statuette of a praying kobold, looking at first like it’s simply sitting on the stone of the cave floor. Looking closer, the robe flows smoothly into the floor, and a gentle tap confirms it is firmly attached. If it was carved, it was from a stalagmite.

As he takes in the piece, he starts doubting it was carved. He sees no toolmarks, though there are a few chips from the ceiling collapsing on it. He’s surprised it managed to survive the cave-in. He’s also growing to appreciate the artistry involved. Whoever did it seems to be new, inexperienced. They attempted to capture detail, but still lacked the practice to truly bring them into focus. The imperfections draw his eye, and he wonders if they’re deliberate choices, or some limitation of the medium or the artist. It’s like it was dripped on, and the drips were then captured.

Perhaps it was a stalagmite after all? While that would explain the odd blemishes, it would also make it even less likely to have survived the collapse. It would have had a matching stalactite above it, primed to fall with the rest of the ceiling.

He ponders the mystery for a few more seconds before pulling out a blade and slicing the odd piece of art from the floor, then turns to the dwarf in the divot.

“You said this is different stone than the cave?”

“Uh… yes, Master Redcap,” he answers with a gulp, his eyes on the blade used to free the statuette. “The cave is fairly soft, but that stone is much harder. I have a worker with earth affinity, if you’d like more detail?”

The Redcap shakes his head and motions for the dwarf to lead the way out. “No. Just knowing it is different is all I need. It was deliberately done by an artist with talent, but little practice. It’s also of a foreign kobold,” he states, having noticed the lack of chains on it. He doesn’t bother explaining to the worker about that, instead opting to think while he’s led back to the cave at large. He will need to know more about the stone after all.

“Bring the earth affinity worker. I need to know if these imperfections would be an unavoidable part of shaping stone with magic.” He doesn’t hear the reply as he resumes studying the enigmatic piece of art in his hands. Perhaps it’s a shrine or an offering to the Master? Most would carve a feast instead. On the other hand, kobolds are the Master’s favorite. No chains though… a sacrifice from outside? It’s been some time since outsiders were seen in these tunnels, which would explain the drips. Ah, but didn’t the worker say it was different from the stone of a stalagmite?

“Y-You wished to see me, M-Master Redcap?” The pale dwarf goes even paler as the blue eyes lock onto her.

“Yes. This is all one variety of stone, correct? And not the type stalagmites are made of?”

“C-Correct, Master Redcap. The stone of this cave is much more susceptible to erosion. The stone of that sculpture is usually deeper than this layer.”

“Hmm. These imperfections,” he leans forward to point out with a small blade, causing the worker to flinch away for a moment. “Are they a byproduct of working earth directly with magic?”

The worker tries to keep her fear in check as she looks where indicated, and confusion starts to slowly erode her terror. “N… No, Master Redcap. I’ve never tried to sculpt like that, but texture is very easy to control. It really does look like stalactite drip, but that stone wouldn’t do that…”

“Hmm,” he repeats and stands, the blade vanishing. “Resume the excavation, and keep an eye out for stones that don’t belong, as well as corpses.” The dwarf nods and scurries off while the Redcap turns the statuette over in his hands. He still feels it’s the work of an amateur, but there is definitely a spark of talent in it. Perhaps one of the workers made it? He snorts at that idea. It’s possible, but if any of them had the talent and desire to craft like this, they’d be employed as a carver, not a simple worker. It’s possible they’ve slipped through the cracks, but he doubts it.

He needs to meet this artist, even if they are an outsider like he thinks they would be. Finding them is not as important as damaging the Harbinger in the Master’s eyes, but it’s not too far behind. It’s so rare he gets a chance to trade techniques and tips with an artist.


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