Director D.Z.
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Doom Dungeon Descent (Adventurer TFMC)
🕑 Added 2025-05-21 17:00:08 +0000 UTCHey folks!
We've moved on from my birthday month to my birthday week! Alas, I am far too old to celebrate it with parties and gifts and whatnot, but everyone still has to be nice to me all the same.
And in honor of this special occasion (and totally not just by coincidence, no not at all) I'm actually trying out something new for you guys this week. A little test run of something I'd kind of like to get into around here. Check out my other post this week for details!
In the meantime, a commissioner asked me for something in the vein of a dark fantasy fic, and you know... Honestly I'm not sure I can be grim enough for proper dark fantasy, so instead have this fic! Hope you enjoy.
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A door opens at the edge of my awareness.
Ah. Guests have arrived. This should be fun.
It creaks as it opens, grudgingly allowing torchlight from beyond the threshold to spill through. Footsteps, the sound of steel on stone and the clank of heavy armour fill my halls. One, two, three, four… Five. I count five of them, slowly filtering in to my dungeon. An Adventuring party.
How delightful. It’s been some time since I’ve had a proper meal.
“This is the place.” Torch in hand, a Paladin with shining red hair is the first to enter, leading the way into the entrance hall with confident boldness. “Keep your senses sharp. This dungeon’s claimed a lot of overconfident Adventurers over the years.”
She sounds experienced, though her face shows none of the hallmarks of age. Mm, but those pointed ears on the side of her head might explain that. Elves are so very slow to show the wear and tear of mortality. This one might be dangerous – she’ll be a priority target.
Following in her shadow is a smaller woman, dressed in slightly ill-fitting white robes, and carrying a staff that radiates with holy energy. A Cleric. And far from the most impressive specimen I’ve ever seen. Her eyes are wide as she looked around. “Wow. It’s so… dark.”
My my. Holy incanters are normally priority targets as well, but this one seems too wet behind the ears to be a threat. And the pink hair I see peaking out from beneath her hood is cute. I think I may enjoy playing with her.
“Dungeons tend to be.” Behind her, a dark-haired woman casually slouches down the stairs, hands in her pockets. Her gear is mostly leather – lighter than the redhead’s, but offering much less protection for that benefit. I recognise a Rogue when I see one. “Just don’t go rushing on ahead. We lose most party members that way.”
Mm. Do I… Yes, I believe I recognise this one. She’s visited before. Her kind are always amusing. I wonder if she’ll entertain me today?
“We’ll be careful!” And, bringing up the rear, a blonde young woman of similar age to the Cleric, this one dressed in dark robes and a witch’s hat. “We know what we’re doing, don’t worry.”
A Mage, obviously. That would be fairly standard, for an Adventuring party. She seems just as awed as her pink-haired friend, so I’ll assume she’s just as much of a rookie. Perhaps she’ll be just as much fun to play with.
The Rogue snorts. “I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve heard that one.”
So have I.
“Go easy on the newbies, Jenn,” the Paladin called back, still steadily clearing her way down the corridor, eyes searching the darkness for potential threats. “They’ll do fine.”
The brunette folded her arms – though just like the Paladin, her eyes are focused. Sharp. She hasn’t forgotten where she is. “We’ll see.”
“We’re not ‘newbies’,” the Mage protests. “We’re fully qualified Adventurers – we’ve passed our trials and everything. You’ll see – this’ll be a piece of cake.” She nodded proudly to herself – then sneezed. “Bleh. The air’s so musty down here…”
Heh. Well they’re cute. And most certainly doomed. This is my dungeon, and if they’re coming in to my domain to steal my treasures, then it’s only fair I make them replace whatever they take, yes? Just because I’m going to enjoy the process doesn’t mean it’s any less justified~
Ah, but wait. I counted five pairs of footsteps, and now I see four Adventures in my halls. So where’s…
“Lo~” A musical note echoes through the entrance hall. Oh no. Oh no no no. Not one of them.
“Take heart, simple fellows, and worry not why~
Our riches from this venture, will take us sky high!”
Noooo, it is. It’s a Bard. Green hair, dressed in revealing silks, no question of what she does for a living. And she’s got a lute. Ugh, these things are the absolute worst kind of Adventurer! Sure, Alchemists get goop everywhere, and Beastmasters never clean up after their pets, but Bards are indefensible.
“Don’t worry, I’ll support you, my music will enlight~
Your buffs will all be potent when it comes the time to fight~”
Nope! No, I will not put up with this. I like my dungeon morose and gloomy. Chipper music clashes with my themes horribly – and the sound echoes down here like a bitch. I will not have this nonsense going for one second longer than it must. Screw every other priority – she’s target number one. What traps do I have in the entrance hall to deal with her?
… Tch. No. Be patient. My irritation is nothing compared to the risk. After all, if I act too quickly, she might escape back to the surface and breed. Then I’ll be dealing with an infestation. I must hold on, at least for a little while longer. Long enough for them to be in too deep to escape me. I do want some of them to reach the lowest chambers, after all…
To that end, I’ve designed my dungeon with ruthless efficiency. The early rooms are ‘easy’ – some goblins, some undead, a few trolls… Big, lumbering brutes with muscles or dust instead of brains. Enough to scare off the weak (or add to the undead’s numbers) but nothing too taxing for a strong party. A minimum bar of entry.
The party acquits itself well, though I wish that Bard would shut up. The Paladin is sturdy enough to protect the others, while the casters are sensible enough to remain behind her, while the Rogue is adept at slipping into the shadows and striking weak points with critical precision. They move through the first floor quickly, soon reaching the treasure chamber at the end, along with the stairs down.
Naturally, the treasure here isn’t much. A few gold coins and some ‘interesting’ pieces of equipment. Nothing that would justify their expenses for coming all the way out here. Just a little to wet their whistles, as it were. Though, I do give them one fun item, just to test their skill level.
“20 gold each, a pair of healing potions, a vial of poison, a pair of cloth boots, a stave of minor opening, and a helm of protection.” The Paladin, clearly the leader of the group, goes through their take, handing out the gold equally. How fair minded of her. “Any takers?”
“Yo.” The Rogue raises her hand, and the Paladin passes her the vial without comment.
“I might want to study the boots back at home. I’m trying to raise up my clothcraft…” That was the Cleric, who receives the shoes with a grateful nod.
“Stave of opening! Over here!” There’s the Mage, naturally excited to get a magic stick.
“Minor opening,” the elf corrects her as she hands it over. “Remember it’s not as powerful as a full version. And I guess the helm is for me.”
She takes it from the chest and slides it over her head after removing the circlet she was wearing before, hiding her face from view. She’s somewhat more intimidating now, I suppose, though it hardly matters to my sight. In this dungeon I can see her face clear as day.
“And since you didn’t get anything else, the potions are yours.” She passes the last bits of loot out to the Bard, utterly wasting them, but who am I to judge?
“Another win for us, we’ve planted our flag~
More rooms like those four and this dungeon’s in the bag~!”
Yes, shut up, thank you.
“Are we good to continue?” The Paladin looks around at the party, seeing them all nod. I’m not surprised. They’ve barely spent any mana, and they’re still at full health. There’s no reason to turn back – as far as they know. So, falling back into marching order, they head to the stairs, and start climbing down.
But deary me, it seems this party isn’t quite as professional as they think. Imagine taking all of that loot and not inspecting it for curses and traps first! A rookie mistake, that. I expected better. That’s why I didn’t bother to curse or trap the loot… Well, more fool me, I suppose.
If I’d known they were going to be that incurious, I would have saved this trick for the next level and done something simpler this time. Oh well. This is what I get for pushing the boat out.
So! Which one of these fools just equipped a mimic, hm?
Yes, that seemed like a suitable welcome to the dungeon. Mimics are such wonderful creatures. They adapt harmless, innocuous forms until their prey lets their guards down, and then once their target is vulnerable, they strike. And I’ve found that hiding one of them as a piece of equipment just makes what follows that much sweeter. It’s so much fun, and even I can’t tell which item was the… Oh! Oho. Now I see.
It was the helmet.
A light tickle in those beautiful elven ears is all the warning our lovely Paladin gets that something’s not quite right. Does she even register it? Does she realise that feeling is from the mimic’s tendrils gently flowing in down through her ears, sliding numbly into her brain? Unlike her companions, my senses in this dungeon allow me to see her eyes as it happens – to see what might have been the slightest shimmer of confusion, perhaps even alarm, cross her face…
But it’s far too late. Painlessly, the mimic attaches itself to the poor Adventurer’s brain, linking into her central nervous system and stealing control of her body away from her. There’s the slightest twitch, the only sign that the outside world sees of her struggle, and then the fight is over. Her body continues to march, robotically descending the stairs, but the Paladin is no longer in charge. She’s not even able to let out so much as a squeak before it takes her vocal cords as well.
Perhaps now she is starting to panic. I can see it in her eyes, her expression twisting into silent fear… But even that is temporary. Soon, her eyes begin to glaze, her fear turning into stupefied pleasure as the mimic starts to suck the thoughts out of her head, draining away her panic, along with any thoughts about why she should be panicking in the first place. Her lips spread into a sweet, dazed smile as her eyelids flutter.
Soon she’s dripping in other places too. Her legs continue to march, even as the space between them grows increasingly damp. Having her mind absorbed feels like the ultimate bliss, I suspect. The endorphins swimming in her emptying brain probably have a lot to do with that. Plus it must be quite the relief, being relieved of all of those memories and burdens. Surely it must be – look at how quickly they’re disappearing from our unfortunate brave knight~!
Her pupils are starting to shrink now – a little visual indicator of how much of her mind, how much of her self, is left in her. If her companions could see her face, perhaps they could try to help her – but as they cannot, alas, it does no good. Only I get to enjoy the show as they grow smaller and smaller, drool starting to pour from her lips as all sense and personality is erased from her skull.
And then it’s done. Her eyes are pure white, her jaw slack, tongue lolling from her mouth. Drool might pool in the bottom of her helm for a while, and juices may drip down the inside of her thighs, but there’s no mind behind any of it anymore. The Paladin has been wiped clean – now there’s just a mindless mount for a mimic.
One down.
The remaining four remain completely oblivious to the loss of their leader. After all, why should they suspect anything is amiss? There she is, marching on ahead at the front of the group, leading them onwards.
“So how far down do we have to go until the loot gets good?
“At least a few more floors.”
“Well, at least I’m getting good spellcasting practice in…”
Meaningless chatter flows through the group as it descends. None of it important. Soon enough, they’ve reached the second floor, and begun to ‘adventure’ through it. The monsters down here are a little more serious, but nothing worth mentioning.
“The air smells sweeter down here, don’t you think?”
Hm. The Cleric is observant, noticing the pollen in the air. Nice of her to notice – most don’t. It won’t save her, but even I like to know that my work is appreciated.
I do find it amusing that none of them have noticed the Paladin’s new status though. She’s just standing there getting hit, never attacking back, and all of them seem to think it’s completely normal. I can blame part of that on the pollen, but it’s still impressive obliviousness.
But speaking of work, I consider, for a moment, playing the same trick again. Would I get away with draining the mage’s brain if I gave her a nice pointy hat mimic? The Cleric if I snuck one into her hood? But no, it’s no fun if I just repeat myself endlessly. Each floor deserves a new trick, no?
So this time, the third room on the floor is different. There’s no monsters, no spikes shooting out of the wall. There’s simply a big pile of gold! Lovely, glittery gold. Tempting, delightful, aaabsolutely not a trap at all gold. Look, silly Adventurers! Look at all the wealth!
Alright, I admit, this one’s rather obvious. It’s still a little early for the sneaky traps, after all. But I’m curious to see if any of them will-
“Oh, look at that, all this gold out for free~
Don’t mind if I do, this helping’s for me~”
… Hehehe~
Ahhh, well, looks like my little Bard problem is about to handle itself. The Rogue’s just rolling her eyes, and the other two Casters are just looking uncertain. If the Paladin were still in her right mind, instead of having been turned into a thoughtless drone husk, I wonder if she might have tried to intervene? Good thing I got her first, huh?
So I certainly enjoy the show as the green haired pest scoots over to the pile of gold and starts scooping up the wealth, shovelling it into her bag by the handful. Perhaps I’ve been unfair to Bards. Sure, they’re annoying and unpleasant to deal with, but they’re also stupid and so easy to trap.
Take, for instance, all of this greed gold! Now, greed gold is a wonderful thing. Whatever demon originally thought of it really understood the assignment. Just touching the stuff is enough to ignite the greed in anyone’s soul, steadily making them cruel, capricious, and completely obsessed with wealth. The longer they’re left like that, the worse it gets, with thoughts of gold dominating their lives more and more. Eventually, the obsession becomes so strong that -Ah, it’s already happening. Grabbing so much at once must really speed up the process.
It starts in her fingertips, her nails turning the same glittering gold as the coins she’s grabbing. Then the colour spreads through her fingers and down her palms, her hands locking up completely in their little grabby claw motion. She doesn’t notice, of course. She’s still far too focused on getting more gold.
It’s spreading faster now. The colour is seeping down her arms, but it’s showing up elsewhere, too. Her eyes have turned, shining bright gold. Her hair, too – it’s lightening to blonde, and freezing in place…
“Heehee~ It’s wonderful, it’s perfect, It’s just as I’ve told!
There’s nothing else needed when we’ve got all this g-!”
Oop, there goes her tongue, solidifying in her mouth. Doesn’t look like she minds though, what with that big golden grin she’s giving everyone. In fact, I’d say she’s just about-
Thunk!
Done. Ahhh, there we go. One solid gold statue, surrounded by a sea of golden coins. Beautiful. Her transformation left her a little unbalanced, so she topped straight over, but no matter. She’s not quite finished yet…
Clink!
There we go. Her solid golden form shatters, spilling out into hundreds of new golden coins. Each one has her face on one side, and her naked body on the other. And oh, look – her face has gold coins for eyes! I don’t need to use one of my mind reading minions to know what she’s thinking – the only thing she can think now~
‘Gold~Gold~Gold~Gold~’
See, now that’s a catchy tune.
“Uh.” The Cleric finally speaks up, looking nervously at the empty green silks laying under a pile of gold in front of her. “Shouldn’t we have stopped her…?”
“Nah.” The Rogue shrugs. “It was only a matter of time before something like that happened. Helen was always pretty flighty. And this way, we get some extra spending money – just don’t touch any of the cursed stuff.”
“Can’t… Can’t we turn her back?”
“Eh.”
The pink haired healer is frowning. “I feel like there’s something wrong about all of this…”
“Nah, don’t worry about it, it’s normal. Right Red?”
“Muuh.”
“See?”
The Mage pats her friend on the back. “It’s probably fine, right? I mean, they’re the experienced adventurers here.”
Cleric looks a little less than convinced, but doesn’t argue. “I guess…”
I’ll have to make sure she gets a bit more pollen.
But there we go! Two down. And it’s so peaceful down here now. Ahh, this has put me in a really good mood. Now, what treats shall I prepare for these three downstairs…?
I’m still considering the matter when they arrive, still led by the mindless shell of their leader. My, I was going to pull her away and put her on display somewhere, but if they really haven’t noticed I’m just going to keep the game going at this point. It’s too funny not to.
Floor three is where the monsters should be getting tougher, though not too tough. I do want at least one of these fools to make it to the end. They struggle, all the same. Without the Bard’s buffs and the Paladin’s leadership, their combat potential is clearly reduced. Still, they managed to win through the first few rooms, and I go easy on them in the fourth.
“A rest stop!”
“Oh thank the forces, I really overcast in that last room…”
“Yeah, how many fireballs was that?”
“Enough~”
Yes, this is something of an old trick used in many dungeons that Adventurers still haven’t cottoned on to somehow. Once they start getting deep in, facing bigger challenges, naturally, their courage will start to flag. They’ll suspect, correctly, that they’re beginning to push their luck, and the idea that they should leave with what they have will become very appealing to them.
Obviously, I can’t have that. These fools became mine to play with as I see fit the instant they first set foot into my territory, and I plan on getting my fill. Thus, I need to lure them ever deeper into the darkness, subtly beckoning them to walk to their dooms, without ever letting them realise they’ve over extended. And if I want to lure them in deeper, then I need to make them feel confident and refreshed enough to make that poor decision themselves!
I’m nudging the scales a little, too, of course. By now they’ve been breathing the pollen for some time. The sweet scent is intoxicating to their kind, and it should be making it a little difficult for them to think clearly… But every little helps, no?
So, yes, I have provided them a rest stop. A room completely devoid of monsters or traps. There’s just a few benches to rest on, and a general show of safety. A little peace and quiet to enjoy, before everything crashes down around them. It’s just common courtesy, you know?
They take my gift well. The Rouge goes to lean against the wall, scowling and being anti-social. The Paladin is taking her station guarding the door – which is to say, the mimic has steered its mount into the wall and no one has noticed yet. The Cleric is taking a seat to meditate and renew her faith in the accursed light. And the Mage is…
“Hey, what’s this?”
“What’s what?”
“This fountain here. It’s got an inscription.”
… Hm? Oh, now that’s odd. How long has that been there? I don’t use this room very often, but the last group of Adventurers made a complete mess of the other rest stop I typically offer (it has nicer carpets). This one does have a fountain in it though – has it been here since before I took over this dungeon?
“It says ‘For Clarity Of Mind, Drink Of These Clear Waters’.”
Huh. Must be a leftover trap from the last dungeon master. Cute, but a tad obvious, don’t you think? There’s no way anyone would ever-
“Score!” The Mage immediately bends down to start drinking, practically dunking her head under the water.
“W-wait, are you sure?
“Didn’t you hear? It’s gotta be, like, an intelligence boosting… thingy!” The blonde is already giggling, cursed waters dripping from her lips. “I’m gunna be the smartiest mage ever!”
… Well, given how smart this idiot was before she started drinking, this is probably going to hit her pretty hard. Indeed, I can already hear vapidity soaking into her voice as she speaks. Because ‘Clarity of Mind’ is quite obviously not going to make her smarter. The clearest mind is one that is completely transparent – which is to say, empty of thought. It’s so blatant that I’m not sure I can even blame the pollen for her lack of critical thinking…
“Oooohhh…” She takes another gulp. “I can totally feel it working!”
What you can feel, idiot, is your synapses spluttering into silence. The feeling of all those years you dedicated to learning how to cast spells and use magic becoming complete wastes of time. The growing sensation of every sip of that cursed water scrubbing your brain clean of the stains of knowledge and skill. I imagine that the inside of your skull is currently experiencing something akin to a flash flood in a candle factory. And judging by the goofy smile spreading on your face, it must feel pretty good. Well, they say ignorance is bliss, so I’m afraid you’ve just confined yourself to cloud nine.
When she finally rises from the water, her eyes are a sparkling, crystal clear blue, and there is absolutely nothing left behind them. Even the Paladin probably isn’t as thoughtless as this blonde bimbo.
“Heehee~” She giggles, wiping her chin. “That was, like, totally delish! … Oh, what were we doing, again?”
The blonde twirls her hair through her fingers as the rest of the party stares at her.
“Is… Is she okay…?”
The Rogue shrugs. “I don’t care. Come on, let’s get moving. We’ve wasted enough time in here.”
“B-but…!”
“I’m fine! No, wait, I mean I’m totally great!” The former Mage giggles and drags her Cleric friend along. “This is gunna be super awesome, yeah! … So like, who are you again?”
Tch. They somehow manage to get through the rest of the floor, despite the fact that their spell caster can no longer spell. Perhaps it’s on me. I’m really not trying. My heart just isn’t in it right now. I can’t help but feel rather bitter about one of them essentially dooming themselves like that. It takes all the fun out of it.
But by floor four, I’m back in the game. Okay. The Paladin’s a drone. The Bard’s currency. The Mage is a moron. Just the Rogue and the Cleric to go now. I think I know what I’ll send at them next.
The pollen is nice and thick down here, there’s a full ping tinge to the air. The two Adventurers are wandering through it like they don’t even see it, they’re so used to the stuff…
(The Paladin’s just marching along like a toy soldier – she doesn’t see anything anymore – and the Bimbo’s just skipping after the others, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t even remember that she’s in a dungeon.)
Normally, the lack of monsters might have set them on edge, but by now their senses are lulled, and their wits dulled. I’ve got to be gentle, or I’ll accidentally crush them too quickly. There’s only one ‘beast’ on this level, and they’re about to meet it.
They hear its rattle before they see it. I see their fear… well, no, okay, only the Cleric seems to be afraid. The Rogue’s just ignoring it, and the other two are too mindless to notice anything amiss. But at least I get to enjoy the pink haired one’s growing terror.
Not for long, though. Soon, they meet. From out of the pink mist clanks one of my personal favourite minions. A golden body in the shape of a love heart, floating in the air, with four chains floating around it, each one connected to its back. It lacks a face, instead presenting a smooth exterior with a door latch – a latch that swings the front side of the main body open, revealing the dark void inside. It’s a rare mutation of those old Iron Maiden beasts – I’m quite proud of the breed I’ve cultivated down here.
And given this party’s lack of firepower, I have to wonder about how they’ll deal with it…
“What… is that…?” The Cleric asks, hiding behind her staff in fear.
The Rogue just shrugs. “Dunno. Not seen one of those before.”
That wasn’t what the pink haired healer wanted to hear, I’m sure. “Oh. A-any idea what it does?”
“Only one way to find out,” the experienced Adventurer tells her, patting her on the back… Before grabbing the back of her cloak in one hand and throwing her straight at the monster.
“Waahhh! W-Wait, no-!”
CLANG!
Hm. Interesting tactic. I admit, I wanted to see more of a fight, but sacrificing your healer to the great golden void does technically win the battle. My poor Gold Locket only has enough room inside it for one.
So, what’s happening to our poor Cleric? Well, she was thrown head first into a magical vortex, with the door slamming shut behind her so she’s not getting out. When exposed to such a heavy conflux of magical energy, anything could happen. People have been unriven from existence, or transformed into hulking monstrosities, or even merged with dark entities from beyond the outer realms, becoming blights on reality and really messing up the décor.
Fortunately, my creature isn’t so wasteful. The cycle has been tamed and controlled. Now, the sacrifice gets to look forwards to a nice, orderly doom. It’s a process I’ve spent a lot of time perfecting, and I’m delighted to see it go so smoothly.
First, her physical body is reduced to aether and drained away, used to power the rest of what’s to come. It happens instantaneously the moment that the locket slams shut – doesn’t even have time to hurt. In the flash of a moment, the Cleric is reduced to a free-floating spirit. Not dead – can’t have her delicious soul escaping to the afterlife! – but no longer in possession of a body. Which leaves her vulnerable to all kinds of modifications.
Modifications that will make her much more useful than she was as some mewling healer!
First up, we need to deal with her personality, any rebellious nature, strength of will, anything that can mess up the result we’re looking to produce. You know, any ‘self’ she has, we need to quash. So the process begins by using the mana gained by draining the Cleric’s body to manipulate her soul directly.
It’s like working with clay or dough. You stick your thumbs in and kneed until you get what you need.
And under my Locket’s tender ministrations, her mind quickly slips out of human ‘form’ and becomes something more appropriate for her new station. The capability to produce rational or coherent thought deserts her, and she soon settles into baseline existence as a mostly unthinking blob of mana.
If I had a psionic on hand to listen to her soul’s thoughts, they would probably be something like: ‘What is happoooohhhh ah~ Mmnnn ooohhh tha’s really yeahhh oohhh heehee I be good keep doin’ yeah oh muh boo bleh woh duuuuhhhhhhh…’
Trust me, I’ve listened in on it before.
Now that she no longer qualifies as ‘sentient’, but still gets by on the baseline category of ‘alive’, we can use her for all sorts of things. Living enchantments are practically eternal, they last so long, and maintain their strength without any kind of deterioration. This is how you get most magical items, if you weren’t aware.
For this one, the Locket is set to make a mana battery. Something to give mages more power to cast stronger spells. Given what’s happened to her Mage friend, it feels like a properly useless fate for her to end up in.
Purpose decided, now the transmutation cycle moves into its final stage – binding her permanently into her new form. The rest of the mana her body was converted into is used for this, ironically converting her back into a physical form. Though, admittedly, a different one than what she had before.
Light shimmers as her soul is forged into glitter and gold. In the heart of the locket, metal fills the space previously taken by the magic vortex, and from it the relief of a familiar young woman’s smiling face emerges…
Oh. Well. That’s sort of a smile. Her tongue’s sticking out somewhat, and it looks like her eyes have rolled up in her head at some point… Ah. Well. I guess she enjoyed the process more than I thought. Not sure how that’ll effect the resale value.
Tink!
With the magic concluded, the Golden Locket shrinks down to a more manageable palm-size, becoming the magical item it was meant to be… And there! One nice little golden mana battery, ready for use. Shame no one left can use it, hm?
“Ohhh!” The blonde former Mage skips over, attracted by the shiny item. She quickly scoops it up into her hands and turns it over, popping it open. “Hey cutie~ Wanna come with me?”
Naturally, she fits the chain around her neck, dropping the actual pendant down into her cleavage – and doesn’t even bother attuning to it. Welp.
“Cute lady. Like, I wonder who she was~”
In my defence, this one did it to herself. I accept no responsibility for that bimbo.
But okay. That’s it. There’s only one left now. Time for the finale. The final fight where I get to take to the field personally, and I can get really hands on. Ahhhh, it’s been too long since I last got to do this.
Their footsteps are on the stairs now. I don’t have long. Preparations must be made.
First, I unveil my true form. The walls rumble as the flower in the centre of my chamber, the closed bulb of a thousand rainbow shade petals finally blossoms, revealing me in all of my glory. Healthy green skin. Roots flowing from my head like human hair, the darkest shade of pine…
I am aware that, to some, I look human-like, but I am an alraune. And I am a powerful one at that. A woman of the plants, who controls them as though they were my own limbs. My roots extend throughout this dungeon, allowing me to monitor everything in its confines, and reshape it to my whims. My pollen floods every corridor, every breath of air. From here in my flower, I am the goddess of my domain.
And of course, I seek to be more.
Around the room are countless flower pods, each big enough to contain a human-sized creature. You can tell, because most of them do. In fact, some of the pods at the back are bigger to contain a few exceptional specimens – I’ve got a couple of minotaurs over there. All of them trapped in a press of petals, all of them female, their chests the only thing visible of their bodies. Their lower halves are contained in the petals that support and supply them with their bodily needs. Their heads are smothered by gigantic pink flowers which ensure that their minds are forever clouded by the pollen. They made for a beautiful display piece.
Of course, their presence is a little more practical than that. It’s a little-known fact that the most mana-rich substance in existence is the milk of magic using species. And what better a source than these former Adventurers who have dared my lair, who now exist solely as mindless milktanks~
They drool and drip, their heads flooded with so much of my hypnotic pollen that they’ll never think again. Their tits stream, drizzling into the soil to nourish me at a constant pace. With every second, I grow stronger – they came to defeat me, but instead, they only enhance me.
I do love putting the collection on display – letting the Adventurers who make it this far see the ending that they have earned. And speaking of, I believe the latest round has just arrived! This will be delightful…
“Hey Boss!” The Rogue waves at me as she emerges from the stairs, Paladin and Mage behind her.
What?
“It’s me! I brought you two juice Adventurer snacks.” She jabs her thumb over her shoulder at the oblivious pair.
Do I… know you…?
“Yeah, it’s me! You know, Jenn the Rogue?” She flicks her hair back, striking a pose. “I fought down here with my first Adventuring party like five years ago, and you enslaved me to your whim? I’ve been ferrying Adventurers down here to you ever since. Come on, I deliver ‘em like every month?”
Oh, right. Yes, I suppose I remember doing that. Sorry, all you humans look the same to me.
She sighs. “I mean you do always say that…” Then she brushes it off with the resilience of a good brainwashed minion. “Well, anyway, here are the two I brought you!”
Stepping aside, she gestures to the Paladin – who’s drool is starting to drip through the bottom of her helmet – and the Mage – who is waving and bouncing on her feet.
Not the most impressive of hauls, minion.
“Yeah…” The Rogue deflates a little. “I figured a few more of them might get down he-”
“Hey!” And suddenly the Mage is right in my face, staring up at me with wide eyes and a breathless smile. “You’re, like, super cute.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Typical human flattery. It’s what they always try when they realise how doomed they are. As if I’ll spare them for complimenting me. It’s embarrassing, quite frankly.
“No, no, like, I super mean it! I love what you’ve done with your hair.”
… Really?
“Yeah! Super cute! And look, you’ve even got the flowers as that sweet lil’ braid, that’s so adorable!”
… You know, most people don’t notice that…
“No!”
I know! It was a lot of effort, but everyone who gets down here is always ‘Yar, die monster, you don’t belong in this-Ack, not the pollen, not the pollen, bleh!’…
“Ugh, they sound like total jerks.” The blonde snuggles up against me. “Wanna make out instead?”
She feels… warm…
“Uh, Boss?”
Huh? What? Oh. Right. Uh. Yes, you were saying?
“Aheh…” She looks uncomfortable. Probably because the Mage is now actively grinding against me. I’m guessing the pollen she’s breathed in and her lack of brains make for a potent aphrodisiac effect.
“That and I’m, like, super horny!”
… Yes, quite. Anyway, out with it.
“Oh. It’s just…” Rogue folds her arms. “It’s getting difficult to lure people out here, Mistress. It’s got a rep as a really tough dungeon, and the loot I’m bringing back isn’t luring as many people as it used to.”
Hm. Interesting. Why is- Ah!
“Oops! Sorry, was that spot sensitive? Lemme kiss it better~”
That’s not- Ooh. Oh, my, you’re good at that. V-very well… Ahem.
Why the sudden lack of interest?
“Well, some other dungeons opened up near by…”
Ugh, that stupid Queen Bee hussy is moving in on my turf again, is she?
“And they drop way more magical items…”
Well sure, when you’ve got a whole hive working on making these things, of course you can make more items! Mine are higher quality though, does that count for nothing?
“Hey, hey, like, don’t get so worked up! Stress’ll give you wrinkles. Here, lemme give you a nice lil’ shoulder massage…”
Thank you. Ahhh, that’s nice…
“Uh.”
… What.
“W-well, I mean, I was hoping you could maybe, I dunno, give me a real haul to take back to the guild? Otherwise I dunno if I can convince anyone to come out here anymore.”
Hm. Well. I suppose that’s… Oooohhhh, wow, that feels good. I didn’t think I had nerves there. Your fingers are magical.
“Well duh! I’m a Mage, silly!”
Sure you are.
“Uh, Mistress? Can you play with her later? She’s distracting you.”
Nonsense. This one is too stupid to distract me.
“Oh totally, I’m a mega-dummy. I drank from that smarty fountain, and, like, it made me so smart I came around to stupid again!
That was by far the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.
“See?”
Well that’s-Ooohh! Yes! Right there! Ah, whatever you say, dear~
“So cute~”
Heehee~
“Mistress, please.”
Hm? Oh, you’re still here.
“Yes! Come on, this is important. You need to pay attention. If we don’t do something, you’re not going to get any more Adventurers down here!”
Mm. I do want some more milk. Maybe it is time for a new approach.
“Thank you. Okay, so I-Mmphmn?!?”
A pink pollen flower drops from the roof and envelope’s the Rouge’s head, locking tight around her jaw and flooding her mouth and nose with thick pink mist. That will be all from her, thank you.
She struggles for a moment – more out of surprise than anything, I suspect. But then her body goes limp, arms dropping to her sides as her brain is blissed into oblivion, and she finally shuts up. Her leather top bursts open a few seconds later, her tits swelling as her brain is melted into them.
“Are you okay?” The blonde working my shoulders and stoking my roots asks. “You seem kinda tense.”
Just getting rid of a pest.
The flower lifts the last Adventurer into the air, tits already squirting milk over the floor – most of it her first batch, made up of all the mind she no longer needs in her head – and my vines quickly strip her down of all her equipment, tossing it all in the pile of loot I can hand out to later Adventurers. Then she’s moved over to an empty flower pod, and deposited in it. The petals close up around her, and that’s the last we’ll see of… Whatever her name was. The Rogue one. Whatever, unimportant.
Now where were we?
“I was about to ask if, like, you wanna kiss, or if there’s someplace even more fun you wanna put my lips?”
Mmm. When she puts it like that…
It occurs to me that maybe sending this dim little flower of mine out to advertise might work for me. If I laden her with magical items, give her some Bard gold to spend, everyone will come from far and wide to investigate. After all, if someone this dumb can get in and out without issue, what harm could there be?
That’ll come later, though. For now… I send the mimic off to guard the stairs with a flick of my finger. She might make for a good strong guardian, now that I think of it. And if not, I can always add her to the pods.
But for now, I think I need to give this bimbo her reward for defeating the dungeon!
This is the most fun I’ve had in ages~
