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of Truth!”

As Ulruk stomped toward us, I reckoned I had two problems.

One: Ulruk had heroic confidence. Not to be confused with regular confidence. Heroic confidence comes when a hero battles through hundreds of tombs, lairs, and labyrinths without dying. It makes them stupid but dangerous.

Two: he seemed to be under the impression that the traders were demons in disguise. That put them in danger. In danger at the hands of a stupidly dangerous guy, who was holding a big, dangerous hammer.

I supposed I had a third problem, too. This Hammer of Truth, whatever the hell that was.

I used my core vision to speak to my dungeon monsters throughout my lair.

“What’s going on? You let a hero get to the loot chamber, you fools!”

“Sorry, Dark Lord! The other three were tough!”

“Everyone get here, now. Protect the traders.”

It only took a minute for monsters to flood into the chamber from all sides. I’d wanted to keep them out of the way, knowing how much the traders found monsters distasteful. I really had no choice.

In came Shadow, my kobold rogue, flanked by the beasts she still referred to as puppies. It had about as much truth to it as describing a dragon as a large lizard. They were starting to look more like wolves, and their food bill alone was insane. But they were trained, and they were lethal. A dungeon core loves both of those things.

Following her were six kobolds. Five of them were new to the dungeon. I created them to be warriors, to pump up our numbers a little. After training in the dungeon arena they had some muscle definition, and they knew which way up to hold their swords. That was a good start

The next kobold to leap into the chamber was different.

“Yip yip!” cried Rusty, my kobold shaman, waving a bone staff in the air, and adorned in a new cape purchased from a Yondersun tailor using his wages.

Wages. Ugh.

I had begun paying my monsters wages.

I had to wonder: what’s next? Paid time off? Served me right for creating a dungeon union.

Next were Fight, Death, and Kill the fire beetles, scuttling in and twisting their beetle feelers left and right, finally focusing on the hero and his hammer. Flames rushed over their oil black skin.

Brecht the bard stopped mid-song. He tapped a new rhythm on his tambourine. When his mana fused with his notes, the air took on a frosty, gloomy feel. His Fable of Fear song drifted to the hero’s ears.

Ulruk laughed. “These are the fearsome monsters waiting in the heart of this foul lair, are they?”

As happy as I was to hear my dungeon be described as a foul lair - a look I had carefully cultivated - I hated his confidence. I wanted to see his bones smashed to dust.

The traders backed away some more. “We aren’t monsters, we’re traders, that’s all!”

“A likely story, demons!”

Ulruk held his hammer upright and close to his chest, and he adopted an aggressive stance.

“Time for Ulruk to show you the truth!”

Kobolds and fire beetles advanced on Ulruk, while Tomlin backed away, getting as far from combat as he could until he hit the wall. He stood there, hands shaking, looking longingly at the tunnel exit but not daring to run toward it. As the most cowardly of my kobolds, it was what I expected from him.

Ulruk swung his hammer, smashing Shadow in the belly with enough force to send her flying across the room.

She hit the wall. Dazed, she got to her feet. Waves of blue light washed over her.

“I have nightmares about Anna,” she said. She looked confused. As if she couldn’t believe the words were coming from her own lips. “Nightmares about what she made me do. Killing Redjack.”

What in all hells…

Ah. The Hammer of Truth. It was living up to its name.

I looked at Shadow in a new light. She was always so insular. Didn’t need support from anyone. Or at least that was what she tried to portray.

But after a rocky start and some arguments, Shadow and I were getting closer. Beginning to trust each other. And then a little witch named Anna had mind-controlled Shadow and used her as a weapon. Forced Shadow to murder one of her own dungeon mates.

We’d removed Anna’s control, but we couldn’t get rid of Shadow’s memories of what she’d done. I didn’t know she was having nightmares, though. As a dungeon core, nightmares had always seemed like a good thing.

Ulruk swung his hammer at Rusty next, catching his thigh and sending him spinning off balance.

Light washed over him, too. “When I drink the last of the dungeon worm tea,” Rusty declared, “I don’t brew another pot. I make sure nobody saw me, and then I leave it for the next person to brew!”

“I think we all understand what’s going on here,” I said. “Not that I should have to say this…but avoid getting hit by his giant hammer. Unless you want nasty secrets to spill out.”

Ulruk winced as a fire beetle scorched his thigh with a fireball, burning his leg hairs and filling the chamber with a disgusting smell.

“I’m showing you foul beasts the truth! Truth leads to the light, and the light will devour you!”

The traders were as far away from the table as they could get, backed up against the wall. Their faces were paler than milk. I had to get them out of here. The longer they stayed, the more they associated me with chaos. They wouldn’t vote for someone they couldn’t trust. Not if they wanted stability.

I used as comforting a voice as I could. Coming from a dungeon core, that didn’t accomplish much.

“Follow me this way, ladies and gents,” I said.

“You promised us a nice supper…not that we’d be supper!”

“Ulruk isn’t going

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