The amount of obsidian I was using in the design of the place satisfied my penchant for black, and it was fitting for an Infernal dungeon, but it had the unfortunate side-effect of making Zagorath darker than the rooms used for developing old-school photographs. I didn’t care; I could sense everything as a dungeon core and Von Dominus had permanent night-vision. But the lack of light might deter some adventurers. Some would bring torches, sure, and some might even possess a night-vision like my avatar, but I wanted a little light to attract them deeper into my dungeon. I wanted visitors to gaze upon the terrifying splendor of my champions before they were brutally cut down.
I chewed on the problem while thinking back to the Gavin fight. The forge had been a perfect light source, but I couldn’t have it open to the adventurers. An idea struck me, and I sliced out hair-thin lines into the wall with the etching of the imposing bat. I outlined the designs I’d placed into it until the scarlet light from the soul forge bled through the gaps. The bat’s huge, slitted eyes shone the brightest, but I made damn sure the openings for the light were far too tight for even an arrow to slip through.
It didn’t quite illuminate the entire antechamber, but it was eyecatching and threatening. Long shadows reached across the obsidian floor from the glowing bat and almost touched the entrance tunnel. The sight sent ripples of pleasure over my gem as I considered the terror that would enter adventurers’ hearts when they descended the stairs to this room.
The thought of stairs made me undergo a much more grandiose project.
I began with two wide and sweeping staircases that curved from either side of the enormous bat carving. I consumed Physical Essence from the mountainside and immediately used it to fashion the steps. When they were complete, I excavated a room directly beneath the antechamber. It was much larger than the floor above it; 50 feet high, 400 feet long, and 100 feet wide.
At almost the size of a football field, only a mountain as large as Shadow Crag could hold so grand a room. The sheer size reminded me of a throne room in an ancient castle stronghold, and the thought gave me another idea.
I decided it was time to get far more into character as the Viceroy of the Infernal Goddess.
Turning the obsidian floors to liquid, I carefully constructed two lanes from the staircase that twisted in and around themselves, curling into each other like a pretzel loop. A satisfied flicker ran through my jewel as I realized the Pretzel was a perfect name for the design. After I chuckled a little at the ridiculousness of the name, I constructed a single passage leading to the other side of the enormous chamber.
My essence was in a constant flux, now; I’d found a perfect flow cycle. I could only hold so much Physical Essence, so I consumed as much as I had and then emptied three-quarters of it into the decoration for my simple maze. It was less of a maze, really, and more a funnel. Adventurers would race straight into what was quickly becoming my throne room, but I would have time to prepare for their arrival.
Within the curves of the new tunnels, I made sure to place six small alcoves. I built small demonic altars inside each where I intended on placing rewards for those who made it that far.
I chuckled grimly at the thought. If they made it that far.
Anyone who snatched the items from the altars would be unable to resist diving further into the dungeon with the hopes of securing more powerful loot.
But they would find me.
And what would I look like when I greeted them?
I banked the thought as I opened up smaller tunnels and connected them with the vents. The bats I’d spawned earlier fluttered through their new playground. I lengthened the tunnel and made it run beneath the stairs and into the Pretzel treasure rooms.
The name was beginning to stick, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to come up with a sufficiently awesome one for it later. Hey, as long as it did the job.
Once the Pretzel side-altars, alcoves, and bat vents were in place, I remembered my champions. All this time and I hadn’t even spoken to them. I cast my mind to the chamber above where Bertha was meditating again, sitting cross-legged in the center of the antechamber. The curve of her breast rose and fell softly as she inhaled and exhaled. Puck wasn’t so easily entertained with silence—he’d made a game out of seeing how fast he could blast through the new bat vents without braining himself on the tighter corners.
Well, at least they were occupied.
My work was more important—I needed to keep pushing, expanding. There was no telling when Gavin’s guild would be on their way. Zagorath was the last bastion of faith in Lilith, and I needed to decorate it accordingly.
I cast my consciousness back to the empty, black space. The football-sized throne room was missing something essential.
Von Dominus needed a throne. Somewhere to rest, plan, and plot his next move—probably over steepled fingers. The Evil Overlord thing was starting to get to my head, but it was too damn fun to avoid. I didn’t have a blueprint for the perfect throne, so I improvised by carving out a raised dais opposite the corridor connecting it to the Pretzel. A 400-foot expanse separated the corridor from the dais, and it would be quite the daunting task for adventurers to confront me.
It was perfect.
I elevated the dais a little more and formed six steps connecting it to the ground. I decided I’d call this my First Floor, and instead of keeping my dungeon core inside the Forge Chamber, I wanted it here. I
