Alexander sighed as he looked up at the ceiling, his reincarnation started off Alright but since the Day of Ascension it had sped down hill faster than a greased pig. Rubbing his face he pushed up off the bed and straightened his clothes, frowning a bit as he looked at himself. His torn clothes was all he had taken from his house, the flight through the woods had otherwise ruined his noble appearance leaving him to look more akin to a beggar much less a noble or even a Dungeon Lord.
Turning he touched the crystal by his bed and willed the shop open again, this time looking more for what the dungeon could do for him personally. The build menu was obviously for the dungeon at large, but there had to be a simpler menu for which Dungeon Lords. Sweeping his gaze across the Builders selection he found nothing so switched over to the Status screen. Absently he also spoke to the crystal as he found another tab for his status, "Jansea, pull our forces from the front passages, I want our main host situated near the central nexus. The skeletal platoon is to be moved up as a forward honor guard."
The demons voice echo'd back, "But Master, that will leave the core defenseless save for me. While I'm sure I can handle the hero I fear you or the core may be targeted by her troops."
Alexander had opened a second window that had much the same layout as the Builders though this one was for Dungeon Lord, "Jansea, obey my order, I'll be on the frontline myself shortly."
================
The Lords Shoppe
• Attire •
} Casual
} Combat
} Decorative
} Special
• Equipment •
} Adventuring
} Day to Day
} Dungeon
} Skills
} Spells
• Weapons •
} Ceremonial
} Close Combat
} Decorative
} Ranged
} Special
==================
Alexander smiled to himself, it stood to reason that the Dungeon Lord should have had some way to bolster his or her own power early on but when he began browsing he frowned. Replacing his clothes would be simple enough, most standard clothing came in outfit sets which only deducted one hundred or so merits but most of the quality things cost ten to twenty times that. He looked longingly at the regal robe that would have made many an Emporer slather at the mouth to own even a piece of the set... but dropping five thousand merits for it?! Sure it was made with literal gold and silver thread but from what he could see it afforded no defensive ability what so ever!
Sighing he looked through the lists, much of the rest was the same. Sure he could buy a sword for around five hundred merits but it was an average longsword. If he wanted a mystical sword that cut steel like butter... Alexander's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets... Twenty thousand merits?! The thing cost more than two thirds of the dungeon upgrades by itself... Still it wasn't all horrible, biting the bullet he purchased a decent Dungeon Lord looking suit, a standard blade for his hip and a few other things his mind whirled to form into a plan.
Accepting the cost he grimaced checking his merits, half the remaining five thousand had vanished and on his bed sat his purchases. At least the service was prompt, he just hoped his plan could work, ending his second life here would be such a let down, especially knowing that dog headed asshole Anubis was waiting to turn him into cold cuts on the other side. Gritting his teeth he stripped off his torn rags and began dressing himself, a process he hadn't done in years. It had to be said, the clothing of nobles was a far stretch from anything he wore in his old life, having assistance greatly reduced the time it took to do up all the buttons and what not that kept the embellishments in place.
Sighing he eventually had to call one of the dryads to his chamber to finish up... now some will likely wonder why Alex couldn't sate his wild urges with one of the dryads right? Alexander watched the departing back with a four countenance. Unlike tales and cartoons these tree spirits weren't pretty girls with their naughty bits covered by vines or leaves. These were true tree spirits made of wood! They certainly had a female shape and they certainly were pretty but by the same token when he had inspected the one that had helped him he felt like crying.
Their bodies were literally wood. Trying to have his way here was like sticking it in a knot hole and trying to go to town... if you didn't get a splinter you'd hurt yourself in varied ways. Alexander hung his head and nearly sobbed. What happened to monster girls?! He'd not seen any females of the monsters he'd summoned yet but if the initial samples were any indication they'd be about as appealing as their ugly male counter parts. How was a lustful young Master suppose to get anything done that way?!
Wiping his face he shook his head, survival first Alex! He told himself, though a certain pall fell over his heart. So far he wasn't the hero, his childhood crush was somehow now his mortal enemy, his minions were kinda hot but not conductive to indulgance, and his one source of pleasure killed his mother and was in turn killed by him. Alexander grumbled as he stalked past Jansea who looked about ready to burst out of her tight leather catsuit... of course.
Ignoring her protests he walked out the front doors of the core room and motioned for his ready honor guard to escort him to the central chamber. The fighters and hoplite surrounded him in a box that protected him on all sides, his steps were casual as a notice appeared in his eyes about a hero entering the dungeon, that they had incurred the ancient art of the 'raid', that four times the normal amount of invaders were pushing into the dungeon. Alexander shook his head, he'd played a game or two when he was younger, the fact the good guys could launch a major assault was hardly a surprise.
Reaching the central chamber he dismissed his monstrous minions to the corridors behind him while he bought a simple chair and sat down calmly facing the pair of entry tunnels while his undead fanned out behind him in an impressive double line of undead might. The groups commander stood to his side where its shield could cover their Master and they waited...
• ▪︎ ● ■ * ■ ● ▪︎ •
While Alex had been cursing existence for being against his new life and carnal desires Thersea stood outside the dungeon looking at the illusionary bone doors. The gathered forces of the nation stood behind her, their commanders watching her with disapproval as she cleaned the rancid goblin blood from her blade with an undeniable tremble in her arms. It had been a year since she became the Kingdom of Alastal's champion, their living hero of the age, and she felt no more comfortable than that eve when her home town bowed down to praise her existence and sent out ot forces to slaughter her childhood rivals entire family.
She had cried when heard that House Caven had been razed, despite her opposition of Alexander she had known his parents as good loving folk. To hear that their home had been burned and their dismembered bodies were scattered across the estate had made her violently ill. They had not deserved that fate. Law required it, that the family of what she would come to know as, a Demon Path follower, HAD to be purged. The fact they had tried to save Alexander that evening showed that even had their servants not acted, the magistrate would have done much the same... if not worse.
Sighing as she cleaned her sword she looked to the commanders, these old hats of war and monster culling. She was but fifteen years of age, and yet they looked down at her for her first monster kill ever. The thought of doing the same to Alexander had nearly made her vomit. But she couldn't. Not in front of these who would be her peers going forward. Closing her eyes Thersea regretted 'beating' Alexander a year ago, she wanted to fight for her people but not like this, she dreamed of protecting her country men not acting as a glorified bounty hunter whose first mission was collecting the head of an old friend.
For the last year she had spent weeks being drilled on the etiquette of heroism, or more in her minds eye, the etiquette of being a glorified sacrificial lamb. Near as she could tell, heroes were just those unlucky folk who were sent in to fight huge monsters when the kings forces couldn't handle things. Her first training mission had nearly seen her die! They had thrown her at a camp of bandits that had been plaguing the King's Road, nearly being killed, violated and left for wild dogs to eat she had found strength to deny her would be soilers and left their camp in torn garb covered in the blood of humans. Sure her purity survived but her innocence that week was taken behind the shed and butchered with all the care one did a wild hare.
Turning from those judging stares she exhaled slowly, she knew these older and more experienced commanders resented being placed under her command. To them she was a snot nosed upstart. Lord Bothar of the Knights League had told her as much to her face, that all her commands were going to be approved through him and the other two commanders before they sent any of their men with this waif of a girl, hero path be damned, it was an outdated title that deserved to remain in history books. It had been damn inconvenient that only had the ancient Path of the Dungeon Lord sprung back up but some lesser noble girl was appointed 'hero'.
Even now the three were arguing amongst themselves over who was going in. Every month the local soldiers had sent a party in and the first few had only suffered a casualty or two, but then the third month saw every further soldier vanish with no intelligence to speak of other than the cavern was supposedly house to lesser goblinkin, kobolds and Lizardfolk, nothing overly THAT difficult, yet a score of good soldiers had not returned.
Now the three main branches of Alastal's military were pulled from the frontlines of their war with their neighbor Farthan, all to help this pathetic little hero pretender. They all knew she had the ancient path but really? In this modern age? There was no Demon Empire to bring down, sure there was this Dungeon Lord kid but damn it all did he really want this response? Send in a Path of Shadows, slit the little fuckers throat, what was the point of disrupting the war effort for these two relics?
Grumbling to himself Bothar came up beside this little girl, giving her the sidelong stink eye. "Hero, the troops are ready, if you're quite finished preparing to puke into your own dainty slippers, we'd like to get this farce done with. Then you and that other little shit stain can fade back into obscurity."
Thersea hardened her gaze wanting to reprimand the arrogant knight but looking at his stern visage she held her tongue. She'd learned on the march over she had no ally in these three divisions. The King was all too ready to have such a lovely figure head to show off to the people but even he had told her, the age of heroes and demon lords were over, she was to look heroic and let the kings men do their job. They'd given her half hearted training, paraded her around for the people and now shoved her out to deal with the other screw up of last year.
Wiping her eyes and sheathing her sword she looked to the thirty nine troops waiting to go. It was a fairly standard mix as far as historic raids went. Five clerics of the Holy One, twenty knights, four third rank mages and twenty adventurer skirmishes comprising rogues, bards, fighters, monks and a whole slew of pumped up muscle heads who were drummed out of the other divisions but made exceptional canon fodder. Sighing to herself she strode to the entrance which became more 'real' the closer her and her group came.
Pulling a seal from a pouch on her hip she raised it high, "By the order of the Holy One, the ancient decree is heard. Open the doors of Death for the lights raid upon the darkness!" Her words carried as much uncertainty as they did power, the bone door shuddered, almost laughing at her as they swung wide to reveal the darkened passage within. Waving her hand she slashed forward, "Scouts and rogues forward! Be aware of traps and pit falls. All else, we move!"
Striding into the doors of death the raid upon the dungeon began...