RD: Chapter Five - Fortifications

After a few hours of bellyaching, Dolli got everyone in the new dungeon working towards their goals. Greg supplied axes to the Golems to chop wood, then went back to the forge to start crafting weapons and armor. The Wendigos and Belgrus’ worked on building walls around the main roads in, though they focused on only the fortifying the first few blocks of the city instead of the whole thing.

Though there were only three other Wispelle in the dungeon, Dolli set them about practicing shapeshifting to help carry debris out of town. While the Spark-made monster was powerful in combat, their practical uses were limited until they shapeshifted, which held true for Dolli, too.

When everyone was smoothly performing their duties, Dolli had the urge to retreat to her hut. She wasn’t tired, her body didn’t ache, but she was exhausted. Instead, she found Rufus at the inn, hammering a new door into place. It was dark, and he worked by the light of a few candles. Dolli’s body brightened the area as she approached, turning Rufus’ head.

“Hey,” she said.

Rufus stopped to wipe a bead of sweat from his unnaturally pale brow. “Almost finished, Overlord.”

Dolli winced. “Please, don’t call me that. Don’t treat me like some… ruler. I was just saying hello.”

“Why shouldn’t I call you Overlord? You’re doing the job, so it’s what I should call you.”

“Am I? So far I’ve given out quests and ordered everyone around.” Dolli sighed.

Rufus went back to hammering. “That’s part of leadership. Giving direction is a thankless but necessary role. There’s a lot more to it than that, though. Give me a hand?” Rufus asked, gesturing with his cloven hoof to a nail that had fallen on the ground.

Dolli scooped it up and brought it to his hand.

“Thanks.” He smiled and returned to hammering.

Maybe Rufus was right. Dolli was the only one who could give out the dungeon upgrade quests. She was the only one who could access the Overlord systems and award roles—which twister her imaginary gut into knots.

There was only one role slot open, and the options to fill it were limited to Architect, Blacksmith, and Lieutenant. They were only at Dungeon level 1, but they were getting mighty close to level two from all their efforts, which Dolli hoped would open another spot.

Still, she only had one role slot now, and many dungeonfolk with which she needed to make amends. One choice was obvious enough, and Dolli didn’t know why she was dallying...

Fear, she admitted to herself.

Greg hated her—much like the rest of the dungeonfolk—but he was the obvious choice for the Blacksmith role. The benefits would decrease his production times by 15%, and increase his conversion efficiency, saving precious metal. They weren’t able to mine yet, but they would need to soon if they were going to equip everyone well.

“Ho’ there,” Greg boomed and pulled Dolli from the menu. He set his wheelbarrow of spare metals down. “How’s it coming?”

“Just fine, thanks. Almost finished.” Rufus waved his hammer.

Greg leaned side to side, as if her were inspecting Rufus’ work. “Using a few too many nails, are ya? I’ll make you more.”

“Thank you.” Rufus grinned and Dolli saw that familiar twinge of annoyance in his dimple.

Greg picked up and headed off. “Let me know if you need help.”

When he was out of earshot, Rufus gave Dolli a sarcastic look that said it all.

“Mind if I drop by and do all this? You’re usin’ up too many nails. Oh yeah, and call me Overlord-to-be, would’ya?” Dolli mocked Greg.

Rufus couldn’t contain his chuckle but straightened his expression a moment later. “Don’t make fun. He’s your citizen.”

Dolli sighed and they fell quiet. Greg, the man who’d tried to kill her over the last six years, was one of her citizens. She had to figure out how to lead that man, and all the people who supported him.

“What’s going on in that glowing bulb of a head?” Rufus asked.

“Oh, just thinking about tea,” Dolli lied. “I miss the taste, the feeling of warmth spreading through my stomach, and the sound of a whistling kettle. What do you miss?”

He chuckled. “Recognizing my reflection. But soon I will. We just have to get past this adjustment.”

Dolli nodded. Could they get used to this? “I have some rounds to make, quests to give. Holler if you need any more nails.”

“Oh, get off it. But really, I’m sure I will need more in an hour or two, oh—” he paused with a curious expression. “Why aren’t we tired?”

Dolli opened her Overlord menu. It’d only been dark for an hour, but he was right, they should’ve been tired. She panned through the tabs and stopped on the [Lifewell] page.

[Lifewell – Dungeon Resurrection Spring]

Your seat of power is infused with the energy of the great Lifewell. The Lifestream is a potent source of revitalizing energy which can return monsters from the dead, heal wounds, and cure ailments. The Lifestream can be divided into [4] Slots at Dungeon Level [1], allowing up to [4] monsters to be revived at one time. You can focus the power of the Lifestream into a single slot, speeding the recovery of a single monster. The Lifewell is always large enough to hold every monster in the dungeon, and expands as the dungeon grows. Deceased monsters will stay in the Lifewell until they are prioritized into a Slot infused with the Lifestream.

[Additional Uses]

~Rest and Recouperation: The monsters do not need to sleep, but after being active for [24] hours, they will need to enter the Lifewell for a minimum of [4] hours or be penalized with an ever increasing [Exhaustion] debuff. You may recall any number of your monsters to the Lifewell at any time**.

~ Repair and Status Effect Removal: Returning monsters to the Lifewell will increase their regenerative abilities by [25%]. Keeping a monster in the Lifestream for at least [30] minutes will remove all negative status effects, save for [Exhaustion].

**Restrictions: A monster cannot be returned to the Lifewell or Lifestream while in combat. When a monster is returned to the Lifewell, they cannot be spawned until their health is fully recovered.

-----

Dolli hummed with amusement. “Looks like I control all your bedtimes­­—but only after we retake my home. We will all need to return to the Lifewell to recuperate every twenty-four hours. We’ve been monsters for three hours, so tomorrow by dusk we’ll need to remove those wyverns.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Rufus said with a terrifying smile of jagged teeth.

“We have to,” Dolli added, then turned away for the Blacksmith.

Why her?

It was a question Dolli had been asking herself since the heroes first arrived and she was decreed the Regnant of Little Crossroads. Why had the Hero Magic chosen her? She wasn’t cut out for this. She didn’t want this.

When the inn was out of sight, Dolli slumped against the wall beside her. There was no [Exhausted] debuff yet, but she could already feel it. This was what being a Regnant had been like, except ten times harder, with a hundred times more people.

She just wanted to drink tea in her garden again.

“Skulkin’ around, just like you did when you was the queen witch.” Greg’s grating voice worked her nerves.

She looked down the alley to see the tall Golem with the same wheelbarrow full of metal frying pans, kettles, door handles, spigots, and more. Had he been listening to their conversation? Maybe collecting more materials from the buildings nearby?

“I was thinking, not skulking.” Dolli crossed her arms and lifted off the ground.

“Could’a fooled me.” Greg picked up his wheelbarrow and moved on toward the smithy.

You need to lead this man. Dolli reminded herself. She chased after him, her vapor tail wiggling through the air as she went. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Greg stopped in his tracks and scowled over his shoulder. “Now you’re ready to get involved after we’ve all turned into monsters. Not when our children were sick and dyin’? Not when the heroes were poisoning our water?”

The light emitted by Dolli’s magical body dimmed. “I did try.”

“Not hard enough!”

“I did everything in my power. I taught the heroes alchemy. I showed them the way to the plants they needed. I brewed their first potions for them and made their quests. I offered up my equipment—”

“You shoulda done it yourself!” Greg slammed the wheelbarrow down. “How could you trust our fate, my daughter’s fate, to body-hopping realm rats?”

Dolli’s light shrank further until the alley was lit only by moonlight. “I didn’t know this would happen.”

“You were lazy. You thought you could pawn off your responsibilities to those heroes and they’d take care of everything you shoulda been doing. Curin’ us of the plague’s not the same thing as collecting firewood, or killin’ off some boggarts! That’s what heroes are good for, not saving your bloody town!”

Dolli couldn’t have gotten any smaller. She wanted to argue back, to tell him how hard it had been for her with a thousand different things gone wrong. It hadn’t been just the plague. There were trade reroutes due to the illness and trying to communicate with the other kingdoms, the food shortage from fields going untended, the sudden decrease in treasury capital from the loss of trade, the inability to purchase healers. Dolli had to fix all of that at the same time and she was only one woman who’d never wanted to be Regnant in the first place!

But his daughter was dead by the heroes’ hands she’d conscripted to solve the problem, and those excuses would mean nothing in comparison. Some of the heroes had made proper potions that saved many of the townsfolk, but some had been careless. They mixed the ingredients wrong, either purposefully or by accident Dolli didn’t know… but the potions those few had delivered had killed the townsfolk who took them almost instantly.

The distant sounds of axes chopping and hammers driving nails made the silence between them obvious. Dolli couldn’t stand it for another moment.

“Do you want my help, or not?” Dolli asked, her light returning.

Greg scoffed. “How are you gonna help?”

“I have a role for you,” Dolli said, opening her Overlord menu. She selected the Blacksmith role and a tiny metal pin of a hammer and anvil appeared in the palm of her misty hand.

She held the pin out to him. “I could’ve just assigned it to you, but I wanted your agreement in taking on this responsibility.”

Greg didn’t look amused at her passive-aggressive tone, but he reached out for the pin. His stare went blank as he picked it up, and Dolli knew he was reading over the role information.

“It will bind you to the dungeon forever… but there’s no one else I’d trust with this,” she continued when the silence dragged on.

Greg barked a single, “Ha!” then closed his hand around the pin. “There ain’t no one else here who could fill the role. This is my home, I’d already planned on stayin’ til my dying breath. I accept, but know that I’m not doin’ it for you. This is for the town, these people. You’ve failed us, Dollitrice.”

A notification appeared.

[Greggory Ferrier has accepted the role: Blacksmith!]

No heat came to her face with the indignant anger, but a bitter flavor swirled through her being. “Fine, as long as it’s getting done. We’re going to need more swords and armor if we’re to take on the wyverns and revive our people, so you better get to it.”

Dolli opened her Overlord menu and assigned fifty more armor tasks to Greg.

He accepted them with a grunt. “Yes, witch.”

After making the rounds on the other dungeonfolk, Dolli returned to the inn, the only place she felt welcome—or at least not open disdain. With the information from the others in mind, she scrawled in the dirt with her tendril made of pure Spark. It’d taken a few hours, but she was starting to get the hang of her new body.

“Carry the two,” she mumbled as she mathed out the coming battle. As sure as the sun set in the west, Dolli knew in her gut they didn’t have enough firepower to take down those wyverns. She was on the verge of leveling up to two, and knew several of her dungeonfolk were already three going on four. Still, it’d be like throwing pebbles at a landslide.

“We need more monsters?” Rufus asked as he looked over the dirt drawings.

Dolli nodded. “Even with everyone wearing armor who can, wielding weapons where it helps, and leveled up to six—which is about how far I think we can chance it before we’re experiencing the debuff—it won’t be enough.”

“What are we going to do?”

Dolli looked up toward her mountain cabin and grimaced. “Recruit.”