--------- Somewhere in Plainsheart ---------
She didn't have a choice. She had to eat, right? Nobody could fault her for needing to eat. But they would. They would if they knew how she was able to trade for food. What she had to trade for food.
She grabbed one of the bumpy glass bottles she kept refilling and took a few glugs. Another few. She wanted to just throw it, but she didn't want to have to beg for another. She wasn't that person anymore. That's why she moved. The monsters in the wilds weren't even what she was running from, after all.
--------- Giant Squisher Research Room ---------
The one odd-man-out, as it were, just kept their weapon and torch ready, but the other four were paired in a way that both made sense and was strange to Giant. One was writing something, and the other held a torch so they could see what they were writing and what was in front of them, even though it was really just things in a grid pattern on the ground, or a freestanding door or bell or whatever else it was.
These guys had been in here before, the dungeon recognized, and they were rarely someone to attack. They did kill his first zombie, but they didn't really go crazy like most of the others did most of the time. 'Eh, maybe I'll actually give you something', he thought to himself.
The one that wasn't really doing anything reached down, and was about to pick up Giant's shirt that had writing on it, but both of the people with torches hit the gelfling. A lot of shouting between everybody happened, and then one of them said something calmly. They started to make their way back to the thwomp, but when they got to it, it just glared at them and wouldn't budge.
One of the gelflings then said something, getting annoyance out of most of the other four. The group then turned their back to the thwomp, and started talking again. They started to much more slowly investigate the dirt wall that had been replaced with shitty wood with a bad and flaking paint job, and they got to where the one zombie was just standing there next to the bell tower.
They surrounded it, brandished their weapons, and waited for it to do something. It didn't. Seeing nothing, they started beating and stabbing it, even hitting it with their torches! It collapsed almost immediately.
'Hey! You', the dungeon screamed for its other zombie in the area. 'Avenge that zombie!'
It stopped clawing at the ground, and rushed the group of Exterminators, grossly outnumbered, out-armored, out-weaponed, out-trained, and just overall out-classed. It barely lasted longer than the other zombie.
One of the gelflings kicked the dead zombie, and said something. One of the other ones replied. The group moved to the thwomp, and then the group started arguing about something.
One of them broke from the group and started walking along the dirt wall that had the secret hole to Giant Squisher's core. They didn't move the shelving, and kept walking along. They stood in front of the Research Room Entrance Exit Door. Giant stood there behind them, watching.
One of the other gelflings walked through him, and the little person shuddered and said something, spinning around and waving his torch. It didn't matter to the dungeon, and he didn't even feel it, though it did pass through his imaginary image of himself.
A couple of the group members were talking to the door-watching one, who said something. They opened the door.
One of the delvers said something, and holding his weapon in front of him, walked in. The others followed one by one.
Giant walked through its door itself, and found himself in the cave room like the gelflings did. The group was now saying something to each other. One of them started yelling.
The yelly one looked at the open door, and pointed at it, continuing to yell.
The dungeon watched the group bicker, before one of them silenced everyone, and forced the entire party to follow him out of the dungeon.
'Okay, well that was fun. What was I trying to do? Oh yeah, finish the zombie hole thing for... oh, right. Right, right. Then if that works I'll do it for them too.'
He made his way back to the Forge Room, with the different thwomps getting out of the way as necessary, and filled the hole with the modified corpse. When he did so, he got a prompt. Whether it was a message straight into his mind, or an incoming instant message from the perspective of the phone instead of someone holding a phone while looking at the messenger app, he still wasn't sure.
[Special Construction discovered: Furry Gelfling Grave]
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
[Furry Gelfling Grave added to Research Queue.]
'That would be boring. Expedite that! I wanna do stuff with it.'
He watched as the dirt he just spawned to complete the project started moving, and a hand with too much finger hair clawed its way up out of the ground, followed by the rest of the new creature.
The dirt it crawled through collapsed back into an unbroken state as it rose and the dirt fell off of the nearly platemail-quality matted fur growing from all of its limbs, joints, torso, and neck- but not on its face or throat. The zombie it started as already had matted hair, and so the top of its head was unchanged from the effects of the upgrade it had been given before it gained animation. The matted hair that it did have didn't act as the unhealthiest armor possible like its fur did, though.
'Your name is Smith, and I need a blacksmith, so that's what you do. I don't have a proper hammer, so you'll just have to make one. I guess. I don't know, I think cavemen had axes. That's good enough, right? Ugh, I'm just talking to myself after all. I think. Anyway, use this. If other metal comes into this room, then you should make something out of it. How about swords? There's that sword that the nice woman donated awhile ago. You should be able to make a copy. Oh yeah, the tool. Right, here.'
The dungeon breathed out again, and a rusty head of a small sledgehammer appeared on the ground next to the new monster.
'Actually, take this too', he thought as another sledgehammerhead appeared. 'Wait, why don't you try to smoosh these together?' A pile of duplicates of his old housekey appeared on the ground next to the rest of the metal.
Giant Squisher walked away, leaving its untrained blacksmith alone with its badly unusable tool and a cold forge. Instead of completing the room's effectiveness, he found his way back into the Storage Room, looking at his zombie that had been killed. 'System! Whenever something dies and it has a respawner, just teleport its body and whatever other crap I gave it into its grave so it can regenerate. That's a thing, right? If I can spawn a new one, I can fix a broken one! But you don't have a respawner. So...' he didn't bother finishing his sentence.
Instead, he breathed out, making a new headstone with vague writing too worn to be read appear. He got down on his knees and prepared to start digging, and then realized something.
--------- a plantation at the Treesedge side of Plainsheart ---------
Melisande's eyes lit up, and her posture looked a little feral, but she wasn't aware of it. The old man repeated himself. "Please, you deserve something for all the help you've given me and my family over the last week. We didn't ask the Church for that level of care."
She accepted the large bottle she needed to use both hands to carry, said her goodbyes, and walked somewhat awkwardly as she went back home with the prize that should keep her contained for at least a few days. If it was good stuff and not just a lot of it, then it would last even longer.
--------- Giant Squisher Storage Room ---------
The dog creature not having moved for awhile was more than enough for Giant to call forth the zombie holding the sock. It was mining the ground with what looked like a sword with a broken wooden board solidly fused through it. It wasn't a pickaxe, but it was being used as one anyway.
It didn't take too long for the zombie to dig out a hole that the dungeon considered to be good enough for the zombie grave, and he had the animated dead dump the corpse of the other zombie into the hole. Spawning dirt to replace the dirt automatically stored in the dungeon's air didn't take but a moment, just as the other times he did so.
'Leave the tool and take your weapon back. Go keep guard over my core', he said to the walking corpse. It left the Storage Room and made its way back to where it was meant to be.
Giant looked at where the dirt had been filled back in, and thought something to himself. 'You know, it would be creepier if not all the graves had headstones. Never know where a zombie will come up. Heh, yeah, that's a good idea. Might be really useful later!'
Upon having that thought, a message appeared in his perspective.
[Special Construction: Gelflng Grave discovered.]
[Gelfling Grave added to Research list.]
Giant remembered he was watching something before, or maybe not watching. Playing? There was something he was seeing happen in front of him, that part he remembered at least. He lost his train of thought, and told himself he'd remember it later.
He went into the Research Room, and looked at one of his other dead zombies. 'I'm pretty sure I can make another respawner to get you working again. I don't need it researched, right?'
He breathed out, imagining just a plot of dirt that wasn't as dense as the rest of the ground, with a zombie crawling out of it. Instead of that happening, he had trouble keeping the imaginary image in his mind, random partial thoughts getting in the way. He started coughing, and gave up. 'Okay, well, if I wanna have a stable workforce, I need more mana. Those little guys being in here seems to help that, so I guess I need to call them. I wonder how?'
--------- an alleyway in Mountainthrone ---------
The lesser noble hid in between some barrels in an alley. It smelled horrible, but it wasn't too much worse than where he usually slept. He hadn't been able to eat much for weeks, the servants clearing the hall faster than he could get there to pilfer something here or there. But today, today he'd get something.
He saw the wheeled cart be dragged forward, and a partially rotten ball of a leafy vegetable fell off onto the ground. One of the guards walking along with the cart picked it up and put it back. The lesser noble watched, and salivated.
He moved where people weren't really looking, or couldn't see from the wider roads, while avoiding open windows. The cart stopped in front of a somewhat average-sized building. A wagon guard knocked on its door, and an angry-looking woman opened it and appeared.
It wasn't that the lesser noble was too far to hear, it was that neither of the two spoke to each other. The woman gave a look and went back inside. Almost right away, a swarm of adults burst out of the door, crowding around the cart, pulling the cloth off the donation and picking at things.
The lesser noble went out from his hiding place, acting as the crowd did, but he also saw someone else that had been doing much the same appear from behind a pile of broken wooden things next to the building.