Lewd Dungeon, Chapter 211 (Patreon)

This one goes out to one of the supremely most awesome of patrons, Zannah. Hope it was worth the wait.

Chapter 211 – Newcomer

An angel walked the muddy streets of Swamptown.

That was not hyperbole, or some kind of joke. Oh, sure, anyone with eyes would have been struck by the beauty walking amidst the refined squalor of the modern-day version of a frontier town. There was no doubt that she was very pretty, even more so than most who were touched by the System in the Apocalypse.

But this woman was a true angel, and even the System said so. Or, rather, she was a Fallen Angel, as her raven-feathered wings would attest. Not that anyone cared about such things out here. She could have been a bona fide angel of Death, and all the adventurers of Swamptown would have cared about was that she was a very attractive woman, who certainly looked over 18, and that she was making a direct line from the Portal House, as people were calling it, to the Dungeon.

She was dressed all in black, to match her wings. A long black gown hugged her body from her modest chest down to her waist, but beneath the wide leather belt resting there, her gown sported long slits running up either side, from the hem all the way up above her hip. It gave her incredible mobility, and gave anyone observing her a nice view of her well-toned, athletic legs. Or, rather, what could be seen of her legs above the thigh-high combat boots she wore.

Above that, a black hooded cloak covered her head, but there was a pair of slits in the back of the cloak, allowing her wings to slip through. A gust of wind caught the hood of her cloak, throwing it back to reveal a short pixie cut in her black hair, and dangerously blue eyes. Fingerless leather gloves met reinforced bracers on her arms. A katana hung in its sheath from her left hip, a sawed-off shotgun holstered upon her right, the hilt of a dagger could be seen at the small of her back, and a pistol rested in a shoulder holster to complete the look.

What look she was going for, exactly, was unclear. Anyone watching her (which was quite a few people, since it was almost noon, and Swamptown wasn’t that sleepy) had their own ideas, but they generally agreed on ‘badass’. What they couldn’t agree on was the one real mark of color in her outfit, the symbol of the Demon of the Dungeon, marked in red across her chest.

Oh, the Demon having followers was no secret, and there were even so many that the locals couldn’t recognize all of them, but most of the Demon’s followers traveled in groups. At the very least, they always had a Master and a slave pair. They never walked alone. And they usually carried a token of the Demon’s symbol, rather than wearing it so openly.

One young man, with more balls (or booze) than sense, stepped in front of her, leering at the angel in black. “Oh, ain’t you a pretty li’l thing. Now, what you go and wearin’ that scary demon’s symbol for? Thinking it will make him take it easy on ya? Or maybe you’re looking to be his next fuck toy, huh?”

The woman ignored him. In fact, the only sign that she even recognized that he was physically there was when she stepped lightly around him, continuing on her way. This caused the young man to snarl, and he reached out to grab the woman’s arm. “You listen when I’m talkin’ to ya, bitch!”

The crack of thunder followed a flash of lightning, and the young punk found himself slammed up against the wall of the nearest prefab building, run by the local alchemist. It took a second before the pain cut through the shock, and he screamed out, doubling over before falling to the ground. Curling up into the fetal position, he howled in agony as the realization that he had been hit with a lightning bolt to the groin broke through misfiring nerves flooded with electricity to reach his brain.

A woman dressed in rugged clothes, with a wooden staff in her hand stepped out of the Adventurers’ Guild. Clearing her throat, she said, “Miss, I’m going to need to ask you a couple questions, if you don’t mind.” She kept her staff in her hand, but didn’t make any offensive moves, yet.

That got the angel’s attention. “What are you, the cops?”

“No, I’m the leader of the Swamptown branch of the Adventurers’ Guild, which means I am the closest thing to ‘authority’ this town has. Now, I don’t much care about you zapping Jimmy Joe like that, so long as he lives. He’s been warned not to get handsy with people, but the damn fool’s already drunk, and beer makes him stupid. But I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t ask you a few questions, and make sure you knew the rules around here.”

The angel’s eyes narrowed, but she stopped walking, at least. Her hand moved slightly towards the hilt of her sword, but didn’t touch it, yet. “Rules? This whole place exists at the sufferance of the Lord Kuronoth, bringer of pleasure and lord of domination. What rules can there be, here?”

The guild leader’s face twitched as she tried to keep from saying what first came to mind. The angel’s attitude wasn’t exactly uncommon, especially since the portals went in. People who had been a little fish in a big pond came out here, where there was no official government, and thought they could start throwing their weight around, because they had levels. They just weren’t as blatant about it as the angel was, and they didn’t usually invoke the Demon by name.

The leader sighed. “Should have expected that was what you’d say, given the symbol you’re wearing, all openly. But what we have here is a bit of a balancing act. We police each other, and that means we don’t have feds, or anyone else coming out to try and make a scene. Ain’t in the best interests of anyone, not even the Dungeon or its Demon, for Swamptown to rise to the top of any agency’s ‘to do’ list, you hear?”

The angel simply nodded, once, accepting that fact. Encouraged, if only slightly, the leader continued. “So, as I said, we got rules. And, given your tendency to blast first, ask questions never, I think it’d be best for all of us if you come into the guild, we have a nice chat, all friendly-like, and I explain the rules, so we don’t have state representatives wanting to make political hay by changing shit. Yeah?”

The angel sighed, once, and said, “Fine, if it will prevent causing my Lord trouble, I can spare a few more moments before I continue on my pilgrimage.”

Taking what she could get, the local guild leader stepped back into the Adventurers’ Guild. She led the way into a small office on the third floor of the simple building (that third floor made it one of the five largest buildings in town, and the other four were inns). Moving around behind her desk, the leader sat down in her chair, and motioned to the chair she had for guests. “Have a seat.”

Once the angel was sitting, the guild leader sighed. “Right. Names first, since we’re being friendly, and all. I’m Summer Dixon, Ice Sorceress and Tailor, and, as I said, I’m the leader of the Adventurers’ Guild here in Swamptown. I am the closest thing to ‘law’ this town has, since most of the town is part of the Guild, which means I’m pretty much the Mayor of Swamptown by default. Now, who might you be?”

The angel breathed deeply. “Zannah. Zannah Bane. Spell-sword and Enchantress.”

Dixon waited a moment, and then sighed again, seeing that the angel wasn’t going to open up. “Right. So, Ms. Bane, what brings you out to Swamptown? You mentioned a pilgrimage?”

The angel nodded once. “Yes. I found the world of Lord Kuronoth, and joined His church and His faith. Now, I have come to pay homage to Him. It took me a while to make my way to Miami, and get the portal here, but now I’m here.”

Dixon nodded. “All right. Now, about the rules. They’re pretty simple, at least when it comes to living in town. Don’t go killing people, and don’t go breaking people’s shit. You abide by those two rules, and there won’t be any problems. You start breaking those rules, and then the residents of town will work to make sure you are no longer a problem.

“You think you’re likely to stay long enough that you want to put up a building of your own, then you either use magic to supply sanitation, or you keep your building outside of the marked limits of town. No one wants to live next to a shithole, literally.

“As for power and water? Well, for water you’re going to rely on either magic, or running filters to purify the swamp water. Power’s more complicated. We got the electric company to run lines out here, but that means if you want to be hooked up, you’re paying the electric bill, which means you’re going to have an official address with the state, which means taxes and all the stuff that comes with them. You don’t want that, there’s plenty of people who make and sell candles to give you some light at night.

“And the last of the town rules is more of a warning. The majority of the town has signed the contracts the Demon puts out in the dungeon, meaning that, among other things, if anyone starts saying they’re going to threaten the dungeon, or the Demon, we have to stop it. I know that isn’t likely to come into play with you, given who you serve, but I figured I’d mention it all the same.”

She took a breath, and then continued. “Now some very strongly ‘recommended’ guidelines about the Dungeon, and dealing with the Demon. This part, you’ll probably want to listen up for. Even if you’re looking to polish his sword, that doesn’t mean the Demon will see you the same way.

“First things first. Read every contract the Demon offers you before you agree to it, even verbally. The bastard loves telling people that he never lies, but that doesn’t mean he’s telling the truth. He twists things to his advantage whenever he can, and that is doubly true with the contracts, because he’s made them so that the System itself enforces the contracts.

“Second, you’re going to want to sign the Dungeon contract, if you’re ever setting foot in the dungeon. Doesn’t matter what you are or who you serve, the contract allows you to have some protections while you’re inside the dungeon. You don’t sign that, and you’re basically telling the Demon and the Dungeon that you’re there to kill them, and they do not take kindly to that shit, trust me.”

Zannah chuckled. “Anyone who just gets warm fuzzies at the ide of someone wanting to kill them is more fucked in the head than even I am! So, is that everything, or is there anything else you wanna tell me before I go and meet my Lord in person.”

Dixon just shook her head. Kids these days. So damn sure of themselves. “Just one more thing. I’m sure you’ve seen the broadcasts of the Demon and what he’s done to that goddess of Freedom, Pofmis, and her followers. They sent an army after him, and he killed them, or worse.”

The angel motioned for her to continue, bored. Dixon did her best to ignore the brat. “That made the Dungeon go up a Tier, so any information we have on the dungeon currently is subject to change. We’ve confirmed that floors one through three are mostly unchanged, though they all appear larger than they were before, and there’s more traps. But, mostly, those floors are the same.

“Everything after the third floor, however, we haven’t had a chance to confirm for certain. The groups that typically do the deep dives are up on the moon, right now, training at the lunar dungeon. So, any of the guides we have will possibly be out of date.

“Still, we’ve seen enough to advise everyone that you should always go into the dungeon in groups of four to five, with a mix of genders. Not that you’ll have much trouble finding a party, being a pretty woman. They’re all going to want to fuck you.

Her eyes narrowed. “But don’t go in there expecting to just tease the boys. The Dungeon is set up so it won’t really allow that. You step in that dungeon, you’re signing up to be raped, possibly raped to death. And yeah, that’s happened to a couple people. On the other hand, you might get so horny you’ll be throwing yourself at the first dick you see, even if you’re such a diehard lesbian that the very idea of touching a cock, much less sitting on one, makes you hurl. You’ll still end up needing cleansing spells to make sure you don’t go popping out a kid down the line.”

Zannah smiled. “Well, we’ll see what happens, won’t we?”