The Crafter's Dilemma: A Dungeon Core Novel (Dungeon Crafting Book 3) by Jonathan Brooks (english readers txt) 📗

Monsters, so the earliest it could happen was late the next morning as everyone got up from another nap they took overnight.  Kelerim eventually woke up in the middle of the night and Sandra let him know what had transpired, as well as the unfortunate results of the Orc army’s action – both to their numbers and the Temporary Enhancements the nearby dungeons were now experiencing.

He didn’t take it well.

* There’s nothing we can do about it now, but I fear there are going to be some hardships in the future before we can fully get a handle on the situation.  There have already been sacrifices made to protect everyone here in this dungeon, and we’ll all be doing our part to keep further casualties to a minimum.  So cheer up, my friend, because we’ve got a lot of work to do. *

“That’s easy for you to say; you’re not the one that caused all of this.”

* That may be, but I think I was already heading in this direction from the get-go, so it was inevitable. So stop moping around and be useful; make some blades for your Orcish heritage – because those things they are using are utter garbage. *

Having something to do was the best thing for him, and while he grumbled a little, he didn’t protest.  While she could certainly make better swords and other weapons for the Orcs – and probably would, with what was likely going to be coming their way – she didn’t have the time nor inclination to do it right then.

Knowing his way around, he went right to work in the forge where Sandra had taught him the basics and a few advanced techniques of Blacksmithing; luckily for the others, she had moved their rooms further down below, otherwise the banging would’ve certainly woken them up.  In fact, he was still going when Felbar, Violet, Gerold, and Echo woke up and got some food from the nearby dining area.

“Who are you?” Echo asked Kelerim after hearing his incessant banging from down the tunnel.  The others had come along, just as curious as to who this new person was.

Sandra translated, but didn’t bother introducing him – he did that all by himself.

“I’m…Kelerim.  Sandra said I could work in here – did I disturb you?” he said, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm. He had taken his torn and ragged shirt off from the heat at least an hour earlier, so he was essentially just there with threadbare pants and a leather Blacksmith’s apron.

“Uh…no.  I’d just never seen anyone actually use that thing other than Sandra’s constructs.  Are you coming with us to destroy the undead dungeon?” Echo asked with a strange tone in her voice.

“Me?”  Kelerim laughed depreciatingly at the question.  “No, I’m not a fighter – I’m a Blacksmith by trade.”

“You’re a Blacksmith?  You don’t look like any Blacksmith I’ve ever seen before, but for some reason you look oddly familiar,” Gerold interjected himself into the conversation.

“Um…well, my mother was a Dwarf and my father was an Orc, but I left the mountains of my birth a long time ago—”

“Now I remember!  You were just a little lad when they forced you out; I remember that vividly because I didn’t agree with it just because you were different.  I was a little odd myself, and I always worried they would put me out like you were.”  He paused for a moment.  “I’m glad to see you survived, at least.”

“If you call being beaten daily, half-starved, and forced into a trade without my say-so surviving, then I guess it qualifies,” Kelerim said dejectedly.

“Well, that’s enough catching up – we’ve got to get going.  Nice to meet you, Kelerim,” Felbar said abruptly, likely sensing the dour mood that had fallen over the group.  The others also said their goodbyes as they realized what he was talking about.

“Yes…it was nice to meet you…Kelerim,” Echo said last with particularly slow emphasis on his name, following the rest out of the room – though her eyes lingered on the half-Dwarf/half-Orc longer than necessary.

Hmm…

Kelerim went back to work on the sword he was making, completely oblivious.

For her part, Sandra made sure everything was assembled for the trip to the dungeon.  Most of her Dungeon Monsters were already there, surrounding the entrances/exits again, but a few that had just been created were going to join Felbar and Gerold in their Deep Delvers, as well as Echo on her Pegasus that she named…Starlight.  Not a particularly inventive name, but I guess it fits.

Five of the Shieldmen also insisted on going because they wanted to be a part of eliminating the threat; Sandra was sure that revenge was also playing a factor in their decision, but at least they had the presence of mind to only send half of their number away, electing to keep the rest to protect the villagers.  Not that they really needed protecting at the bottom of Sandra’s dungeon, but she could appreciate where they were coming from.

Violet was of course staying, but she had plenty to work on – including trying to figure out how to fix the War Machine’s left arm that had melted.  Sandra had already repaired much of the actual physical damage, but now many of the movement enchantments were all messed up and might need to be replaced completely.

One spot of good news – at least she hoped so – was that the Orcs that had survived the destruction of the Avian dungeon had left the area first thing in the morning; they headed back northeast up the same road they came down, though with only about 5% of the number they arrived with.  She told Kelerim the news and his reaction was one of surprise and then suspicion.

“Either they think they completed the mission they were given, or they