Dungeon 42

Infrastructure Planning

Chapter 34

Necessity was the mother of invention and if I was going to make progress I needed some constraints. I needed to decide on the rules of how I was going to build my dungeon. Until I did that I’d just be awash in the dauntingly large pool of possibilities.

It was such a basic thing, ask someone to draw you an apple and they would give you fifty in an hour. Ask them to draw whatever they liked and they’d have a blank sheet of paper at the end of that hour.

“Alright… Terminology first,” I muttered to myself.

[Layer]

[A single plane in the dungeon may include multiple connected or disconnected areas.]

On one hand that was more technical than it needed to be but also vague.

[Layer]

[A single plane with an entry and exit point.]

That was better, if not particularly more illuminating. That was hardly all that would go into making up a dungeon though. The more obvious addition would be boss areas but thinking about it, I recalled something from games I felt would be a good import.

[Boss Room]

[The area in which a boss confrontation occurs. It should be marked by a themed entrance.]

[Safe Zone]

[An area free of monsters and traps that allows adventurers to rest.]

Not my best work, but I could refine the definitions later. I started sketching out a crude miniature map as an example. Safe zones would probably seem counterintuitive to most, but I thought of it as just another means of exerting psychological control.

If adventurers expected them, they’d push to reach them instead of setting up shop in cleared areas. That would leave them at my mercy much longer than if they just stopped when they got tired.

“Mistress, what are you doing!?” Blackmoor called out cheerfully. I could work anywhere technically and had been just off from the lava pool chamber.

“Doing some planning work,” I explained.

“Also, call me 42. I think I’m going to keep it as my name,” I added.

“Strange, your name still says pending to us,” Stalin said, startling me as he came over. He’d been lounging and I thought he was in too much bliss to care about what I was doing.

“Wait, you can see-” I stopped. I could see names floating over their heads, but I’d taken for granted that I was the only one with the privilege.

“Right… Give me a moment,” I said then opened my personal info tab. The familiar fields showed up, but with a little concentration I found the name field shimmered for a moment then filled in on its own.

“Better?” I asked, and both hounds barked jubilantly. Many scratches and pets were given before the pair went back to play. On my own again, I realized I was forgetting something.

[Hi,

I made my name official today!

-42]

I entered the message twice, once for Agony and once for Steve. It wasn’t much but I didn’t really have anything to add. My decision to call myself that was pretty much a combination of whim and coincidence.

That I felt like I needed to work a couple “don’t panic” signs into my decor as discrete easter eggs nobody would understand was natural. A veritable biological imperative. Or at least that's what I’d tell anyone who asked.

A moment later I got a message alert which surprised me. It was from Agony. I hadn’t expected him to respond so quickly since he hadn’t yet sent a reply to my first message.

[Sweet!

Congrats on the name, and sorry for not replying sooner to the invite. I’m swamped with idiots. I’ll get in touch and set up a visit once newbie season’s over.

-Agony]

I was as happy for the promise of the visit as the congratulations. The photo he sent of himself giving a double thumbs-up was a bow on top. Steve responded almost as quickly.

[Congratulations 42,

You certainly found the question for your answer. I hope things are still going well with setting up your dungeon.

-Steve

P.S

I’ve attached something to commemorate the event.]

His present was a six-pack of cola in various flavors that changed whenever I wasn’t looking. When the hounds came bounding over to see what was up I realized that I didn’t have any personal space. Enjoy their company as much as I did that was a touch problematic.

Problematic but easy to solve. I created a room just off from the lava pool and dug around in my store until I found a stone door that was sufficiently heat resistant and installed it.

“Guys, this is… Lets go with chamber of machinations. You can both come in but you need to ask permission first, okay?” I said once my room was done. They both nodded in understanding, accepting my invitation to come and explore the new space until they lost interest and went back to playing.

Feeling whimsical I pushed the room back to create a space in front of it. To that I quickly added some rough stone furniture, effectively creating a lobby. I doubted the hounds would avail themselves of the chairs but it amused me nonetheless.

Once inside, I created a niche and put my gift from Steven into it, taking one can out to enjoy. My chamber was quieter than the lava pool and I enjoyed a few minutes of decompression. As I did, the soda changed flavors sixteen times while I drank it.

I expected flavors but to my surprise, the carbonation levels and temperature also changed without warning. It was an experience, to say the least. Once I was done, I put the empty back in the niche with the full ones and stretched.

The sodas were a nice gesture, but what I appreciated most was how Steve had shown he got the joke. The name was mine now, and while it hadn’t meant that much at first, I found my view of it changing. It hadn’t given me any sort of new ability that I could see, but I felt like something had clicked.

The feeling that something small but basic was missing was finally gone. I felt more myself in a way that was difficult to quantify. It was nice though, and I found myself relaxing more. My newfound zen didn’t change that I had work to do though.

Opening up my art interface, I started using the walls of my chamber of machinations as a notepad. I carved my thoughts onto them and felt a little giddy at how easy it was to make my mark in literal stone.

While I was adding the notes I’d already made, I had a moment of inspiration and quickly jotted it down.

[Stack]

[A collection of layers composed of combat layers, a boss room, and a safe zone. The layers should function as preparation for the stack’s boss room and subsequent stacks.]

An idea for my design finally clicked into place. I didn’t need a boss room on every layer. It would be fine to combine a few layers into a stack and put the boss at the end.

[Layer]

[A single plane with an entry and exit point.]

[Boss Room]

[The area in which a boss confrontation occurs. It should be marked by a themed entrance.]

[Safe Zone]

[An area free of monsters and traps that allows adventurers to rest. It should be visually distinct from other parts of the dungeon. Every layer featuring significant amounts of monsters or traps should feature one before the descent to the next layer down.]

[Stack]

[A collection of layers composed of combat layers, a boss room, and a safe zone. The layers should function as preparation for the stack’s boss room and subsequent stacks.]

I let out a pleased cackle, satisfied with having my basic building blocks defined. There were plenty more things I could and should define, but these were enough to get me started. Even without a theme ready to go, I could plan essential layouts and amenities.

I also had a better idea of how I wanted to handle the issue of progression. I’d need points on a yearly basis so I needed to draw in adventurers and likely non-adventurers regularly. That meant skewing the risk vs. reward in such a way they could profit somewhat before things got too difficult for them.

The first layer was quickly sketched out in blue and labeled “entry level” and I added some notes next to it. Minor traps and naturally inconvenient creatures would be fine. Things a prepared non-combatant could handle.

The lure would be harvestable items. What exactly, I’d figure out later, but it was enough of a plan to warrant writing down. It also meant I could leave the level in a relatively natural state. I added a striped box to indicate stairs at the back end of it. They would function as the point of descent into the upper layers of the dungeon.

Despite that, I still drew two more layers in blue. They would be resource rich with the level of danger increasing in a gradual way. Still comparatively safe, but not without danger, so a few deaths here and there would be expected if you went in far enough.

Because I didn’t have a solid plan for the rest yet, I just drew in some colored rectangles. Green, yellow, orange, and red to indicate level of difficulty. I cast a glance toward the lava pool that I could see through the slightly cracked doors of my chamber of machination.

I couldn’t help but feel pleased at the prospect of moving it down to the red layer eventually. Since it would be the highest level of difficulty I could make it a real slice of hell for the hounds to roam around in.