Dungeons and Colonies Chapter 1
Now, enough with the delay.
Chapter 30
Penthouse.
Beyond the river, and through the forest, I made my way to the palace. By the time I had gotten there, it was night. Some would say that this was the wrong time to continue, but what I have observed is that these undead have no respect for the sun and do not fear the light. There is a front door, but I'm no sucker. Again, the weapon of my enemy would aid me. I reach into a leather bag, and pull out one of the glowing orbs that I obtained from the evil scholar. I had seen the pirate captain make use of these to appear behind me. I took one in my hand, and lofted it high into the air.
A small crash like breaking glass, a whisper of wind later, and I was on the rooftops. Up here I see several towers and domes. It looks like something ancient out of the old world, and nothing like the colony walls from before. Whoever built this place really had delusions of an Emperor or Pharaoh. I wonder if my colony should have feared this deity sized ego more than any of the undead living here now.
Looking down the shaft, I see that the towers were not completed yet. There are no floors or stairs leading to them. I notice that there are some glowing stones that are definitely other worldly. What manner of demon did this man conspire with? It was only a matter of time before this man called down the wrath of the divine. I take my axe and I smash the window open. Looking down, I take another orb and I toss it down.
I land on the 2nd floor of a massive, open grand hall. The second floor is also not quite finished, there are no rooms nor connecting pathways to the rest of the second floor. I am kind of thankful, because I look over the railing to the first floor and I see an infestation of undead. The zombies are former servants, dressed in tattered maid and manservant rags. There is no way I would be able to fight through this crowd.
This place was ruined and corrupted beyond redemption. I set explosives along the sides. The zombies looked up and howled at me, but I had broken any way for them to reach me. They followed and growled as I set more explosives. I then lit each bale of TNT, and cut the rope that was keep them suspended.
And I saw him. He was where his empirical seat was to be constructed. Clad in richly decorated vestments, I saw the man whose greed lead to many to ruin. The man that was, like me, a founder of a colony. He had made a bargain for himself, instead of doing what was right for his people, and the people suffered. He was rewarded with a rotting palace and a dynamite plaster against his walls.
The morning did not add opulence to this place of woe. The one side without blemish may trick some, but one look inside and you would know the price of such greed. It was made of stone and so I could not burn it down. I would come back again and erect signs of warning, though I think the palace is warning enough itself. I had one last task to do before I went home. I looked for and found their quarry. An ancient temple of an ancient people. It was quiet in the day light, though I could hear curses to my ears. I produced the block of diamond, and was allowed to pass unharmed.
In the heart of that sacred place, I restored the diamond to its rightful home. A breeze of relief flowed through the temple and I felt a great weight lift from my shoulders. On my way out, I blocked up what I could of the entrance so that maybe no one else would make the same mistake again.
I went home. It was sunrise when I made it home, and I made no grand entrance. I made my way to the church and I lay my trusty sword next to the book of enchantments. I came out and placed the key back to its guardian in his grave. I was recognized by Jim and he asked to speak with me, in the mansion. He told me that the town had elected him Mayor while I was gone. They did not like that I disappeared from time to time and would not be a good mayor for running a city. "Bullshit" he said, but I agreed with the townspeople. He said he would abdicate if I would speak and ask for the role. I told him that I agreed with the colonists, and I wished him good luck in his political career.
It took me weeks to recover. I told my story, and sailors came into port and told tales of ruined cities and cursed palaces. The towns people thanked me and vowed to make a monument, to which I really did beg them not to bother. Through it all, every day, someone brought fresh bread and ripe fruit to my room at the inn. She checked my bandages and stayed with me, talked to me, and made sure I did not over exert myself in my anxiousness to get out of my confined little world. Within a few months of my recovery, my penthouse was sold to some rich merchant.
I would go on many more adventures. Instead of coming home to an empty room and a quiet town, I would come home to a bustling city that I helped found, and a caring pair of arms that always waited for me to return. In time, I too would take my turn as mayor. Often I would get frustrated with the politics, hear my sword calling on Sunday morning services, and wish I could leave again. That time in my life has passed, and now I was just an old man remembering youth, but wisely realizing my life now was good. I would often sit under Jim's statue and ask him for advice. No more dungeons for me, I could hear him say. Leave that to your children. You have a colony... no, a city to run. Let the young make their own legends, yours is coming to an end. Be glad it ended happily ever after.
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