The Crafter's Dilemma: A Dungeon Core Novel (Dungeon Crafting Book 3) Jonathan Brooks (me reader TXT) 📖

listen to you.  I wish there was something else I could do, but short of allowing the Undead dungeon to quickly expand to show them the error of their ways, there’s not much I can do.  Maybe if Echo came to talk to them? *

“No, I doubt that would work.  Thank you for trying, though.”

* Just curious; do you mind if I take a few…samples…from your farms here? *

I wonder what she means by samples?  He knew she didn’t mean any harm to the Shieldmen or the villagers, so he said that was fine.  “It’s not like they’re going to need it in a few weeks anyway.”

From above, he saw the same shapes that he had thought were going to impale him during the battle he observed between Sandra’s forces and the undead horde shoot down to the fields.

“Hey!  What are those and what are they doing?” Bregan shouted, running towards where the nearest monster – that looked like a large pair of shears – was snipping off a few parts of a wheat stalk.  It was gone from the field and up in the air with something stuck through the loop of its handle before he even got close; Gerold watched as it slowly flew back towards where he knew Sandra’s dungeon was located.  In a few other places he saw more rising up with their own “samples”, including one that appeared to have impaled a potato and was wobbly flying away.

* Time to go – I don’t think that guy looks very happy.  Thanks for the permission, by the way, even if he doesn’t approve; the last time I tried to take an acorn, I was set upon by a group of powerful Elite Elves, so I’ve been more than a little cautious about what I take.  Now, however, I guess it doesn’t really matter; they know about me anyway because you told them.  Whether they believe you or not is their problem. *

Gerold hung on as the Jaguar turned around and slunk away from the edge of the field, heading back in the direction he had first taken when he was investigating the day before.  Has it only been…what…less than 24 hours?  It seemed like it was much more, considering that he had lost his armor, shield, weapon, and his place in Dwarven society.  As far as his parents would know, he died while fighting and culling the Golems near the village, doing his duty to his people and Kingdom.  He had no home now, no place where there was someone who wanted him around…and he felt lost.

* They may yet come around, just give them time.  The offer still stands for them to take refuge here if they change their minds.  Meanwhile…I could use your help if you would like to contribute a little. *

He slowly nodded, knowing that he didn’t really have any other options.  He could always walk away and hope to find something he could do in another land – perhaps the Gnomes would be willing to take him in – but he was curious what the dungeon needed help with.  I guess home is wherever I make it…even down in the depths of a dungeon…

 

*         *         *

“Shouldn’t we have at least checked out his story, Bregan?” Marleth asked him after Gerold on the ridiculous metal cat and the Gnomish War Machine were gone.

Absurd!  “Ridiculous!  Are you telling me you actually believe him?”

Second-shield Bregan glanced over at Third-shield Marleth, seeing that the other Shieldman was picking his words carefully.  “No, not necessarily.  However, the fact that he was riding...whatever it was…sends up some warning signs to me.  I’ve never seen anything like that before, so what if he was telling the truth – or something close to the truth?”

Bregan harrumphed, annoyed that he had to explain it to the Third-shield, who should know better.  “Whatever it was he was riding was probably constructed by the Gnomes; the presence of that War Machine should’ve been clue enough.  Most likely, Gerold felt like shirking his duties to explore the wastelands, came upon some Gnomes camped out there, and lost his armor to them in some sort of swindle.  Can’t trust Gnomes, you know – they’ll steal the boots right off their mother’s feet if it benefited them in some way.”

Marleth seemed as though he wanted to protest, but he snapped his mouth shut and said no more about.

“Now, it looks like I’ll have to be slotted back into formation with the unfortunate death of a Shieldman,” Bregan said, doing his best to end the matter by stressing the word.  Fortunately, the other two took the hint and nodded, going about their business of culling dungeon monsters.  When they were far enough away, his whole frame sagged in his armor and he sighed heavily.

Gerold, you stupid Dwarf, what have you done?  I thought this was supposed to be my retirement…

Chapter 25

With the convincing of the Dwarves to come to her dungeon a bust, Sandra turned her attention back to doing what she could to minimize what damage the Undead Core could do; it was practically inevitable that it would upgrade its Core Size before she was ready for her assault.  Not that she wanted to delay, but her reserves of Mana via her treasury were quickly drying up.  I think I need to build a bigger vault for next time.  She had previously stopped adding to her treasury because she had thought that what she was saving was more than enough for a “rainy day”, but this was turning out to be a violent downpour she hadn’t accounted for.

Regardless, she was determined to let that be her last mistake, and to strive forward with her plan.  While Felbar and Gerold were heading back to the dungeon, Sandra started working with Violet on enchantments while Echo finally got the go-ahead to bring another shipment of