The Crafter's Dominion: A Dungeon Core Novel (Dungeon Crafting Book 5) by Jonathan Brooks (e ink epub reader .txt) 📕

warn them of the impending danger, but maybe he could somehow convince a Master Blacksmith like Jespin to reveal the long-held and sacred secrets of how to produce their unique armor and weapons to a strange dungeon located in the middle of the wasteland, while hostile dungeons and their deadly monsters surrounded them from every direction.  That seems much simpler, right?

“Raw materials?  What do you mean by that?”

The question took Gerold by surprise, especially at Jespin’s tone when he asked that.  It was almost as if the Master Blacksmith was a bit nervous.  “Well, Sandra takes bars or sheets of metals and then uses them on the things she crafts, as well as raw leather and other materials.  Why do you ask?”

The older Dwarf ignored his question.  “Yes, but where do these materials come from?  The Gnomes?”

Huh?  “Oh, it’s all dungeon-loot quality.  She creates it herself – vast quantities of it, in fact.  There was a rumor circulating among the villagers that Sandra had some sort of storeroom that held large amounts of materials, but I never actually saw it.  But I did see the Enchantment Repository; now that was an impressive sight, even if I don’t know much about enchant—”

“She just…creates it?  Out of thin air?”

Gerold was really curious where this line of questioning was going, because he couldn’t figure it out.  “Well…I don’t know the precise process, but I believe she needs to use some of her own ‘energy’ – that I think I remember her calling ‘mana’ – to create the materials, just like she creates the dungeon loot that is used to create her constructs and other monsters.  You should really see these metal Apes that she has; they wield these titanium warhammers that are extremely effective…”

Gerold trailed off as Master Blacksmith Jespin reached into his soot-stained leather vest, pulling something from an internal pocket.  With a trembling hand, the older Dwarf stretched out his arm with his closed fist, before slowly revealing what he had taken out.

It was a small orb of very unfamiliar metal, only about as big as the tip of Jespin’s thumb.  The disgraced Shieldman couldn’t see what was so special about it, until the little light filtering in from outside of the cells hit it in just the right way.  The metal wasn’t colored like copper, iron, steel, silver, gold, platinum, titanium, or any other type he’d seen before; instead, it had a dark-blue tint to it, with almost rainbow-like swirls and striations seeming to float above it like oil floating on top of water.  It was almost hypnotizing just looking at it, as the swirls seemed to move while he was watching.

“What—?”  He tried to ask what it was, but he was at a loss of words at the metal’s sheer beauty.  He wasn’t a blacksmith that worked with metals all the time, but being a Dwarf meant he could appreciate the beauty of a pure loot orb of a quality metal – and this was certainly a quality metal.

“This is—”

Whatever Master Blacksmith Jespin was going to say was interrupted as the entire mountain seemed to shake.

Chapter 9

It wasn’t so much of a violent shake as it was a gentle rumbling.  A rhythmic rumbling, to be more precise.  It took Gerold a moment to puzzle through what it was, but one look at the old Dwarf standing across from him was enough to confirm it for him.

The Drums of War were sounding through Stonebrink Hall.

“War” was a bit of a misnomer, as it was more of a “defense” than anything.  If there was ever a direct attack on their stronghold by dungeon monsters, the Drums would reverberate throughout the entire Hall to alert everyone inside.  Non-combatants would flee to relative safety further inside the mountain, while anyone who could hold a weapon to defend their people would head to the front lines, just behind the Shieldmen to act as a final defense.  It didn’t happen very often, and it had never happened while Gerold had been around, but had known that it was always in the realm of possibility.

Historically, if something like that happened, the Shieldmen would beat back the attack and then eliminate whatever dungeon had extended itself far enough to threaten them.  The mountain ranges that the Dwarves inhabited were located near the center of their lands, where the dungeons were mostly found around the perimeter forests, along with some random outcroppings found scattered throughout.  It was usually these dungeons that were able to get close enough to threaten them, and they typically assaulted the highly defended Hall entrance; it was extremely rare for them to accumulate enough power and influence to actually break into their stronghold from below.

“I have to go.”  Jespin seemed to be in a trance as he walked out, closing the multiple doors behind him as he left.  The drums and vibration were so loud that the Master Blacksmith didn’t even hear Gerold screaming at him to stop.

“Wait!  I can help!  Don’t leave me down here!”  All his efforts to be heard more than a little were drowned out, unheard by the retreating Dwarf, and Gerold was stuck being by himself again, worried out of his mind.  Regardless of what the Shieldmen and even his family thought of him, he still cared about his people and wanted to join the defense – even if he didn’t have his armor anymore.  He could still swing an axe and carry a shield, after all.

But no one came to let him out, even to help defend the Hall under attack by dungeon monsters.  After 15 minutes, the Drums stopped, though that didn’t mean the danger had passed; instead, it was likely only beginning.

By his estimation, nearly half a day later, Gerold was starting to get hungry; no one had come to feed him like normal.  He had no idea what time it was, nor if his worry