Alistair’s stare briefly went down to the obsidian dagger at his feet. It was his only weapon and walking away from it was a bad idea. “Now, Now! Don’t be thinking any bad thoughts! I will let this arrow fly a lot faster than you can go for that dagger. Now come along dearly, we can sit down and have a long chat.” With one last look at the dagger, Alistair started moving forward to the rotting wood entrance of the Sod Hut. Herma for her part started backing up into the hut until she seemed to disappear into the darkness. Alistair went in and the darkness receded as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. Herma had sat down at a small table on a simple stool. The table had two throwing daggers on it. Alistair started to head over to the other stool and a flash of light stopping with a dagger at the location of his next step ended that thought. “Nah, Alistair why don’t you find a seat over there in the corner till we get to know one another better.” Herma said.

Alistair looked around at the small hut surprised to see an old loot chest, several large tapestries rolled up, and even what looked like small casks. Rolling a small cask a few feet from the wall, Alistair sat down feeling like a child waiting for a lecture from an adult. Thinking that Herma wanted to ask questions, he sat in silence seeing her toy with the other knife on the table. Finally, as the silence dragged on Alistair began to feel the pressure to fill the air with words. Saying the first thing that came to his mind. Alistair spoke, “So Herma, you are extremely fast for someone your age? How did you get to be so good with those daggers?”

Herma laughed with a wet kind of noise that said it would turn to coughing soon. Instead of answering him, she snapped her fingers and blue light emitted from her body. Light sparkled and flashed adjusting the appearance of Herma from an old wrinkled woman, to a young athletic lady. Herma appeared with long black straight hair, her face now had high cheek bones instead of wrinkles that had lost their definition with age. Even her right milky eye change black to brown. The light continued down changing her clothes into a tighter fitting wool wrap that seemed to speak of beauty but a freedom of movement that would not hinder her in a fight. “You must be a very young traveler indeed to think that appearance tells you anything. I choose to wear my death form, because I have lived long enough to be rid of such… prideful needs.”

Still Alistair grew in confusion thinking about what Herma had just said and what she had just done. “Hmmm, still don’t understand?” Herma said. “Well young traveler, I am a soul that God Salurin forced me to be a mana monster. While, I have my soul and thoughts live on this plane, my body is working and performing tasks down in the destroyed dungeon.” Alistair sat with his mouth slightly opened at what Herma had just said. Alistair remembered his conversation with Salurin the God of Rebirth, and how he had almost become a Mana Monster himself.

Alistair wasn’t sure where to start, but Herma must have some answers about pocket dimensions and dungeons. “Herma, that’s incredible. When Salurin judge me, he said I would have to be a dungeon demon for 1000 years when...” Alistair stop talking. As soon as he had mentioned that he was a Dungeon Demon, Herma had jumped out of her seat in a flash and was across the room pulling on his hair to expose his throat. She held a dagger point pressed against his the vein in his neck, his heart beat forcing the point of the dagger to slightly cut the skin. Herma’s expression was not hard to read. Her face was twisted in violence and anger, and Alistair stayed absolutely still afraid to talk as the dagger was likely to open up his vein and he would bleed to death.

Herma with her face still twisted, stared Alistair in his eyes. It was like she was weighing his very soul and whether or not she should kill him. “I am going to back off the dagger at your throat and then I want you to explain what you are doing here. If I think you are lying or are here for ill intent I will make your death last long and be very painful.” Slowly, the pressured of the dagger eased on his throat, and Alistair could swallow once again without worrying if all his blood would appear on the floor.

“My dungeon just researched Trade and a pathway from my pocket dimension opened up. My spell construct was afraid, so I went looking down the path and came across a road. I stumbled across the stump of a signpost and slowly worked my way down the path. I had no idea it would lead to a destroyed dungeon or that you would be here.” Alistair tried to come up with some kind of answer that wouldn’t sound like he was an idiot that stumbled down a dangerous path. The dagger came up pressing against his neck, and he started breathing quickly at the thought of his impending murder. He wasn’t sure what would happen if someone killed his thoughts and soul on this plane, but it couldn’t be good.

Slowly, Herma released Alistair’s hair and removed the dagger from his throat. Shaking her head she spoke, “You are a stupid demon to have tried what you did. The blue mana mist that covers the pathway is slowly dissolving path and this pocket dimension. The only reason why it hasn’t done so already is that I am working the dungeon to keep it alive. Of course, the more my body does to gather mana and keep this pocket dimension from collapsing, the stronger my bonds to this place become.”

“I choose to believe you, because only a very young dungeon demon would tell a Mana Monster they are one, and from the look of confusion on your face you still have no idea why. Alistair, I am a soul trapped to a Mana Monster. You are a Demon that can summon Mana Monsters after they defeat them. Dungeon Demons raid other dungeons killing monsters so that they can summon them. If one of those monsters happen to have a soul attached to them, then they become their slaves. I use the word, slave, as they have no other choice but to serve the demon and his pocket dimension after their demon and dungeon is killed. Now, some demons allow their monsters to serve their time and leave without ever asking them to do anything. Other demons decided that we are nothing more than personal property and do what they like to us.” Herma had walked back to her stool and table to sit down. A thought kept going around and around in his mind, how was Herma still here?

As Herma sat down and looked at Alistair a small smile came to her lips, “My master was Hardune. Weasel of a man and it translated to his demon personality as well. See Hardune had several previous dungeons that he had started, but lost for various reasons. As such he choose to make a new one at an old Plains Ziggurat, as fates would have it my first incarnation as a Mana Monster was in the very same place. So Hardune set out conqueror the dungeon, he had knowledge and quickly established monsters, spells, runes, and even began creating loot. You probably don’t know, but in order to start a second level you must transform and take over all mana monsters on the first. Hardune was good, I was swarmed by dozens of creatures and died quickly. Since Hardune was directing them, he captured my essence, and I became enslaved to him. Happily, he wasn’t a lustful creature, all he wanted was mana. So he sent me to work on the Ziggarut, refining mana and battling stronger creatures for him. He helped evolve my form several times and put prize loot on me.”

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“You have to understand, Alistair, I didn’t mind the work, but Hardune never allowed me to stop and rest. He could have designated me as level boss, and as such I would have been killed by adventurers and then reincarnated again. Instead, he designated me as a roaming boss, to constantly attack and build the next level.” Herma paused in her story, and Alistair realized that the information she was giving him was amazing. He would have never known that he could have evolved a creature and kept it from being a level boss. Of course, he didn’t want to do that to another person, but perhaps one of his Tiny Fire Salamanders. Herma pulled out a golden dungeon coin that gave a soft glow. Alistair knew somehow this was different then the coins he made, but not just in metal. Something about the coin screamed that it had a spell in it.

“My life changed one day when this beauty was placed in the loot table. See, Hardune had reached level 80 in his dungeon and had several souls attached to mana monsters constantly battling adventurers. However it wasn’t enough, his greed demanded more and faster. So instead of growing slow and building tough monsters, he decided to raid another dungeon. So he talked with his spell constructs and they figured out that loot could carry spells around the world, just as workers could do so in the dungeon. They cast Summoning Circles into Dungeon Coins, and eventually a group of Adventurers left our dungeon to go to another one with a Golden Dungeon Coins in their pockets. Well eventually one of these Adventurers dies in a Dungeon, just as Hardune had hoped. The Summoning Circle appears on the first floor of the Dungeon and Hardune starts his attack.” Herma seemed to grow distant as if the ghosts of the past came in this room and started talking.

“I was in the vanguard. Hardune had summoned me first to start killing the floor’s mana monsters. It was easy. They were weak and pathetic and my body was a constant blur of motion. My mouths devouring the creatures like they were snacks. My tail struck delivering deadly posion. Level after level, I was able to conqueror and destroy their monsters. We were just about to go past level 30 when I paralyzed by a trap. Mystical mana chains bound my body and forced my body to the ground. Hardune’s workers came to me, carrying counter spells with them, but all it was able to do was allow me to stand and move about the room. I was stuck and out of the fight. Soon, no more of Hardune’s monsters were coming to my aid. Now levels were beginning to repopulate with creatures that we had already vanquished. The repopulation could only mean that we had been pushed back to the upper levels. Monster’s attacked me in the room, and if I hadn’t had such a thick hide or the dungeon hadn’t been focus on attacking Hardune’s main force I would have died.”

“Instead, Hardune’s dungeon was taken over and the last level Summoning Circle was conquered. When that happens a portal is opened from the summoning circle to the pocket dimension and they can come in and ransack the place. Additionally, when a pocket dimension is destroyed, it sucks up all the monster mana and free mana it can, trying to repair the damage. I felt my body being torn apart for mana, then my soul drifted back through the Aether to here. When I awoke, the town had been destroyed, souls had been captured and Hardune’s dungeon had been left to crumble. I had to comb through the destroyed buildings and my friends’ homes to find small threads of mana that had gone unseen. I gathered them and summoned my body in one of the broken circles. Slowly, I went back to work gathering mana, killing any mortal that came into the Ziggurat. The problem was that I was just a Mana Monster and couldn’t use the spells that had been left behind. That didn’t stop travelers, like yourself, from coming to this destroyed pocket dimension and stealing whatever they wanted. The first time it occurred, I allowed the men to kill me hoping I would appear somewhere else. Sadly, I appeared back here with less supplies and tools then before. More raids came, this time I fought them, each time losing more and more, until there was so little left that no one cared to attack anymore.”

Herma starting spinning the coin on the table, finally she muttered one last phrase. “Hardune, built the tools of his own demise.”

Alistair quietly waited as the coin kept spinning on the table top. He was going over Herma’s story in his mind and picking out the knowledge for his dungeon. “So travelers can attack a town through the pathway?”

Herma snorted, “Aye, Alistair, that is considered the polite way of doing things. Usually, a group of traders will come and see your town. When they do they assess how rich it is and how well defended. If the answer is that its more favorable to attack then keep up trading. They go back to their town and get a raiding party together to attack. After all, in time the town will repair itself and be ready for raiding again. Killing people and spell constructs here in the plane of thought, just sends their souls out to the Aether to drift back down and start again. In fact, there is a big raiding town on this branch of road, they are the ones that have attacked me three or four times.”

Alistair just stared at his hand for a long time. What had he done by researching trade? He needed it to summon the Salamanders, which let him protect himself from the Elemental. Yet Herma, sounded like he needed to expand his dungeon first and take over the level without a boss. Clenching his fists, he began to feel like the world was punishing him again. The faster he seemed to go, the more danger he brought on himself. “Is there anything I can do against them?”

Herma nodded and smiled. A blue quest prompt appeared in front of Alistair.

Quest of Vengeance for Hardune’s Ziggurat!Recommended RankB+Main Objective:Build up your strength in your Dungeon and Town until you can finally take vengeance on the town that had raided Herma’s home.Objective I:Recommended RankF to CIn order for you to become stronger, Herma will offer you a dungeon coin with a summoning circle to her destroyed dungeon. Fight through the destroyed levels claiming Wild Mana Monsters, spells, traps, and loot. Find Herma and kill her body. Based on your treatment of her, it will determine what additional help you will receive for Objective II.Items being offered to help with Objective I:Golden Dungeon CoinSpell: HealingSpell: +1 DefenseRune: HoAccept Quest?YesNo