Logan touched the Under Stump’s demon skull and cycled the merest trickle of energy from his core, sending it coursing through his finger and into the map.
A second later, he was in a forest, under looming trees, standing on a carpet of pine needles. The pines smelled good, and the place was pretty. However, Logan was so dizzy he had to put his hands on his legs so he wouldn’t fall over.
Marko lay flat on his back, looking a little green around the gills. “Probably should’ve ordered my greasy omelet with a little less grease.”
There were two other cohorts present, but not the First Cohort. Good. The less Logan had to interact with Chadrigoth and his goons, the better. There were eight other monster students of various shapes and sizes, ranging from an Inferno Salamander to a Lady Ice Dragon to an Undead Kobold Mage.
The professor, Arketa the Hellgazer, walked over to stare down at Marko.
She might’ve stepped off the set of Legally Blonde. Dark sunglasses covered her pale green face. The pink scarf wrapping her head matched both the pink business suit and her pink heels. Her fingernails, tapered to deadly points, sported the same color. She was the essence of style and grace, and yet something was off about her.
The professor’s voice had a sorority girl’s lilt to it. “You must be Marko Laskarelis. There may or may not be a warrant for your arrest in Vralkag.”
“I’m either totally innocent or completely guilty,” Marko said with a smile.
He shamelessly held up a hand so she could help him up.
Arketa the Hellgazer stepped back. “Oh, no, dear, I don’t think so.”
A green Rot Troll, tall and impossibly thin, came over, nose as long as his lengthy index fingers. He helped Marko up.
The satyr gave the troll a hug. “Thanks, Ed. You’re the best.”
The troll grunted. “Help. Friend. Good.”
“Well, now, that makes everyone.” While the professor talked, Logan caught a glimpse of her forked tongue.
“I’m Professor Arketa, and yes, I’m the Hellgazer. It’s why I wear the dark glasses. I’m an A-Class Gorgonic Enchantress. Simply put, a gorgon.”
“Not a gorgon,” Marko said loudly. “More like a gorgeous.”
Arketa laughed, the sound light and bubbly. “Oh, sweetie, I haven’t been single in centuries. But we won’t be talking about my private life. Now, I wanted to give you a tour of your first dungeon here at Shadowcroft. As you’ll find out, I’m a very hands-on teacher.” She took off her pink heels and held them slung over her shoulder with one hand.
“Don’t make the hands-on joke,” Logan warned the satyr under his breath.
Marko swallowed loudly. And, mercifully, didn’t make the hands-on joke.
Arketa led them to the stump of a huge tree, long dead. Under the rotting wood was a moss-covered set of stairs. “You guys are so great. I feel so lucky to be teaching you. Just so we’re on the same page, this is Underground Feng Shui: Maximizing Your Dungeon for Murder. Unfortunately, for budgetary reasons, we had to combine this class with Minion Maintenance 101.” She paused and glanced back at them over one slender shoulder. “Believe me, I am not happy about it.”
Inga snorted out an awkward laugh. “I understand. While having a fashionable dungeon is important, minions are basically the heart and soul of the operation.”
Arketa clapped. “Oh, you’re that nice astral moth core. Yes, you did so well in the Threshing. So proud of you. I’m sorry you’re... well... stuck below your station. Hope that’s not rude to say.”
Inga blushed, and her antennae curled inward.
Without waiting for a proper reply, Arketa turned and ushered them down into the dungeon, talking in her sorority-girl voice. “And we’re walking, and we’re walking.” She paused at a narrow corridor near the entrance. “Now, class, a good dungeon is all about flow. You see? We have a choke point here, so those devious dungeoneers can’t easily swing their larger weapons, like axes and polearms.”
On the other side, she pointed out the punji pit—a collection of stakes concealed in the dirt and leaf clutter. “Notice, we altered the floor so the punji sticks are just the right height to pierce the feet and tear up the calves of our would-be heroes. Of course, you would want your punjis dripping with toxins to really mess with the raiders. I’d suggest something either on the Corrosivus or Toxicus side of things. Professor Rockheart will cover this more in your traps class. That Rockheart.” She sighed and shook her head.
Logan didn’t know how to take that.
They went through more rooms. Traps were hidden in the twisting roots of the trees above. Other rooms had tentacled monstrosities in underwater lakes. Another chamber had a literal carpet of poisonous insects. Arketa moved the spiders and scorpions aside easily with her magic.
“I must say, I prefer snakes to spiders.” She laughed like she was flirting with a frat boy. “You can understand why.”
Logan made sure Marko didn’t make any snake jokes. In the end, the satyr was too excited to really pay attention. Logan had never seen his buddy so focused. Arketa pointed out little flourishes a dungeon core could make—the unexpected cursed fountain, a painting that trapped you inside the canvas, and trick-tiled rooms that could bring monsters dropping down on your head.
They stopped in one such room with a very Raiders of the Lost Ark feel to it. Diamond-shaped stones covered the floor, while curling vines climbed the muddy walls.
Logan felt at home in the dark, wet environment. He kind of wanted to move there and set up shop. It was the perfect place for a mushroom dungeon core.
Arketa beamed at them all. “In this class, and for the rest of the year, we’ll be talking about room size, corridor length and width, as well as the proper use of staircases. Your natural inclination will be to trap every single staircase, but come on, let’s avoid the clichés when we can. The dungeoneers will be expecting the sliding stairs and false floors. Plus, pacing is important—I cannot stress that enough. You want to lure them into a false sense of security before pouncing with something really nasty.
“We’re also going to be doing a fair amount of resource management, since you’ll be severely limited in dungeon design based on your Core Strength. In some cases”—she glanced toward Logan—“severely limited is the understatement of the century.” Her face seemed to soften, empathy flashing across her perfect features. Logan had fully expected all the professors to be like Rockheart, but maybe he’d been wrong. “But there are even ways around that, assuming you are creative in your build. Any questions so far?”
Logan raised his hand. “Just so you know, all of my dungeon experience is from a video game, but how big can our dungeons be?”
Arketa smiled, her very pink lipstick unsmudged and perfect. “A very interesting question coming from a fungaloid.”
Logan wasn’t exactly sure why she was smiling.
She continued. “As I said, your dungeon design—including its relative size—is limited by your Core Strength. The more Apothos you can cultivate, the bigger your dungeon because Apothos is the metaphysical energy that materializes dungeon elements. This is why cultivation is so important. And this is why the type of dungeoneers that you attract is critical. The more powerful you get, the more powerful you want your dungeoneers. I want to stress something.”