Viv stares at her scry spell, “I just can’t get over, ‘Welcome to Avalon?’... Will we try to push fries with each piece of loot?”

Arthur’s golden orb tilts, “I don’t understand the problem, and what are fries?”

“Just leave it blank,” she flops back into the pool and floats on her back, “or at least make it more cryptic.”

“I thought our goal was to lure people in?”

“Damn it, now I miss tacos,” she splashes some water up at the core, “Yes, but this sounds like a greeting from a village inn keeper.”

“Ah, I suppose you’re right,” the grand magical golden orb just floats in place and rotates, “How about; ‘come challengers, test your might…’ or something like that?”

“No, no...let's just wait till one of us actually comes up with something good.” her feet flutter her around the core room pool, “Have I covered any asian mythos yet?”

“That doesn’t sound familiar, but I’m good to leave this as is then?”

“I said leave it blank!” She sits up treading water and prepares to splash him again.

“Wait!”

A moment passes, Viv arches a brow, “What?”

The king sighs, his core lowering nearly to the water surface, “It was just one of the wisps with an owl.”

This wasn’t quite the plan, really. From the moment they started, someone could have entered at any time. Now a month has passed and Arthur can’t really begin a new floor or do much more than fine tune his current one. Not without that final push of power that would be granted by defeating an intruder. His own limits and the rules of this world demand it.

That's not to say there aren’t improvements. Wooden finishings are abound from doors and shingles to loot chests. Which means a decent pile of iron sand is also stashed in a hollow behind the chapel alongside a few other mineral piles. Arthur had other ideas but most needed that next degree of magic to accomplish. Also the dungeon entry is now a full blown tower rather than grim garden feature, complete with a charming stone bridge.

The last annoyance Arthur has with his first floor is glass. He has sand for days but nothing and no one to melt it with. So the chapel and tower windows are all still paneless.

Any and all natural critters or plants from the surrounding lake shore have been sampled. Now it’s just lessons and tinkering with small crafts. Like the chess pieces Arthur is making, a set from every material he collects. Once he makes it personally the first time, he can create as many copies as he has material and magic.

Whilst Arthur is attempting a combination copper and quartz chess knight, “You know I don’t think you ever clarified if you’ve Merlin’s soul stashed away. I’m thinking of making a graveyard for my next floor you know. He’ll need a fine mausoleum.”

The Lady pauses playing checkers with Victoria the squirrel queen, “He’s not dead. Faked it a few times, but nope. No clue where he ended up either.”

Arthur's knight snaps, “Why do I feel cheated?”

“You should!” she snorts while taking a piece from the scowling squirrel. “Someone is a sore loser.”

“I beg your pardon?” The orb spins in agitation.

“Not you Arthur.” Viv sticks her tongue out at Vicky, “You lost everything you ever loved and the man who started it all just disappeared.”

While the orb actually hits the water, his senses pick up something approaching the entrance.

He grumbles, “Probably just another squirrel that thinks it discovered walnuts. At least the flying badgers still bring me new birds occasionally.”

It's the piercing squeal that snaps him up and back to full focus, “There's a boar at the door!”

The creature bolts in and fumbles on the step before crashing it’s way down. It lies still at the base of the stairs, but both Arthur and Viv are more keen on the arrow standing up from its side. Shaft slightly crooked, the fletchings black of crows.

Viviane returns to the core room, “Incoming Goblins!”

A tense three minutes as both core and goddess, stare at the bridge to the entrance. Then a howl, figures appear from the treeline. Four black wolves, each malnourished and mangey, and each with a rider.

Leading the hunting party is a lean figure probably near five feet tall. His muscles like bowstrings across his mottled green, bare chest, a spear in his clawed hand. His legs wrapped in ragged pants swing off the wolf.

Another bare chest male steps forward, this one only three feet tall, his ribs showing. The leader points to the blood trail and then the bridge before kicking the second one forward. It barely keeps it’s club in hand.

The last two, one male and one female snicker. Arthur is surprised the female has the decency to cover her chest.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“Obviously the more intelligent sex,” Viv points at the last male, “That one has the bow. I don’t see a weapon on the girl.”

Arthur’s orb does a roll, “What are the chances she can use magic?”

Her scry circles them. The female has a satchel on her back with bits of herbs poking out and a twisted looking branch. It has carvings of scales and is adorned with black feathers.

“Looks like the sort of things magic wielders would collect,” His voice goes up a slight pitch, “Hey I thought goblins were knee high little buggers that snuck in homes at night or pestered farm animals. Not these green men that live in clans by your word.”

Viv looks confused for a moment, “Oh right! So remember I told you this is a sort of mirror world of Earth? Well time isn’t a factor in that. Creatures’ forms in this world are based on the strongest point of consensus at any time on earth.”

“So at some point in time, most of Earth believed this to be how goblins look?” He watches the smaller minion poke its head into the stairwell, “This has to do with those movies you went on about doesn’t it?”

She nods, “Exactly, hence these taller, greener goblins.” a giggle escapes her lips, “Remind me to show you what the consensus of gnomes led to once I’m strong enough to scry farther.”

The little one runs back to report.

“I do feel it is a shame however.” Her spell scrutinizing the leader, “Hobgoblins should by rights fall under my divinity… they met yet still actually.”

“How so?” They all cross the bridge and they debate going down.

With a huff, “They were once called fae, and I am yet a fae queen.”

One by one they carefully circle down the entrance, the runt in front.

Viv actually snorts, “Let's name them! The minion is Bait, and the girl...Mini Morgan.”

Arthur wistfully recalls drinking with his knights of the round, “The leader is Red Knight and the archer, Tristan Jr.”

“Awe, I’d have gone with Robin for the archer.” she looks towards the first floor beyond the stone, “We need popcorn. Damn, that's from the Americas.”

His core rolls in annoyance, “Alright enough random names like this ‘Americas,’ but why Robin.”

“Shh, You’ll meet him later. They’re down!” She dashes off to the pond shoreline where Sibyl lounges and calls over Victoria.

The other three join Bait in slack jawed hesitation just outside the stairwell. Tristan Jr. Taps the nearest fern to make sure it’s real.

Red Knight, “Go.” and kicks bait forward once more.

Apparently they speak. Mini Morgan takes out her twisty branch and sniffs at the air, “Magic, it’s everywhere.”

One frightening aspect of the entrance, the fog is thick enough that you can’t see the maze start until you start walking out. Furthermore the entrance clearing is the same size as the more deadly maze clearings. So even if you find the entrance again, you can’t be sure it’s safe without walking far enough that anything that might have attacked, would.

Junior, Mini, and Red lose sight of Bait. Red barks out, “Come back!”

Reunited they set off together this time. Junior keeps his senses peeled and eyes up while Mini waves her stick at anything suspicious. Not that she needs to yet, the giant wall of thorns is a bit of a give away.

Red grunts, “Move, walls protect, which means loot.”

Arthur actually can’t fault the logic. Victoria and Viv are bickering over the lady tossing a sack worth of acorns into a clay oven near the hotspring. Sibyl put in a couple perch.

The gob squad reaches the first branch in the maze, and sad to say today it goes six ways. Down the leftmost path one of the wisps mimics the boar’s squeal.

Seems reason enough, the squad heads that way. Arthur wonders at the cleverness of his creations. Their chosen path in fact just curls back in a spiral that fills that corner of the cave.

When the intruders once more show caution at the clearing dead end, the wisp squeals again. A boar sized figure ambles just beyond in the fog. Red Knight stands tall, spear forward at ready. With a roll of his shoulders he stalks forward, team just behind.

Bait nervously watches the rear, he spots movement, a swirl in the fog. He yelps causing the rest to flinch.

Junior swats him with an arrow and whispers, “Shut it.”

They reach a mossy standing stone beside a large puddle of water. No sight of their prey when Bait screams once more.

Three turn to yell at him only to see a four foot tall hedgehog charging from whence they came!

While they scatter out of the way, Sibyl cheers into the scrying spell, “Get them Quiffles!”

Bait drops his club and scampers up the standing stone, knocking Junior into the mud puddle along the way. Mini runs around the stone and hunches down, hiding and chanting.

Red Actually plants his spear, bracing for the rampaging hedgehog. He has to abort, Quiffles dives forward and begins to roll like a ball. An angry ball of quills.

Viviane laughs and half chokes on a roasted acorn, “Arthur, you can’t turn him blue! We’ll get a copyright strike!”

Quiffles rolls onward into the stone causing it to wobble in the muddy ground. It begins to fall and Mini has to dive aside without finishing whatever spell she had.

Bait is face down in the mud, first to fall victim as the voracious, oversized omnivore pounces. Quiffles bites the goblin twice in the back and clawes one leg to shreds.

First Blood to Quiffles the Hedgehog!

An arrow sinks into his soft side. Sibyl screams, “My baby!”

Spear point stabs the other side. Reflex forces the hedgehog to curl up defensively. Red Knight continues to jab while Junior strafes over to him and looks for a shot. Mini finishes a spell and a red cloud of down feathers bursts against Quiffles.

Uncurling, eyes glowing red with rage, he howls...well, chirps aggressively.

Junior’s arrow flies, just hitting the mark. Quiffles’ right eye. The defender thrashes about maddly.

Red throws his spear, and with a wet sounding thud it impales the neck. The beast slows, struggling to breath, the red fades from his remaining eye. Stepping forward, the hobgoblin takes his spear and finishes Quiffles with a twist of the wrist.

One invader for one defender. Sibyl is a sobbing mess while Vicky pushes a few more acorns to The Lady of the Lake with a sour expression.

Viv comments while chomping another acorn, “I know porcupines quills can actually detach, and with a longer tail he might defend his sides better while balled up.”

Food for thought, but Sibyl’s not listening, “Vengeance! These green wastrels shall pay.”

Vicky scoots her log seat a bit back while Viviane whispers, “Arthur, make a new hedgehog first thing when the gobs are gone.”

Tristan Jr. squawks and points with his bow, “Boss! Over by the puddle!”

When the stone fell aside, Quiffles’ burrow was revealed. Inside they find a small stash of walnuts, murky crystals and an unlocked chest. Red Knight the hobgoblin, sneers with glee at the sight of his new leather pauldron, covered with sharp quills.