Delirium. Fading snippets of consciousness scarcely flashed, and Deacon couldn’t contextualize what he was seeing. After being overtaken by monsters, there was a moment when he saw blood everywhere. Then, there was a large humanoid monstrosity, covered in scales and spikes, and it was clawing through the pig rats. In his last reprieve from his blackout, it seemed he was being dragged. Deacon’s sense of time slipped away from him before he awoke, seeming both instant and as though ages had passed. He was in a concrete room, lying on a pad on the floor, with a blanket over him. On turning his head, he found Bones facing him. Bones was leaned back, in a relaxed position.

“I can’t tell if your, uh, eyes are open,” Deacon commented, attempting to break the ice.

“I don’t sleep,” Bones told him. “How are you feeling?”

Deacon took an inventory. “I feel… why am I naked?”

“You were torn to ribbons. We got you back to the goblins and I fixed you right back up. Don’t bother with modesty, it’s all skin to me.”

Deacon felt crushing emotions bubbling up. Bones somehow gave an expectant look, prompting him to speak up. “Thank you. I’m such a screw-up for getting beat back there. I’m holding you all back.”

“Heh. No, you aren’t, Deac. The only reason we didn’t have your back down there is because Marla went down first, we were busy trying to save her. That shit was too much for all of us.”

“Is she okay?!”

“I put all of her squishy parts back in the right place, she’s already up and bouncing around somewhere.”

Right on cue, Marla burst into the room in her undergarments, swinging her weapon around. “Freaky Deaky! Buddy you’ve gotta check this shit out!” She then held her weapon up, and the saw teeth that were usually on one side grew along the rest of the blade, then rapidly moved too fast to be visible. “Chainsaw, bitches! Hell yeah! We all just leveled up to tier two! Try meditating, you probably will, too. You killed so many of those things. You were awesome out there, just blasting away, like brrrrrrrrrrr.”

She was energized in a way Deacon had trouble coping with. “Um, Marla, you know you’re in your underwear, right,” Deacon reminded.

“Oh who cares, dude, I saw your balls and everything. Who do you think brought you the blanket?

“You— wha— thank you?”

“Of course, Deaky, the least I could do for almost getting you killed.”

“You didn’t, I choked back there. Wait, who else saw me naked?”

Marla laughed. “Oh, you mean like Sonnet?” she teased. “Everyone did, I guess. I wouldn’t worry about it, it was a dire situation. Everyone saw me naked, too. No big. Like half of the goblins down here just walk around with their titties out.”

Bones sighed, standing and retrieving a cup. “I regret giving this to Marla, because you may notice it turns her batty, but she’s also just kind of like that. You should drink this, it helps with focus.” He held out a cup with streaming black liquid that looked like death but had a pleasantly earthy smell to it.

“What is it?”

“It’s called coffee,” Bones answered. “Drink up. Doctor’s orders.”

Deacon cautiously sipped at the hot drink. It was bitter and tasted somewhat like dirt. Marla responded to his displeased face, saying, “it gets better. I’ll have it if you don’t want it, though.”

“You’re cut off,” Bones snapped.

Deacon sipped more, and the two left him. He had to admit that by the end of the cup, he did find something about it pleasing. He collected himself, breathed deeply, and began to meditate. Soon, his personal space formed around him. It was serene. He looked down at the pool of stars, and found a new one rising, until it merged with his existing one, expanding it. He had reached tier two. He focused and summoned an illustration of his attributes. He’d given his own names to each of the attributes, and his personal space gave labels to them based on what he’d called them. There was hardiness, muscle, heart/core, recovery, and mind power. Mystic energy began bolstering them, and Deacon used his will to distribute it more to his liking. He gave the largest boost to mind-power, and the least to muscle. Next, he summoned a representation of his abilities. He saw the three spells he was familiar with and options for more. The options were wordless concepts, floating in the ether, waiting for his mind to grab at them. He took one that would passively heal him over time at the cost of a small amount of mana. This was an incredible boon to him if the night before had taught him anything. Many of the other options flickered away when he chose the first one, and he browsed through what was left. He found another that would suit his needs and chose it. This was a projectile spell that shot crystal shards the size of his finger, that curved through the air to hit their target, and critically, avoided hitting allies. After this choice, all of the other options retreated. Deacon was satisfied with his new tier and gently shifted his mental state back to wakefulness.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Feeling renewed, he dressed himself, thankful that his poncho and hat were enchanted for self-repair, and left to find his friends. He found them, discussing the day’s plans. He was struck by the sight of them. He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed before, but seeing them all now, they were an improbable grouping of unusually good-looking people. They seemed to notice his confusion, and so he addressed it. “I might be experiencing a side effect from that coffee.”

“Like what?” Bones asked.

“You all look,” he started, trailing off as he was unsure of how to word it. “Hot.”

There was a shared look; as if they were confused as to why he would state something so obvious. Marla said, “you too, dude.”

“No, actually though,” Deacon reiterated.

“Yes. You, too, Deacon,” Halwark said plainly.

“No, really, you all look…”

“Blessed?” Sonnet guessed.

Then it struck him. “I need to see! Somebody get me a mirror.”

Halwark pulled a simple mirror from his bag and handed it over. Deacon got a look at himself and barely recognized what he saw. His skin was clear and radiant. His proportions had all shifted to be more attractive. He had stubble that had grown in full and nicely shaped, with no awkward patches. He stammered, “why… why didn’t anybody tell me?”

“I guess we thought you knew,” Marla answered. “Haven’t you met people with blessings before?”

“Just once,” Deacon said, still distracted by his own face. “I thought it was a coincidence. I don’t know what to do about this. This is big. I’ve gotta show the people from my village. I can be such an asshole now.”

“Oh, hell,” Sonnet groaned. “Don’t make me beat some ugly into you, you’re no fun when you know what you look like.”

“I’m not worried,” Deacon boasted. “Only a savage would damage a masterpiece.”

Sonnet rolled her eyes, then snapped her fingers. A small creature materialized faster than Deacon could process, and before he knew it, its claw had carved a superficial scratch into his cheek. He touched the cut, then looked up to see the creature sitting on Sonnet’s shoulder. It was some strange breed of imp, with lumpy, multicolored, toad-like skin. Another clear feature it shared with toads was its horizontally slitted pupils.

“Whoa,” Deacon gasped. “What kind of imp is that?”

“Mine. She’s my new familiar.”

“Does she have a name?”

“I don’t know.” Sonnet paused, irritated. “Fluffy.”

“Aw, fluffy,” Deacon praised, not seeing any issue with the name. “Who’s a good girl?” Fluffy only hissed in response. Deacon pondered the oddity that such a breathtakingly beautiful woman had such ugly powers. “Did you summon that big scaly thing last night? I was barely conscious so I don’t remember much.”

“I was that big scaly thing, thank you very much, so watch what you call me.” Deacon doubled down on his confusion about Sonnet’s dual nature.

Halwark finished scribbling something in a leather-bound notebook and looked up to speak. “My friends, I have done some strategizing, as well as speculating. This dungeon gets deadlier with elevation, so it’s likely to house a dungeon seed, which is fairly typical. Dungeon seeds radiate large amounts of raw mana. This chaotic energy modifies reality around it, mutating creatures at far distances, like the beasts we taught last night, and at closer distances even manifesting monsters directly. The further we go, the higher the power of the monsters shall be, with the advantage being higher quantities and qualities of magical treasures, either manifested immaculately or through transfiguring mundane objects.”

“Whoa, there,” Deacon interjected. “Over-explaining simple concepts is basically my whole deal. You can’t just jump into that role, there’s unions involved. I paid my dues.”

Halwark took a moment to study Deacon’s face for signs of humor or real anger, then called his bluff. “A jest! Ha! That’s why I like you, Deacon. So the point is, with sober minds, and our increased power…”

“You’re sober?” Marla quietly commented.

“… we should have a much easier time getting through the first level — should we wish to proceed. Beyond that, I’d wager we could make it another four floors or so, before needing to turn back. Anything further, both the monsters and raw mana would be deadly to a party of our tier. What do we think?”

The party unanimously agreed, expressing eagerness to take their new tiers out for a spin. Everybody was itching for a fight and made their way to the stairs right away. Back down to the bottom of the stairs, the first hallway was already cleared, as Bones left beyond blankets of barbed wire doused in a toxic cocktail. Bones offered a rag of the same solution to Marla as they walked, and she slicked her blade with it.

“What’s in this stuff?” she asked.

“Blood thinners, an anti-clotting agent, a vasodilator, a stimulant that raises blood pressure, and good old fashioned capsaicin. Basically hurts like the clap and makes me bleed like an inbred royal.”

“Bitchin’,” Marla exclaimed.

Bones, moved the barbed wire aside by hand, showing off the benefit of lacking skin, and the first few pig rats fearfully approached. It seemed that enough of the large rodents had bled to death, wailing in pain to traumatize the whole population. The hesitance made them easy prey, and they were quickly annihilated by the group’s collective attacks. The party moved in a triangular formation, with Halwark taking the lead, Deacon and Sonnet in the protected center pocket, and the back corners covered by Bones and Marla. This improvised unit was efficient enough, and they worked together as a deadly force, easily cutting through the swarm like urine through snow. In no time, the room that Deacon feared would be his grave was behind him, and they descended yet another set of stairs.

The stairs opened into a suspiciously empty room. This only hardened the group’s resolve, as an unspoken assumption was made. They all knew that the lack of apparent danger was a trick, and were insulted by the implication that they would fall for it. As if seeing that its bluff was called, a monster sprung into action. A large concrete plate was lifted by the head of the monster, which charged forward at the group. It was a moose-sized beetle, with a large enough horn to gore them all into one kebab. Their only option was to scatter.

Deacon rolled out of the way, enraged with the cheap tactic. This big bastard didn’t know who it was messing with. Now it was time to play.