He had not planned for this but happy accidents happen after all, the goblin mused. It did rekindle another mission of his too; after all, he had some vengeance to dish out himself. But that could be put on the backburner for the moment; he needed to create a spear, hammer, and staff for his guests and some appropriate armor as well.

  The goblin sent a command to the sentinels, and they pulled bars of mithril from storage, got them glowing hot, and began to hammer away. The hammer would be simplest to design; it was, after all, a hunk of metal on a stick.

  While that cooled, Armand began to carve grooves for spell circles upon the hammer; it was easier to do so while it was still warm. He had crafted a special scalpel just for this purpose, made from hellforged mithril and enchanted with sharpening magic. Once that was done, he filled the grooves with alchemical gold, and he put in a gravity enhancement, durability, and fire enchantment.

  By the time he finished his enchant, the spear came off the line, which he put on similar enchants but felt cold and better suited to this weapon. Then came the staff. He had never created a magic staff before but it was on his list; supposedly it could reduce the mana costs for magic and would make his dungeon magic more efficient.

  While the Sentinels began to form the armor, Armand looked through the library. “Thoth!” The goblin yelled into the endless-seeming hallway.

  “I live to serve!” A voice sarcastically replied as the demon stepped out from behind the shelves.

  Armand, well used to the antics, went straight for the point. “Do you know where any books are on staff creation?”

  “Perhaps…” He said teasingly, “I want something in return.”

  “I could just order you…” Armand was not in the mood for games.

  “Very well, but I would greatly enjoy that half-orc’s soul that you have recently acquired. It would be a waste to just erase that malevolence.” The demon was practically salivating at the thought.

  The goblin closed his eyes and felt for the dungeon core; a collection of humanoid souls appeared. They all had various shades but he quickly located the crimson shade of the leader’s soul. He pulled it to himself; upon being pulled, the soul shook and tried to move but Armand’s pull was too strong.

  The red soul appeared in his grasp; the expression of the half-orc was still in terror and only grew when it spied the demon whose grin eclipsed the sides of his face. Thoth gingerly reached out and grasped the sole and slowly and deliberately moved it into his mouth.

  The goblin could pretty much hear the screams of the soul as it was gulped down. “I thought you tortured them till no more resentment was left.”

  “The torture has just started,” the demon replied, clapping his hands, changing the subject. “The book in question is Rodney’s Rigorous Guide to Rod and Staff Construction. His hand reached out and unnaturally moved through the aisles of shelves before coming back holding the rustic, bark-bound tome.

  Armand nodded and noted to never give Thoth another soul after witnessing what he just witnessed. He then began flipping through the pages; his increased soul size had enhanced his memory and he easily finished the book before arriving back at the workshop.

  So magic staves could not have magic circles engraved on them; otherwise, they would just always cast said spell whenever the user tried to cast magic through them. While having a ready-made spell was nice, it limited the stave’s true function to being a conduit.

  A good staff was made from a magic conductive material that was curled within in a way to maximize the time it took to pass through the staff. The mana would grow in potency the longer it took to pass through the staff. Usually special gnarled woods tied in magic conductive vines did the job but in this case metal would work just fine.

  He created a long spool of alchemical gold; this alone took a huge reserve of mana but he intended to craft himself a staff as well. He then summoned a rod of mithril that contained several grooves and began to wrap the alchemical gold through the grooves, making sure none of it touched.

  The goblin did a lot of careful winding but he soon completed his task. He then topped the staff with a bit of alchemical gold; he shaped it like a wolf’s head. After all, it seemed thematically appropriate to his warbeasts.

  By the time he finished, the sentinels had not only finished forging the plates and chainmail for proper armor but also a thin sleeve of hellforged mithril that he then slotted the staff into.

  When quenched, the metal contracted and formed a solid surface, protecting the interior of the staff from damage and decay. He nodded in satisfaction; this thing would easily withstand a blow from most weapons. Now that he had created it, he could copy it, but he had already burned through a lot of mana today and decided to save that for the next day.

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  He moved on to inscribing enchantments into the plate pieces of armor; the ability to inscribe such small spells into chainmail eluded him but that seemed like an ambitious project for another day.

  After many hours of hard work, he proudly looked over the table covered in various arms and armor. For a first attempt, that went very well; it could have probably gone even faster if he had more sentinels. He would soon but it would probably take the better part of the year for the souls to be wiped clean.

  He moved from the workshop over to the main room and pulled out a special book, the one he got from her. When he was first trapped here, he read and reread it constantly but now with so many other materials, he had neglected reading what began it all.

  Armand indulged in that book; he could have read it quickly but he savored every page turn. He could practically hear her voice narrating every word, a soulful hymn to his troubled soul. The goblin reached the end of the book; he closed it and the golden lettering of the title shone in the flickering flames: A Knight to Remember.

  The next day he arose, refreshed and full on mana. The first thing he did was summon a copy of the staff he created. Of course, without the casing of hell-forged metal, he did not have enough mana for that.

  Luckily mana costs could be compensated for through labor; the sentinels were already toiling away and a new cover was made and then attached.

  All the equipment had been prepared, now materials, rations, waterskins, and equipment packs. Those were quick to summon and just as quick to pack. He had the sentinels collect all the materials and he began to make his way to where the adventurers were staying.

  Once he arrived, the adventurers stood up and bowed in greeting to him. “Please sit.” The goblin insisted, and they quickly followed his request. The sentinels began to set everything upon the table. The elf and human looked pretty impressed, but only when they saw the slack-jawed expression of the dwarf did they get a hint of the gravity of what was on the table before them.

  “IS THIS MITHRIL?” The dwarf said, his voice breaking as he stressed the composition of said equipment.

  “Indeed, and enchanted with several nifty enhancements.” The goblin said with pride.

  “This is too much…” The dwarf stammered, wiping sweat from his forehead.

  “What seems to be the problem, Jomead?” The human asked.

  “You all know what this is worth, right?” The two adventurers and even the goblin shook their heads no. “These are worth a whole kingdom! The collective wealth of the generations of my forefathers could barely afford a piece of it, let alone an entire set.”

  “Merely a day’s work for me.” The goblin tried to downplay the scenario, even though he was secretly freaking out. He had read of kingdoms and, despite having no frame of reference, knew of their value and size. “Consider it an extra investment for your cooperation. Additionally, there is some equipment for Isolde here as well.”

  The dwarf was going to protest once again but the human waved his hand. “It seems we are indebted to not only Armand here but also our future master, Isolde.” Gideon said to the group, understanding the gravity of the situation.

  “No need for Master; she isn’t that type of girl.” Goblin laughed and said, “She is a troublemaker, however, so you will have your hands full.” The goblin stood up. “It has been a pleasure but I think it is better to get back to my work.”

  “Thank you, we are in your debt.” The human nodded. “We will leave soon; we just need a few more days to rest up.”

  After a moment of thought, an idea popped into his mind: “Perhaps I can take a break and indulge in some more social activities.” He said with a smile. “If you would allow me to accompany you all.”

  “It would be a pleasure,” the elf said, returning the smile in kind. The next few days Armand indulged in a different kind of guilty pleasure, interacting with people. He had Thoth, but calling him people was a bit of a stretch.

  He learned a little bit about each of them; they had met purely by chance in a bar. For some reason, many adventuring parties were formed while socially drinking. Gideon the human sought adventure because he had outgrown all the warriors in his hometown; he left to seek new challenges.

  While Theoden had lived for many hundreds of years already, purely as a scholar. His focus was on dimensional magic, ironically researching methods of creating pocket spaces. His home forest was shrinking but the population growing; he hoped to prevent territory disputes by creating more living space through dimensional magic.

  The Elf had long finished all the books related to said magic in his hometown’s library and thus went on the road in search of filling in gaps in his knowledge. Armand secretly sent one of his sentinels to Thoth to search for something in the library that might assist him in his research.

  The dwarf? Well, Jomead was looking for wealth. His father’s smithy had been slow on business and to keep their heritage alive, he and many of his brothers had become adventurers to keep it all afloat.

  Of course Armand introduced himself; he talked about his time in the tribe. How he was a misfit who wanted to learn to read, create, and explore the world. Two out of three was not bad.

  Aside from the conversations, he gave them access to the caves portion of the dungeon, and he walked them through the landscapes, the rivers, and the lakes. “It gets lonely here sometimes so I just create, usually based on pictures.”

  “Are these from The Garish Gardner?” The elf couldn’t help but exclaim.

  “Indeed, I happen to have a copy and I was in need of some inspiration.” The goblin commented.

  “It is practically mandatory reading in my hometown.” The elf was surprised but extremely satisfied. “Why the lack of plants?” The landscape was mostly just dirt and rocks after all.

  “I’m waiting for the plants to grow in.” The goblin commented, “While I can create many things, living things evade my understanding.” With that, the days flew by; the trio had returned to full health, decked themselves out in their new gear and headed out. The goblin walked them out and sadly watched them exit the large doors.

  After standing there for a while, he turned around and walked back into the depths of the dungeon.