Chapter 2 - Treasure Trove

Master is strange. I am not even allowed to call him that. He insists on Rook as if Master isn’t the title he deserves.

Lupa reached into the rock with her mind. It was Rook’s dungeon, not hers. Even though he claimed to only have level 2 awareness, her level 37 still wouldn’t show her what it showed him. It did let her feel the rock and soil a few feet ahead of her though. Digging with the spell was not easy, but a least the mix of shale, clay, soil, and loose stone would be possible to tunnel through. Even the cave itself was wind-hollowed sandstone.

She spoke the incantation as she drew the mana flowing through the air into herself: “Embenei dicaqua!”

Lupa felt the dungeon’s elementals answer her, granting her permission to work the magic on their home. She rolled her hands in a circular motion through the air, gathering the strands of earth energy suffusing the sandstone in front of her. The rock roiled as if a vortex were pulling it from the cave wall. Casting her hands behind her and sent the debris she’d extracted into the elemental plane.

The whole process took over a minute and had dug only a foot deep. Rook’s passage would be about 360 feet in total length. Dig was a slow and laborious spell to use, far less efficient than the natural talents of some minions. She would need to rest several times to avoid collapsing. The whole tunnel would probably take her all day. Hopefully, Rook would not be mad at her if he came back before the task was complete. At least it gave her a little time to think about her new master and try to prepare for whatever he did to her.

Master is strange. He gave me clothing. I do not need clothing, surely he knows that. Everyone does, don’t they? Did he not want to look at my body?

Her old Mistress had used many of her minions for sex. It was just part of what they were for. She favored the cave trolls, and when she’d summoned the white dragon she’d disappeared into its lair for weeks, but even Lupa had been a toy for her pleasure. At least, until her mistress left her bound in Rook’s cave, alone and abandoned.

She reached a section of limestone and cursed. Dig couldn’t penetrate that. She’d have to tunnel around it, which would slow her down. Lupa focused on the rock, searching for where it ended. Thankfully it was not a large area. A mere five-foot detour should bypass the problem, but it was still time she could ill afford. She pressed on, praying to the deep lords that she had the strength to complete the tunnel in time.

She hoped her new master would find some other use for her before he found the minion cards for goblins or dark dwarves. Their ability to tunnel would make dig, and potentially Lupa herself, worthless. Maybe, just maybe, she could make herself appealing to him.

Lupa sweated as the effort of wielding magic made her soul and body ache. Other drow made it seem so easy, but casting spells had always been hard for her. Her arms and legs ached with exhaustion as she curved around the limestone and continued digging.

But Master is strange, she concluded. He acts nothing like my Mistress did, or the other dungeon makers she invited to her dungeon. He has not beaten me or shouted at me for being here without his permission. I hope he is not saving up his anger for one major punishment. When Mistress did that it took days to recover.

A section of clay made things easier for a while. There was no rock there, though the tunnel walls would, of course, need reinforcing when Rook was able.

As she worked, she thought about the way he looked, so bold and strong. All dungeon keepers were beautiful, of course, in their own ways. Mistress had the refined silkiness of a seducer, while the ArchDuke carried himself with a refinement that came with age. Rook was different. Even when she stood, he towered over her. His thick body and powerful arms made her think of what a cave troll might look like if it shapeshifted into human form. The shock of black hair on his head and the matted beard on his chin reminded her of the feathers of her Mistress’s crow familiar. But most of all it was the intensity of his gaze that excited her. Drow were attracted to danger and pleasure, and he pleased her as much as he confused her.

Light bled from the cave as time passed towards evening. Only Lupa’s dark sight allowed her to see the composition of the dirt she tunneled through. Gasping for air, she leaned against the wall. It had been hours since she started digging. She was exhausted and filthy from the chips of stone and scattering of dirt that escaped her magic’s pull. A few minutes’ rest would probably be enough to continue, but even that was another delay, another risk that Rook would be back before she was done. Licking her parched lips, she pushed on.

She felt dizzy with exhaustion when she finally reached the turning point Rook had indicated. Her limbs trembled, her head swam. She had to finish, but she could barely move.

Lupa focused her awareness skill on the area ahead. It was a mix of rough soil and loose rock. If she pushed herself, she could make it. A brilliance pierced her mind, drawing her attention to an object in the scree ahead.

She grinned.

A trove! She’d found a dungeon treasure trove!

She was safe.

Surely Rook could not be angry with her if she presented him with a number of treasures that would help him build his dungeon, even if she failed to complete her task. It wasn’t uncommon to find a single minion card, trinket, room stone or blueprint while excavating a dungeon passage, but troves were different. They held several items, not just one. Mistress had owned her for years and in all that time had only found two troves. This would be a wonderful gift for Rook, and it lay just 43 feet ahead of her.

Lupa called out the incantation, casting the dig spell once more. Hope renewed, she pressed forward. It was still slow, but at least she had a goal, one she could reach in less than an hour. Praying again to the deep lords that Rook would not return before she dug out the trove, she wove and twisted the magic around her as fast as she was able.

Nausea threatened to overpower her as she forced herself to continue, but she would not relent. She could not. Not if she wanted to ensure she was safe from Rook’s anger when he returned and found the tunnel unfinished. Lupa fought the demands of her own body until she reached the location she’d found. A twist of her wrist, a tug of her arm, and the dirt around the trove cleared.

It lay before her, a thin steel box barely a foot in depth and three in width. She stumbled, falling onto it as the last of her energy drained away. Her arms clutched the metal to her breast. She couldn’t open it, only the dungeon’s maker could do that, but she held it like a shield from whatever harm might befall such a failure. Slowly her vision began to fade as she slipped into an uncomfortable sleep.

“Lupa, I’m back!”

Rook’s voice echoed through the tunnel. Lupa woke with a start and clung tightly to the treasure trove. She still felt drained. Pain pulsed in her entire body. She’d tried so hard to meet his demand, and failed. Light swung across the ground around her as he approached.

“I brought food. Apparently the woman the ArchDuke’s guards killed was the sister of the cook at… Oh, great gods! What happened?”

“I’m sorry…”

Rook put down his lantern and the box of food he was carrying and knelt next to her. He brushed the hair from her face and helped her to a sitting position. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him. Slowly he rocked her back and forth.

“What happened?” he asked. “Did someone attack you?”

“No,” she murmured. “I’m sorry. I tried…”

“Tried?”

He looked around at the work she’d done, frowning. Lupa leaned into his body, enjoying the embrace.

“To… reach the hearth, Rook… I tried.”

“Wait... Have you been working since I left? I didn’t know. I thought it was just a spell so it would be easy. I’m sorry, Lupa. I didn’t know. I should have asked!”

“I failed you,” she said.

He shook his head. “No. No, you didn’t. I failed you by telling you to do something that was too hard.”

Pausing for a moment, Rook studied the wall ahead.

“And you got so close too! You’re only a few feet away.”

“Y-you’re not angry?”

She looked up at him, once more confused. This wasn’t normal. It wasn’t right.

“Angry? Why would I be angry at you working hard? That doesn’t make sense, Lupa.”

“Because I f—”

He put a finger to her lips, silencing her.

“Your old mistress used to beat you, didn’t she?”

She nodded. Of course she had, any time Lupa had failed. After all, minions were meant to succeed. They were meant to do whatever a dungeon keeper said.

“Lupa,” he said, his lips as tight as his eyes had become. “I want you to know something. This is not her dungeon, it’s mine. I will never punish you, least of all for trying to help me. And if I ever get the chance I will make her pay for every lash, every slap, every cut and every bruise she ever caused you. NOBODY has the right to do that.”

She shook her head at his words. They made no sense. The hearth was helping her recover, but she’d driven herself so hard that it would take a little more time to regain her strength, and her focus.

“Dungeon keepers always have the right to punish us.”

He looked like he was about to say something, but instead he just rocked her soothingly against him. She pressed herself into his embrace, seeking comfort. Master was strange, it was true, but he seemed to accept her need for reassurance without question. For several minutes he held her in his comforting embrace. His fingers brushed a strand of hair from her face. She laid a hand on his, her fingers curling into his palm when he took hold of it gently.

As she calmed, he eased her into a sitting position and reached for the wooden box he’d put down near them.

“I brought food,” he said.

When he removed the wooden lid, the sweet and savoury aroma of the food inside hit her. She felt she should deny being hungry, but her stomach growled loud enough to make a lie of that before she could speak. He pulled out two large bowls, sealed with muslin cloth and pottery tops.

“Everhot Hotpots,” he said, placing one in front of her.

As she reached for the food she remembered the gift she held.

“I… I found something, Rook.” She held the box towards him. “It’s a treasure trove.”

He smiled. “You keep it. You found it.”

“No, it’s for you. It’s a treasure trove. Please, open it.”

“I will,” he said, “but you need to eat. Or are you training your stomach to sing?”

His laughter pleased her and she dared to join in. She pulled the bowl to her and removed the lid, marvelling at the thick stew within. As she did, Rook examined the box. There was no lock to open; it was bound and sealed for him by magic. He slowly opened it and looked inside.

“What are these?” he asked.

“They’re dungeon treasures, Rook.”

“I don’t understand.”

Lupa paused, with a spoonful of meat and vegetables halfway to her mouth. How could he know nothing about being a dungeon maker? He had a dungeon, even if he hadn’t even begun to dig it out yet. He had to know something. This, however, was yet another thing that seemed alien to him.

“They’re dungeon treasures,” Lupa repeated, trying to teach him the phrase. “You use them to improve your dungeon.”

“How?”

“It depends. The best way is to feed them to the fire in your hearth. That will allow you to learn them so that you can summon or create what they teach repeatedly. But that takes mana and understanding. I do not know how much of that you have.”

Rook shrugged. “None, I’m guessing. You said there’s another way?”

“Yes. You can focus on the treasures themselves rather than your dungeon’s memory of them. That will allow you to use them once, for free, but how well you can use them depends on your manipulation skill.”

He glanced up from the items in the box and grinned. “Manipulation? Oh, I have 28 in that. It increased when I was playing cards in the tavern. I gained lots of other levels too. My awareness went up to 11 just from watching people!”

Lupa winced. 28 was low, better than a cave troll maybe, but a dungeon maker should have a much better rating. Yet, how could she tell him that? Insulting him was sure to make him beat her. But if she didn’t tell him, he’d be upset when he saw how weak the results of his treasures were.

“Lupa,” he said quietly. “I can see there’s something you’re not saying.”

She pulled away from him and swallowed. “28 is… it’s not high, Rook. That means your treasures will only make weaker things. I’m sorry.”

His gaze pinned her like n adventurer in an interrogation chamber. She waited for him to lash out, but he never did. Instead, he bit his lip.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” he said. “Not now, not ever for helping me learn. I thought 28 was good, but I’m really weak, aren’t I?”

“You can get stronger,” she said. “Every time you use a skill, or a spell, it moves you towards the next level. Higher levels take longer, but if you keep practicing, then you will always improve.”

“Fine,” Rook said. “Thank you for telling me. I guess I should start working on my skills then. All of them.”

Rook reached for his own food and began to eat. In truth, he felt almost as hungry as Lupa’s belly sounded. He hadn’t eaten since that morning and it had hardly been a restful day. He pulled two bread buns from the box, handing one to her.

“Berry bread,” he said. “Try it. The sweetness goes really well with the savoury sauce.”

Lupa accepted the bread gratefully. She’d never eaten food like this before, though it did remind her of what she had seen the Mistress eat sometimes. She bit into the bun and moaned as her tongue tasted fruit for the first time.

As she ate, Rook turned his attention back to the trove. One by one he pulled out the objects within it, turning them in his grasp as he studied them carefully.

There were three pieces of folded parchment. When he unfolded them, he saw they contained various designs. The first of them showed a picture of a sturdy-looking wooden chest with a curved top and a padlock holding it closed. The words “Standard Chest” identified what it was. The was a picture of a series of poles pieced together to form struts. Angles, lengths and marks showing weight and stress defined the structure. At the top of the page was the title “Wooden Supports.” The last was labelled “Dark Fog” and pictured a section of earthen corridor in which an area of mist with fuzzy edges had been drawn. Rook showed them to Lupa.

“What are these for?”

“They’re feature blueprints,” she said. “You use them to add major features to a room or tunnel. And these are good.”

“How so?”

“Well, the chest can probably wait,” she said, considering the current needs of the dungeon. “It’s for storing treasure. Unless you have a lot, you can just keep it in your hearth for now. But the wooden supports would be great for this tunnel. There’s a lot of earth and clay. Shoring it up with beams would help. And the dark fog makes it impossible to see in a small area of the dungeon. At your skill level it will probably be about a 10-foot sphere.”

“Why would I want that?”

“To stop any adventurers finding your dungeon, Rook,” she said, again taken aback by his lack of knowledge.

“Adventurers?”

Rook appeared lost in thought for a moment. He slapped his forehead startling her.

“Oh god, THAT’S what that was all about?”

Lupa waited for him to explain. When he didn’t, she asked what he was talking about.

“In the tavern over in Wallsend,” he said. “I was just enjoying a pint when a bunch of arseholes came in singing and shouting, armed to the teeth. They were going on about raiding a dungeon. I thought they were drunk or something and I wasn’t going to get involved with that kind of trouble! People like that come after us?”

“Yes,” said Lupa, struggling to see why he was so surprised. “People hire them because they’re afraid of minions. Sometimes they just find us too and hope to get rich off any treasures we have. That’s what happened to Mistress one time. We did beat the adventurers, but they killed a lot of us first.”

Rook slumped against the tunnel wall, his head hanging low. If he’d seemed frightening and powerful to her before he looked like a scared little goblin now. The treasure trove fell from his hands, spilling the remaining contents on the ground.

Lupa wrapped her arms around him as he had done to comfort her. Taking the last of her own bread she raised it towards his mouth.

“Eat, Rook,” she said. “You’ll feel better.”

For a moment, they sat together in shared comfort.

“This is a mess,” he said at last. “Why would anyone even make a dungeon?”

“To protect your hearth, of course.”

“Who cares about that? I mean it’s useful for healing, I know, but if bands of crazed adventurers keep invading we’ll NEED healing more than if we’re not here.”

She breathed in slowly, and exhaled with a deep sigh. He didn’t understand at all and that meant he was in danger.

“Rook,” she said. “You have to protect it. If someone destroys your hearth, you die.”

“So let’s leave it buried, then there won’t be a risk.”

“There will. Other dungeon makers will see you as a threat to them. So they’ll come after your hearth before you can attack theirs.”

“Why? I’m not doing anything to them!”

“But you could. You might expand your dungeon into their area. And you’ll be challenging them for control of the surface world too.”

“Control of the… Lupa, what in all the infernal reaches are you talking about?”

“Your dungeon exerts power. I don’t know exactly how it works because my Mistress never let me help on the surface, but a strong dungeon maker becomes a surface world leader too. Like the ArchDuke, or my Mistress.”

“But I’ve never heard of your…” Rook stopped. He frowned and closed his eyes. When he spoke again it was with the quiet trepidation of someone who had just realized something horrific. “Your old mistress is Baroness Nathari, isn’t she?”

“That was what the ArchDuke called her, yes. She was always Mistress to me.”

“I remember my father telling me about her coming to power a year before I was born. He said she had killed the old Baron, but nobody knew how. Oh god, are you telling me just by having a hearth I’ve made an enemy of the bloody baroness?”

“Well, yes.”

“Fuck. So I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.”

“That’s why you build up your dungeon, Rook,” Lupa said.

She smiled, hoping if she was encouraging enough he would regain the strength he’d shown when she first met him. Four items from the trove lay on the rocky ground in front of him. Two were cards and two were stones. She grabbed the cards first.

“Look, minion cards!” she said. “You can use them to summon other minions to serve you, just like I do.”

Rook took them from her, turning them over. The cards were about seven inches tall by three wide, and showed a beautifully painted image of a minion on each. At the top of each card was a name for the type of creature each would summon written in ornate calligraphic script.

The first, “Swarm”, showed a mass of flies, hovering over a pack of rats that scampered on the floor. Rook’s lip curled as he looked at them.

“Why would I want rats or flies?” he asked.

“A distraction,” said Lupa. “Some of them carry nasty poisons or quick acting diseases that will weaken your enemies as well. They can live off the waste from your dungeon too, so they clean the place up a bit and you don’t have to feed them or anything.”

Rook seemed lost in thought for a moment before he looked at the other card. It showed a sturdy looking dwarf male in leather armor, a surly scowl making it look like he was ready for a fight. He carried a weapon that had a heavy axe blade on one side and a pick axe head on the other. The nameplate read “Dark Dwarf.”

“Rook! A dark dwarf!” said Lupa. “A miner! They can fight a bit too if needed, but they’re the best at digging tunnels.”

Rook beamed at her. “You mentioned them earlier. Let’s summon one, then you won’t need to use your dig spell anymore.”

Lupa cringed. He’d said it, she wouldn’t have to dig. She wouldn’t be needed. Of course, as her master, he deserved the best help, but where did that leave her?

“What’s wrong?” asked Rook, reaching for her.

“You’re right,” she said. “I’m no use to you now.”

“What are you talking about?” he said. “Lupa! Your dig spell was a help, yes, but I don’t need you for that. If I have to, I can go buy a shovel or something and dig the tunnel myself. What I can’t do is understand this place. Not without your help. You know about all this stuff and I’ve never even heard of it.”

“You… you still want me?”

“Of course I do. More than want, I need you!”

She’d never heard anyone say that before. Mistress said Lupa was the worst mistake she’d ever made. This felt good; shocking in the degree of change she had to believe in, but good.

“Now,” said Rook. “How do I use these minion cards?”

“I think you just have to concentrate on them and imagine the minion in front of you,” said Lupa. In truth, she wasn’t sure. That was what Mistress had seemed to do, but she’d never explained it.

Rook held the Swarm card up and stared at it. For over a minute he just looked and frowned. Eventually, with a sigh, he looked up.

“I don’t think it works like—”

The air lit up as a number of shining balls, barely bigger than pebbles, appeared between them. It was a soft glow, filling just a few feet of tunnel with a radiance more like moonlight than a lantern. The balls spun and pirouetted in midair, leaving brief trails of blue and green sparkles behind them. The swarm card slowly fell apart, drifting to the ground like dust.

“They’re beautiful!” said Rook.

Lupa nodded. “They’re bog lights. They won’t be able to help you in a fight, but they provide some light. Mistress used them when she didn’t want to use a glow spell or everburning lantern.”

“Oh then they’re essential! I can’t afford magical items and I don’t know how to cast spells.”

Lupa took hold of his hand, curling her fingers between his, and smiled at him. “You’ll learn how, Rook. Over time, you will. Mistress learned lots of spells while she had me.”

“That should be fun,” he said. “But right now I’m wondering what actually made the lights appear. Nothing happened when I looked at the card.”

That was true. Lupa thought about it, trying to pair what had happened with what she’d seen Mistress do. She had looked at the cards, and Lupa always assumed that’s what summoned the minion. She hadn’t done anything special apart from that.

Then it hit her.

“They appeared where you looked!”

“What?”

“You focus on the card to let your mind hold them I think, but they only appear when you look up… and wherever you look must be where you summon them.”

“That makes sense,” said Rook. “I didn’t think of that. Thanks, Lupa. Now, let’s get our dwarf friend shall we?”

Rook placed the cover back on his food and stared at the remaining card. After a few seconds, he looked up and a dwarf appeared. This minion seemed far less impressive than the one on the now-disintegrating minion card. He was younger, his face unlined, his beard barely developed. His lean physique lacked the powerful muscles of the dwarf in the picture. He wore scraps of thin and ragged leather too, not the full armor the art depicted. And he bore a tool that was only a pickaxe, lacking the combat axe head completely.

“He looks… different,” said Rook.

“He’s an apprentice,” said Lupa. “The one on the card was a chief.”

"Kthesby ne el bolpe beb, neotthebo?” said the dwarf.

Rook blinked. “What did he just say?”

“He asked how he can serve you,” said Lupa.

"He doesn’t speak Patrianos?”

“No, Rook. He speaks dwarfish.”

“But you can understand him…”

“Yes, I lived with other minions for years. I speak most of their languages.”

Rook gave a short laugh. “And you thought I didn’t need you? Lupa, I can’t do ANY of this without you. Okay, can you tell him that I want him to tunnel through to the hearth for us, please? Oh, and tell him he can have the rest of my food when he’s done.”

“Of course!”

She began to speak in the guttural, harsh-sounding language the dwarf had spoken. As she did, Rook lay back against the tunnel wall and sighed.

“This,” he said. “Is going to be complicated.”

There are still two room stones left in the trove. Here are a selection of rooms, you may select your preferences from. (3 votes per person, top 2 will be revealed, I will decide between equal selections)

1 vote · Closes Oct 22, 2026, 4:37 PM (6 days from now)

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