Stepping across the threshold of the arch came with a jarring sensation, like they’d missed a step, or had nearly tripped. Sigrid didn’t know what that meant, but one of the knights near the front shouted urgently. “DUNGEON!”

“Shit,” Skree muttered.

“Language,” Sigrid replied reflexively. “What’s a dungeon?”

“It’s a place where mana became too dense and formed a node that spawns monsters and resources, they can be farmed but are dangerous, almost always trying to kill anyone who enters,” One of the knights replied as they continued moving downward. Skree, for his part, ignored the admonishment.

Soon the stairs let out into what seemed to be labyrinthine tunnels, though something was odd; the walls were an off-gray color and the air was filled with a heavy sweet scent. For a moment she couldn’t place it, then she did. “Honey?”

One of the knights ran to the nearby wall and scratched at it with his knitting needle, the gray peeled away to reveal hexagonal cells beneath, filled with golden-hued thick liquid. “It’s a hive!” the woman exclaimed in near horror. That was when the walls seemed to come alive as millions of bees began to eat their way out of the combs in which they were ensconced.

The knights formed up in a circle around sigrid and Skree, looking panicked and worried. The goddess didn’t blame them. How were they going to fight a swarm of bees? The insects were too small to fight off with conventional weapons; where did that leave them?

The bees swarmed, millions upon millions; so many that they created an opaque cloud. Strangely, however, they didn’t attack, instead thy flowed around the party in an ever spinning circle of black and yellow; their wings beating a sonorous hum.

For nearly a minute, Sigrid and Skree failed to understand what was happening. Then the first alpaca with a cage appeared, moving quickly toward one of the knights… who utterly failed to respond. That’s when it hit; the bees were using a mental attack! Sigrid was of course immune, and Skree had worked hard to raise his mental resistance, that left them unaffected, but the knights had no such protection.

As the alpaca moved to scoop up the knight Sigrid rushed over and whacked it upside the head with her spoon. The monster looked dazed, and disoriented, backing away quickly and giving sad sounding bleats.

Meanwhile, Skree wasn’t standing idle. He brought up his hands and whispered something to the air around him. As he did so Sigrid could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Suddenly there was the zzzt of discharging electricity and small bolts of lightning traveled through the cloud of insects. They died by the hundreds of thousands, and Skree cast again, and again until most all of them were smoking and charred on the ground. Even then it was minutes more before the knights left their stupor; they looked around at the carnage with confusion and chagrin.

“What happened?” one of them asked as she stepped over a pile of charred bugs.

“Some form of mental attack,” Skree grunted back, looking impatient. “We need to keep moving!”

The knights looked at each other worriedly, but nodded and continued forward; Sigrid and Skree in tow.

The labyrinth wasn’t long, or difficult, but the masses of bees showed up three more times, and each time Skree was forced to deal with them. However, eventually they came to a set of stairs leading down.

With cautious steps the knights began to descend, Skree hot on their heels and grumbling about how they needed to go faster.

The next level was also a cave system, but this time the walls were actually made of stone, though it was damp with pooling water in places and fungus growing along the walls and floor.

One of the knights paused to look at the growths and just stopped.

“What is it Xil?” asked another, only to receive no response. “Xil?” she shook her companion, who suddenly looked at her with a blank expression. He then blinked several times, as if coming to.

“What?” Xil asked, sounding distant, and almost confused.

“You were staring at wall,” she replied.

“Oh, it’s just… this fungus is fascinating… he trailed off, as he tried to turn back toward the growth he was viewing.

The female knight slapped him and he looked at her startled.

“What was that for?!” he asked in hurt surprise.

“Mental effect!” she said. “No one look too hard at the fungus!”

“That’s gonna be easier said than done,” one of the other knights commented, but they all studiously did their best not to look at the growths on the walls and floor.

Once more the march began and it wasn’t long until they ran into the next monster. It was the six-legged lizard cats that had attacked outside. Five of them jumped out at once, their bodies crackling with electricity. Two of them managed to brush up against a knight and he went down in a twitching pile, alive but clearly stunned. Meanwhile the other knights skewered the creatures with their needles and Skree pelted them with rocks he ripped out of the walls.

It didn’t take long before the creatures were dead, but it was some three minutes before the knight was back on his feet. All the while Sigrid cursed herself for a fool; they should have waited the few extra minutes it would have taken to get a [Helper]. However, there was no use crying over might have been, all they could do was press forward.

Continuing in the cave system they fought five more packs of the creatures, each time losing one or two knights at the beginning of the fight. Fortunately it seemed the cat-lizards were designed to incapacitate, not harm, so no real damage was done. Finally they found the stairs further down and descended.

The next floor opened up into what looked like excellent pasture land, dotted with little red flowers. It took Sigrid a moment to recognize them, but once she did she scowled.

“Oh no, I’ve seen The Wizard of Oz, this is not happening. Skree, burn any poppy you see!” she proclaimed while pointing out the red blooms.

“Gladly,” the young goblin said, and started flinging small balls of flame.

As the flames greedily consumed the patches of poppies, llamas of all colors came bounding across the grassland, and as they did, they opened their mouths. Sigrid expected bleating, and cries, instead she got a soothing symphony as voices llamas were not supposed to have were raised in perfect harmony. Instantly she understood the danger.

“Kill the llamas quick as you can! That’s a lullaby!” she shouted at the knights who were already looking a little tired.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Each of the knights immediately called for their [Knitwork Steed] and charged the llama herd, causing them to break off their lullaby and scatter. That only prolonged the inevitable as the knights hunted them down one by one, skewering them through with lance-like needles. From there it was relatively simple, if tedious, to get through the floor. The only obstacle was waiting for Skree to burn the poppies in the way.

Descending once more they found themselves in a field of sunflowers, all of which immediately turned in a most unnatural way to point directly at the invading party. Then, they flashed. The light was bright and dazzling, making it impossible to see. Unfortunately that wasn’t the only effect, for when her eyes cleared moments later, Sigrid could see that all the knights had been stunned, they were gazing around sightlessly, and even drooling slightly from the corners of their mouths. Skree was swearing up a storm as he rubbed at his eyes. That was when the cows appeared.

They almost looked like normal cows, if you ignored the fact that all three of them had udders attached to either side of their body, instead of on their bellies. Worse, the utters seemed to be prehensile, perking up and all the teats pointing in the direction of the party. Sigrid, who could see what was about to happen, grabbed Skree and hauled him out of the way even as the utters started rapid fire squirting milk at the still stunned knights.

The aim of the cows was impeccable, each shot hit an open mouth, and the knights seemed to swallow reflexively. At first nothing seemed to happen, but then they began to wobble, and soon fell over, each passing out.

Sigrid ran forward, spoon in hand and began beating on the attacking cattle, even as Alpacas came from gods knew were and began scooping up the downed knights. Skree flung fire, lightning, and even clods of dirt at the creatures, but they still managed to get away with the now caged goblins. The cows faired fare more poorly, running away braying their grief and repentance.

Sigrid paused to look around, they’d lost six knights, it was just her and Skree now, and who knew how many more floors. She’d be fine, but Skree…

“You need to head back,” she said firmly.

“No,” he rejoined and began walking, giving her no time to argue.

The grandmother moved to catch up, her longer stride making it trivial to outpace him. “We don’t know what else is down here, or how bad it might get. I can’t risk losing you too!”

“I don’t care! Anx is down here and I’m going to find her!” He exclaimed, sounding almost hysterical. He then darted forward toward the stairs Sigrid could now see built into a hillside. Sighing, she followed him down.

—

The next floor was one big chamber in the center of which was a giant anthropomorphic boar man. He was dressed in a tweed coat, wearing glasses, and standing in front of a blackboard. In one hand he held a pointer stick. “You’re late!” he boomed. “Class is about to start! Take your seats!” he commanded, waving to the desks and chair set before him.

Skree, looking slightly dazed actually started forward before Sigrid clamped a hand on his shoulder. He looked back at her quizzically, then his eyes cleared.

“He’s a bore.” Sigrid said succinctly.

“Yeah, I can see that!” Skree replied crossly.

“No, a bore, b-o-r-e. He bores you. Probably to sleep, or stiff, or some other silly status effect,” she explained even as the Bore started droning the background, his voice entirely monoton as he began explaining about proper composting procedure.

“Don’t listen, don’t acknowledge, just move past,” the goddess advised.

Skree nodded, and the two of them walked right past the Bore and down the stairs behind him.

Exiting into the final floor, they found themselves in a moderately sized room, the walls of which were lined with giant crystals. Within each crystal appeared to be a sleeping person, all of the children from the square and the six knights. Finally, there, in the very center of the room, was a perfectly spherical white gem set upon a pedestal.

Skree ignored the gem, running over to a crystal containing his sister. He stared at it, clearly trying to understand how to undo whatever was holding her hostage. Meanwhile Sigrid approached the orb.

Looking at it, she could see the emotion wafting off it. Rage, despair, loneliness, betrayal, abandonment, and fear were the most prevalent. This must be the core of the dungeon, and it was hurting; not physically, but emotionally. Carefully she reached out and placed her hand on it.

The room around her seemed to fade away, and she could see standing across from her a very young, yet paradoxically ancient goblin boy. He was thin to the point of starvation, and his face was sullen, fearful, and tear streaked while his eyes spoke of a deep and abiding loneliness.

The two stared at each other for a very long time before he finally spoke, his voice ragged from crying, his anger apparent. “Well, you’ve won! Beat the big bad dungeon. Saved the people. Go ahead, destroy my core already!”

Sigrid looked at the boy and spoke a single word. “No.”

He stared back at her, seemingly shocked for a moment, then glared defiantly. “Then I’ll never let them go! They’re mine now! Mine forever! I will never be alone again!”

“Who left you alone?” the Grandmother Goddess asked, her eyes soft as she looked at the child, seeing the broken links about him that once led to further floors. She could tell he’d once been much more than the boy she saw before her. What had he given up, and why?

“THE GOBLINS! THEY LEFT ME!” He screamed at her, fresh tears spilling. “But they won’t leave me again! I won’t allow it! As long as I have their children they’ll stay forever!”

“Oh child,” Sigrid breathed softly. “And what will you do when someone does come to shatter you?”

“Not be alone any more,” he muttered with quiet despair.

Sigrid reached out for the small goblin, only to have her hand pass through the projection. She growled in anger and annoyance. This dungeon, even if it had been more once, was now just a hurt child lashing out and looking for that which had been denied to it; no physical limitation was going to get in the way of her helping a child.

She placed both her hands on the orb, because it felt appropriate for what she was about to do. “I am the Grandmother Goddess, Grandmother to All Those Who Need It. He needs it, and [Grandchildren Are Meant to be Held]!” she demanded.

The world shivered about her as [Divinity] clashed with a natural order that had existed since magic first stirred at the dawn of time. The law, she could feel, was firm; dungeons did not have corporeal form. Sigrid’s lips firmed, her face set in determination. So the universe disagreed? Well that was just too bad! She was The Grandmother Goddess and the universe could take a hike!

With a thought she reached out, finding those links that were always around her. Her consciousness fractured, thousands of times, flowing downstream to her grandchildren, claimed and otherwise, feeling them, entreating their strength. They responded, a single unified cry. Of course they would support their grandmother! Then she pushed further, her mind splintering thousands, millions of times more, flowing into the strands that filled the entire world. There were grandmothers everywhere, and she whispered into their minds, a simple wordless plea to save a child. The Grandmotherhood responded. Perhaps not all of them, perhaps not even most, but she felt their strength become hers.

It wasn’t enough, not enough. So she went further. This wasn’t the only world, and she was a Goddess dammit! Across time, across space, across worlds and galaxies and universes there were trillions, quadrillions, perhaps quintillions of grandmas. With each she added to the collective her range stretched further. But there was a price, she was burning, her godly form not powerful enough to sustain this communion. However, she had it now, the weight of universes and she pushed.

[Divinity] evaporated like fog under the sun, yet more poured into her, not from worship, not from ritual or prayer, but from the love of grandmothers everywhere who would break every natural law over their knee for their grandchildren. She spent it profligately and the universe groaned under it’s weight, then finally shattered.

There was a thud, and a cry of pain a small, skinny goblin boy crashed to the ground before the pedestal. He looked scared, bewildered, and still angry. Sigrid released the links she held but wavered on her feet; there were notifications nagging at her, some of them screaming to be heard. She ignored them, they were less important than her grandson.

For once since arriving in this world she felt her age as she tottered forward and collapsed next to the crying, angry form. Then, with frail, gentle arms she gathered him up and held him close.

“You will never be alone again,” she murmured. “Not so long as grandma lives. And love, I intend to live a long time.”