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not many got them as quickly as I had. See, I had earned my minor proficiency because I had made a strong bond with Tomlin and Wylie, my old kobolds.

Not everyone bothered with this. The traditional school of thought on creature treatment was cruel to be kind. Discipline your creatures, and they’ll follow orders.

I’d tried to follow the theories laid out by the more progressive core scholars like Atamir Puskin and Leroy Genava, who felt a creature would respond better when treated with respect. I even used to allow whistling in my dungeon.

Course, some cores took these nicer teachings too far. Discipling stone trolls by sending them to a place in the dungeon named the naughty corner - that was way too much.

As for the roles I could now give when I created kobolds, they seemed obvious.

You’ve probably worked out what a miner can do. And a scout kobold would be useful at times like this. I guessed they would have increased stealth abilities.

But a shaman kobolds?

Ah, that was the most interesting of all. Shamans, when they reached a high enough level, could raise the dead. They were similar to necromancers, in many ways. So similar that going into the intricacies now would take a whole book. If you’re ever interested in the subject, there’s a great section in the academy library on resurrection, necromancy, and shamanism.

It looked like my policy of treating my kobolds well had worked.

“I need to give you a name, and a role,” I said to my new kobold girl.

“I have a name,” she said, “If it pleases you to hear it.”

Wow, she was articulate for a kobold! As a species, they were a mixed bag. They could be sharp like my old kobold Tomlin, or dumber than a bag of smashed rocks, like another of my old kobolds named Wylie.

“I would very much like to hear it.”

“Breedmaster Hulle in the academy used to call me Pain in the Arse. However, my clanmates called me Shadow.”

“Shadow, huh? A very impressive-sounding name. Usually, when siblings give each other nicknames, they are joking ones.”

“No, no, they definitely called me Shadow. Of course, if you asked them, they wouldn’t remember. Most kobolds have very short memories.”

I was beginning to like this kobold already. “Tell me then, Shadow, where does your name come from?”

“From my many escapes from the cruel academy captivity.”

“You fled from the breeding grounds?”

“The first time, I spent a full month watching breedmaster Hulle. He takes his peppermint tea at the same time every day. Then, again at the same time each day, the peppermint gives him a poorly stomach. He then retreats to the latrine.”

“And you used the opportunity to sneak out.”

“After having spent the month digging under the fence. I only made it as far as the academy gates, when they caught me. The next time I escaped…”

“How many times did you break free?”

“12,” she said, clearly proud. “So they named me shadow.”

“Because you kept escaping?”

“Because I kept getting caught. They say I am like a shadow; you can’t get rid of me.”

Despite her repeated captures, I was impressed. With her intellect, with her guile, with her sheer determination. It made my job easier.

“Shadow,” I said, “your role in this dungeon is to be a scout.”

Shadow [Kobold] is now a Scout. 

Due to your proficiency, she begins as a level 5!

“Scout?” said Shadow. “Hmm. May I have a few moments to take a walk, core? I like to think about things before I commit to something.”

“Of course you ca…Wait. Take a walk? Think about things? You’re planning to escape!”

She sighed. “You’re shrewder than Breedmaster Hulle at least.”

“And you don’t fully understand your predicament. You belong to this dungeon now, Shadow. It is your home, and you are a scout in my employ. I am the dungeon core, the feared overlord of this foul pit, a being at once all-mighty and fearless. And I need you to pick me up and carry me through the dungeon, please.”

CHAPTER 9

It was easy to see the difference in a level 5 scout kobold versus a regular kobold. Shadow’s footsteps were muted so that even I could barely hear them, and I already knew she was walking. Someone who wasn’t listening for her would not be able to hear.

She carried me through my dungeon, through one tunnel after another, each stretch of passageway a reminder of the hard work ahead of me. Luckily, I love hard work.

We finally caught sight of the Seekers way ahead of us. They’d moved further south from when Warrane had seen them, but the glow of their lamps was unmistakable.

“How close can you get us?” I whispered.

It might seem strange to you that this kobold was created just ten minutes earlier, yet I was already asking her for advice. I admit, it would have seemed weird to me.

It’s strange, how a dungeon core’s creatures are made. For one thing, they are not made completely from essence. They are bred and raised in places like the academy, but nor are they completely normal, either.

It is one of the greatest mysteries of our time, what happens when a core decides to create something and casts essence out from himself. We know that non-living things get constructed there and then; if I made a rug, its fibers would be made from essence. But living tissue? That had to begin up top, it had to be born the natural way, even if essence is what brought it to my dungeon.

Either way, the process that brought shadow to my dungeon also changed her from the inside. Essence can do that. Since I had given her the role of scout, the essence I had created her from made sure that the knowledge of what a scout is, does, and knows would have been bestowed

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