Many Thanks To Kaged_Tiger, whose lovely fic inspired me to actually write the idea that had been
buzzing around my head, and who changed the entire format of the story by showing me the joys of
changing viewpoints. Oh, and ::taps foot:: your devoted readers are waiting for the next chapter of
Author's Note: This is based on DK1. I haven't played 2, yet. Also, it doesn't entirely follow the
rules…wonderful though Bullfrog's engine is, it never addressed intra-Dungeon politics, or bathrooms.
Any deviation from the rules is my fault, and mine alone.
Tomes of Dark and Light
In the beginning, there was darkness. Then some self-righteous twit had to come along and ruin
it. The next thing you know, the world is filled with light and mewling weaklings who mouth pretty
phrases under their gentle sun. Pathetic children who haven't a care or a brain cell between them.
Well, I'll just see about that. Come down into my cool, dark halls little Sunborn. Come down here and
learn the knowledge of the darkness, the strength that is born in tears.
I am Lady Evelyn, the Dungeon Keeper. I am the death of the Light.
Although by this time I had several strongholds, Pestilence remained my favorite. In this
catacomb, I was able to crush my rival's forces before he could ruin the earth with the messy, illogical
designs so many of my fellow Keepers seem to favor. This allowed me to expand in a pleasing way; large,
square rooms and short hallways with a minimum of decoration. Also, I had a spot of luck with the Hero
Gate, and built my main torture chamber and training room around it. Much to my Mistresses'
displeasure, we didn't get many visitors that way anymore.
With no distractions, I could build Pestilence with an eye to pleasure, rather than defense.
Now, the Library is the largest among all the Dark Brethren. I even had a first edition Forbidden
Bloodrites by Takaris. The streets of Cheery Hollow ran red on that shopping expedition, believe me. My
Warlocks go into raptures every time I visit, because they know I'll bring only the rarest texts that
I've come across in my conquests. To make room, I gutted most of the training rooms. For defense, I
keep only Atrius and Devlon, the dragon twins, and a small cadre of highly-trained Mistresses as a
welcoming party for wanna-be Heroes.
I was taking a small winter holiday after the subjugation of the once-thriving province of
Snowbell and decided to return to Pestilence to research my newest monograph on subcutaneous acid-based
interrogation techniques. Actually, I would have done better research in Bloodythorn (nee Snowbell)
where there was a rich supply of test subjects. However, Bloodythorn was bloody cold, and an evil
overlord should never be required to clean a layer of frost out of her cocoa cup of a morning.
"Exalted One," the Dragon twins greeted me (in unison, as always. No matter how many times I'd
punished them, they'd never broken the habit.) as I stepped out of the Portal. I nodded to them, and
they fell in behind me as I walked to the Dungeon Heart. I had possessed a Mistress for the journey,
and I couldn't help but smile at the nightmarish picture my minions and I presented. The Imps, darling
souls, screamed in terror and worship as they caught sight of me. With a laugh, I handed my new
acquisitions to Devlon as we passed into the scintillating glow of the Heart Chamber. "Take these to
Xyanthos, It'll take me a little while to get settled in again."
Atrius coughed as delicately as a several ton, fire breathing creature can. "Xyanthos is no
longer in possession of the title of Head Librarian. In fact, I regret to say that he no longer
possesses a head of any sort."
"Oh, really? Who happened to him?" Never let it be said that I didn't know what kind of people
"Cambri, my Lady." An image of a shockingly pale (even for a group that spens most of its life
underground) young Warlock with odd, pink eyes floated up from my memory. I frowned. He was not quite
new, but I couldn't remember ever paying much attention to him. Obviously I'd been remiss in my duties.
"Does Cambri know how to file my books?"
"There have been no complaints about his filing." I gave Atrius a sharp look out of the
Mistress's black eyes.
"But perhaps about other things?" I didn't wait for an answer. "Give him these to put away,
and then have him report after his dinner." I handed the books' protective case to Devlon as both of
the Dragons nodded gravely. I closed my eyes, and assessed the strength of my host. She was
exhausted…had I forgotten to sleep again? Damn. I turned to Atrius. "When I transfer, take Jezra here
to a Lair."
"Make sure that she gets some food, and give her one of the Imps to play with as a reward."
Muffled squeaking echoed through the cavern as the Imps scattered. I smiled. "I'm sure you can find one
that has been…lacking in initiative."
"Oh, yes, my Lady." Atrius's hungry rumble told me he'd already picked his candidate. Imps were
always a problem for my under-commanders. They were without wants, not very bright, and loyal only to
me. And since they were mine in a way that no other minion could ever be, I tended to take exception to
their physical abuse. Extreme exception. But, even Imps could be lazy, and the sacrifice of one would
remind the others to whom they belonged. A lesson that, perhaps, Pestilence needed to relearn.
Without conscious thought, I yawned. The host's fatigue was sinking into my mind like poison.
Time to leave. I closed my eyes, touched the Heart, and pushed. The Mistress dropped to the floor like
a wet piece of rope as I shed myself of her flesh and dove into the light of the Heart. The world
became dark, became Dark, as the power stored within connected with my soul. Slowly, I became aware of
the rock, of the bone and blood of my dungeon, with the heartbeats of my creatures. It was so good to