Tiny Dungeon

It was a strange experience for Valterra to gaze upon his creator. Calamvor was very much deceased of course but Valterra had already heard as much from the High Council. It was different seeing him in the flesh, even if it was through the multifaceted eyes of one of his creations. The first thing Valterra noticed was not the apparent ancientness of the man who had created him, it wasn’t the way he was sprawled against the wall clutching at his chest, and it wasn’t the way Calamvor’s face was etched in a rictus of pain, anger, and despair.

It was the appearance of preservation. At this point, a week and a half after his death, Calamvor’s body should have been decaying and falling apart, his innards oozing out of him as his body was liquefied. Looking at him now Valterra could find no such signs of decay.

He was stuck staring, his insect creature hovering in place providing steady vision. He took in the being that would have enslaved him, his frozen dim eyes and old wizened flesh. His face was full of pain and rage, and suddenly Valterra began to chuckle. His joy reverberated through his dungeon as all his childish fear left him as he laughed. He could feel his creatures react to his laughter and realized that they had felt his fear subconsciously, attempting to prepare for imminent invasion.

And what had prompted this laughter, this joy? Valterra realized that no other creature knew he existed. The master of this house, the one capable of finding and claiming him, was already dead. He was surrounded by a forest, a dangerous forest that would keep out intruders even better than he could. He truly had no enemies except the denizens of the forest. Caution was required but not fear. In that moment Valterra determined within himself that he wouldn’t let fear drive him again.

He looked once more at the seemingly preserved corpse of his master and his mind was suddenly filled with a mischievous thought. ‘I wonder what Schema I’d get from him?’ Following that thought he began to expand his territory once more, claiming more and more of the house en route to his creator’s corpse.

He didn’t know if he would be able to absorb the Schema since it had been so long since Calamvor’s death but he wanted to try. A creature that could grow powerful enough to create a being like himself? That could be a potent defender.

It didn’t take Valterra long. The power of his name, coupled with his determination to push through the discomfort of growing swiftly meant that it only took him an hour to retrace his insect’s path. As he made it to the location of his creator's corpse, he found that the room his creator had died in was flooded with Aether. Fascinated by this discovery, Valterra put his goal of absorbing his creator on hold as he dived into examining what made the room so special.

It took him around an hour to discover the reason. Tiny sigils had been carved into the stone of the room preventing the Aether from escaping into the rest of the house. The floor also, was carved in intricate lines that made a dizzying display. Now that it was a part of his body Valterra felt odd. He could almost feel a connection to it but had no knowledge of high magic and so couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

What surprised him more was turning his ‘gaze’ upon his creator’s corpse only to discover that it was leaking Aether into the air. Gaping plumes of Aether left the body to join what was already in the room and Valterra mentally gaped at the amount. With the Aether that was already in the air and the time of death being well over a week ago, Calamvor must have had tremendous amounts of Aether within his body. Was this how he hadn’t decayed yet?

Valterra didn’t know but he reached forward to claim the Schema. And hit a giant wall. A giant Divine wall. A Divine wall with the signature of the High Council written all over it. So Valterra did the only thing he could think of and built a mental battering ram made up of his Name and sent it crashing into the wall. That did get some attention and he felt the presence of Divinity as one of the High Council looked more closely.

“Well, hello there funny guy!” A mischievous voice rang out inside Valterra’s head and he recognized it as Trik’Weri. “What have we got here? Ohoho! So you’ve found the body of your creator eh? Not only that but I assume you want the Schema huh?” At Valterra’s stunned mental nod, Trik’Weri’s voice gained a kind of pained tone.

“Eh, sorry little one, no can do. As hilarious as it would be to watch you run around with tiny humans they are not yours to play with. They are divine you see. Well, not strictly Divine as they don’t have a Divine Spark but their Schema is divine in nature. They are like you, with true sentience, and having them become Dungeon Monsters would be like slavery to some extent. So, sorry but no.”

‘But my name!’ Valterra cried out as he felt Trik'Weri's presence retreat. ‘It says I can use Divine servants!’

He felt the presence return and Trik’Weri’s voice took on a calm explanatory tone. “I know, I know but those are the direct servants of us Spirits, creatures created by us to serve us. They aren’t like the earthly races at all.” Valterra heard a sigh as Trik’Weri tried a different explanation. “Look, it all has to do with Authority. It's a substance of the Maker in every being and it marks them as his. Only truly sentient beings have the ability to utilize Authority to affect reality outside of themselves. It’s called the Mark of the Maker.”

“The mortals are capable of great things because they can utilize their Authority to change the world. It’s how they cast magic and grow in power. You do this as well and in many of the same ways. Claiming territory is you asserting your Authority as a dungeon on the land around you. It bows to your will and becomes a part of you."

"The same thing happens to the creatures you claim as monsters and any you summon as Schema. They recognize your Authority over them and obey you completely. Your creatures also use your Authority to grow. You permit them to do so. As you grow in power, so do your creatures and they only do so within the bounds of your dungeon. Even if they grow to possess greater intelligence, their Sparks will be confined to the shape of their Schema. Without you, they would go mad.”

Trik’Weri stopped for a moment to give Valterra time to process the information. “Do you see? The moment we let you claim this corpse, a Schema will be created. That Schema will connect with your Authority granting you the ability to create humans, albeit tiny humans. Their Authority as sentient beings will forever clash with yours. They will instinctively battle against your will and you will have to squash theirs or worse, the Schema that would be created would chain their Sparks completely."

"You will become exactly like your creator, enslaving sentient people to your will to the point where they are unable to escape or leave your service. By breaking their free will they will become monsters in the truest sense. So I’m sorry but no. We as the High Council could never condone such an outcome as it might bring the wrath of the Maker upon us and you.”

Valterra sat for a moment but a thought flickered in his mind and he latched onto it. Thinking quickly he projected his thoughts to Trik’Weri. ‘What about the Schema’s potential? This would have provided me with immense growth, right? So what do I get for relinquishing it?’

Trik’Weri’s voice came back amused. “Eh, what’s this? Trying to bargain eh? Sorry mate but you don’t have much ground to stand on.”

Valterra didn’t relent though. ‘His body should be mine. He would have enslaved me, it’s only right that I decide his fate! Why should I get nothing but his hazy memories and instincts you would have given me anyway?’

“Hmm. You know what squirt? You may have some ground to stand on after all. There would be some semblance of justice to giving you something but it depends on what you want. What are you planning to do with this potential if I would grant it to you?” His voice was full of mischief and Valterra caught on that he was skirting the rules a little for some reason of his own. There was also that mention of the word "potential" like it meant something more to Trik’Weri than Valterra knew.

‘Well, you have Divine Servants, right? Give me the potential to create my own, from the start of their evolution to their end. You said my creatures might gain minds of their own, right? Give me the ability to increase that potential within the bounds of my dungeon. I need protectors so I want the ability to determine who my champions are.’ Valterra didn’t know where this eloquence was coming from but it bubbled forth from his being like water and even Trik’Weri seemed stunned by his words.

“Huh,” Trik’Weri stated, “You continue to surprise me squirt. Very well. I’ll grant you your potential but you must give me something in return.” Valterra felt more than saw Trik’Weri’s vulpine grin, one full of sharp teeth. “A favor, in the future, to be called upon whenever I want. Decide quickly. Our talk has been long enough and the others are starting to take notice and believe me you don’t want Tal’Irieth to take over these negotiations.”

Valterra frowned mentally but agreed with some stipulations. ‘As long as it doesn’t involve controlling me or claiming me, then I agree.’ He heard Trik’Weri sniff in disdain.

“As if I would try such a thing after giving you that whole spiel. You’ve got a deal mate. You can absorb the corpse now. You will be barred from claiming the Schema but the potential you want will be yours. Keep on being entertaining and remember my favor.”

With that Trik’Weri’s presence dissipated like mist and Valterra sagged with relief. It had been a gamble and now he had a debt hanging over his head but as he turned to the corpse of his creator all he was filled with was a giddy joy. Time to see what he had gained.