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Gather The Gold
Location, Location, Location

Location, Location, Location

Fire lashed out at her skin briefly, having no time to mire her skin with a future scar. Normally, Lavender would go no closer to fire than to make her skin feel like it was worked by a tanner, all stretched and scorned by heat. If she ever did brave the flames like now, she would no doubt stop and look back at the fire before celebrating her act of bravery, but she didn’t stop now. She had something more all consuming than fire behind her. Fire rages indiscriminately, but it could not spread beyond the village or the forest. The raiders behind her would only be stopped by force and force only.

So Lavender ran.

Her feet skirted over the baked dirt road running through her village, but Lavender shifted her center of mass instinctually to keep her feet under her. That didn’t stop her from slamming shoulder first into the wall of a house hidden by a thicket of smog, knocking the wind out of her. She collapsed, falling to her right knee, the only thing preventing her other knee from crashing to the ground was her arm, filled with will to survive, keeping her up. She had no words in her sparse thoughts, she didn’t have the privilege at the moment to waste energy on the word ‘forest’, or wording the quickest path to the forest in her head. Soon even those thoughts were flushed away. She stood, all she knew was where she was running, not particularly keeping the underlying metadata of ‘why’ with the thought.

She manifested the energy move with a punch to the earth. Scrambling over the earth, she whipped her head around to search for her chasers as she took her first steps, and quickly dashed off as the first syllable of a word entered her ears. “ [There, get the little bitch! Come on, come on, move!]” the rushed and breathless order finished from behind Lavender in a foreign language. Without even trying, the images of their faces manifested in her mind, along with the weapons they wielded. The blood they were covered in. Her body was so far away that it felt hard to command, she barely got any feedback from her legs as she commanded the muscles and her bare feet slammed into the ground, but she sprinted away all the same.

One foot after another, piling on with every bit of energy she had, Lavender ran. But, all the efforts of a mortal did not matter in front of the casual efforts of a classed. As the crashing foot falls of the warrior behind her grew louder, Lavender glanced behind her only to see an arm grasping out to her like a snake's strike. She tried to dodge out of the way, but barely made an inch before she was snatched up by her arm. The woman secured her grip on lavender, tucking the squirming girl under her arm, before she dug her heels into the ground and stopped both of them. “ [No escapees today…]” the warrior muttered as she stared deeper into the village where her commander still clashed with another.

The woman tsked as Lavender jerked around in her grip, yelling at her all the while. “Let me go! Let me go! Let- ahhh”, Lavender’s voice was quelled into a croak as their arm closed in, pushing all the air out of her lung and grinding her ribs together. Panic filled her mind as she contracted and pushed on her lungs to no avail. Her lungs screamed at her to give them air, but she should do nothing but flail around the few parts of her body being securely held in place. “[Girl. Shut up, or die.]” the warrior barked at Lavender without empathy, finally letting her gain a breath.

Lavender trembled, but none else.

“[good… oi, Wyst, I got the child!]” the raider called out to someone unseen to Lavender. Slowly, the warrior trotted over to the other person, letting Lavender truly take in the destruction that had been sown. Many houses were wrecked, carved in half by some attack… or some person, as Lavender saw. “Madeline” lavender cried softly as she saw the twisted corpse of the woman embedded into a hut after being thrown through its outer wall. The warrior glanced down at her, but paid her no mind after ascertaining her utterance was not being continued. “[Good catch, I didn’t even see that one flee after that bastard came out that damn hovel… fucking got Tara before Cantor could stop him… fucking blood weaned bastard…]” the new warrior growled out.

The raider holding Lavender could only shake her head, “[they’ll be dead soon, no doubt. You ca-]” the raider said, only pausing as their head exploded into chucks of flesh and a mist of blood. Their life essence painted the surrounding area, including the tall man who appeared behind the now headless corpse. Faster than even the other raider could see, and before Lavender even knew he had come, Hieter took hold of Lavender, pulling her into the path of the enemy commander’s blade. The blade, moving fast enough to make the air scream with its passing, deflected off a shimmering silver barrier that appeared around Lavender, giving Hieter the opening to use his skill, Rejection, launching the enemy away to crash into the farm lands on the opposite side of the village, some 700 feet away. Casually, Hieter finished clearing the area by back handing the remaining raider away.

Hieter kneeled down, cradling Lavender’s limp form in his arms. She had been rendered unconscious by the speed he had moved her to block the enemy’s blade. He gave a shuttering sigh, taking a moment to take in the destruction. “ How stupid can one man be…” he said to himself. For a second, as he glanced back a Lavender’s now peaceful face, he wished he could just run and somehow escape with her. They were kin in the fact that they had no kin. But, it as not to be. Hieter was outmatched in every regard except skill, and there it was only even. If he were to run with her, they’d simply both die. At least, if he would stand and die, one of them would have a chance. Xavier had made it out as well, if he was still around, her odds were good. “ Awake, child. Time is not one to dilly-dally, so neither should you.” he whispered to Lavender, coaxing her out of her sleep.

She floundered as she woke, ready to scream as the terror of the world threatened to rush her mind. Hieter held her firmly, stopping her knee-jerk reaction. He held a hand over her mouth as she tried to speak. “ There is no time. Get up and run towards the forest. Now! I am commanding you, Lavender. Run!” he said, pushing up onto her feet. She stumbled and looked around like a goat which had frightened itself to sleep and awoke confused. “ RUN!” he yelled at Lavender for the first time, scaring her and galvanizing her to finally run away.

“Goodbye” he whispered before turning around to clash with the Meteor Swordsman once again.

So close, but firmly outside the grasp of the raiders, Lavender made into the shallow valley that marked the border between the village and the first. She waded her way through the tall grass, then stormed up the slope into the forest, squeezing through the dense underbrush ringing the forest and into the sparser growth under the forest’s canopy.

Deep inland the lands were colder than on the coast where the tropical air from the sea would give extra warmth. To an adult with a pair of pants and a nice cloak, it would not faze them. Hell, given the person, some might grow too hot beyond the first layer and shed their cloak. Lavender had no cloak, and she was perhaps 90 pounds soaking wet. So instead the ground stole the heat from her feet, and the air made her quake and shiver.

She quickly came down from an arm pumping jog into a walk with her arms pulled through her sleeves. Exhaustion weighed down on her, making her breaths come out quickly despite her sedentary stroll. Lavender stop for a second,“ just a moment” she told herself, and looked up at the dark forest canopy. She couldn’t see anything, just like much of everything else. It’s so quiet, it'd be so easy to sleep like this… her head slowly drooped, and suddenly she felt as though she was falling, waking her from her micro sleep. She was no more awake now, she could not lie to herself, I need to find somewhere to sleep, somewhere secluded, hidden.

In a half awake state, she stumbled through the forest, not at all caring for the efficiency of her walk, only that she did walk. She knew not where she was walking, only that she needed something, anything, that could hide her. Slowly an image filled her mind, an alcove in the ground, not much to ask for. Slowly she started filling in details, of the tree roots creating the side and a small lip over top, the cushy, dry, brush that filled the bottom, how comfortable it would be to sleep in it versus the on the ground.

Her eyes drifted close, her eyelashes reducing her visibility to nothing as she stumbled before righting herself. She regained her footing and stood there, ah, it’s so comfortable in here, thank you Lushen for giving me this blessing, she thought. She was dreaming while standing up.

Her dream drifted away into the void, so close to releasing that she needed to open her eyes, but she had not the will power to drag herself out. Suddenly a new dream filled her mind. An image of a spiraling ring filled her mind, the cold winds howling murder, and then of a simple cave. Then it popped, the dream fading away as more important things came into lavender’s thoughts. She opened her eyes and stared dead towards her target.

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All in line with its plan, the dungeon was not in an icy hellhole, instead in a rather mild climate with pretty pitiful weather over all compared to many habitats out there. Though, the dungeon spirit knew more than just the climate of its residency. For Primus, where was more than a coordinate on a planet. No, the images of the temperate forest filled its mind. It knew all the beautiful clearings which one could sit undisturbed and watch spring water glistening under the canopies opening to the darkest hell thicket that brought any fauna to death with waving tendrils of plant matter. A beautiful landscape, but there is more than just wilds and beasts. Not too far away sat a village, one of little importance, sadly, which meant no dungeoneers seeking out the exp the dungeon could spew out. For now, that was fine. It needs time to consolidate and build a foundation to build its mighty fortress of granger spawn and Muppets.

Its choices were obvious to itself: the grangers because of its water element, it was only a side-step from ice, and The Muppets because they were so damn cute. They were adorable plump creatures from their sedentary life of ambush hunting, some of them grew so fat they couldn’t fit into their burrows to escape predation. In addition, their frills were beautiful, and the little spike of hair growing out of the center of their scalp made them look like they would make a great pet. They wouldn't, at least in this dungeon variety, they would build ground traps and wait for their prey to grow exhausted before poking them full of holes, and because they were so small their weapons created a slow and suffering death.

So, now I am left with three 301 DP and-wait, 301? The dungeon spirit pushed its focus onto its DP counter and watched as it counted into infinite digits, new ones piling up on the digits to create a new point. Huh, thought I could only get DP from delvers. This makes this much simpler, I can just wait and save up points to create my first level. The dungeon spirit thumbed the Shape Terrain skill, recalling its experiments from earlier. Primus had jumbled its thoughts a little. So instead of just turning all the dirt in an area into air, which results in an explosion, turning just a portion of it into air causes it to diffuse away. Using it’s suspected technique from earlier, the dungeon spirit sublimated a percentage of the dirt into air, watching as it slowly dispersed. As a consequence of this method the affected area grew weaker and soon collapsed, the result was similar to a sinkhole. No, I guess I need to hold the dirt while it does it, can't just wait for the air to dissipate to compress the dirt.

Experimentally, the dungeon spirit reached out into the soil to try and still the ever so shifting dirt. But it couldn’t get a solid hold on it, its command just causing the dirt to shudder slightly. Quickly, the dungeon spirit tried to compress the dirt, which worked well, creating a ball of dirt about three cores in height. Of course this caused another little cave in, but the problem was solved now. Just need to do a little addition and… the dungeon spirit now reached out, ready to both sublimate and compress the dirt, it conjured a rhythm in its mind before counting down from 3. On 1 the dungeon spirit created a cube shell inside the sublimation event, slowly adding dirt to the solid walls of the shell as they thinned and expanded. Behold and stare on in wonder. An empty cube within it the dirt, truly a great magic.

Now it had a vessel, an empty space that could become anything and is the foundation for a great dungeon to come. But it had no clue how big the area was… does terraform use DP? Checking its DP, it confirmed it was missing a fraction of a point. No, that’s wrong. Earlier I used Manage Territory and I didn't lose any DP. Once again, the dungeon spirit wielded the ability to conquer reality to itself and found it could still gain new land.

Wandering on the limits of this ability, the dungeon spirit pushed its territory out until it was left with a winding tunnel that varied several dozen of core units in height and having a volume an order and magnitude greater than what its core unit of measurement could be really used to measure. But, it had found its limit. It was stretched far enough now that it could no longer obtain new land; still, looking at the DP, it hadn’t moved an inch. Hmmm.well, I have no clue, I'm not getting any feedback; seems I have forged my first level too. Without an entrance. Fuck. The dungeon spirit tried to reverse its ability to gain territory, pulling at the edges of it demesne, but failed to see any results. With an ethereal sigh, the dungeon spirit looked at its accidental domain, wallowing in its foolish curiosity.

The dungeon spirit sighed once again, might as well tunnel out the territory. Grumbling all the while, the dungeon spirit went through the effort of filling out its mistake. I’m I fucked. I don’t even have an entrance, I can’t reverse my territory, and I have no idea how to get more territory.

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After finishing its tunnel, the dungeon spirit took a few more minutes to grumbled to itself, only ending as a worm popped through the tough outer layer of the dungeon tunnel. Ah, at least I’ll have the worms to keep me company. Innately, the dungeon spirit could feel a change in its menus, which drew it to a new addition under the entry of delvers. The new addition read:

Current Delvers: 1

* Lvl.3 Jumping Worm (common), Dirt Spitter (uncommon)

Interesting, weird that a worm would have levels. Some worms got crushed when I made the tunnel walls, but this one made it out fine, if confused. It did not stay confused, though. The dungeon spirit watched out of its temporary disinterest in managing its dungeon, noticing how the creature moved, how each of its three hundred and two neurons fired, and how it suddenly shifted its behavior. How suddenly its delvers dropped to zero and its invaders increased to one. A second ago, it had only shyly extracted its ‘head’ from the earth before slowly releasing that it was no longer in the dirt. But that didn't stop it, instead the worm moved with conviction as it pried its way out of the tough outer shell of dirt, its long body dangled to half the height of the cave before the scarce rest was pulled free by gravity.

That is a very big worm, its width was more than my core’s and it's dozens of cores long. Be damned, it’s quick- AHHHHHHHH! As soon as the thud of the worm hitting the floor of the dungeon rang out, the worm started vigorously flopping about, similar to a snake’s slither, but not as elegant. It moved like lightning through the cave, squirming its way in a straight line. A line that put it on track with the dungeon spirit’s core. A shiver ran down the dungeon spirit’s mind. It had no idea what would happen if that worm came in contact with it. Quickly, it flexed Shape Terrain, willing the soil around its core to churn and bring the core away from the dungeon wall. Nothing happened. The worm was already burrowing its fat head into the dungeon wall, only a tiny bit away from the core.

With terrifying awareness of its intruder, the dungeon spirit reached forth to the option to summon a Muppet on top of the intruder. It failed, but guided its ethereal touch away from the worm. Knowing what to do, the dungeon spirit dragged the spawn point away from the worm and tried to spawn it. Only when it was near the other side of the dungeon did it spawn. Quite dramatically too. It started with a flower looking structure of burning red and bright blue with four large and curved petals, then sprouted a head from the center petals, pulling the construct down, but before it could crash face first its arms and legs spiraled out and caught it. Before a moment of peace, the creature ran off, pumping all four of its limbs down the tunnel it was born in before dragging its clawing into the solid earth to slide through the first half of the hair pin like conjunction. It took a few powerful strides before hopping off the ground and up to the wall and then careening off like a missile, twisting midair to land on its hands and feet. The dungeon spirit's mind pounded as it overlaid the dirt throwing sprint of the monkey and the borrowing mouth of the worm, unable to see which won would find their goal first.The monkey screeched out instinctively as it rounded the final corner, panting breaths quickly replacing the scream as it thundered on.

Feeling the scream vibrate its flesh, the worm writhed, nervous and anxious while being so exposed and ripe for eating. Unnaturally fixed at its goal, the worm continued on bullheadedly, feeling as, one after another, its segments popped into the tunnel it was making. Never would this creature act this way, so ignorant of the threat so close, but as it grew closer and closer to the core something was born in that worm: a mind. Arcane power fueled its desperation, as it was born of this magic, and would live through it only. Death sat in absolute one way, and in possibility the other. The choice was simple. Redoubled in the few seconds it felt left before it would either die or succeed, the worm was left with only a sliver of dirt left between life and death. The last piece of dirt was pulled into its mouth, allowing it to slide its way in just a sliver more.

Like the bells of heaven, the worm was struck with energy.

Agony and ecstasy connected for one moment, two minds bristling against each other. It was a state that could not last, the two parties only wishing destruction upon each other with their full might, though it was obviously the winner before they even began to pull at each other. Natural disposition could not be fought off, no matter the pain you were in. Agony could not drive the dungeon spirit hard enough to battle the worm, no matter how hard it fought, or how much more complex it was, the core was its only weakness.

Then there came deafening silence, punctuated by a subdued dinging sound. Confused, the dungeon spirit reeled back, but realization filled the gaps in understanding quickly. The worm was gone from its core, with it the overwhelming feeling of its life energy being ripped away. In truth, it was not silent, but relative to the experience before…

Death. I was so close to dying, just like that. To almost be done in by an overgrown worm. Disgusting, the dungeon spirit thought, filled with venom it had never felt before. With vindictive rage, the dungeon spirit shook off the pain of almost being consumed and focused on its domain.

Battle raged in the dungeon spirit's breadth, and a one-sided one at that. The worm, engorged on the essence of the dungeon core, fired out a burst of magic that turned its decidedly harmless spit of dirt into a fast moving stone that clipped the agile monkey on its thigh despite its evasive maneuvers. Seemingly, the fight had been warring for a small period of time while the dungeon spirit recovered, seeing as the monkey was bruised and brutally exhausted. It was only an ambush predator used to running from anything bigger than itself, it wasn’t built for prolonged battle at all. But it fought so valiantly despite its nature, you will be rewarded handsomely for your bravery, small one. Now watch in dread as you face my might, worm bastard!

Just as it was about to summon two more combatants to join the fight, just when it had felt the worm enter itself, the dungeon spirit noticed something new in its menu.

Dungeon Management:

* Shape Environment(Lvl.2)

* Territory management (Lvl.2)

* Create Objects (Lvl.1)

Glorious~., the dungeon spirit purred. Another lightning quick look through its menus reveal to the dungeon spirit that it had somehow leveled, going from 0 to 1. I must have hit some hidden condition- something to do with fighting off an invader? Or a delver? The dungeon spirit pulled away from that unnecessary train of thought and with all haste it activated the new ability, not waiting time with experimental curiosity it imagined magical, flesh eating, blow darts and accompanying blow guns. Failure. Not wishing death for its first summon, the dungeon spirit felt out the error the ability gave him and tried something much simpler. Success. Following its plan from earlier, the dungeon spirit summoned two more muppets to fight. Born with a mission in mind and soon weapons in hand, two in hand for one of them, the spawn took off.

Slowed by their weapons, the muppets would be reliant on their forebear to hold their own, which she was. Fight muppet, fight! Watch out, the worm is priming its magic! Strike now, while it's twisted like a fool! the dungeon spirit micromanaged the muppet from its link to it. The muppet jumped away from its foe, sadly giving it room to breathe and cast, making the dungeon spirit start up another message to the creature. Before the second syllable could be yelled across their link, the muppet spoke for the first time to the dungeon spirit, surprising it. [Quiet and relax, dungeon] the muppet beamed over in the language of thoughts, the meta context exposing the muppet’s frustration at the dungeon spirit’s screaming, it wasn’t the one fighting, after all. Well, ok, then the dungeon spirit kept to itself, embarrassed at being reprimanded.

Standing as tall and as cool as a muppet could, the muppet calmly ascertained her kin’s arrival and took the simple spear one brought for her. She took a wide stance and gave the simple weapon a twirl, feeling the balance and weight of the weapon as it spun around in its dexterous hands. With a contemptuous swing of its weapon, the lead muppet struck down the speeding rock heading towards herself, hitting it slightly off center to guide the energy of the projectile instead of just fighting it. HA, show that upstart, Rangtwor!

The dungeon spirit sent over their mental link, simultaneously cheering on the muppet while naming it. Rangtwor shook her head imperiously, but was inside satisfied with the name, despite its lack of meaning.

She would just have to fill it with meaning herself.

With a quiet but strong screech, Rangtwor commanded her fellows, leading them with a jab of her spear and the powerful stride of her legs. Behind her, the reinforcement fell in tandem, taking the flanks of the formation as Rangtwor took the vanguard. Unhappy with the boxing formation running its way, the earth worm charged, planning on using its enhanced size and speed to run down the muppet on the left. To do so, it had to stop its constant, unpredictable, movement to shorten the gap quickly enough to hit the monkey. Rangtwor didn't hesitate, unlike her newly born brothers, and launched her weapon into the path of the worm, sticking it just behind its newly formed eyes.

The blow caused the worm to instinctually flinch away from the direction of its wound, and thus giving the muppet on the left the room it needed to dodge. Barley. With a quick chirp, Rangtwor reinstated their charge, wanting to give no time for recovery. Sadly, her newborn soldiers were slower on the call, scared to approach the wild monster, sacred to die. Rangtwor quickly noticed her backup's slow steps, she had enough time to slow down herself, keep herself from tanking the focus she had already been for the last minute, but still she kept on charge. It was simple in her mind: lead by example.

Snapped out of their wide-eyed focus on death, the muppets reignited the charge to its full. Still, Ragnwor was in the lead, with no immediate backup to retaliate and punish the worm's assault. Rangtwor belatedly realized her enthusiasm might have been too much, there was a reason to fear the charge as her fellows did, as being the recipient of the worm's attack could mean death. It would be no problem with her subordinates at her side, but instead of waiting, she led by example so as not to lose the momentum of the battle. [rats, if only they had followed as ordered] Rangtwor thought as she saw her fate.

Only a moment as the worm’s skin tensed was the sign of its assault. The worm propelled itself as Rangtwor entered its striking range: the full length of its body. Cockily, Rangtwor met the charge with a slight dodge to the side, only to get hit when the worm corrected itself midair, slamming fully into her chest. “Arahh” Rangtwor grunted wetly as she was driven into the ground by the worm, her mind frazzled by the blow. Not wanting to let the still alive muppet go, the worm pulled the closest extremity into its mouth, using its strong muscles to hold it in place. Instantly Rangtwor squirmed around as her head was

fully encompassed by the worm, choking off her air supply.

Be damned- it can’t win, it can’t! The dungeon spirit yelled in its mind, scared to the core of its fate if Rangtwor fell. Spawn, fight, charge, save Rangtwor! The dungeon spirit commanded its spawn, who, while loyal to the dungeon, still felt the fear of death. Unmoved by its order and scared witless by their leader’s thrashing as the worm suffocated her and slammed her about, the muppets just looked on. Fight, little ones, fight now or die later. You must save Rangtwor for any of us to have hope of surviving this monster’s attack! The dungeon spirit was dry at this point, having no DP to do anything; the only thing the dungeon spirit could do was scream and plead with their summons to fight. Existential dread filled the dungeon spirit: I can’t do anything, i can scream and beg, but it doesn’t mean they will move. My life is not in my hands any longer. Rangtwor… She is still….

The dungeon spirit opened its link to the firstborn once again, blaring its feelings of anger, dread, violence.

Rangtwor drifted in a sea, she had never seen a sea nor could ponder on that fact, but here she was, feeling the waves drag her back and forth. She tried to close her eyes and relax, let the waves flow through her, become her, but she was not still mentally. She stared up at the sky, its casual majesty, and could not accept the still darkness. No, the thought of becoming something other than her enraged her, she was not the ocean, nor did she wish to be the sky, she was Rangtwor, and she would fill that name with all it meant to be her. Filled with anger, dread, and violence, Rangtwor screamed back to life.

She saw the position of her weapon shining bright through the flesh of the worm and flung her arm at it, taking a firm hold. With her weapon back where it should be, she jammed the end of it into the worm’s face, hoping to it something important. Her chokehold lightened for a second, air fuming into the small gaps in the worm’s mouth, and Rangtwor ripped her head out of its hold. She only managed a few steps away before breaking out into wheezing breaths that racked her body, but she was not hit by a counter-attack by the worm. Confused, Rangtwor looked up as the air she breathed brought her ears back to life, squeaky battle roars filled the air as two little creatures fought one much bigger one. Still, they hemmed the worm in, pressing the attack even at the expense of an injury.

Instantly after the pride wore off, Rangtwor saw they would make no headway with their attacks. These body blows they stuck on the worm were useless: there was nothing of importance there. They needed to strike the head, hit the brain.

Rangtwor called out to the dungeon spirit, demanding information. The dungeon spirit was quick to respond, happily beaming the position of the worm's brain. With a quick mental message to tell the others, she took off. She was tired, had too many fractures and breaks to name, and could hardly think. Giving up was not an option for her, death only waited as a result of that. She gathered her spear which has tumbled away from the writhing worm and with a scream, she retook the middle forward position, facing the worm with a stone face. The worm knew its main target when he saw her and pounced forward, but not before spitting a leading buckshot of stone. Keenly, Rangtwor struck one stone out of the air that was flying towards her face, and then with an almost unbelieving spark of a battle prowess, weaved the blow into a stab towards the worm.

Huh, that was anticlimactic.

Too worn to dodge, Rangtwor took the worm’s final charge, letting herself get swept up that last few feet before friction and gravity stopped the attack in full. Rangtwor looked on blankly as she just breathed with face mushed against the corpse of the worm. [no, this is no way to end a kill] , instead of silence she opened her mouth, and while pointed to the sky, howled. It echoed many times though the dungeon, and to it the noise was like music. An immense and unafraid decree that she had won, that the battle was over.

As the dungeon spirit felt a link open from her side, it listened with rapt ears, “[I want to see the sky]”. Seeing as I got A level for that, I’ll humor your request, Rangtwor.

Uncaring of any consequence of opening its dungeon to the world, the dungeon spirit reached out with its reactivated Shape Environment and Manage Territory and started drilling. Really, it was its obligation, and its ultimate joy, to fulfill the wish of those who give their all and succeed. It was its purpose. The dungeon spirit noticed its ability to control the area had increased, but paid no real mind to it and just chalked it up to leveling up while continuing its journey to the surface. All the while, Rangtwor refused to fall asleep, instead waiting, breath abated, to see the sky for real. All of a sudden, it all came crashing down, that dirt falling to gravity finally and piling up high on the dungeon floor. But, there it was… a forest canopy. With a stuffy sigh, Rangtwor fell into dreams, somewhat disappointed but still happy at the dungeon spirit and her brethren’s efforts.

Already, she was healing her nearly fatal wounds at a fast rate from the dungeon’s influence. The dungeon spirit could feel the strength she had earned from this fight, when she woke up tomorrow she would be stronger than today. What a great day, a battle was fought, a victor was made, and a lesson was learned: I am very much so killable. Hmmm- what's that? Oh, damn it, the consequences came fast. Someone was approaching.

—--------------------------------

Enchanted by the siren call, Lavender stepped slowly over the loam, looking through the trees and darkness. She was in a thoughtless state, existing simply in emotion and action like a beast; what she felt when she saw the oh so unnatural hole in the ground was warmth like a blanket on winter’s most grave night. How could she resist? Greater and older, having gone through what lavender had, would fall in spite of their maturity.

Like she had done it a thousand times before, fearlessly she crouched next to the hole before letting her lower body dangle into the hole while she let her upper body slowly slide down till she dropped with a thud, landing on all fours.

In the darkness she crawled till she hit a nook, there she circled herself into a ball and lay listening, feeling, the thoom of the rising call, and the whale of the descending call. In her mind, it evoked a warm color of orange, like a sun’s set. With peace at last, she fell asleep undisturbed.