A long dream of nothing. It felt as though ages had passed, though you did not know if those ages comprised of mere moments or eons. But it was a long and dreadful nothing--one that you preferred to not experience.

Something wrested you from this nothing.

The cold stone floor greeted you. It was as if you always have been--though, you did not possess any memories before this moment. It was quite a simple place that you had found yourself in. It was some kind of cavern--one that was without a doubt unnatural. The floor and walls were simple, yet too perfect to have been carved by both nature or one's hands. A stable and sterile light came from sconces on the wall--not a flicker of flame could be seen.

Some kind of childish doodles were scribed on the wall with chalk.

In the centre of the room was a warm red crystal that floated above a simple stone pedestal. It was the size of a common man. In front of the pedestal was a long scroll that had bent and folded into itself, forming quite a large and unkempt pile. It seemed to breath, expanding and contracting but only slightly.

On the opposite end was the entry to a hall, though it was considerably darker as light failed to penetrate more than a short walk within.

Around you were 6-ish other figures of differing shapes and sizes. You could tell that they were dissimilar, yet they were fundamentally in the same position as you.

In the corner of the room was a single skeleton wearing a large set of robes.

"H-huh?" A confused voice exclaimed. Was it one of the others? No, it came from the crystal. Or at least something nearby. The scroll pile bounced and shuffled.

"That can't be right... but...?"

Rapidly, a stream of paper flew out of the pile as if being ejected by a force within. Just as quickly as it began, it stopped--the length of paper descending across the floor.

For a brief moment, there was silence.

A figure popped out of the pile of scrolls. It was some kind of exhausted, furry, well-groomed, and well-dressed beast.

"Welcome to your new dungeon, master...s?" The beast yelled out with a mix of confusion and surprising vigor.

"Now if you turn to your right," she said as they quickly stumbled out of the pile of scrolls, tripping as they ran towards the wall with childish drawings on it.


"Your goal is to protect this dungeon! Now why? That's because adventurers are going to be coming to break the core! And if they do, that means the end of all of us! Now how? By beating up the adventurers! But we're all weak right now, which means we have to rely on stewarding this dungeon to protect us too! It's kind of a fun little symbiotic relationship! When an adventurer gets defeated, that means the dungeon gets stronger as a little bit of their experience gets sucked up! But oh no! The gods love adventurers and heroes! That means that they get to be revived! Which means they're coming straight back to this dungeon! And when a hero beats up our monsters, they get experience and get... stronger! But that also means get... we get more points for beating up stronger adventurers! What do we use these p... points for? To expand the dungeon, get stronger, and get... c-cool things like equipment and materials!"

It became exceedingly obvious that by the end of this speech, the beast had lost her steam as they wheezed and held onto the wall to balance themselves. She took a few seconds to catch their breath.

"Why... why don't we start by introducing ourselves? I'm your... your dungeon spirit. I'm here to help manage your dungeon," she started, only to instead begin huffing in exhaustion. "Why don't you... start with your name, where you're from, and two truths and a lie about past..."

The dungeon spirit shook her head.

"Wait... Right... This hasn't happened before. Uh. Don't share those. You don't have them. Give me your name, and..." They paused to think about what she could ask. "What you'd like my name to be! Yea! I need one of those too!"


New Units:
???: 4* Dungeon Spirit


New Possessions:
1* - 3x Fabric (Old)
1* - 1x Skeleton (Human?)

---

_____________________________________

. . . .Remember: this is the most important decision of your life! The choice is irreversible and the consequences will be overarching!

Muste's tentacles slowly writhed as the illithid came to, his eyes opening lethargically to take in his surroundings. He immediately understood that he was in an underground shelter of some kind, as it instinctually resonated as a safe place if not even home to him. He then deduced it to be a dungeon based on the presence of a dungeon core that radiated magnificent magical power. But there was no Mother Brain to greet him, nor even a traditional spawning pool of an illithid nest. The confusion only passed for a moment before the fledgling sorcerer understood that he had been spawned by the core itself.

The illithid, dressed in a black coat and hat, carefully lowered his walking cane as the scroll pile exclaimed in surprise at what looked like long-dead human remains. This was followed by the raccoon-looking beast woman/spirit(?) explaining the situation, to which the illithid sighed and nodded, turning towards the others. He recognized the same Shard of Authority in them that he also possessed: they were all equally qualified to manage the dungeon, something that could prove problematic should there be a conflict of interest or siloing. He examined the group.

A shadowy ghost with a beak or nose caught his attention first: he did not care for undead, as they lacked the delicious morsel he most craved in the cranium. However, he could use an employee who was tireless and capable of more subtle activities, should they prove useful.
He also noted a serpentine monster with a particularly refined appearance: they seemed capable enough, and should they possess the ability to enter human settlements in disguise, that was a a chance for him to get his tendrils on a proper dinner. There were also goblins and rats, and a monster he did not have knowledge of. Overall, It seemed quite a mish-mash of creatures, with representatives of multiple monster factions, but it wouldn't deter him from making a proper introduction for his first day at work.

"My name..." Muste spoke, his voice sounding a bit raspy, likely due to the facial tentacles. "...Is Muste. As of today I will be joining the dungeon development team as a magic specialist and artifact developer."
He touched his coat pocket to check for items, and found a grimoire. He quickly skimmed through the contents as he spoke, the spells contained in the tome as natural to him as the written word. "For my salary, I prefer human brains, with magical items and spelltomes as a secondary priority. In return, I provide expertise in arcane mysteries and improving the dungeon from the magical perspective. Uh, that is all."

Muste realized his introduction wavered off at the end. Well, he wasn't working in the public relations department any time soon. The dungeon sprit then gave the team their first item on the agenda for the meeting. "Miss Dungeon Spirit, you represent a party that is invested in the dungeon's operation and success, as you all can clearly see by how we have been summoned and given Shards of Authority." He lifted his cane, casually placing the rounded handle in his other hand.
"To that end, I think you should be named either Dungeon Owner, Stakeholder, or Client." In his head, they were perfect titles for one of the most important entities an employee, even one working in a dungeon, would know.

Sal awoke.

Before assessing her surroundings, the first thing she did was stand up. It wasn’t until Sal was on her feet that she realized that she had no recollection of where she was. That wasn't to say she was ignorant about her surroundings. They were underground, that red spinning thing was a crystal, and that long piece of parchment was a scroll. But other than that she was lost. She couldn’t remember going to sleep, or really anything before waking up here. It was possible that this was her first time standing up, as unlikely as it seemed.

She lifted her hands up in front of her face. Even with her situation being unclear to her, what she saw looked familiar. The dress was tattered towards the back, and she understood that came with age. When she looked further down her body, she didn’t find anything that surprised her. Everything felt strangely natural, even though she wasn’t intimately acquainted with it all yet. Her otherwise revealing dress came with a single pauldron. By reaching under it, she could feel some hidden compartments, but wasn’t aware of why she had them, or even why she would have bothered checking. For all she didn’t know, she at least had an understanding of what she was. Moreover, she seemed to understand the line of monsters she was standing with, and that she was superior to all of them somehow.

There was an Illithid at one end of the line. It had a lanky appearance that its fine clothes couldn’t hide. It was also bald. Deep eyes though. Five out of ten.

There was a ghost. It was difficult to make out the shape of their body, but their profile left a bit to be desired. What was with that nose? Even better eyes though. Judgement pending, but four out of ten for now.

Rats. Just a pile of rats. Nothing but vermin. Kind of cute though. Three out of ten.

A goblin. Short and easy to punt. Hmm, but that nose. There’s not a single wart to be seen. Nine out of ten among goblins, but a four out of ten on her scale.

Another goblin. What’s with this one? She’s so disfigured, but that face? Ten out of ten face, two out of ten with everything.

And… She didn’t know what to call this one. It looked like a headless human suspended in an abyss of stars. Very unnatural. Not sure how to feel. Rating pending.

There looked to be room at the far end of the line for someone else, but it was empty. Even though she could remember nothing of this room, she could almost make out what should have been there. A Barghest? No. An Ogre Berzerker? No. A succubus? No. Maybe a heavy centaur? Maybe, but then why weren't they there? Sal couldn’t rate something that didn’t exist, and this random thought was soon put out of her mind.

A skeleton wearing robes. Possibly a lich? Didn’t seem to be moving. No point in rating.

As soon as Sal finished her assessment, a noise caught everyone’s attention. She turned her head, then her eyes towards the distraction as it made its appearance. It half mumbled, half explained things with the assistance of a chalk drawing on the wall. It was a rather pitiful presentation, and one that she felt she could have done better. But it was helpful to know why they were here, even if she didn’t understand the how yet.

There were a lot of questions that Sal wanted to ask, but it seemed like everyone was supposed to introduce themselves. The Illithid wasted no time going first, even going as far as mentioning his occupation. Dungeon development team? It sounded familiar to Sal somehow, in the same sense that she knew she belonged in her body. What seemed less natural was the request to be paid in human brains. Was that something that was freely traded? Were they preferred to elf brains or beast man brains? And those names for the dungeon spirit were just…

Once the Illithid was done. Sal cleared her throat.

"My name issssssss…"

Alright, let’s try that again.

"My name issssssss…"

Okay, this could be a problem.

Again, Sal’s speech impediment felt like a natural part of her, even if she only learned of it now. Something else she was becoming aware of was how humiliating this felt. She couldn’t say her own name? Really? How was she supposed to maintain respect this way?

Fortunately, she had a plan. But it felt less like a plan and more like some practiced motion she suddenly remembered to execute. Sal put out her hand and a long placard appeared in it. It was pale and ivory, and had her name carved into it. She pointed at the letters and sounded them out.

"Ssssal, bbbbbyorg." She pronounced it slowly. "That will be what you call me." Crisis averted. Majesty maintained, probably. "Now for your name…"

The dungeon spirit had asked what it should be called. It didn’t sound like it wanted a unanimous decision, but just wanted to hear suggestions. As such, there was no need to limit herself to what Muste wanted to call it, nor would he even need to be debated before presenting her own choice. A name needed to fit the subject but complement the owner. And given that this creature seemed to be subservient to them, given that they were dungeon masters, it made sense that its name should complement them. She flipped the placard around, and a new name was on the back that read "Bóthildur."

"We will call you Bbboh-thhhil-dddoor." She sounded it out like she had with her own name.

Perhaps calling the dungeon spirit "battle-helper" was a little on the nose, and not too far from what Muste was going for. But this was so much better. Perhaps too good for a seven out of ten creature.

On the floor of the dungeon sanctum, among the miscellaneous beings that ran the gamut of monsterhood from ordinary creature to traditional demihuman to eldritch entity, lay an unassuming pile of rags. Dark, shapeless, and threadbare, as if discarded and left to rot in some antediluvian epoch and gnawed by untold generations of moths in the intervening eons since, these decrepit garments gave off a venerable musk, but possessed no other extraordinary qualities that one could see. Only once the frayed textiles began to shift, as if caught in the teasing touch of some inexplicable subterranean wind, could an onlooker begin to realize that there might be more to these rags than met the eye. The heap of cloth bulged outward, then began to writhe, as if some unseen captive within were straining to find its way out. As it pushed against the confines of its prison, the raggedy membrane molded around its extremities, those contours suggestive of clawed hands, knobby elbows, and inhuman faces.

Finally, after only a few moments of struggling, a limb slipped through a gap in the cloth. It was gangly to the point of emaciation, scarcely more than bone, its five, unnaturally long digits terminating in wicked, talon-like claws. Moreover, it was jet black, pitch black, black as night. For a moment that solitary limb simply lay there, resting like a newly hatched bird as it soaked in the stark, clinical light that shone from the sanctum's sconces. Then those elongated fingers twitched like spider legs, randomly and incoherently tapping and scratching at the stone floor. The palm began to smack the ground, like an irate rabbit thumping, and when the palm had its fill the claws united to rake across the sheer surface. Then, as the hand stood atop its clawed fingers, an eye bulged out of the back of the hand. It wobbled, gelatinous in consistency, as concentric black rings highlighted by bright pink and cyan chromatic aberration collapsed inward to a central point that stared around at its surroundings, surveying the strange and perplexing new existence it had awakened to for the first time.

Another couple seconds passed before the eye receded, and more limbs sprouted from the pile of rags. They propped themselves against the floor like their predecessor did, and the heap rose, getting taller an taller until the cloth assumed the form of a hooded cloak. A yawning void opened in the hood's center, and through that black aperture the darkness extended, assuming the shape of an enormous nose. Its nostrils flared as the specter inhaled, breathing deep of the stale dungeon air. In that moment, the shadow self-actualized. Then he sneezed, doubling over. "Ohh," a hollow, reedy, nasal voice moaned. "It smells of magic in here."

The specter wiped his nose with the back of his hand, then sniffled miserably. More psychedelic eyes bulged outward from the darkness within his cloak, and from the sides of his nose, peering out through the tears in his garment. Their gaze was uncomfortably intense as they identified the various objects and monsters around him, but soon enough the eyes disappeared again, and the shadow put two hands to his head to massage his temples. "The nothingness," he complained, more to himself than anyone. "It was simply...sublime. No smells, no messes, no disorder, no discord. Just...nothing. Darkness, in every direction. I was one with the darkness, and it with me. Dreamlessly asleep in the gentle, velvety embrace of nihility...a kind and caring mother...Mother Void." He instinctively understood where he was, of course, and what he was, and why. He just didn't much care for it. Since he was here, though, and he didn't know the way back, he naturally figured he might as well do whatever he could to make things here more like they'd been there. Why else would the core have picked him, after all?

Now fully situated, the shadow floated over toward the furthest corner from the humming, crystalline dungeon core, where he hung in the air as he listened to the strange creature's briefing. Her delivery struck him as rather asinine, and briefly he wondered if she was being purposefully condescending, but he decided not to turn up his nose at her just yet. Ultimately, the principles behind what he and the others needed to do were quite simple, and the shadow felt himself equal to the task. However, his mission mission started to get more complicated when he considered all the random monsters that had manifested alongside him. A tentacled aberration, a naga of some stripe, a couple dopey-looking goblins, and...a kind of airborne sarcophagal siphonophore? And they were all to be partners in this endeavor? Oh no. A few of them looked like they ought to know what they were doing, but they also reeked of magic; he could already feel himself getting congested. With so many drastically different individuals crammed together, all equal in station with no actual chain of command, things were bound to get messy. And that simply wouldn't do.

The dungeon spirit proceeded to request everyone's names, as well as an addition appellation for herself, which any of the seven dungeon keepers could evidently suggest. At first the shadow had very little stake in the matter and was inclined to say he simply didn't care, but after both Muste and Salbjorg introduced themselves, his dissatisfaction with their suggestions got the proverbial gears turning in his head. Surely he could whip up something more satisfactory? At least the Shahmaran's manner of speech gave him plenty of time to think. "Schnupfen the shadow, at your service," he declared with a formal bow. "All I ask is that I be allowed to steer clear of magic. I have something of an...adverse reaction."

He then turned his attention toward the dungeon spirit, tenting not one but three sets of fingers in a most contemplative manner as boggled eyes examined her. "Perhaps I misheard, but I thought this creature requested a name, not a job description. A name is something...hmm, personal." His eyes narrowed. "You do rather resemble the little masked bandit, Waschbär. Fitting for the one who stole me away from Mother Void, hm?" Schnupfen shrugged his various arms. "But if that is not to your liking, perhaps simply 'Kleine' would suit you, little one."

With the two go-getters and Schnupfen out of the way, that just left the goblins and the extradimensional sea-angel, so things were about to get interesting.

Zoppy was awoken from her slumber by the sound of a loud voice welcoming her to… a dungeon? Slowly opening her groggy eyes, the small, emaciated goblin noticed an equally diminutive creature stumbling over to a nearby wall. Zoppy was vaguely aware of other creatures in the chamber with her, but the one that was moving and talking had captured her full attention, or rather, the crude illustration said creature had made on the nearby wall had.

“Zoppy likez yer drawin’!” the small goblin chirped as she scampered over to get a closer look (miraculously managing not to fall on her face, or crash into the wall, in the process). The image was absolutely fascinating to the dimwitted girl, although her attention was mainly drawn to the arrows pointing to the words “equipment” and “cool things”, sparking the first glimmers of an idea in her barely-there brain. She didn’t really understand much of what the babbling creature was saying, especially with the sound of her heart pounding in her ears from having run over so fast, but when she heard the creature’s request for introductions, she grinned a broad, excited smile filled with sharp, misshapen teeth.

“Zoppy’s name iz Zoppy!” she told the creature, whirling around to face her while holding out a badly deformed hand for a shake.

Unfortunately, she moved a bit too fast, and lost her barely-there-to-begin-with balance, sending the scrawny goblin crashing against the equally scrawny dungeon spirit.

“Wow… Yer really soft…” Zoppy murmured as she let her head sink into the creature’s fur. “You’d make a really… nice… pillow…” she added, before drifting off into a contented slumber, her meager supply of energy having been completely depleted.

"GRAHGAEFG!!"

At 5000 GIQ (Goblin Intelligence Quotient), it took all of 0.003 seconds for Zogi to grasp the situation within his wrinkled brain, and he acted with speed that almost surpassed the thoughts of the illithid. A verdant blur, he struck like a grassy viper, immediately extricating his fellow goblin-companion (what in the Green was wrong with her face though? It was so flat, so smooth, so dull! Like a stinkin' elf child who thought it'd be funny to smear leaf-juice on their face!) from the admittedly-appealing stomach-fur of their Proto-Employer. While Zoppy snored, her head now placed upon a soft patch of dungeon soil, Zogi immediately hoisted the raccoon-furry-creature back up onto their feet, patted the dust off their coat, and transitioned into a grovelling kow-tow, practically sharpening his perfectly-formed nose upon the earth as he pleaded with the very essence of his body.

“Boss! Boss, ya gotta forgive da kid, see? She don’t know nothin’, a real dizzy broad, I swear it! Us gobbos, we get all twisted up in leggin' n noggin', kakaka! So real, lemme take de lumps for her, eh? Lil’ Zogi’s the meathead that shoulda kept her in line, teachin' her ta be all proper-like wit ya! Say da word, Big-Boss, and I'll even do it to m'self!”

It went without saying, after all, that if this trash-panda-fella could bring them into this world, then they surely could otherwise bring them out of this world too. And Zogi certainly could not let a fellow Sister of the Green be erased, before the revolution has even begun!

A headless corpse was wrenched from the void, some half formed idea not yet ready to be unleashed upon the world. Perhaps it had intended to be a Dullahan, or perhaps some animal headed god or demihuman for which only a custom head and some parts needed to be added. Instead, it was summoned raw, incomplete … and with the construction framework still attached.

The corpse materialized, hanging in the air, arms outstretched to either side, legs ramrod straight down. A most default, and yet also most unnatural, of poses.

Around it a sea of stars surrounded by a luminous azure membrane took up a few meters of space horizontally. Vertically, it extended up into the ceiling and down into the floor.

This left the thing’s eye staring at some rock in the first moments of its existence.

This would not do.

The corpse moved, hands coming together, legs crouching, and then the entire thing bent down to prostrate itself in the air. As it did so, the form around it tilted 90 degrees and soon enough the void angle proper appeared.

Mostly.

Its wings and back still clipped into the ceiling, its tail into a wall, but its hands were in the room, as was its eye that glowed like a red supergiant star beheld its new reality, and the company it was now in.

Company that immediately made it feel out of place.

It processed this feeling for a moment, and then decided that this was simply proof that it was the most important. The closest to god. For naturally fate would not mimic the form of some mundane thing but the cosmos over which it ruled all things.

Of course, it would not brag about such authority, as clearly it would simply be self evident.

“All will know me as the Oracle of-” it began to say in deep yet smooth tone, only for its voice to hitch and become flat and personalityless as the writing on paperwork for a moment as it said “-INSERT DUGENON NAME HERE-”

It did not seem to notice this.

Instead it continued on as if nothing had happened, declaring “-and I shall be your most holy dialup connection to the God of Fate. By its will have we pulled this most unusual of circumstances, and by its grace it has it in turn blessed this dungeon with an interpreter of its will. It is a turbulent sea of destiny we shall sail, and upon them I shall be our navigator, interpreter of signs, and master of offerings!”

Case and point of the turbulent nature of the sea, the two gobins were already making things more interesting, one by taking a nap on the dungeon spirit, the other by groveling in her place for this missdeed. This just would not do.

“Oh holy Fate, render judgment upon this slothful goblin!” the being said, bringing both hands together as it clasp them in prayer, only to form a hollow cup with them instead. This cup it proceeded to shake, causing a rattling sound to emerge from within, before it tossed them forward and opened them up to unleash a wave of 8d8 dice.

These bounced along the three meters of floor between it and Zoppy, where they proceeded to glow and then flash with holy light as they came to a stop, vanishing a moment after displaying a combined result of 17, emitting not an iota of magical radiation in the process. In their place a rooster was summoned, prompting the Oracle to lean in anticipation of divine retribution, only for it to deflate a little as it recognized that this one was not about to crow in order to wake the goblin.

Mainly because it was a plush rooster, not a real one. One that Fate had carefully tucked under the dozing goblin’s arm.

Admittedly it wasn't exactly a very good soft toy. Definitely F- grade. It looked as if it started off being made of old rags and had then seen a decade of rough love since then despite being freshly spawned into existence. But still, judgement had been rendered nonetheless, and the Oracle took this in its stride and promptly moved on.

“Now, to the matter of the name! Fate shall decree this too!” the Oracle declared, before rapidly chanting out “1,2,3” while jabbing its finger thrice at Muste, then adding “4” with a jab at Salbjörg, and finally “5, 6” when doing the same twice at Schnupfen. Finally it summoned a d6 dice and flicked it, causing it to roll and clink across the floor before coming to a stop.

No flash of light emerged from this one. Instead the Oracle's neck craned its eye all the way down and all the way in to look at this tiny number from a single cm away, before pulling back up and declaring that it had gotten “A six!”

It is called this “A most fortuitous beginning!" before freezing, raising its hands and tapping the fingers together in mild agitation as it murmured “or perhaps a waste of a good roll…” before shaking its head and returning to bombast as it jabbed a finger at the dungeon spirit and declared that “As Fate decrees, so shall your name now and forevermore be Kleine!”

The small beast rubbed her chin as the suggestions for names came in.

"Hm. Dungeon Owner doesn't quite make sense. Stakeholder or Client are decent." She noted of the illithid's suggestions. She didn't seem too displeased over being called such things.

"Bóthildur, huh? I like it. Though, I'd probably end up forgetting the decoratic a little too often." She seemed a bit pleased over it, though her meandering face seemed as though she would more often go by some shortened form of it to avoid the "decoratic", as she put it.

"Waschbär? Hm..." She seemed a little displeased about being called a bandit, but she quickly shook off her displeasure and moved on to the next suggestion. "Kleine.... Not quite sure what that means, but I like that one."

Of course, the dungeon spirit was caught off balance when Zoppy had collided into her in her first impression. It would appear that fur comprised a surprising amount of her mass considering how quickly she was knocked over. A loud "gwuh!" escaped from the dungeon spirit as they made some strange stone-beast-goblin sandwich.

Just as quickly as she was knocked over, she was righted with the force of 1 GP (goblinpower) and could only let a quiet "huh" escape.

The more sycophantic goblin's seemed to have a survival instinct that was both immense and completely inaccurate.

"I'm not quite your employer or boss and I'm not really upset at it. Accidents happen." she said as she gave an airheaded smile and scratched the back of her head. "I suppose it's more accurate to call me a secretary. The closest thing you have to a big-boss are The Rules."

Finally, it was the odd one's turn. The dungeon spirit could only crook her head as the rain of dice flew towards the small goblin, only for it to be revealed that fate was a cheap and not-unpleasant mistress. Then came the Oracle's name suggestion, chosen by providence.

With a few shakes and a nod of her head, the dungeon spirit had acquired something that was not given to her.

"Hm. Well, I suppose that a proper majority won't be required for this, especially since we're so short on time--we can't quite afford to have run-offs just yet."

With a curtsy, the dungeon spirit reintroduced herself.

"I am Kleine the Illusion. Pleased to meet you and I hope we get along."


With those words, a spark washed over the seven or so newcomers. Though they may have recognized it earlier, a clarified understanding flowed into their minds and with it--the power bestowed to each of them from birth was revealed.



Alongside this understanding came a hum from the crystal. It became brighter--if so ever slightly.



A wave of electricity seemed to move from the tip of Kleine's toes to the top of her head. Her fur stood up as her eyes were drawn to the core room's entryway.

"It appears that we've been discovered," she said as a worried look washed over her face. Lifting her hands, a screen of magic formed to reveal a moving image. It was difficult to see, but there was a figure that traversed a dark stone hall. With some strenuous focusing from Kleine, features of the figure began to be identifiable. It was a human boy with a sword in hand.

"I wonder what that 'gwuh' noise was." The boy's voice came through the screen. Though it was covered in fur, the colour seemed to drain from Kleine's face as she refused to make eye contact.


New Understanding:
Kleine: 4* Dungeon Spirit


New Foes:
Lv. 1 Hero
A boy with sword in hand. He doesn't seem powerful in the slightest.

---

_____________________________________

. . . .Do avoid dying. It's quite difficult for most to come back from that.

After Schnupfen's introduction and recommendation, the shadow ceded the floor to the two goblins, at which point things took an interesting turn. The smaller and more malformed of the two seemed to have a tentative grasp on reality. While she managed to give her name when prompted, the feeble young thing was clearly neither sound of mind nor body, a far more literal newborn than the rest of the newly-summoned dungeon keepers. Schnupfen watched from his dark corner in silent amazement as Zoppy promptly overexerted and exhausted herself, down for the count. If the shadow had any semblance of human empathy, he might have pitied the poor fool, but at the moment the question on his ethereal mind was why? The spectacle did not inspire a great deal of confidence in the dungeon core, specifically its decision-making process for recruitment, if indeed there was some form of design in play.

Things got even more chaotic when the second goblin, Zogi, jumped in to take responsibility, shift blame, and beg forgiveness for the little mutant's transgressions. To Schnupfen, the senior goblin's kowtowing seemed like a serious overreaction. By her own admission the meek, rather childish dungeon spirit was just a helper after all, more of a clerk than a boss. But...perhaps the old adage about deceiving appearances held sway here? Part of Schnupfen couldn't help but be suspicious. Maybe Zogi knew more about the dungeon's true nature than he let on, and something sinister lurked behind the little creature's furry facade? No, surely not...but just to be sure, Schnupfen resolved to be a bit more respectful. It was no skin off his back, after all, and even in the dark depths of a dungeon the golden rule -treat others how you wish to be treated- shone through.

Compared to those two, the introduction of the Oracle came with all the gravitas that one might expect of such an otherworldly entity. When its scarlet star phased into the core chamber and swept around the room, examining the entity's compatriots, Schnupfen instinctively shrank back from its searing hydrogen gaze. When he pressed himself against the wall, the shadow became two-dimensional, his enormous nose oriented sideways as a handful of eyes manifested in an involuntary defensive response. Starlight and darkness were natural enemies, after all, opposing sides of the same cosmic coin. Fortunately, his fear faded somewhat as the Oracle proceeded to demystify itself a bit, its odd speech patterns, grandiose verbiage, and reliance on dice painting a quainter, quirkier picture than its first impression implied. Still, its ability to manipulate reality -as demonstrated by its pillow conjuration- was nothing to shake a stick at.

It seemed fate was on Schnupfen's side, though, as the Oracle's dice decided upon his own name suggestion, and the dungeon spirit proceeded to adopt it. The shadow's eyes looked a little smug as he drifted back out of his wall, prior to his peepers' de-manifestation. "How serendipitous. 'Kleine' means 'little one', naturally! A term of...endearment, yes." He was somewhat paranoid of her thinking that he might be passive-aggressively mocking her, which wouldn't have been one hundred percent untruthful, but hopefully she -and the others- would assume the best.

In truth, the dungeons' new denizens had bigger fish to fry. After officially receiving the dungeon's authority, which made Schnupfen shiver and sniffle as though as a chill had run down his shadowy spine, Kleine alerted the motley crew of dungeon keepers to an unexpected intrusion. Schnupfen, distracted as he attempted to internalize all the nitty-gritty details, almost didn't hear her at first. Only when he turned his sizable schnoz in the direction of Kleine's weightless scrying mirror, bug a couple eyes out, and behold the young adventurer's foray for himself did the reality of the situation really sink in.

"WHAT!?" Schnupfen manifested several pairs of hands that he clamped to his head as eyes bulged out between his fingers, all pointed in random directions. In that instant he also realized that the boy might even be close enough to hear him, so he reduced his voice to a panicked, incredulous whisper. "There's an intruder already? He's already here? Oh, this is terrible, terrible, terrible! Sure, he looks like your everyday brat, but we're fresh out of the oven ourselves--no mobs, no gear, no traps, no power! It's basically a straight line here! And the closest thing we have to frontline fighters are goblins and a couple of rats? Oh Mother Void, why must you play such tricks on me!?" With a miserable groan, the shadow blew his nose on the rags of his sleeve, then flicked the ectoplasm away.

He took a deep breath as his eyes closed, his nostrils flaring as he drew in as much air as he could to try and clear his head. "No, no, no, don't despair just yet. All this blasted magic's making my poor head spin. Even if we lack might, we've got the brains to make this happen." He prodded his temples with clawed index fingers from either side, then turned toward the dungeon core. "Not to mention the means. We must make haste and summon as fast as possible. We must requisition variety of minions, items to kit them out, and traps to set up with the time they buy us." Schnupfen glanced at the siphonophore. "Beseech that 'holy Fate' for good fortune on our behalf, won't you, Oracle? Or your reunion with THEM will be expedient." He turned his nose toward the core room's entrance. "I can buy some time. I doubt I can meaningfully harm that jackanapes, but the reverse should be true as well. Today, he will learn that fear has a name--and that it is Schnupfen."

Letting out some snarling, ominous laughter, Schnupfen drifted away into the darkness, headed away from the core chamber and toward the main entrance. Once the dungeon expanded and assumed a more strategically sound, labyrinthine layout, being incorporeal would shave a lot more off his travel time, but he could still move fast, like leaves tumbling on a chilly autumn breeze. He doubted that an ordinary human could glimpse him in the gloom, but nevertheless he avoided the corridor's center, floating in a straight line through each room just under the ceiling until an unmistakably human shape slipped into the radius of his blindsight. Then he stopped, perfectly silent and still, practically imperceptible even if the kid did think to look upward, and took a moment to examine the intruder.

As expected, the situation was bad, not because the adventurer seemed especially capable, confident, or well-armed, but because he still posed a real threat in spite of his paltry abilities and gear. If this dungeon really fell to a brat with a wooden sword, maybe Schnupfen and the others deserved to die. After arriving and finding himself in what appeared to be a dead-end chamber, the boy had evidently been smart, creative, or lucky enough to trial-and-error his way through the first illusory wall. One more, and he would be able to see the core itself. The only thing in his way was his own preconceived notion that a second illusory wall couldn't possibly be directly ahead from the first one.

That, and Schnupfen, of course.

The shadow could waste no more time. As the boy neared the center of the second rightmost chamber, Schnupfen drifted down and around him, giving him a wide berth. His pitch-black claws plucked a small stone from the floor, which he hurled down the hall that the intruder had come through. Thanks to his meager strength it didn't go far, but it made enough of a clatter that the boy stopped cold and whipped around with a sound somewhere between a yelp and a gasp. "Who's there?"

Silence was his only reply. A couple seconds passed before he dared to breath. "Knew I should've brought a torch," he muttered. The little wall sconces made it bright enough that he could find his way, but they left lots of dark corners. When he turned to continue, he heard the sound of claws scraping on stone. This time he rushed toward the wall the sound was coming from, but when he got there he found no sign of any monsters. The next moment, another clatter from a thrown pebble, in front of him this time. "Enough!" he called into the darkness as he stepped forward. He clenched his fist as he waved his sword. "Come out and face me! I'm not scared of you!"

"Are you lost, little lamb?"

The voice was raspy, ethereal, and monstrously inhuman, with only a trace of Schnupfen's accent. It seemed to come from several directions, thanks to the multiple mouths the shadow had manifested on extended arms to whisper with. When he heard it the kid jumped, looking around in all directions to try and pinpoint the source, his teeth clenched as goosebumps races across his skin.

"You're awfully far from home," the evil voice drawled. "Aren't you afraid of the dark?"

"No!" the boy barked into the darkness, defiant. "I'm not afraid of anyone anymore!" To prove it, he began to move, walking along the room's perimeter with one hand against the wall, trying to feel for illusions.

Schnupfen knew he had to act fast to stop him. He floated down, approaching the adventurer from behind. He wanted to manifest a half-dozen arms and slash him with pitch-black claws, or perhaps close his fingers around the brat's throat and choke the life from him, but if his strength proved insufficient it would only toughen the stubborn kid's resolve. "Oh, little lamb," he murmured as he reached out to tap the boy on the shoulder. "You should be."

"Aah!"

Alarmed, the adventurer's fight-or-flight reflex kicked in, and he chose fight. He whirled around, and his wooden sword swept through the shadowy, tattered mass of Schnupfen's body. The specter cackled as he cascaded downward, becoming a two-dimensional blotch on the floor beneath and around the intruder. Psychedelic eyes bulged out of the shadow, looking around wildly before fixating on the young man above them. "I see you!"

"Gah! Ahh! Hah! HAH!" The boy went for the eyes, first stabbing at them with his sword, them just stomping on them with his boots. No matter how many times he tried, though, his attacks never seemed to have any effect. If an eye disappeared, a new one just appeared elsewhere in a fantastical game of whack-a-mole. It wasn't long, though, before his panic -and his efforts- began to wane.

Schnupfen's eyes blinked at him. "Why have you stopped?"

"It's a trick," the intruder muttered, his eyes lighting up. "Just like the walls!"

The shadow's eyes narrowed. "Oh, foolish little lamb. Your nightmare has only just begun..."

The adventurer crossed his arms. "If you could actually hurt me, you wouldn't need to try and scare me off!" He began to move. "And like I said before, I'm not scared!"

"Wait, hold on-" Schnupfen's voice started to falter as he hurried to manifest hands that rose from the shadow to grasp at the boy's feet and legs, only for him to kick loose pretty easily. He did stumble, but as luck would have it, he stumbled straight toward the second illusory wall. Schnupfen tried to grab at him to no avail, his voice lapsing completely. "Oh, for fuck's sake..."

"I doubt you would forget your own name." And if Sal could read minds, she would probably disagree with going for a shorter version of that name. The only way she could see someone doing that would be if the name was being written. In particular, with a device that made writing special characters a pain in the rear. Like if you had some runestones with letters on them, and touching the runestones with the letter on them caused them to appear on a magical glass tablet. That would be the only case she could see for someone shortening their name. But she couldn’t read minds, so none of this actually happened.

Sal had not been sure what to make of Schnupfen. It wasn’t clear if his comment regarding names was aimed at Muste exclusively or Sal as well. If he had intended to include her, and why wouldn’t you try, then he was openly rejecting her suggestion. Such defiant behavior was uncouth. The alternative was he chose not to acknowledge her suggestion. Neither of those were particularly flattering, but she did appreciate that Schnupfen had the common sense to back away from everyone before making such rude remarks. Should this factor into how she rated him? She was unsure.

The antics of the goblins were observed, but none of it appeared to interest Sal. She raised an eyebrow once their exchange came to an end. At the very least, she felt confident in her original assessment on the furry assistant. While her form paled in comparison to more majestic creatures (like herself) she was dutiful if nothing else. She had earned her secretary title if nothing else.

But the Oracle was about to steal the show. While clearly not as attractive as Sal, it exuded power and authority. Sal was good at keeping her emotions in check and gave no outward hints that she was impressed. But on the inside she was deeply fascinated by what all the grandstanding would lead to. Her mouth unhinged slightly as he invoked the lord’s judgment on the goblin, and Sal felt the punishment was sufficient for the crime. It wasn’t until the massive creature thrust its ethereal fingers at everyone who had given a name that her cool exterior began to crack. Her mouth opened further, her chest swelled when "four" was called out and the divine finger was pointing straight into her soul. She found herself holding her breath as a single dice was rolled across the floor. Shortly afterwards, a name had been decided. While it hadn’t been the one she had chosen, it was difficult to argue with the results. Time was short, there was no time to debate, and the dice did not play favorites. Perhaps her name was too good for Kleine. Maybe she was only a six. But if there was someone in this room that was a ten, it might be the Oracle.

"Kleine the Illusion…" Salbjörg appreciated that the name was trivial for her to pronounce if nothing else. Next came more understanding, but not the time to reflect on it. Schnupfen had something of a meltdown and began shouting orders, or maybe suggestions. Entertaining any of that was far beneath her, as she had another, far more pressing problem to deal with.

Even though Salbjörg had pulled herself off of the cold floor, her body wasn’t getting warmer. After considering it for a moment, the reason for this became obvious. Her body wasn’t generating its own heat. She rubbed her hands together to build friction, but that wasn’t going to be enough.

"Hmmm…" Sal’s eyes locked onto Zoppy. She reached for the goblin and picked her up with one hand. The sleeping green skin was emitting heat, and didn’t look like she was going to protest too much if she was moved slightly. Salbjörg cradled her other arm and placed Zoppy in it, gently leaning her head on her cleavage. Yes, this seemed to be working. She could feel her bones sucking up the goblin’s heat and found the current arrangement agreeable.

Once she was set up, she looked back at the screen to see what was going on. It seemed like Schnupfen, in addition to being whiney and rude, was also kind of useless against such a weak intruder. Her initial assessment of him had been too high. He was a solid three.

"Do whatever you like." She told the others with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I’ll be back before long." And then Sal went to meet their opposition, heat blanket in tow.

…

…

…

Maybe she should have asked for directions, but Salbjörg found the path ahead to be simple enough to navigate. Any time she entered a new room, there was always exactly one entrance to another room ahead of her, which made locating her prey that much easier. It was disappointing the threat was so weak, but that just presented an opportunity to experiment. In particular, Sal wanted to demonstrate her presentation.

She could see him now. A silhouette that looked similar to what Kleine had shown them. Immediately she changed how she walked. Her hips swung wide, her steps were firm and slow. The sound of each step would carry into the next room, and it was having the desired effect. The boy had stopped his advance and held out his sword, quivering just a bit in his shaky hand. Sal was looking straight over his head where a worthy adventurer’s eyes might be. When she stepped past the threshold of the passageway, she cast out her hand, and fragments of her bone placard circled around her. Their clicking and clacking filled the room with noise. Her eyes swiftly dropped to the boy, causing him to hop backwards. He swallowed hard. A ghost was intangible, but there was no doubt that this monster could hurt the boy if she wanted to.

And boy was a very apt descriptor for the intruder, as they were a child. He wore the simple clothes of a commoner. Dirty whites and patchwork brown covered his outfit. He had a small pouch on one hip, and a sword in the other. Or perhaps calling it a club would be more accurate, as it was a wooden sword. The boy wore no armor, and one of his leather shoes had pulled apart enough to reveal his toes. Despite his disheveled appearance, the boy had bright, golden hair that tumbled down his shoulders. He was no higher than a seven now, but over time his beauty could mature. Sal grinned, which further unsettled the boy.

"You’re awfully loud." She flicked her tongue. "And you look lossssssst." The intention was to scare, so Salbjörg did not mind sounding the part of a monster. "Do you want to go back home?"

"I-I’m not lost! Why does everyone say that? I-I’m just-"

"Sssssscared?" Sal "assisted" him. Her smile only widened.

"I… just don’t understand why you’re cradling a goblin?" Her eyes flicked down to the goblin she was cradling against her chest. "Like, is that your baby? Did you adopt it? Is that something monsters do?"

With a long, tired groan, the snake woman raised her head. "You asssssk too many quessssstionssssss. Let me fix that."

The bone fragments converged into a single chaotic mass, which formed into a bowl when she took hold of it. The boy shifted on his feet as she moved the bowl to her lips. Sal bit down and her fangs deployed a stream of thick, green fluid. The bowl then folded in on itself. At first it seemed malleable like wet clay, but then it started to snap and shatter with each fragment coated in her venom. Then with the flick of her hand, the bone mass turned into several dozen needles, which soared towards their target from every direction. The boy winced, raised his sword, but many of them slipped past his defences. And then he let out a blood curdling shout.

"Owch!"

Despite most of the bone needles hitting their mark, few of them managed to peirce his skin. After the attack, he pulled one of them out of his neck and examined it. "Was that it?"

Salbjörg groaned again, but this time she bared her teeth. "That was jussssst to ssssssssoften you up!"

Running in high heels is hard, but the upside to having ridiculously long legs is that you don’t have to move them that fast to cover a lot of distance. She stomped her way over to the boy, but he didn’t look as intimidated as he did a moment ago. His wooden sword came up just as she attempted to stomp him into the ground. But no matter how much she leaned into her foot, the child’s arms didn’t so much as buckle under the pressure. They just stared at each other with a steely gaze. Then with an annoyed sigh, the child shoved her and she tumbled onto her back. This damn, cold floor again. At least she had something warm to hold onto this time.

Actually, two things.

She rolled Zoppy onto the floor before lunging at the boy. She was able to grab a hold of his shirt and pull at him, but he wouldn’t budge from his spot. It was as if she was wrestling with a pillar, and was only capable of pulling herself around her target. The boy was starting to look more irritated than anything else as the giant snake woman climbed all over him. She tried to choke him out, dislocate his arm, but none of it was very effective. Eventually the boy pulled one of the bone needles out of his neck and thrust it between Salbjörg’s ribs.

"Graahhhhh!"

She immediately let go of the boy and fell to the ground. She rolled from side to side to try and dissipate the pain, and finally managed to pull the bone pin out of her torso. What was this boy? Was he the chosen one? Some long lost hero? He couldn’t have been normal. She didn’t have much more time to think about it before he swung his sword down at her. Sal managed to pull herself out of the way before it slammed into the ground. Even if it didn’t have much effect on the stone floor, Sal had an idea such an attack would have broken her leg. In fact, she was pretty sure that the simple stab wound she received shattered one of her ribs. At least she assumed that was why breathing and moving was painful now.

"Reinforcementssssss!" Salbjörg called out as she stumbled back the way she came. They just had to delay him long enough. Her poison would take care of him before long. Yes, she had done enough. The others could try pulling their weight now. She had practically finished him off for them.

…

Had she taken something into the last room with her? She couldn’t remember, but the dungeon was starting to feel a lot colder now that she didn’t have it…

And from the depths of the cave, the reinforcements came!

...it was one goblin. Pot-bellied, with thin arms and a strangely unblemished, arrow-straight nose. A clean loincloth covered up the small creature's unmentionables, and the way it sprang about was peculiarly disgusting, but on the other hand...

Danny the Hero was glad.

Honestly, he was still feeling kinda nervous about the whole dungeon thing. Sure, he had beaten the floating ghost (by just walking away from it) and that big snake lady that kept trying to hug him in weird ways (by making her run away), but those didn't count as victories. He heard from Big Rico that you grew stronger by killing monsters, not beating them! And while there was no way he could actually beat the flying dress man and he wasn't totally sure about actually having to bash the snake lady's skull in when her face looked kinda similar to Sister Lyria, a goblin? A goblin that just kept making weird goblin-ly noises that sounded both super stupid and inappropriately arrogant?

That, he could do.

Heck, there were two of them, even! He almost forgot about the baby goblin that the snake lady dropped! So did that make the other goblin their brother then? Their father? Was that why it was dancing around and shouting what were probably goblin slurs while occasionally flexing? Danny looked at the sleeping goblin with a face that somewhat reminded him of Mark's baby sister, feeling slightly conflicted. He could probably do it, right? His grip tightened on Excaliboard. He could definitely do it! The Hero of the Frontier would never hesitate! The only good goblin was one that never left their stinkin' hole!

"TAKE THIS! POWER SMASH!!"

"GOBO GOBO GOBO GRUHLIN! (Whoa whoa whoa STOP!)"

At three times the speed of sound, Zogi quit his Distraction Dance, which he had done solely to buy time for the proper reinforcements (octopus face and shadow-shrimp-with-hand-wings) to arrive, and tackled the hero right around the waist. Wood struck stone instead of Zoppy, eliciting only a vague grunt of approval from the grunt. Then, in typical goblin fashion, he bit the boy, as hard as he could!

Who knew what it did though. If a giant snake could hardly do anything, little ol' Zogi wasn't going to do any better. After the surprise round faded, the hero threw the goblin off of him, stomped his boot against his rotund body, and swung his wooden sword down in a mightily devastating blow, causing all 5000 GIQ worth of brain matter to splatter against the dungeon floor.

A flash of light shown from within the hero's body, as celestial trumpets blared out a cheery tune.

Muste did not mind that his suggestions for the Dungeon Spirit's name were rejected in favor of another one: it was an important part of any meeting to evaluate the best choice based on shared agreement. As the curiously adorable goblin made a scene, he couldn't help but smile underneath his mouth-concealing tendrils: she was like a daughter that an employee brought with them on "Bring Your Child To The Office Day".
The other goblin, on the other hand, was far more suited to his tastes: he seemed obedient, and eager to please. Yes, given the proper direction, he would make for a good lackey, he thought to himself.

Muste did, however perk up as the Oracle spoke, followed by the diminutive beast proclaiming herself as secretary. Now everything was clear: the wise monster that was reminiscent of the astral masters his kind often revered, was obviously upper management. He seriously pondered the number assigned to him, and came upon an epiphany. "Yes, three...Three dungeon entrances," he mused to himself as he began plans for development, and watched as the die was cast and the name was decided. "Kleine is a good name," he admitted with a lift of his facial tentacles, as if he was smiling. "It is short and easy to pronounce." He would have mentioned that it was also marketable, but he didn't work in the marketing department, so he wouldn't honestly know if that was the case. Not that the dungeon would need one anytime soon.

Muste's thoughts were interrupted as Kleine then announced that an adventurer had entered their dungeon: the first operational risk to the dungeon that he would have to note down later. Schnupfen did not seem to take it well, but nonetheless he was the first to confront the intruder. He was not as swift to take action, as he was not too keen to face off against a stronger opponent who could easily make calamari out of him. "I need to find a spell first!" he quickly spoke to the others, and began skimming rapidly through the pages of his spelltome, even as Salbjörg and Zogi ran off, and he strutted after in a strange mishmash of running and power walking, his cane tucked under his arm as he kept leafing through the pages. By the time Muste arrived, Salbjörg had already been wounded and was slithering past him, and Zogi had died. Muste was aghast, but not because of Zogi's death: he was but a goblin after all, and there would be more where the pathetic creature came from. Rather, he mourned how his delicious oblongata had been scattered all across the dirty tiles of the dungeon floor, no more fit for consumption.

Danny smiled as he felt his physical capability increase. Just like that, he had made his very first level, just like the old man at the village told him. If he kept this up, he would reach Legend tier in no time, and grab himself a harem full of cute girls! However, he felt as the poison kept eating away at him. But first, he had business to take care of, as he heard footsteps, and turned. He cringed upon seeing Muste as he cast a spell of some kind. Danny held his sword out in a defensive stance as he ran forward, but after the flash of light, there was no fireball or bolt of thunder. "Hah, stupid squid! I'mma-AH!" He suddenly yelled, as he lost his footing, and tripped, hitting his head on the floor. Turns out that Muste had cast Grease on the floor, and as the Hero was lifting himself up the illithid was already running back in the direction of the core, not far behind Salbjörg. "Incoming!" He yelled, his facial tentacles flaring out from the force of his shout.

“Excellent, I am sure Fate will smile upon us this day!” the Oracle declared as its choice among the selection was taken (not that there had been any doubt of course) only to give an “ack!” of distraught surprise as fate threw the first invader at them before they’d even gotten themselves organized.

“Ah. Well. It is only a lone youngster! Surely that will be no issue for you all?” It said after recovering, before turning to the more important matter, which was “I meanwhile shall see to it that we pick the right choice when it comes to pulling”

Naturally, this involved rolling a 1d4 with plenty of extravagance, and prayer of “oh hallowed Fate, bless us with your all knowing providence, and take mercy as you deliver unto your most humble servants thy graciously granted gifts, such that we might put them to service in thy name”

The result of this roll was a 4, meaning they’d be pulling the most blessedly random of pulls: the Basic Summoning. Given it was also a second max roll in a row, the Oracle saw fit to declare “most blessed are we!” before handing off responsibility to Kleine in terms of doing the actual pull “our fate is in your hands!”

It was only then that the Oracle turned its eye to the battle for the -insert dungeon name here- and, well, to say it was going poorly was an understatement. The Oracle was not best pleased, but it directed its ire at the responsible party rather than any of its team mates.

“Heathen! Murderer! You sully this place with your faithless steps, you spill the blood of its noble denizens! There is nothing here of value but the lives within, and yet you steal even those!” The Void Angel boomed as it floated past the retreating monsters, its full form only now becoming clear to the boy as it phased through the walls.

Said boy was rubbing his bonked head, and actually flinched at the sight of the eldritch being, before squinting at the corpse in its core, regaining his confidence and asking “What are you supposed to be? Some sort of headless pervert?”

The void angel was monetarily taken aback by this, before declared “I am the Oracle of -null pointer exception-”(again shunting to the flat monotone due to the lack of a dungeon name) “and I bring divine retribution!”

With intent declared, the Oracle gazed down the corridor, long straight, true, and unleashed the power of the sun. Photons, Uv Rays and Electromagnetic waves all lanced forth in a beam of cosmic power unleashed from its stellar eye. Unfortunately, functionally, that sun was very far away, and so rather than being cooked to a crisp, or even burned, the boy was instead subjected to a sunbeam of a warm summer's day that lapped against his skin. That would have been great for, say, acting as a sunlamp for Salbjörg, but with the boy it merely made him shield his eyes briefly as he was forced to adapt to the sudden change in luminosity.

The Oracle, despite this futile attack, still declared that the boy should “Wither beneath my gaze foolish intruder! Soon enough you shall fall”

“Yeah, right, you've all barely scratched me!” he shouted back, blinking the water from his eyes and then squinting in the face of the light.

“And scratch and scratch and scratch we shall, till death by a thousand cuts you suffer. A terrible fate, slow and painful it will be!” The Oracle retorted as it floated closer. Once close enough, it began shaking cupped hands, saying “I only pray that Fate can only lessen your suffering” before rolling forth its dice.

These clacked across the floor unassumingly, and thanks to the glare the boy didn’t see them coming till it was too late, and they had rolled a perfectly average 32. Holy light glowed, and then engulfed the boy for a moment, before dissipating, leaving him seemingly unarmed.

There was a monetary pause, before asked “What did you- hic- do…. Oh come -hic- on! What kind of -hic- curse is that!”

“Suffer!”

“Oh screw -hic- you” the boy yelled, before charging forward, sword held high.

“Come, face your doom!” the Oracle declared, very pleased that its plan had worked as intended, namely making the boy focus on him instead of the juicy bag of free EXP currently still napping in the room he was now vacating.

Of course, now it just needed to avoid becoming one itself.

It brought its eye down low, baiting the boy in to cleave right at that oh so obvious weak spot, which indeed he did, calling out a triumphant “hiya!” as the wooden blade went scything through the void angel’s membrane like it was tissue paper. The star, however, was untouched, for it was, of course, very far away. Worse (for the boy) almost as soon as the wound had been made fresh membrane grew out of the void to replace it.

Before that however, the Oracle brought its two massive hand wings down into a clapping blow on either side of the boy, doing a tiny amount of impact damage before its fingers attempted to wrap around him to bind him in place. This only really worked because he first tried to hack at the limbs, to the same amount of effect as he had had against the ‘head’

Soon enough he figured out the trick however, struggling and ripping apart the membrane with his own might rather than using his weapon, pushing forwards out of the angel’s grip and getting underneath it.

“I see -hic- the real you!” he shouted, before leaping to take a swipe at the corpse within the Oracle’s bulk. Weak though its membrane and limbs might have been, they offered just enough pushback that he fell short, the angel ascending to the ceiling, its prostrating weak spot's back pressed to the ceiling, now out of reach.

All this while, the beam focused on him, an annoyance slowly, slowly, slowly giving him a sunburn, though a little quicker now at this short range. Now, out of harm's way, it swung its pincer tail down to try and snip him, while preparing another handful of dice to bombard him with.

Enough was enough. The boy flipped his sword to hold in reverse, then hefted it back like a spear and hurled it up at the angel above. His aim would have been sure and true, and the angel might have met is end there and then, if not for one single thing

“-hic-”

That little jolt was all that was needed to ensure that instead of piercing into the corpse, the throw was off angle enough that it instead sliced a gash into its side, causing blood to leak out in clouds as if it was in water, or space, rather than in air. Despite the relatively lesser nature of this wound, the Oracle still unleashed an-unholy screech as it curled in on itself in pain, rendered unable to lend any more aid to the battle for the moment.

The sword, meanwhile, bounced off the ceiling, ricocheting at an angle such that it then landed back in the room where Zoppy was, causing the boy to glance from his dropped weapon to the assorted wounded monsters in indecision for a few vital moments.

When Zoppy finally awoke, she was greeted with the sight of a skeleton sitting on the floor in front of her. His boney form was clothed in tattered rags, not dissimilar to her own, but it was a glint from one of his fingers that quickly caught the drowsy goblin girl’s attention. “Shiny!” she cried in delight as her sparkling eyes stared intently at the gold ring on the skeleton’s finger. She needed to have it, but what could she sell him (or was it a her?) to get it? Frantically looking around her immediate vicinity, she gave a squeal of joy upon finding a misshapen pebble. Plucking it up, she cupped the small treasure in her hands and held it out to the skeleton. “Wanna gib Zoppy yer shiny fer diz lucky pebble?!” she asked with an eager, hopeful smile.

The skeleton was utterly motionless as Zoppy smiled up at it expectantly. It was, after all, a normal skeleton, and thus incapable of movement, at least, of its own, nonexistent accord. But then, through the subtle movements of continental drift, the millions of pounding locomotive appendages of marching armies on the far side of the world, the gravitational forces generated by the precise alignment of several dozen celestial bodies, or violent death of a galaxy cluster-sized eldritch horror in another universe at the hands of the Monarch of Mad Science, the smallest of vibrations caused the skeleton’s head to bow forward.

This was, of course, all the affirmation Zoppy required.

“Dankz!” she happily told the skeleton, before handing it the pebble and pulling the ring off its finger, which promptly crumbled to dust. “Zoppy’z first shiny!” the goblin cheered as she hugged the ring, overjoyed beyond measure.

Unfortunately, this was all just a dream. In reality, Zoppy was still sleeping, although by this point, her location had changed to the floor of a different dungeon chamber, one occupied by a brave young hero. Yet, while the hero was too focused on more threatening enemies to bother with a sleeping, malformed goblin, his latest attack on his latest opponent would have greater repercussions for Zoppy than boy or goblin could have foreseen. After ricocheting off the ceiling, the hero’s thrown sword bounced across the chamber floor, before lightly landing on Zoppy’s sleeping form. The impact (such as it was) proved forceful enough to finally awaken the slumbering goblin, who gave voice to a happy squeal upon seeing the wooden weapon.

“Choppy fing!” she exclaimed, hastily grabbing the sword. Then she noticed the boy. “Hi! Hi!” she called, giving him a big, toothy smile. “Ya wanna choppy fing?!” she asked, before noticing the plushie next to her. “Or a lucky bird?! Zoppy’ll gib ‘em ta ya fer some shiniez!”

Kleine quickly went to hide as the masters of the dungeon both foolishly and bravely went to fight. Though, she still watched with baited breath as she waited for any order.

The crystal creaked as energy coalesced. Waves of red light pulsed from the crystal. The first was weak. The second radiated with an ounce more strength. The third came stronger, yet did not seem nearly as strong as the light could be.

From the ether came small parcels of goods that were suddenly wrested from their origin and flung into the world. A bundle of herbs. A collected of wrought metals in ingot form. A stone. A small roll of good quality leather from an unknown beast. A large bone. A shining blue gem that radiated a magical cold. Then, a large lizard--only a few inches taller than the hero--spawned. With spear in hand and protected by bones and leathers, it gave a gargling cry of valor. Finally, two crystalline shards fell to the floor. Both were an inert yellow, but one had a faint glow.

It wasn't the best result. In fact, for the Oracle who had rolled the Basic Summoning, it could be considered as quite a disappointing result. Despite this, they now had some tools to fight back against the now unarmed hero.

---

New Materials:
1x 1* Herbs
2x 1* Metals
1x 1* Stone
1x 2* Leather
1x 1* Bone
1x 1* Mana Gem

New Units:
1x 2* Kobold Warrior

New Traps:
1x 2* Glue Trap
1x 1* Falling Rock

New Equipment:
1x 1* Wooden Sword

---

_____________________________________

. . . .Remember to call your governmental representative to force the publishing of gacha rates!

Salbjörg did not run far. Her intent was not to retreat, merely to pull away so that the others could do some of the heavy lifting. She might have been a powerful, beautiful monster, but that was all the more reason to share the work so that her perfect features didn’t get marred. Oh, and the broken rib made it hard to enjoy moving around. But she did come back to the threshold of the door and looked back inside with anyone who was nearby.

She only caught the tail end of Zogi’s dance, but it was enough time for her to remember what she had left in the other room. That’s right, it was the napping goblin. At least her choice to stay behind had bought Salbjörg the necessary time to escape. Then Zogi, perhaps feeling heroic for whatever reason, decided to dive on the boy just as the sword was coming for the little goblin girl. That was a good thing, but then why did he get trapped under the boy’s boot and obliterated like that? It seemed like the boy had gotten stronger because of his "sacrifice" too. How pointless.

But Muste was up next! Surely he had a brilliant idea to save the goblin girl. If they lost both goblins she would need to use the rats to stay warm, and that wasn't the most ideal. At least Zoppy looked cute if you swaddled her body in something. But after the squid man cast his spell, the only thing he managed to do was make the floor slippery before departing. The boy managed to hit his head, but so what? Her chest warmer was still in there and even harder to get to now!

Then the oracle hovered out there. Surely they would show these cowards and weaklings how it was done. His attacks didn’t seem particularly effective, but at least he didn’t run off like squid face after casting a single spell. More importantly, it seemed like he had cast some sort of suffocation spell on him, if his difficulty to speak was anything to go by. And he took so many attacks from the boy without as much as flinching. To top it all off, he disarmed him. Yes, Salbjörg understood now. She was looking at a ten. Certainly nothing below a nine.

And then… Was Zoppy seriously going to sell the boy’s weapon back to him?

This would not do.

While she was powerful enough to take what she needed by force, it wouldn’t hurt to play nice here. The less that goblin struggled, the better. The crystal in the other room had dropped off a few objects, which was yet another brilliant move on the Oracle’s part. The shiniest among them was a blue crystal, which Sal picked up without as much as a word. Of course it was cold to the touch, but that didn’t matter right now. She hurried back to the other room where the boy was drawing closer to the goblin girl.

"But -hic- that’s my -hic- sword…" He groaned.

"But... Diz iz Zoppy'z choppy fing!"

Salbjörg wasn’t about to let the boy regain his weapon, by force or any other means. The floor was still slick, so she got a running start and slid on her side. "Choppy thing!" She exclaimed before tossing the mana crystal to Zoppy. With the goblin’s greed sated, she picked up the sword as she slid by.

"Wa-hic-" The boy realized he didn’t have time to spare. He reached into the pouch at his side and pulled out a shiny river pebble. He had planned to show it to his sister back home, but he needed a weapon now. So he tossed it to the goblin before grabbing the lucky bird by the neck.

"Dankz!" she said before hugging her new shinyz.

The snake woman slid all the way to the wall before planting her feet on it. Opposite of her, she could see the boy had done the same. it Seemed they were about to engage in some good old fashioned jousting. It shouldn’t be too hard. He didn’t have any more of her bone needles to pluck her with, and his wooden sword had been reduced to a low quality plush toy. Which was probably still dangerous, but couldn’t have been as powerful as a wooden sword. R-right?

They both kicked off at the same time. Her arms were naturally longer than the boys, and so it was easy for her to swat his forehead before they got too close. He groaned and swung his lucky bird, but it missed entirely due to them both spinning out of control. They jousted like this a few times, but each time Salbjörg was able to score a hit on him without suffering any retaliation. She chuckled to herself before they jousted again. This time the boy parried the wooden blade with the soft body of the bird and slammed it into Salbjörg’s side. It probably wasn’t a super hard hit, but it was right where her rib had cracked and that didn’t feel very nice. For the next round of jousting, Salbjörg knew she needed to change her strategy. She really hard off the wall and swung her legs in front of herself. The boy tried to block with the soft bird toy, but her elevated heels easily stomped the toy into his face, and they both slid away from each other.

Unbeknown to Salbjörg, something had been laid behind her.

*SQUISH*

…

It appeared that Salbjörg had slipped into some sticky goo. Of course she had been focusing pretty intently on the boy, but why was this part of the floor sticky? Everything was so slick and slippery! And this spot was grippy? Oh, and it was all in her hair too! She had been sliding so fast that she managed to stick everything from her shoulders down to her legs. She had managed to throw out her arms to keep the back of her head off the floor, but now her arms were stuck too! She tried pulling and, while it would be possible for her to escape, her fractured rib was going to make this an agonizing experience.

The boy sighed. "This is -hic- boring. There’s gotta be -hic- something more interesting deeper -hic- in."

"Wait!" She called out. "You, um…"

"Y-hic-es?"

"You Um, you…"

"...-hic-?"

"You-"

In that instant, Salbjörg’s body was covered in a cloak of smoke. It didn’t take long to thin out, and when it did, the snake lady wasn’t there anymore. Instead there was a refined young lady. She had some of the traits of the weird snake lady, but she was human! Rather than being a giant, she was of average height, looked petite, and didn’t have any of the other menacing traits like her elongated pupils. She was even smiling.

"You saved me!" The woman smiled, and her perfect teeth somehow caught the diffused light of the dungeon and sparkled.

"I-hic-did?"

"Well yea!" Even her voice sounded chipper and energetic now. "I don’t know how, but whatever you slid me into over here seems to have cured me! I’m back to my old self!"

"Really!"

What a fool. "Yea! So you should use those big strong arms and pull me out now!"

"A-hic-nd?"

And? "Um, oh! You want a reward, huh?" She giggled. "Well, how about you pull me free. Aaaaaaand, I'll give you a kiss!" She cupped her lips and started smooching the air. All boys dreamed of becoming men, and what better way to show off your masculinity by kissing the fairest of the fair?

But the boy only groaned, turned away from her, and started to crawl towards the other room. "Girls -hic- are so gross." Salbjörg instantly reverted back to her true form and began thrashing in place, shouting obscenities. Between her speech impediment and the pain ripping up and down her side, she couldn’t form words that monster or human could understand.

Once the young marauder wriggled free of his attacker's clawing grasp, he pushed through the second illusory wall and deeper into the dungeon, now at roughly the halfway point. In his wake he left the seething Schnupfen, bitter and frustrated as he drifted up from the ground and dismissed the arms he no longer needed. While he'd ultimately failed to stop the adventurer, his objective had only ever been to delay him while the more combat-capable dungeon keepers rallied to the core's defense. So even if he'd only managed to buy the others a couple minutes, the small success soothed the burning mark left on his pride by the brat's incorrigible nonchalance. Though tempted to continue clawing at him, however, ineffectually, Schnupfen decided to hang back and keep watch while the others worked their magic.

Oh. Oh no. It quickly became apparent that the situation was even more dire than Schnupfen first predicted. When Salbjorg sallied forth to put a stop to the boy's incursion, she cut quite an imposing figure despite Zoppy's presence, but things took a turn for the worse right away when she inadvertently took much the same tact as Schnupfen when it came to intimidation. She couldn't have known, of course, but retreading the same ground really did undercut her efforts. When she launched an attack using venom-drenched bone splinters, the shadow's spirits rose, but only for a moment. Despite appearances the adventurer barely seemed harmed, and that was just the beginning. Salbjorg threw herself at the boy, and despite being much bigger and tougher-looking than him, he stood as an unflinching oak, nonplussed by the large woman's very best efforts. She then suffered the indignity of her own attack turned against her, and to much greater effect, and was forced to retreat while calling out for help. The whole time Schnupfen watched in astonishment, his newly-manifested jaw increasingly slack.

After that the others tried their luck in sequence. Zogi distracted the adventurer for a moment, only to die on his wooden blade in Zoppy's defense. Schnupfen could only slap a clawed hand to his head; even if Zogi couldn't achieve much, he was surely more of an asset than that pitiable wretch. Considering that his death powered his killer up, his sacrifice was absolutely a net negative overall. Muste stepped up to bat next, his move discreet and tactical. Maybe too discreet, in fact, since while Muste did manage to knock the boy down and not suffer any damage himself, his grease trap neither damaged nor stalled the would-be hero very much. Finally, the Oracle floated onto the scene. Visually speaking it very much resembled some kind of boss monster, a fitting last line of defense for the dungeon core, and to its credit it did do its job. Shrugging off blows thanks to its immaterial body, it kept the boy busy with bothersome curses and excessively warm light. Unfortunately, it wasn't too long before the enterprising lad figured out the Oracle's weakness and incapacitated it, leaving only Zoppy, Muste, and Kleine between Danny and the dungeon core.

By then, though, the summoning should've been complete. Schnupfen peered around the core chamber from afar, looking for newly-minted monsters and weapons, but he could see only one kobold outfitted with light armor and a basic polearm. Would that lizard be enough for the keepers to hang their hopes on? Before the team could find out, the wounded Salbjorg went back for more. For some reason both she and the intruder humored Zoppy, before launching into what could only be described as slip-and-slide jousting. Schupfen buried his face in his hands, stricken with second-hand embarrassment. The shahmaran's efforts had been pitiful before, but now they were just mortifying. "Ohh, this can't be happening." If anyone was going to do something about this hellion, it would have to be Schnupfen.

As quickly as he could, the shadow floated over, manifested four hands, and grabbed a rock from amongst the rubble by one of the walls. It was only about the size of a cantaloupe, and oblong in shape, though even that was hard enough for the shrimpy specter to lift and carry. By now, the adventurer had to be at least a little beat up. He'd gotten scratched, a stubbed toe, mildly poisoned by Salbjorg, mildly concussed after his grease-induced fall, hiccups, a sunburn, and jabbed with a high heel in the face. Even if the monsters were weak, a rock was a rock, and surely it would be enough to finish him? Or at least stun him long enough for everyone to enact a death by a thousand cuts. Unfortunately, Schnupfen couldn't float very fast with his rock, but Salbjorg had one final ace up her sleeve. This new ploy of hers was actually pretty clever, and even if the glamor didn't ultimately work, it gave Schnupfen the few moments he needed. As she reverted to normal and the adventurer began to crawl away, the shadow crossed directly over him and let his missile fall.

Stuff happened below, but the Oracle was far too busy looking at itself. Specifically, looking at its wound in order to treat it. The corpse, normally passive, was now animated enough to pinch the flesh of its sliced side shut while the Oracle used its eyebeam to sear the wound shut (it might have been ineffective the boy, but vs other low level monsters like itself? It worked just fine).

Its chorus of soft pained sounds ended when something floated up next to it, namely the snooted specter Schnupfen. The Oracle glanced at this, saw the rock the ghost had in hand, and then followed said rock’s descent as it plummeted down with the force of gravity and landed squarely on top of the crawling boy’s skull. There was a crack as it struck, followed by a second overlapping crack as the boy’s head then hit the stone floor.

The Oracle started at this for a few moments. Then, after the boy did not rise but instead simply lay their face first bleeding onto the stones, glanced around a few times before spotting the Kobold who had been summoned.

It thrust a finger out and, with a deep booming voice that made the minion leap back with fright, shouted “YOUUUUU!” at it before pointing down at the boy and much more calmly commanding it to “check if he’s dead”

The kobold gulped, before shakily saluting and then scampered over to carefully poke the boy’s body with his spear, keeping as much distance between itself and the boy as possible while doing so. The scene was somewhat reminiscent of a kid poking a possum with a stick to see if it was just playing dead, which, in the kobold’s defense, was basically what it had been asked to do.

The boy, unsurprisingly, did not move.

“More vigorously, the duplicitous pawn of the enemy might just be stunned!” the Oracle insisted, prompting some actual stabbing, and then, once that had no effect, the kobold getting its spear in place and, with a lot of effort, driving it down through the heart of the boy, staking him like a vampire.

At the sight of this, the Oracle tossed up its 4 hands in jubilation and announcing "Glorious news everyone! We’ve killed a child!” before clapping them together again and asking ”now, who requires the touch of my holy healing hands?”

Zoppy was overjoyed at finally getting her first, real, shiniez, and she hugged them tight against her emaciated, rag-covered chest. Yet, while she celebrated, a battle was taking place around her, the combatants moving with such swiftness that they were beginning to make poor Zoppy feel rather dizzy. Closing her eyes helped, but it also made the feeble goblin girl realize that she was still quite tired. But she also remembered that, in her dream, the skeleton in the other chamber had a gold ring that she was able to buy from it. Perhaps that was also the case here, in the waking world, and the be-ringed skeleton was just waiting against the wall of the other chamber for her to offer it a lucky pebble in exchange for its now unneeded accessory.

“Zoppy’z gonna git anover shiny!” she declared with an excited grin as she scrambled to her feet and across the chamber floor. However, the floor was exceptionally slick, causing the small goblin to slide across it, before crashing into the still-writhing form of Salbjorg. “Whaaa?!!” she yelped as her head crashed down onto the snake woman’s ample bosom. “Oh, wooow…” she marveled as she nuzzled her new pillow. “Yer reaaally comfy…” A moment later, the tired goblin was once again out like a blown lightbulb, her snoring joining Sal’s cacophony of infuriated curses and screams of indignant outrage.

Hopefully, someone would remove her before she started drooling…

Muste came to a stop, and turned to see if the adventurer had managed to follow after him, only to swipe his brow with a tentacle in relief. However, he then realized that the less desirable goblin had seemingly stayed in the chamber with the trespasser, and that Salbjörg went for one last charge to confront him. "It seems we need team-building exercises, myself included..." He pondered, noting the general chaos when they should have stayed as a single front.

Steeling himself, Muste followed after Oracle, his grimoire open in his arm and a purple glow gathering in his eyes: he decided he would need to use his trump card and decisively end the kid's incursion. He stepped through into the chamber, his tentacles outstretched.
"Mind Bla-aa?"

He blinked, as he comprehended the scene before him: the kid was dead, his head smashed in by a rock. And floating above him was Schnupfen: he immediately deduced what the ghost had done. He then gave an aside glance at Zoppy and Salbjörg, who were stuck in the glue trap, thanks to tripping on his own spell.

The Oracle cheered at their victory, but the illithid could only shake his head. He approached the serpentine monster and mutant goblin, and offered his cane to them to hold on as he pulled, as much as a spindly squidman at least could, to remove them from the trap. "Salbjörg needs treatment," he responded to Oracle's question. Afterwards, he went to examine the fresh corpse, and slurped what little remained of his brain: it was not much, but at that moment Muste finally felt some sense of accomplishment, as he sipped the gray matter like a cup of coffee. Once he was done, he stood back up.

"We should prepare for the next invasion," he then spoke matter-of-factly.