Inke the Tattoo Troll and his minions crept silently up the staircase from the subbasement, the second level of His Vanilla Master’s grand five-layer dungeon. Some of Inke’s minions walked with him—like the three Inkmages. Others he carried in his skin, ready to be deployed at any moment.

His Vanilla Master made it clear—Inke’s life didn’t mean squat, not compared to their mission of Vengeance, which at the same time, would save the multiverse from certain destruction.

Inke didn’t know how the two were linked, but he trusted His Vanilla Master completely. Why else would he have left a skeleton crew behind in his dungeon, the Parlours of Shading and Shadows? Yes, Kelly Ryan was there—everyone liked Kelly Ryan—but there were only a few other monsters there to guard Inke’s core gem in the inner sanctum.

The Tattoo Troll was relying on his secret weapon—the Full Body Blackout—in case anything bad happened in Weavelord’s dungeon. That Weavelord. What a traitor. Anyone who betrayed the Vanilla Master was bad, stupid, worthless. Inke had never liked the little mouthy drider. Did Weavelord deserve death? Ordinarily no. These were special circumstances, however, dramatic circumstances, with the fate of the universe hanging in the balance.

Naravvo, Zollie, and Chrizz walked behind Inke as they made their way down the hallway. Bats fluttered around them, and in back, the Little Nightmares, the tiny horses that made up most of Inke’s minion army, followed.

Inke’s strike team reached the end of the hallway when Weavelord finally gave them the entrance warning. The Spidercrat didn’t start with words, he started with office chatter, which filled the room, people talking, staplers pounding, papers shuffling, audio crystals ringing, beeps and boops from those old Electronic Abacuses that never worked. It got louder and louder.

Inke grinned. This was good sound design.

Then, one voice rose above the din. “Inke! This is your manager, David Sterling Copperblade, otherwise known as Weavelord. We don’t want to hurt you or your minions, but there’s a good chance that you have been brainwashed. If your mind has been taken over, snap out of it. If you have turned evil, get un-evil. Because this just won’t reflect poorly on your annual performance reveiw, you will wind up dead. We’re not joking around. And by we, I mean Audit Team Six. Welcome to the Soul Crusher. Now get out.”

Naravvo swept his hair out of half his face. “Whoa. Audit Team Six? They’ve broken cores before. And they’ve just saved two worlds. We need to be careful.”

Zollie popped his sucker out of his mustached mouth. “Hey, boss, did the Vanilla Master brainwash you? ‘Cause that would suck if you weren’t in your right mind.”

Chrizz shook his head. “No, man. Remember the Vengeance? We have to keep our eyes on the prize.”

Inke walked to the entryway of an obvious trap room—a T intersection with a passageway on the other side. Both ends of the hallway ended in blank walls. Weird tracks ran the length of the room up into the ceiling tiles on the right. This was an obvious trap room. Weavelord had those big silver balls, and Inke knew he was using them here, in some weird way.

That dumb Weavelord. Inke smacked his hand against the wall, creating an inky handprint, which leapt to life. He was able to get five hands out of the spell, and all five of his Five Finger Death Punches leapt to life. Instead of blank skin on their wrists, they had the all-seeing eyes tattooed there, giving them sight.

One scurried into the room like a spider made of fingers.

The first silver ball rolled down and crashed into the end of the hallway to the left. It was so loud! Dust hung in the air. That first FFDP was gone, completely splattered.

Naravvo went to rush across the hallway to get to the passage on the other side.

Inke grabbed the Inkmage. “No. Wait. Weavelord have many balls. That ball only first one. Watch.”

Another Five Finger Death Punch scurried out and a second ball rolled out of the ceiling. This time, the FFDP leapt out of the way, avoiding certain death. The second ball slammed into the first one.

Naravvo laughed nervously. “Thanks, boss. You know, Weavelord and Audit Team Six are totally screwed. They’re up against the best of the best of dungeon accountants. We know all the tricks.”

Inke sent another hand into the room and a third ball came crashing through. It struck the other two spheres with a huge clang.

The tattoo troll nodded. “Inke knew there would be three balls. Important to decorate in threes. So Barb say. It safe now.”

A few of the Little Nightmares neighed, including Leather Tuskadero, who was a horse in a leather harness with long, razor-sharp tusks. A few of the more notable horses were Princess Shadowspy, a black pony with huge black hooves, and Midnight Blue, who could disappear into the shadows. Painbow could not only throw rainbows into the eyes of her enemies, but she also had huge fangs to match her huge eyes, and as the most powerful of the Little Nightmares, she could also fly. Then there was Sparkle Pretty, a unicorn with a sparkle attack, and Rainslicker, who was covered in bright yellow raingear which acted as armor. They were all about the size of Shetworld ponies.

Just to be sure he was right, Inke sent the last two hand spiders into the room, and no more silver balls rolled down the track. He led the way across the trap room, and they came to an intersection. They could go left, or they could go straight.

To the left was a normal office building corridor. Straight ahead was a passageway carved into the solid rock.

Inke sent hands in both directions, to get a sense of what they were up against.

Inke could see through the all-seeing eye tattoos on his FFDPs. The hallway to the left led to some kind of storage room that housed all the electronic equipment. It looked deserted. Nothing moved. A door exited the room to the right.

Straight ahead through the rocky corridor was a natural cavern, with amor and weapons scattered about, and a great deal of coins laying around in piles. Well, at least there was treasure there.

Inke wasn’t going to risk fighting something he’d not faced before in the electronics room. That stuff was dangerous. No, the big natural cave, though it was big enough to house a large minion, was the safer bet. When dealing with dungeons, always go with the devil you knew, not the devil you didn’t. Surprises were deadly in the dungeon business.

“We go straight,” Inke said. “Maybe fight something big. But Inke have something big.”

Zollie grinned through his black moustache. “Cool! I love it when you use the full back tat!”

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Inke nodded. “Maybe we get treasure from this. Maybe not. Doesn’t matter. Only the Vengeance matters. And pleasing Our Vanilla Master!”

The Tattoo Troll and his minions entered the big cavern, and Inke sniffed. He smelled the wet carpet on the floor, the rusted armor, but he also caught the scent of a goat. A battle goat, to be exact. Helga Kneebash was here, somewhere.

Webs clung to the corner of the vast ceiling, while other parts of the rock were hidden by curtains of silk. Weavelord was a Spidercrat after all.

Inke was about to warn his minions about the possibility of arachnids when a roar filled the cave. From out of the darkness scurried a vast shape, glowing with fire, moving on eight legs, though it was shaped like a huge reptile with a long scaly tail and a huge head with a mouth full of fangs.

The spider dragon roared, spitting out webs, creating a webby platform for itself.

Inke had any number of weapons tattooed on his skin. He chose a bow and knocked a tattoo arrow taken from his own skin. He currently had three-dozen arrow tattoos in various nooks and crannies.

Weavelord’s voice rose above the roaring spider dragon hanging from the webs. “Leave now! Or better yet, join our side! You’re still an employee of the Department of Universal Dungeon Efficiency and let me remind you of your contractual obligations. Did you learn nothing at your compliance training back in October?”

Inke had been a bit intimated by the spider dragon. However, a new rage filled him. “Corporate training? Inke hate corporate training! For the Vengeance!”

All the Inkmages lifted their fists. “For the Vengeance!”

Inke fired an arrow into the spider dragon. Which vanished completely.

That’s when Helga’s battle cry filled the room. She came rushing out of nowhere, firing her musket. A bullet went right through Chrizz’s head, and he lost his life, returning to Inke’s thigh. He couldn’t be summoned for another day.

Helga then came riding over and drove her musket’s bayonet through Inke’s leg before dropping the weapon and whipping out her huge crowbar. She went to bash Zollie, but Rainslicker burst forward and caught the blow on his magical pony raingear.

Helga went riding away, disappearing into the darkness.

Calcannis Illudere emerged from the shadows and walked into the center of the room to stand on the wet carpet. The elven accountant was taller, more handsome, with a billowing black cloak. Was he six inches taller? Was power crackling around his hands? Inke had never taken the dorky guy seriously, and yet, he was standing there like an avenging angel. His voice boomed out, confident and intimidating. “Inke. Listen. We don’t want to hurt you. Helga could’ve killed your guardian form, but she didn’t. We’re on the same side here.”

Inke shot an arrow through the heroic elf sorcerer, and it went through him. Was that protective phase magic or was it an illusion?

Inke knocked another arrow, but not before Helga returned, charging ahead on her battle goat. His Vanilla Master had done some studying on the barbarian interior decorator, and so Inke knew her basic abilities. Battle Fury, Destructive Charge, and...

Intimidating Roar! Helga let out a scream that shook the room. Several suits of armor collapsed.

Inke’s Little Nightmares and the last two remaining Inkmages staggered backward, full of terror. The Tattoo Troll wore his cool potpourri pendant, and so the pleasant smells soothed him. He wasn’t afraid.

Inke took an Aldaleeran rhinoceros that was tattooed on his butt and threw the horned beast directly at Helga.

The battle goat leapt over the huge ink animal, and when her hooves hit the wet carpet, the halfling barbarian smashed in the rhino’s head with her crowbar.

Calcannis hit them with a lightning spell, which crackled around them, scaring his already frightened Little Nightmares. They went dashing off deeper into the room.

The Inkmages responded, hurling their ink bombs, which did two things—caused damage and caused blindness. There was pain there as well. As every human canvas knew, pain was a part of the tattoo deal.

Inke didn’t want his ponies hurt. He shot an arrow into Helga’s back, but it bounced off the Llama Wool vest covering her chainmail.

“After her!” Inke yelled at his bats and his four remaining hands. They went scurrying through the cave, triggering traps. Running by a suit of armor, spears jutted out. The bats and hands flew around the lances.

When the Little Nightmares rushed past, a whole pile of helmets went crashing down, swamping them in a sea of helmets.

Helga turned and bashed through Princess Shadowspy, returning her to Inke’s body.

The tattoo trolls had to take out that halfling barbarian.

Naravvo and Zollie had the same idea. They threw debuff tattoos—a snail tattoo (full color, new school) and a classic rose, (black and gray, neo-traditional). The rose hit the carpet, smearing itself into oblivion. However, the new school snail struck Helga on her neck, and she fell off Hurricane and onto the carpet.

The halfling tried to get to her feet, but she was moving at a quarter of her normal speed. Her mouth opened in a surprised cry. That took some time.

Inke knocked an arrow and fired, but Hurricane leapt into the air. The shaft bounced off her Spirit Llama coat. Inke had been on Tittikaka and knew how powerful that wool was.

Meanwhile, Cal ran to stand there, hands above his head, crackling with lightning. “You shall not pass! Feel my power!”

Inke squinted. The elf’s mouth didn’t match his words. “Syncing issues! This isn’t a real elf. That not real lightning. All illusion!”

The bats and the FFDPs rushed to the side, and behind a big armoire full of rusted armor, they found the real Calcannis Illudere.

Cal had this staff, and there were flashes of red, as he used it to bat bats out of the air and practice his golf swing on the finger hands. The homely elf then let out a shriek, turned, and ran toward the back of the cave, where he pushed open the rock. “Kronke! Helga has been slowed! We need you!”

Inke grinned. “Dumbhead! That secret door! Inke not find secret door! Now Inke knows. And if Kronke come. Kronke die. No matter how pretty his face is.”

The Little Nightmares rushed through the body of the fake elf, and Tuskadero lowered his head as he prepared to meet Hurricane.

Horse head met goat head and both animals went flying.

However, the other Little Nightmares stormed in, Sparkle Pretty shooting off damaging sparks from the tip of her horn.

The other horses hit the carpet, and then they fell into a pit trap full of swords.

Inke rushed forward, pulling his lariat off his right calf, to pull the survivors out. His Inkmages continued to throw ink bombs and debuff tats.

Kronke then came flying in, but he wasn’t pretty, no, he had the face of death, his body shriveled into a skeleton, with a pink cloak fluttering around him. He raised his pink bejeweled scythe with the ironically happy words on it.

His Vanilla Mistress had warned Inke and the rest of the AT1 about Kronke as well, but this handsome hunk of a troll had new powers that defied all reason.

Kronke flew in with a storm of paper following him, whipping the cyclone of old TAP reports around the cave. Yes, some were from the worlds that the of the AT1 had audited. Inke knew these had come from the old records marked for incineration. He vaguely remembered carrying them down because His Vanilla Master had ordered him to.

The papers confused the Inkmages and the Little Nightmares, but completely swept away the metal-mouthed bats and tossed them against the wall. Inke had a direct line of flight right up to Inke. The pink cloaked death paladin soared close, and suddenly, the Tattoo Troll was smelling chocolate cake baking, and yes, maybe even the sweet scent of frosting in a mixing bowl. It smelled so good!

Should he stay loyal to His Vanilla Master? She was asking him to do terrible things.

He then caught the scent of his pendant. Of course, he should stay loyal. He concentrated on the warm potpourri and not the baking odors.

Kronke flew away, snatching up Helga in a flutter of that pink cloak.

Zollie wiped page three of a TAP report off his face, and then hurled a dunce cap debuff tattoo. The spell hit Kronke, and suddenly the outline of a dunce cap appeared on the skin of the troll paladin’s horrific skull. He wasn’t so pretty now. And he was now far more stupid. The pretty boy paladin might even forget how to breathe.

For now, Kronke was flying out of the cave with the halfling in her arms. Cal followed them, with the battle goat scurrying after them.

Inke fired one last arrow, and it struck the goat in the leg, but he kept on running.

Inke thought about pulling out his full back tat. Or maybe summoning his Full Body Blackout. No, it wasn’t the time. He wanted to save what ponies he could, and he’d already lost some vital members of his party.

Naravvo agreed.

Zollie motioned with his lollipop. “Hey, Inke, how did you like our debuff throws? Two of them guys aren’t worth a hill of beans.”

Inke frowned at he looked down at the bottom of the pit. Only three of his Little Nightmares remained. However, Zollie wasn’t wrong.

Team Six had lost their two best soldiers.

And if Weavelord thought that some weak elven illusionist and some sarcastic thief engineer would protect him, he had another thing coming.

Inke would kill them, kill them all, for the glory of His Vanilla Master and the Vengeance. All had to die in service to his righteous cause.