Fantasy Dungeon Builder's Harem

Lord Arciliaus Shorvin sat on the chair in the antechamber outside the Privy Council waiting for his chance to speak with the King of Myreman. Lord Shorvin had traveled down from his estates, growing more and more concerned that his guards could not keep him safe against the growing predation of Lord Leo.

He pulled a lacy handkerchief from the pocket of his red doublet and matted at his balding pate. His hairline had retreated at a young age. Today was vital. He had already lost good farmland to this growing threat.

He shoved the handkerchief back into his pocket and squirmed on the seat. His rotund body was too fat for the narrow chair, the cushion much too thin for his liking. He glanced at his chamberlain who stood in a black doublet, white-gloved hands at his side.

The door opened and a serving girl in blue and yellow livery swept out. She curtsied to them, her ringlets framing her doll-like face. "His Majesty and his Council will see you now, my Lord."

Lord Shorvin swallowed the impatient retort. Now wasn't the time to be seen as an uncouth frontier lord. He rose with a grunt, his knee throbbing with the burning heat of gout. He ignored it as he marched into the Privy Council, his chamberlain heeling him.

An ornate table draped in sea-blue cloth covered the table, the ends trimmed in golden tassels. King Thanitis sat at the head of the table, his chair carved of black teak with lapis lazuli inlaid in parts. He was a young man, newly ascended to the throne, and had fire burning in his green eyes. He wore his black hair cut short in a martial fashion, his clothing rather plain. A sword in a scabbard rested on the table before him.

Behind the king, a figure cloaked from head to foot in blue stood with his head bowed. The Hooded Confidant. An enigmatic adviser to the king.

To his right sat Knight-General Arthemar, the commander of the Royal Army of Myreman. He had a hard face and iron-gray hair. A waxy scar marred the right side of his face, a token from killing the dungeon builder Karthin Firescream.

To the king's left sat Virin, Royal Mage of Myreman. The chief vizier to the king and a man so old, his skin looked as dry as old parchment and dotted with brown liver spots. But his eyes were a piercing blue, his magic circle draped about his neck, the brass standing out against the gray of his robes.

The last was a woman sitting at the far end of the table. Lysila, High Priestess of Water. She sat with her hands folded before her in robes of deep blue. Her black hair spilled down the back. She sat like the sea on a windless day.

Calm. Placid.

But something lurked in the depths of her blue eyes.

She served Lord Enki and Lady Ninli, the Patrons of Myreman and its capital, Myrecilla.

"Thank you for meeting with me, Your Majesty," Lord Shorvin said, bowing to the king.

"Sit, sit," the young man said, waving an impatient hand. "You're here to petition aid in dealing with Leo the False?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." Shorvin took a seat in the middle of the table, two down from the vizier. Swallowing, the lord stared at the young king. "His power grows. He has control over fertile farmland while the Village of Astovin has sworn to him. He carves out a piece of your kingdom for his own!"

"Dungeon Builders come and go," said the vizier. He leaned back in his chair, his dry skin stretching over the bones of his skull as he put on a disingenuous smile. "Surely your own levies are enough to defend your manor and protect what lands you can from his depredations."

"He is a threat to more than my lands," Lord Shorvin said, his hands shaking. "He has swelled in power. The daughter of Anguin Vobria, the great hero, has been deceived by Lord Leo. The foul creature pretends to want only peace as his influence stretches farther and farther. He is nearly on my doorstep."

"And why have you not readied your lands for dealing with a powerful dungeon builder?" asked Knight-General Arthemar. His expression grew as stony as a granite bluff as he stared at Lord Shorvin.

"I have done what I could," Lord Shorvin said, his insides squirming. "I have put out an extravagant bounty that will bankrupt me. I have asked the temples for help. They sent a saint."

"A saint?" King Thanitis asked. There was an eagerness in his voice. "The saints are legends. Myths."

"The saints are the greatest weapons of the gods," said High Priestess Lysila, "and only used in the direst of circumstances. This Leo is a grave threat if one was unleashed against him, and that he survived..."

"Saint," growled Knight-General Arthemar with a dismissive wave of his hand. "One man, no matter how much power invested in them by the gods, is not enough. Lord Shorvin, this Lord Leo is a threat, but you can contain him. He is in the hinterlands. Estates that might be valuable to you but hold little strategic value to Myreman."

"This does sound... dangerous," the king said, an eagerness in his voice.

"And you would leave the capital open, my king?" asked Virin. The vizier shook his head. "It is prudence that has allowed Myreman to survive for as long as it has. Your family has understood that the heart of our nation can never be risked. The hinterlands fall to builders and are reclaimed as the power of the parasites ebb and flow. This is nothing new."

"Nothing new!" demanded Lord Shorvin. "He has a town sworn to him. A hero's daughter with a Blessed Blade. There are even rumors that he has recruited another dungeon builder to be his lieutenant."

"Sworn to him?" The knight-general snorted. "This Astovin merely submits to their conqueror. What is new about that?"

"They swore willingly!" Lord Shorvin slammed his fist down, his face flushed. "And he's recruiting adventurers. He's building an army."

"Of adventurers?" Knight-General Arthemar laughed.

"But recruiting other dungeon builders, that's a problem," said King Thanitis. He glanced to the royal mage. "Virin, we have to stop that."

"That is the best news Lord Shorvin has brought," the aged vizier said, his fingers clasped tightly together.

"What?" demanded Lord Shorvin. "How is that news good let alone the best."

"Dungeon builders are ambitious and treacherous," explained Virin. The royal mage smiled. "When he betrays Lord Leo the False, it will weaken them both. One will die. Perhaps even the greater of the two threats when Leo is stabbed in the back."

"And what if Leo is another Fuegin!" Lord Shorvin demanded, bursting to his feet. Sweat broke out across his forehead, his heart racing. He slammed his fist on the table. "We have a chance to stop him before he conquers all of Myreman and spreads farther."

"Yes," the king said. He slapped a hand down on the knight-general's shoulder. "We can ride out and find glory."

"Your Majesty," groaned Arthemar. He stared at his king. "We have to think about the heart of Myreman. Of defending Myrecilla and the farms that keep us fed. We would be fools to march out into the hinterlands over one dungeon builder. It is Lord Shorvin's land. He can defend it."

"I can't," protested the lord. He stared at his king with imploring eyes. "Please, Your Majesty, please give me the royal army."

"And on what have you squandered the taxes you have collected from Astovin village and the others in your demesne?" asked the royal mage. Virin's sharp eyes ripped through Lord Shorvin's hide, almost flaying him. "On your... amusements. Fine foods. You come to us as fattened as the bull for the slaughter, and whine that you don't have the strength to defend your paddock. You have not prepared, have you. Not recruited soldiers. You were content to let the dungeon builders fight in your lands and die so long as it didn't bother you. How often did you defend your territory."

"It's also the king's territory," Lord Shorvin gasped. "Your Majesty, they're your citizens, too."

The king swallowed.

"They are your people, my king," High Priestess Lysila said. She sat there calmly. Her eyes studied Lord Shorvin. "He is not exaggerating the threat of Lord Leo the False. Military action must be considered."

The king threw a look over his shoulder to the robed figure behind him, but they did not answer. Just stood there. The king looked to Knight-General Arthemar, "Could we mobilize and invade?"

"Yes," the general said slowly.

"It would be quite the expense to the royal coffers," said Virin.

"And it would leave the capital exposed," said the knight-general, his stony expression crumbling as his flesh paled. "Tuerien Ironbane is to the south."

"And you have assured me he is no threat," said King Thanitis. "That he's too far away."

"Of course he is," said Virin. "He cannot extend his reach that far, but a prudent king should never gamble if he doesn't have to."

"Yes, yes, and we do not have to," said Knight-General Arthemar. "We can empower Lord Shorvin to defend his own lands. Perhaps a loan for him to hire adventurers as mercenaries to bolster his own men-at-arms."

"That's not enough," protested Lord Shorvin, his stomach churning. "Please, my king, stop being a coward and--"

"I am no coward!" King Thanitis roared and bolted to his feet.

Lord Shorvin wilted and bowed low, his entire body trembling. "I didn't mean to imply that, Your Majesty. My words were spoken too hastily. I meant..."

"You said what you meant," the king said. "Myreman is more than Astovin village and some farms. I have many concerns that I must address."

"Lord Shorvin may be churlish and uncouth, my king," said Lysila, her serene gaze turning to the king, "but this is not a time for caution. The Lord and Lady of Water have long blessed Myreman. Their gift is as strong as ever. This is the time, Your Majesty, to stand up to the dungeon builders."

"I strongly disagree," said the knight-general. "We merely must help Lord Shorvin to defend himself."

"That is what a prudent king would do," added the vizier. "Your father would do that. You have inherited his wisdom. You are a great king, Your Majesty, and it is in moments like this that you must prove it."

Indecision twisted the young king's expression. A sourness rippled through Lord Shorvin. His stomach curdled. They would not help him. He would be wiped away by Lord Leo the False, and these cowards would let it happen.

A messenger burst into the privy room, a young man in blue livery. He rushed forward to Knight-General Arthemar and handed him a letter, bowing. The man cracked the seal on it and read the contents, his brow furrowing.

"What is it?" the king demanded.

"Perhaps when Lord Shorvin has been dismissed, we can--" the knight-general was saying when King Thanitis ripped it from Arthemar's hand.

The king read it.

"Your Majesty?" Lord Shorvin asked, curious and sensing an opportunity.

"A group of soldiers on a patrol north of the city encountered wildhounds and a lightning wolf sneaking through the farms only a day from here," said King Thanitis.

"Lord Leo is scouting, Your Majesty!" Lord Shorvin cried, his heart racing. This was his chance. "He is looking for ways to attack Myrecilla!"​