Glory had found Dio and Will fast asleep in the rented karaoke room, the phonograph still playing some kind of ballad Glory didn’t know the words to. Will was leaning into Dio’s chest, the dragon’s arm laying over Will’s own chest.

Glory considered the possibility that Will would be unhappy to find himself in such an intimate position, but wasn’t sure how to rectify this. He settled on lifting Dio’s arm, yanking Will hooves-first down the couch, and wedging a pillow between them.

This woke Will up, as Glory had anticipated, but he was groggy enough to not notice the sudden repositioning. “What the Hell?” Will said blearily.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” said Glory. “I was beginning to worry. Rex told us that you’d run off naked into the night.”

“Well, that’s not incorrect,” said Will, getting his bearings. “Dio found me and we came here to stay warm. I must’ve fallen asleep.”

Will got up to a sitting position. “Was this pillow always here?” He asked.

“You can’t stay here,” Glory said, dodging the question. “I rented us a proper room for the night, and the poor man up front was beginning to worry about you.”

“Buh. Okay.”

“Dio,” Glory said, snapping his fingers about a foot away from the dragon’s face. “Wake up. We can’t stay here all night.”

“Five more minutes…” Dio grumbled.

“If you stay we’re going to have to start paying for the hours you’ve racked up,” Glory said flatly.

Dio staggered to his feet, still sleepy but at least present. “Fine, let’s bounce.”

Glory produced another harness and jacket for Will and led them to an inn some distance away, using a barrier to keep the wind and light snow from battering Will.

Two rooms had been rented for the party, which meant Will would be bunking with Virgil. The room actually contained a bunk bed, which Virgil had claimed the top layer of.

The rest of the details didn’t matter to Will, who collapsed into the bed and attempted to fall asleep.

From out of view, Glory asked about the experience Will had had at the bar.

“That’s the reaping condition,” Glory said, referring to the strange X-ray vision and life-obliterating episode Will had relayed. “It’s very powerful, as you no doubt noticed, but as I will remind you is extremely dangerous to remain in.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’ll kill me for real,” Will said, wishing this conversation could have waited until tomorrow. “I’ll be careful. I didn’t even mean to do it.”

“That’s the problem,” Glory said. “If you start reaping when you don’t expect it, you’re putting yourself at incredible risk.”

“Sleep now, warn later,” said Will.

Glory relented. Will did deserve his rest.

The dungeon known as Mad Jotunn’s Tomb was not particularly popular. The leading opinion was that it had been picked clean of valuables and lacked especially interesting challenges.

“It’s an imposing view, at least,” Glory had said, and he wasn’t wrong. The entrance snaked through a rock formation shaped like the kind of horned helmets Vikings were inaccurately depicted as wearing.

Despite the middling reputation, Glory had insisted on preparing well. He’d given Will a potion that apparently would protect him from dangerously cold temperatures by filling his blood with a natural antifreeze.

“Like a wood frog,” Will had said. It tasted like a wood frog, too.

Dio and Rex pulled open the huge, ancient pine wood doors of the dungeon, beckoning the rest of the party inside.

While it was definitely close to freezing inside, Will immediately noticed that much of the ice was beginning to melt, revealing cracked stonework beneath. Trickles of meltwater flowed deeper into the dungeon, a constant low patter like soft rain.

A large white flower was growing from a torn-up wall. It reminded Will of an orchid, and he approached it to get a better look.

“Don’t touch that!” Said the plant, causing Will to jerk back in surprise.

“Sorry, I didn’t think…” Will paused. He’d been going to say ‘you were a person,’ but it had clearly said ‘that’ in a tone that reminded him of people defending something expensive.

The orchid’s central petals darkened and folded to show an approximate outline of… something. It was like an optical illusion, where once you saw it at the right angle, you knew what it was. A head, Will realized, and it now felt obvious.

Not a human head, something angular and canine. A hyena, maybe, what Will would call a gnoll. A pair of yellow stamen approximated squinting eyes.

“I’m sorry, mister…” Will prompted.

“It’s doctor Skullfuck Bonecrusher,” said doctor Skullfuck Bonecrusher.

“I’m not calling you that,” said Will. “Do you have something… shorter?”

Doctor Skullfuck Bonecrusher scoffed indignantly. “I refuse to have my genius go unacknowledged. I earned my doctorate, and I will have it recognized!”

“Can I call you doctor Skullcrusher?”

Doctor Skullfuck Bonecrusher considered this. “Very well. Doctor Skullcrusher, then.”

“Thank you for understanding,” Will said deferentially. “Was this plant designed by you? It’s a remarkable bit of biotechnology.”

Skullcrusher grinned widely, the orchid’s pale petals imitating teeth. “Indeed it is! You should appreciate my design more.”

“Two-way communication without a sustained spell is impressive,” agreed Glory. “It must require an acute understanding of biomancy.”

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“Pah,” said Skullcrusher distastefully. “It’s not so complex. The basics are already of nature’s grand design, in the bee orchid and its relatives.”

“It’s an ingenious strategy,” said Will, recalling the plant. “Looking and smelling like a potential mate to attract pollinators.”

“Aha, you understand!” Said Skullcrusher excitedly. “Plants without agricultural or magical applications are so often ignored, but they still have so much to teach, so much to offer!”

The orchid shook as Skullcrusher cackled loudly. Will was certain that this gnoll botanist was a kindred spirit, and that he needed no magic to know how well he understood him.

“I’d love to get a better look at your lab,” said Will, and he wasn’t lying.

Skullcrusher stopped laughing. “I’m afraid I’m not allowing tours right now. The dungeon is strictly off-limits to adventurers.”

“I misspoke,” said Will, improvising. “My… colleagues… and I are looking to… invest in cutting-edge research. Do you have more to show?”

“Investors?” Skullcrusher asked shrewdly. “Why didn’t you say so? I’ve got dozens of prototypes! Dozens!”

“Please, follow the mycelium,” Skullcrusher said as thin fungal strands began to undulate in waves of glowing color, leading to the right corridor further into the dungeon.

Will followed the trail, and his party followed him. What must have at one point been a frozen room was now a steaming morass of slick rock and moss. Another orchid grew from the corner of this room, which stirred as Will watched.

“Surely it would be simpler to set up somewhere warmer to grow plants,” said Glory.

“I’m located this far north for security reasons,” said Skullcrusher. “I don’t want any experiments to escape.”

“Ah,” said Glory flatly. “Experiments such as…?”

“You’re meeting one shortly,” said Skullcrusher. “If you survive, let me know what you think. All feedback is good feedback!”

“What—“ Will attempted to say before a shape crept towards him, forcing him to scamper to the side. The rocks and moss made getting traction on the ground tricky.

The moss was swelling into mobile forms, like fuzzy green slugs. While not especially quick, they could move effortlessly on the slimy ground.

Will cut through one, which divided itself into two halves and barely slowed. The moss ball’s soul was one of the simplest Will had tried to understand, little more than a set of survival imperatives. Move towards light, water, nutrients. Move away from danger.

It wasn’t attacking him, per se. It had no understanding that Will was even a discrete thing. It simply knew Will was made of water and nutrients, and wanted some.

Dio shouted as a moss ball clung to his leg. “It’s venomous,” he said, trying to hack the blob away with a knife. Glory blasted the moss on Dio with light, but that only made the moss grow thicker.

“Fuck, don’t do that!” Dio said, hissing in pain.

“We need to dry them out,” said Will. “They’ll go dormant.” This was only a hunch on Will’s part, but he kept that to himself.

Rex, who was fending a rippling wave of moss off with a shield, whistled a salute. He blew onto the shield, shimmering heat forming steam around him. The metal began to glow dully, and Rex pressed it back towards the moss.

Another puff of steam billowed out as the moss dried and blackened.

Glory pulled a simple sword from a hole in space and began similarly heating it, then did the same for Dio’s knife. The heated weapons stopped the moss easily, as though it was once again plain old plant matter.

Virgil, who like Will could not hold red-hot metal, joined Will behind the action. He hurriedly sketched something circular by scraping moss off the slimy wall, then ducked as a blast of fire erupted from the sigil.

“How are you finding the moss?” Skullcrusher asked with frankly unprofessional enthusiasm. “Be honest, is the venom too much?”

“I’d say it’s pretty distracting,” said Dio. “Why does it hurt so much!?”

“Earlier versions didn’t telegraph that they were trying to digest you well enough,” Skullcrusher said, proud of his own problem-solving skills. “The pain response ensures that the inherent danger is more immediately obvious.”

“Oh, of course,” Dio said sardonically, roasting the last flecks still stuck to his leg. “Gotta make sure everyone knows the carnivorous marimos are dangerous.”

“You’re being sarcastic,” said Skullcrusher observationally, “but I’m sure you’d rather know if you’re being digested than not.”

Dio said nothing. Enough moss had retreated or burned that it no longer approached, and everyone took a moment to catch their breath.

“You’re designing plant monsters,” Will said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes!” agreed Skullcrusher. “That’s why you’re here, right?”

“Yes, of course,” Will said. “But what other projects are you working on? Anything more like the orchid screen?”

“A few things,” Skullcrusher admitted. “But they’re really not very interesting. Personal projects. Not money-makers.”

His tone suggested that he was more proud of these supposedly non-profitable creations than he let on, which was a sentiment Will was very familiar with. “Show us,” said Will.

“If you’re certain,” said Skullcrusher, though his tone suggested excitement rather than apprehension.

Will and the party were led further into the dungeon, to a spiraling staircase that cut a wide shaft from somewhere out of sight above to somewhere out of sight below. Hallways branched off in all directions on each floor, most of them collapsed or frozen over.

Another orchid unfurled. “This one I’m quite proud of,” Skullcrusher said.

From somewhere below, there was a soft rumble as a far-too-bright light flooded the floor Will currently stood on.

Will staggered back in surprise, and Glory actually yelped, snapping his floating eye shut and attempting to shield it with a wing.

When Will opened his eyes, the lights had dimmed to merely daylight-bright, and level with the floor a huge lily pad had grown, taking up most of the chasm’s space.

“I call it a vertivator,” said Skullcrusher proudly. “Using plant tissue that responds to light, I can guide the platform wherever I like.”

An elevator, Will thought but didn’t say. “How reliable is it?” he asked. “How stable?”

“The vertivator actually has three stems that loop around each other like springs,” Skullcrusher said, practically glowing. “Each reinforces the other two, making it quite stable indeed. No need to worry.”

“Can I test it out?” Will asked.

“Certainly! Please, only one at a time, though.”

Will nodded to the party and climbed up onto the vertivator. As a human, the jump might have intimidated him, but as a strong-legged satyr, it was simple and effortless.

Will stepped on the leaf, testing its stability. It began to sink as the lights finally dimmed.

“I think this design has potential,” Will said, genuinely impressed.

“Perhaps,” said Skullcrusher. “Unfortunately, only some dungeons have shafts like this one. There’s not many places where this design functions.”

“I bet buildings could benefit from elevators, too,” Will suggested, thinking himself sly. “Imagine building a tower and using one of these to reach the top in minutes. The view would be incredible.”

By this point Will was descending into deep darkness. He attempted an illumination spell Virgil had shown him, but it only partially cut through the gloom.

“I have thought about it,” Skullcrusher said. “And I can see the potential. You know, you’re not the first to call them ‘elevators.’”

From somewhere above, there was a rumbling of stone and the indistinct shouting of Will’s party. Some kind of hatch shut above him, cutting off almost all of Will’s remaining access to light.

The air down in the deepest parts of Mad Jotunn’s Tomb was warm and muggy, but Will felt suddenly very, very cold.

“Is that so?” Will asked, tone perfectly flat.

“Yes,” Skullcrusher said. In the darkness, it felt like the gnoll’s voice was coming from every direction. “I was told to apprehend any earthlings I find. My master will be very pleased to meet with you.”