Schnupfen wasn't undead, not technically, since he had never once been truly alive and had entered this world in his current, morbid state. Did that stop him from nearly having a heart attack when the post-clobber paladin rounded on him for a righteous, wrathful cast of Turn Undead? Not one bit. The shadow let out a deeply unflattering noise somewhere between a scream and a gurgle as he preemptively splattered himself against the ceiling, as two-dimensional as if some divine being had smote Schnupfen with a giant fly swatter.

Fortunately, no obliteration came to pass. Schnupfen was too busy being paralyzed by terror to observe exactly how the paladin died, but when he finally came to his senses and his bulging eyes beheld the adventurer's limp corpse, he let out a sigh of relief and dripped down from the ceiling like melted butter. A weary look around through half a dozen half-lidded peepers confirmed no signs of life from the invading force, so it looked like the dungeon keepers had successfully defended their home yet again.

Of course, Schnupfen could only be so happy about that.

"That was too close," he muttered breathlessly with a rueful shake of his head, his massive nose flipping from side to side like a boat's rudder. After what happened the first time the dungeon received an uninvited guest, he'd practically obsessed over making the place better prepared for the next invasion, only for the next marauders to scale up even more. And to think they were still little more than kids playing hero, equipped with meager arms, armor, and intellects. What would happen if actual adventurers showed up? Schnupfen and the others needed to get ahead of the curve...but how? "Got to do better," the shadow told himself, wandering around the dungeon. "Got to do better..."

He wound up in the vicinity of his beloved pitfall trap, where Kleine loitered around the empty treasure chest. He bristled when the spirit looked his way, paranoid (and guilty) enough to imagine all the accusations she might levy his way before she could say a word. "It's not my fault they showed up right in the middle of preparations!" he whined. "Now that they know we've got trapped chests, it'll be that much harder to fool those fools again...curse those [i]cheaters'[/i] profane revival arts, allowing them to live and learn from fatal mistakes!" The paint hadn't even dried on the dungeon keepers' current setup, and they would now have to reorganize everything in order to keep getting kills.

Schnupfen glance over his shoulder, back toward the dungeon heart. After their win, the defenders ought to be able to summon again. They needed some new toys to play with, and perhaps more than anything, some means of production to keep the dungeon expanding in between raids.