Trash Mountain Dungeon

After choosing my level 5 monster and boss, I immediately started making my fifth level, forming a giant cavern using all 25 room slots with core level 5. Once that was done, rather than make another, larger fort, I focused on creating the perfect environment for my dryads, which unlike the ones in fantasy (or is it reality now?) are not creatures of nature, but of machine. The first thing I did was use some mana to rapidly spread and grow the various machine plants that would be both their home and defense, growing thick bronze brambles amid stalwart steel trees, dotting 'fruiting' plants here and there, but rather than berries and such, they contained orbs of mercury, boiling water, and smog.

Strangely it was rather beautiful, but in a 'real-life painting' kind of way.

And that beauty only increased when I made my dryads.

I made 20 of them, leaving the remaining 5 nodes to make 15 kobolds. The kobolds came out as usual, if slightly larger and with spikier tails, but the dryads were something else. Bronze skin, good proportions, and a mischievous face, each was very beautiful, like it was from a painting, the only thing was that I couldn't quite see where the whole 'super-naturally pretty' part came in. Sure, I'd say they were attractive, if oddly familiar, but I doubt people would lose their senses if they knew they were fighting them. Regardless, I also put down their structure, the [Workshop Grotto], a place that would boost their control over machine plants as well as let them create more machine animals to wander the areas just outside of the grotto.

As for the kobolds, I placed them in their structure, a hollowed-out hill covered in oil-leaking trees. While the dryads were to be the main defenders of floor 5, the kobolds would play support, going between the dryads’ immediate protection and their muscle. An interesting demonstration of this was once both groups finally settled in, they began to work both against and with each other. What was happening was that as the dryad’s animals began to proliferate across the forest, the kobolds began to hunt them.

Of course, they weren’t eating their catches, but what they were doing was stripping them for parts, literally. Using a few boars they caught, they began to fashion simple armor for themselves using the metal hides and tools using the ‘bones’. The dryads met this by producing more animals, bronze pigs, iron birds, and so many more, how they were making them, was rather interesting. Unlike when I made something, the dryads weren’t just magically spawning them in, instead, they were assembling them from the plants themselves. Using a rusty red color magic to bend, hammer, and weld the various machine creatures into shape, doing so with great skill so that each creature that came out was the same as the one before it. Thankfully the girls didn’t seem all too bothered by the kobolds hunting their creations, more so annoyed that they need to replace them. And after a few well-placed traps, the floor was done, and now it was time to work on my boss.

Unlike proper floors, the boss occupies their own ‘mini-floor’, an area similar to the merchant in that it occupies a space between rooms and floors. Upon assigning the dryad to the position, I noticed that the room made for her was almost as big as the forest just before her, the main difference was that it was far less tame and much darker. Where the dryad’s forest was rather beautiful and full of life (as much as machines could express anyway), the [machine mother] room felt darker, more dangerous, like the free wilds of before were replaced by something hateful. The trees belched hot smog, creating a toxic environment, ground plants were covered in rusty thorns and acidic buildup, and even the few machine beasts my boss monster created lacked the more natural untamed appearance of those in the grotto. Instead, these beasts were large, leaking no doubt foul-smelling fluids from the odd dent or scratch on their hides. This land was a machine, one that detested any not of the dungeon, but what of the [machine mother] herself?

Before the door to my core was a great tree, or was it a smokestack? It reached far above the rest of the forest, growing across the smog-hidden ceiling like snakes slithering across the stone. The tree parted at the base, the roar of a great fire and the mechanical churning of some engine was audible from it, the glow illuminating a lone feminine figure. Standing before the entrance to the tree was a tall woman, easily seven or eight feet tall, her skin and features were of a confidant and powerful individual, but at the edges, a person would be able to tell. Her face was hauntingly beautiful, but the edges, the parts you wouldn't see automatically, gave way to the facade, this captivating appearance of hers was a trap, something to lower the guard of those that met her.

"I suppose you like this form of mine, father?"

Ok, let's stop that right fuck now missy, also, you can hear me?

"Hm, I know not the source of your confusion Father, but I shall nevertheless work to clear it."

Hmm, I guess not, she must still be only capable of feeling the broad feelings I have for them rather than my exact words, inconvenient but still workable.

Don't call me father, alright, makes me feel weird, and not in a good way.

"If you desire it sir, but tell me, what is my first task?"

I sent the general idea of her keeping this floor on lockdown until I said so, the only ones who were allowed in were those directly from the dungeon along with Edward and Arthur, provided they weren't here with hostile intentions.

"I understand, sir."

From there she retreated into her great tree, a writhing mass of barbed wire formed a thick wall only a fool could and would traverse. After a few moments, the forest's slow machine churning began to pick up and started to blaze with heat as more smog was sent into the sky, red and orange streams of light seemed to flow through the ground into the plants as their branches swayed in some unseen wind. Looking around, the terrain looked kind of dry in all honestly, maybe a bit of water would help?

Quickly a moat began to form around the tree on all sides, and the thick black ferrofluid trap began to take the place of the ground. It was calm and stagnant, but just under the surface was a world of horrific fish things, they weren't machines, but unlike any creature I'd ever seen. Wanting to test it, I had one of the machine animals move to the water's edge, the fluid metal crawling across the metallic hide of the creature, forming spiky formations. As it walked closer, one of the creatures leaped out of the fluid and began to drag the squealing creature down, deep into the unseen depths. After a few moments, there was hardly a sign of a struggle, a few pathetic bubbles coming to the surface before nothing.

Holy fucking shit this is cool, but also, really dangerous to be around, and from the connection I could feel with them, the creatures were under my control too.

Both the [Polluted Forest Coppboar] and the [Ferrofluid lamprey] are emanations of the boss entity [Machine Mother] neither are proper monsters.

Wait, polluted, I'll have you know that I prefer to keep my home nice and clean.

Note, that such a claim is false for two reasons. Reason A, the outside environment the dungeon would otherwise be occupying is heavily polluted, influencing the present and future floors built in this pollution. Reason B, the dungeon is regularly filled with both discarded parts from production structures and monsters.

Don't have to say it like that you know, not my fault some idiots don't care about their environment. Oh well, comfort was never the point of the boss or the floor so people will just have to deal with it. But with her out of the way, I only had to do some last-minute reviews and preparations.

The first thing I did was send out a message to Arthur and Edward telling them of my plan, with some details missing, and that I would be unavailable for 6 months. Next, I finalized all of my traps to make sure I at least had some in every room, I might not be building them up too much, but they were useful in the past. After that though, I dedicated the best use of my remaining time was to panic and worry, obsessing over any small thing I could find. I could feel a weight in my chest, and ghost or not, I knew what it was, anxiety. What if something happened, what is someone dangerous came at me, what if I failed to guide my dungeon, my creations?!

Note, that an anxiety-fueled spiral is ill-advised, would the core like to engage sleep?

Yes, I think it would be better if I got it out of the way, if I don't, I might start obsessing over the surprisingly complex rat politics to keep myself distracted. Quickly I pressed the 'yes', and the anxiety I felt building in my chest faded, as everything went dark, and my eyes closed.