Valknar
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NM- Chapter 35
🕑 Added 2025-03-22 08:44:48 +0000 UTCJune and July passed with very little local or international happening that caught my attention. I spent most of this time working on my flower beds, weeding them and ensuring they bloomed without hindrance.
This all changed in August. The world got busy.
Even with the telegram office, he still took time for word of world events to travel from where they were happening to Crossway. It wasn't until the middle of the month that I learned of Germany's first successful motorised airship flight. I read that this had caused quite a stir in many circles, proving that transportation through airship of possibly goods and passengers was a real possibility. Many speculated on the possible disadvantages and advantages of such a mode of transportation.
From my time, I knew of the possible explosive results of using airships filled with hydrogen.
Tensions continued to build between France and Germany, but at the moment, it seemed like there would be no spark to trigger a war. That could all change quite quickly as I knew that it would generally come from a completely unexpected quarter, and when it kicked off, it would be a disaster for all involved.
Locally, several farmers sold their smaller land holdings to several larger ones. The Rochester family was one of the largest recipients of these new land acquisitions. From what information I could glean from the paper, the land holdings had increased by a third, making them the fourth largest landholder in the area. The family had diversified, splitting their property between ranching and farming.
August rolled into September, and I knew that autumn had started.
The road at the forest edge continued to see traffic, but I saw more herds of animals being driven up and down it. The farmers were getting ready for the harvest and wintering of the animals, so they were fattening them up to survive or sending them to slaughter.
At the start of September, a news article from London caught my attention, jogging my memory from my time as a human. At the end of August, a prostitute in London had been found murdered and mutilated. I realised it was about this time that a certain famous serial killer got his start in London, and his reign of terror was going to last for a little while.
Just over a week later, a second body was found of a murdered prostitute who was equally as mutilated. This was causing quite a stir in London, and the rest of the world's press was picking up on it and reporting all the gory details they could.
I found out about it several days later, but on September 27th, another body was found of a prostitute mutilated and murdered. They discovered a letter attached to this body, and on the same day, a copy was delivered to London's central news agency. Both letters were compared and declared to be identical. They were signed by Jack the Ripper.
This world’s Jack the Ripper did not let up in any way as three days later, the bodies of three prostitutes were found murdered and mutilated like the others. The news reports out of London indicated that the city was in the grip of fear and paranoia in the Whitechapel area.
I was engrossed in rereading the story in the paper that had been delivered the day before underground in the crypts below the church. I had many questions and thoughts as I realised that this ripper's murder pattern was different from the one in my world.
[Six Challengers have entered your Dungeon.]
“Shit!”
I had not been paying attention as usual because the story had piqued my interest. I quickly dismissed my avatar and shifted my perspective to the gates. Walking up the northern pathway, there was a group of six youths. If I said the oldest was 18, I would call you a liar, while the youngest looked around 14.
“What the hell are they doing here?”
It was rather late in the day, and I looked back to the gates. Outside, we're a collection of waggons filled with people. It's clear that they've been travelling for many months, and we're most likely pioneers from out east. Why they had not come in on the train, I did not know, but they were here at my gates setting to stay the night.
I counted eight wagons. That was roughly six people per waggon, meaning 46 men, women, and children were practically decamped at my gates. Six teenagers had wandered into the dungeon, and things would get bloody.
I looked at the sky and realised it was probably an hour at best before sunset. The six teenagers' route would take them directly into the spirit's hunting grounds. It was dark enough now that she was partly active in some areas, and for the first time in many years, I was concerned about how this would all go down.
My Hunters were stirring.
As they were recognised as Challengers, my ability to influence what was happening was non-existent. I was now regulated to being an observer and nothing more. I looked over the six teenagers, noting that not one of them held a firearm, but they all carried some form of blade.
“This is ending badly, no matter what.”
I can see the endings to this day. The teenagers were going to die. I was sure of this, but there was a chance that one or two could get away. Then, the men would get involved and be seen as intruders. The battle would happen, and then the women and children would flee, or they would die. This is when things would become difficult to predict: how many would escape.
Then, what would the pushback be?
I was getting very concerned as they went deeper. This could be the catalyst for the local community to become violent and take…
A man stepped into the courtyard and shouted. “BOYS RETURN. DINNER TIME! ”
The youths stopped and turned around, moving fast down the path to the courtyard and leaving the Dungeon.
“Oh! Thank you! Thank you!”
I was relieved that they were gone. As soon as they left, the restrictions on me were lifted. I contacted my confused Hunters and informed them of the situation.
“We've got a large group of pioneers sitting outside the dungeon. Around six families made up of men, women, and children. Stay hidden, and do not leave your lairs even if they enter the dungeon unless I tell you otherwise.”
My rules were strict regarding how I could control my Hunters under certain conditions. I shrink their hunting grounds to limit the danger of exposure. The Spirit was the hardest to control, as I could move its grounds but not its size.
Outside, the families had created several fires and sat around eating and talking. I watched them, hoping they would not enter. The sun had set, and they settled down to sleep. Over the night, I was a nervous wreck, terrified that some foolish children would dare themselves to go into the Dungeon.
The sun rose, and the families got up and ate again. They packed up and set off back to the road, and I eventually saw them crossing the ford at the river and heading up the ridge to Crossway.
“That was close.”
October came, and the world around the Dungeon was changing. Reds, yellows, and browns spread through the forest, and the local wildlife was moving or preparing for the approaching winter.
Two stories were prominent in the first ten days of the month. The first came from London and was part of the ongoing Jack the Ripper saga. The dismembered body of a woman was found at the construction site of the new police headquarters at New Scotland Yard. The words “Jack walks without fear” were written on the wall in blood. Many within the United Kingdom called this a direct challenge to the Metropolitan Police force. The second was the public opening of the Washington Monument. Reports indicated that 10,000 people were waiting to gain access to the new monument on the first day of its opening.
I only read the paper now at night. I spent the days mainly at the top of the bubble above the Dungeon. The near disaster that could have been that pioneer group was still fresh in my memory. I nervously watched each day's traffic, but nothing seemed amiss.
As the month dragged past, I endured the boredom and tedium of my constant vigil. In the distance, the snow line was again progressing down the mountains. It was slow, but my daily observations tracked it.
1888 was an election year, and the national results were known in November. President Windborne narrowly lost the popular vote to the Democratic contender Samuel Fredrickson. In London, the seventh victim was discovered in a mutilated state.
December arrived and brought the snow with it. Communications became sporadic and then non-existent. I settled in to wait out the winter and minimise damage to the church from the elements.
It was not until February 1889 that I had reliable communication with the outside world again. President Windborne used his remaining time in office to significant effect. In January, he signed a presidential order calling upon Congress to establish a Naval War College for the United States Navy. February had him signing a bill and itching North Dakota, South Dakota, Montana, and Idaho into the Union as full States.
The snows retreated over February; by the start of March, there was more green than white in the world around me. Only two days into the month, a rider approached the gates late in the day. I shifted my view down to the gates to better see my new visitor. Over the next ten minutes, the white man prepared himself to enter the Dungeon. It was clear from what he was doing he was a Challenger.
He put away his guns and made sure that several knives were attached to his belt. What appeared to be his primary weapon was a hatchet—slightly larger than a tomahawk but not as much as a complete two-handed axe. His clothes were thick and sturdy. He carried a satchel with a lantern. Looking into the sky, I think there were just short of two hours of light left. The sun was heading towards the mountains in the West, and darkness was starting to spread across the Dungeon.
I watched him walk into the courtyard, up to the plinth, and read the inscription. He turned, looking at both the northern and southern pathways. He pulled a coin from his pocket and flipped it into the air. He caught it and slapped it hard on the back of his other hand. He lifted the top one and nodded to himself at the result. He took the northern path.
[A Challenger has entered your Dungeon.]
“Here we go.”
Watching him walk up the pathway gave me a little time to think about this Challenger. Over the years, I have noticed that the challenges usually come prepared for the Dungeon. They always have supplies and a light source, along with their weapons. It was like how the hunters always used to go to the altar in the church and what to do to initiate the contract request. It always made me wonder what the dreams told them and how the knowledge was communicated.
I had resigned to not knowing this either, as I was ignorant of so much that involved me. I found it frustrating, but there was nothing I could do, so I just learned to live with it. I hoped I would find out one day, but that was not likely for now.
This challenger was walking at a brisk speed. He was in Roberson’s hunting grounds, but I didn't think my hunter would reach him before he crossed into the Spirits. I spotted my Hunter in the distance, but he was too slow, and this challenger crossed into another's hunting grounds.
There was enough darkness now for the Spirit to be active. This Challenger Had the unfortunate honour of turning a corner and walking directly into her. No, that wasn't correct. He walked through her. He collapsed to his knees, shivering and was covered in frost. It took a few seconds for the spirit to reconstitute itself as he had separated partly like a mist. When it did, the screaming started.
The Challenger never stood a chance.
[A Hunter has made a Kill]
“Damn it, I need someone to clean up this mess.”
The Spirit had done its usual excessive overkill and dismemberment of the corpse. Roberson was the Hunter on the schedule to come in to clear up this mess. The others went to the horse while he brought the wheelbarrow and started stacking the body parts into it. He was uninterested in taking any of the remains. I was forced to discipline the spirit a few times to remind her who was in charge. I had to use [Hide the Crime!] over several days to get rid of the blood.
March continued, and in international news, something quite surprising took place in the Pacific. German and French warships were involved in a standoff in Apia Harbour. Things escalated fast, and they almost opened fire on each other, but the crisis ended when a cyclone blew in, catching all the ships close to the shore and sinking them. The Royal Navy arrived a few days later and collected survivors, reinforcing their claim to the island.
April brought another Challenger to the Dungeon. He fared no better but die to McGregor this time. McGregor got behind him and was oblivious to its presence until it was too late. McGregor killed him but took his time making sure that his prey suffered.
[A Hunter has made a Kill]
There was a bit more loot this time because the body had been ripped to pieces, and what could be recovered from the horse was also added to the pot. It wasn't much, and it was split up amongst the hunters or kept by me. The horse was sent down to the Driver’s homestead. Amy was close to giving birth and had returned to the town to be close to the doctor.
The start of April was a busy time in Europe. First, France completed the Eiffel Tower and opened it to the public. Hailed as the tallest structure in the world, it was called an engineering masterpiece, but the local French critics regarded it as an eyesore. On the 1st of April, the French defence minister was forced to try to flee the country after attempting to overthrow the government. He made it to the border of Spain but was arrested there by the French authorities, who took him back to Paris to be tried for treason. The day after, in London, the Ripper claimed another victim. This was the first this year as he had gone quiet over the winter.
The US Government opened the Oklahoma territory in late April to a massive land rush. Within one day, two new cities, Oklahoma City and Guthrie, came into existence. Each had a population of over ten thousand by the end of that day. Amy gave birth to a daughter they named Mary on the same day.
The start of May brought the third visitor of the year. A single writer came to the gates. He dismounted and strolled in, ignoring the plinth and choosing to walk the southern pathway. He was recognised as an intruder, and my Hunters started to stalk him. I watched him and wondered why he was there. He was well-armed but had no tools or other means to identify the reason for his visit. He walked purposefully through the Dungeon, making several wrong turns and being forced to double back.
“Why are you here?”
I ran through the possibilities. Treasure hunter? If you want, he didn't have any gear with him, so it was doubtful. The same for grave robber. Was he a Lawman? Again, I was unsure but doubtful, as there was no reason for one to be here.
I was quite perplexed by this one.
Rodriguez took care of this one. The fight was fast and brutal as he jumped from the top of a building onto him as he passed. The intruder was knocked to the ground and quickly beaten to death with a tomahawk. Rodriguez was left covered in a bloody mess but victorious.
[A Hunter has made a Kill]
Searching for the intruder's belongings provided no more clue as to why he was there, and I was forced to chalk this one up to an unknown.
Rodriguez was happy, as he was now one kill away from his next level. I wondered what changes this would bring to him and what skills he would either improve or take. Rigger and Roberson Started to become more active as well—Rigger during the night and Roberson when the sun was up.
Both were hunting and gathering firewood, and I regularly found smoke coming from both their chimneys. Different types of game were collected, and as neither was affecting the Dungeon, I let them be.
The Ripper struck again in London on the 10th on the next day, the US Army paymaster in the Arizona territory was robbed with nearly $30,000 stolen. According to the reports that came through a few days later, when it was actually discovered, the escort was killed, but most of the bandits were also gunned down. The survivors were on the run with the money and the US cavalry in hot pursuit.
May ended with the Naval Defence Act in Britain, which I did not find out about until a few days later. It dictated that the Royal Navy must be equal to the strength of the following two navies combined. In my time, this act had been one of the driving forces that caused tensions between Britain and Germany, but I couldn't tell what would happen in this timeline as there were many treaties already placed between the two that I'm not sure existed in mine.
It was the 9th of June when I noticed a large group of men approaching the gates of the Dungeon. They were on horseback with several pack mules trailing along with them. They were loaded with different packs, and I could make out shovels and picks strapped to the donkeys.
“Miners or Grave robbers? Which one are you or maybe both.”
