The Crafter's Darkness: A Dungeon Core Novel (Dungeon Crafting Book 4) Jonathan Brooks (best smutty novels TXT) 📖

of delicious-looking food.  She was still a bit full from last night’s feast, and she envied the others that would be partaking of it later.

The villagers stepped on top of the platform then and picked up some swords and more of the armor that the Warband was wearing, bringing them to the supply hut – which still had a Dralkurk-shaped hole in it.  After that, everyone was still as they tried to figure out what to do now, though as usual Palzerk seemed to have the answer.

“Well, this is it, I guess.  I still don’t think you all should be doing this, but I’m not going to deny that I—no, we—are appreciative for your sacrifice.  Though, try not to make it a sacrifice; survive, grow stronger, and return to us when your year is complete.  I expect you all to act with honor and make me proud; I have no doubt that you will.”  With that, he turned away and ran out of the village, the rest of the Warband following behind.

“If you’re ready, I think your transportation is waiting for you.” The voice from her side startled her a little bit, and she turned to see the older village Chief, Furbrea, looking at her and pointing towards the stone platform.  Perceine was feeling a bit lost now that she wasn’t part of the Warband anymore, so she took the direction without question, followed quickly by the others.   As soon as they were all on top of the platform, the sides impossibly folded up to make tiny walls surrounding the perimeter.  Before she could comprehend what was happening, she felt a quick shift of the platform that made her need to catch her balance – they were now floating in the air!  The flying stone then started to move towards the wastelands she had always heard about but had never seen, though it moved at a speed little better than a fast walk.

None of the others voiced any complaints or questions because they knew they were at the mercy of whatever was controlling the platform – which she assumed were their new masters, even if they weren’t technically slaves.  Mercenaries were what they had been called, and that seemed appropriate enough for the situation.

Instead of heading towards the south and west, where she knew the Elves lived, the platform took them straight out into the middle of the wasteland.  She knew that there were beasts that lived in the wasteland but not much else – hence the name; she wasn’t scared, because they knew they could handle whatever they found out there, but she was confused at what they were doing out there.

Her confusion was cleared up fairly quickly when they were brought to some sort of open-roofed stone room set in the ground, and she could see that it was lit up without any kind of visible light even in the early morning light.  Only one thing would be out here with that kind of lighting as far as she knew: a dungeon.

Great – we’ve been betrayed.

However, instead of being attacked, the stone platform floated down to the room and settled on the floor before the sides folded back down so that it was completely flat.  The statues moved off suddenly and she tensed with her sword in her hand, but they completely ignored her and the others as they lined up against the far wall.

“Welcome!  I’m sure you have lots of questions,” a voice coming from across the room suddenly called out and she jumped back nervously, annoyed that she could be so distracted that she hadn’t seen the figure of a short person standing in the middle open space.  He was short, but not as short as she’d heard Dwarves or Gnomes were, and he didn’t have the pointy ears like an Elf; two nubs on his mouth where she thought tusks might be if they ever grew out indicated to her that he was some sort of Orcish ancestry, but was unsure of what the other part of him was.

“Now, there’s no need to be alarmed, this is a safe place.  As you may have guessed, this is a dungeon – but she’s a friendly dungeon.  She’s here to help, though that might be hard to believe.  First, though, there is a process that you need to go through in order to start your year as mercenaries, and I’m told that it hurts.  I haven’t undergone it myself, but—” the strange man suddenly cut off and looked through them, as if he were seeing or hearing something only he could understand.  “You can’t be serious.  Are you sure it’s safe?” he asked, though he obviously wasn’t addressing Perceine or the others with her.

“Fine,” he said, before walking over to a box she hadn’t noticed, which glowed in different colors from whatever was inside.  The man bent over and picked out a red and a brown glowing ball of some kind and held them out for the Orcs to see.  “Ok, so these are what are called Energy Orbs.  What they do is regenerate your elemental energy – yes, I know, that seems impossible, but it’s true.  Now, this process that you’ll need to go through will embed them in your palms, but it shouldn’t interfere with holding your weapons, so don’t worry about that.  Once you’ve gone through it, it’ll make much more sense.  Just be warned, it’s extremely painful for a few seconds; as in, the most pain you’ve ever felt in your life,” he continued, before he sighed and took a deep breath.  “Alright, I’m ready.”  He held out his hands to show one ball on each palm…and then he screamed.

It wasn’t just a normal scream of pain, but a primal scream that every Orc with her identified immediately.  It was something they’d all heard when their friends, comrades, and fellow Warriors experienced a wound so painful that they all knew