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No Choice - [Dungeon Core Progression Litrpg]
Chapter 2 - Constructed Opposition

Chapter 2 - Constructed Opposition

Martin’s foot tapped a staccato rhythm as he flickered his interface open and closed in nervous irritation. His loose wizard robes hung loosely on his lanky frame, granting him a haggard appearance, which wasn’t alleviated by dark shadows that clung to the underside of his eyes. Despite all that, he was handsome in an aggressive sort of manner. His medium-length raven-black hair was pulled back in a severe bun, which only accentuated his sharp jawline, that Gella, the rogue of their little party, couldn’t seem to look away from.

“So what are you going to do once we get back to Krimta?” James clapped Martin on the back, temporarily pausing the incessant tapping, before it began again.

“What?” Martin said, throwing the tank an annoyed glare.

“I asked what’cha gonna do once we get back to the city?” James repeated with a winning smile that just never seemed to go away. He scooted back to his seat beside Aurora, who was gingerly massaging her tender feet. What kind of fool brings slippers on a hike?

“Dunno, what does it matter?” Martin grumbled, hunching deeper into his cloak despite the warmth of spring suffusing the air. This was one thing about Adventuring parties that he couldn’t stand. The...socializing.

Warning: If you are not reading this story on Royal Road, it has been stolen, and this constitutes copyright infringement. Please contact the author, Flamebeard, on RoyalRoad immediately.

“Well, even so,” James leaned back on his log, patting his slightly rotund belly with a satisfied expression. “We all shared so you can—”

“You wouldn’t care anyway.” Martin interrupted. In an attempt to divert the conversation, he snapped open his interface and acquired the half glazed look that usually had people awkwardly leave him alone. Unfortunately, it didn’t work this time.

“I dunno abou’ them, but I care,” Gella said. She leaned forward, causing her loose halter top — that she somehow considered suitable rogue armor — to dip dangerously. “I’d love to know more about your life.”

Martin suppressed a sneer at her obvious affection, and just barely maintained a neutral countenance. He had bigger problems than misplaced teenage hormones, but it wouldn’t do to alienate this party. It was already hard enough as it stood to get a low level party of adventurers Core hunting. Typically, parties only attempted something like this once they severely outleveled a dungeon, but Martin didn’t have that luxury.

“I don’t know, what does it matter. You already know why I’m here.”

“So we can help you man,” James said, his brows furrowed in concern. “If you’d like any, that is.”

Martin sighed, panning his gaze until his eyes fell on Aurora. Her priest robes had been poorly dyed black. Despite her beautiful, youthful appearance, her expression was permanently marred by a cold frown and for the first time on their adventure, her suspicious eyes were locked directly onto his.

Martin sighed again, rubbing at his tired eyes, dealing with people was just exhausting. He too would be overly suspicious of anything and everything if he had run away from the First Bishop of Krimta. Especially if said Bishop also happened to be his father, but it also meant that the girl was constantly looking for problems where there were none. He didn’t need this right now.

“Fine,” Martin looked up and slapped his knees. His eyes danced between all three party members but lingered longest on Aurora. “You want to know so bad? It’s no great secret. Practically half the population have family enslaved to the church.”

“Servitude,” Aurora said primly. “Slavery was banned in the Turning v. Gellar case over two hundred years ago.”

“Same difference,” he said, unable to contain his disgusted sneer despite how he knew it would ruffle James’ feathers.

“Hey now, no need for hostility,” James chuckled. “We’re just having a friendly chat is all.”

Martin shot James a glance. The man was incorrigible.

“It’s servitude.” Aurora repeated. “Say it.”

“Hey now,” James put a calming hand on the young woman’s shoulder, ignoring or oblivious to how the blushing daisy cowered at his touch. Whatever was going on there was not worth the effort as far as Martin was concerned. “So, what? Your brother is serving with the church and you want money to buy his bond?”

“Sister,” Martin said through gritted teeth.

“Right, and that’s why we’re all going to that young dungeon?”

“And why he took that banned class,” Aurora set her bowl down on a stone with a solid click, derision thick in her voice.

“It’s not banned—” James started only to be silenced by Aurora’s harsh glance.

“It’s dangerous,” she snorted.

“I think it’s romantic,” Gella sighed. “Challenging the church and risking it all like the heroes in the stories. Just wait until you return to Krimta and they up the price, so you have to spirit her away and we’ll all have escape the Inquisition together...”

Aurora blanched and spun on the rogue with fire in her eyes.

Martin watched the argument escalate in dismay. How had everything gone wrong so fast. One moment his planned party was, not perfect, but functional, and the next they had devolved into bickering fools. Not only did they stop walking early because Aurora was a pretty little princess, but now it looked like they were going to disband before they even managed to get to a dungeon in the first place.

The earth shook, cracks and detonations in the distance scattering birds and silencing the small adventuring party. Each member’s gaze snapped to the north, silently absorbing the gentle aftershocks that rippled through the earth. A long moment later, silence returned to the young forest and the birds settled back on their branches.

“What in Deia’s name was that.” James was the first to react. His shield was raised towards the perceived threat, and his normally jovial expression was replaced by a mute seriousness that spoke of his time with the Krimta Guard.

“Earthquake,” Gella replied seriously, earning her a sardonic glare from Aurora.

“Pure genius,” Aurora drawled. “What caused the earthquake?”

“The mana flows have changed,” Martin murmured.

“What you think a ley line burst?”

“Or a new dungeon spawned,” Martin replied, a grin bloomed on his face as he realized the possibilities. “If it spawned just now, then it’ll be level one. We won’t get a better chance at clearing it than now!”

“Impossible,” Aurora snorted. “What? You think a Kobold hit the ground with a club to cause the earthquake?”

“No,” Martin retorted, feeling his face redden.

“So it’s a leyline rupture.”

“I’m telling you, there is a new dungeon nearby. The mana flows don’t lie, and the earthquake could have been caused by the dungeon itself.”

“Listen to yourself,” Aurora sighed, and sat back down, arranging her stained robes artfully on her lap. “Dungeons are mindless, soulless, evil automata, that the Blessed Deia generously rewards us for destroying. If it wasn’t a ley line rupture, then the only thing that could have caused an earthquake of that magnitude was a monster you don’t have a hope of handling.”

Martin gritted his teeth hard enough that he felt something give in his mouth. There were accounts of class upgrades coming from actions other than destroying a dungeon core, of course. Exclusively those accounts involved killing a unique, legendary, intelligent monster. Church dogma was utterly ridiculous in its blindness.

“Martin, sit.” James said, stowing his shield on his back and sheathing his sword once he determined that there was no imminent threat. “Tomorrow we will scout out the distu—”

“And risk our—”

“Aurora.” James growled, for the first time letting a frown darken his brow. “We are a team, and we will make decisions as a team. Gella, what is your analysis?”

Gella took a moment to scan the trees, then turned to the burly tank. “It could be a dungeon, though if it is a large monster, then it’s underground. The birds wouldn’t have returned to their branches otherwise.”

“Thank you,” James nodded, holding up a restraining finger as Aurora opened her mouth. “Now that all members have contributed their piece, here is my verdict. Our mage feels a dungeon, and our scout says it’s safe, so in the morning we will investigate the area and report back to the Guard.”

“And what if it is a Dungeon Break?” Aurora spat out. “You would trust your life to a...a necromancer?”

“I do trust Martin with my life, Aurora.” James smiled, his usual cheer returning. “As I do with you. You are both valued members of our team. And it is not just Martin I trust. Our lovely scout deemed the situation safe, so safe it is. We will investigate this disturbance, with utmost care, and report back to the Guard. If it’s a ruptured ley line, so be it. Otherwise, we could all use some of the spoils of a dungeon, don’t you think?”

James sat down, and a grudging silence descended upon the camp. None of the others seemed willing to challenge the forced peace, and it was hard to argue with the words of such a gentle giant. In the quiet, Martin flickered on his interface, taking comfort in the rigid gold letters of his chosen class.

>

Tomorrow they would head out to investigate the disturbance, and when it turned out to be a brand new dungeon then he would reach its core and shatter it. No matter the cost.

In the quiet of the evening, the haggard young Necromancer’s foot finally settled.

----------------------------------------

Night had fallen, and dawn had arrived, though I didn’t sleep. Turns out I didn’t need any, which was nice. Weird, but nice.

There was something utterly tantalizing about the sky in this new world. Back home, it was always there. Uninteresting by virtue of repetition. Knowing what the sun or moon looked like was never a question as I had known for as long as I could remember. The night sky could be brilliant on a cloudless, smokeless night, or now and then an eclipse would paint the sky red, but the existence of the internet meant there was never any opportunity for curiosity to build.

Here though. The curiosity was building to a boil.

It was such a simple question: how many suns were there? It was a fantasy world. Surely there was more than one, right? Maybe even two or three of different colors that rose and set in tandem?

I couldn’t just...check. It was maddening.

I assumed one, because that was what I was familiar with, but there were observations that brought that into question. The shadows on my bare cliff face seemed to come from one direction at times, but not always. Was that because the clouds partially blocked or refracted the light, or did shadows always look like that and I just never noticed?

All that was to say, I had plenty of time to ruminate during the long hours of the night as I tried to avoid looking at the three hideous, spiky, one-eyed Nothic aimlessly wandering my halls.

Instead I spent my time crafting, all good dungeons needed a source of loot after all.

I began with attempting to make stone armor. A shit material for armor, but I wasn’t exactly spoiled for choice. Fortunately, my nearly omnipotent control of stone was just as powerful as it had initially seemed. There were some growing pains as I got used to manipulating vast quantities of rock, and detail work was harder, but I was rapidly improving. Writing was truly difficult as getting each letter neat and steady seemed to strain the limits of my abilities.

Instead of getting frustrated, I took that as a perfect source of practice. I covered my walls with random phrases. Practicing and getting better at manipulating stone in preparation for crafting my first item.

I persevered and when I deemed myself ready, I switched to carving out a stone breastplate from the stone.

< You have crafted >

My domain rippled in surprise as the system recognized my achievement. Then I giggled in amusement. Instead of a snarky, witty, or overly descriptive system, mine was just stupid.

I put thoughts of the nature of the system out of my mind and focused on my breastplate.

Armor

Level 2

+9 life

The piece was probably horribly impractical to use due to its weight, but it seemed that it would provide nine life upon use. The interface reminded me of the box that appeared when I identified my crystal.

Consumable Artifact

Level 2

+11 life

Changes maximum level to 14

The differences were few but there were two stark differences. One. I was a consumable artifact instead of armor. That didn’t bode well for my first encounter with anything that could do some consuming, and I had no idea what an artifact was, other than presumably it meant I was rare or valuable. Second. I had a line of text which said that I would change the maximum level of whatever consumed me to fourteen. That was interesting as it implied that people were level limited in this world. It also implied that perhaps I could one day add additional effects to armor that I created.

Thoughts for later when I got more information. I dismissed the notification and followed that up by creating a sword.

< You have crafted >

Weapon

Level 2

+11 life

Life? On a weapon?

Deeply confused I attempted to make a helmet, but this time, as I was finalizing it, I imagined using it as a bludgeoning tool.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

< You have crafted >

Weapon

Level 2

+10 life

This was a really odd behavior as far as I was concerned. It seemed that the shape of an object was irrelevant, and that the only thing that mattered to the system was whether I considered the object a weapon or armor. That led me to another idea.

< You have crafted >

Consumable

Level 2

+9 life

I casually crushed pair of stone boots into rubble as I remembered how entirely unhelpful this system was. I knew nothing, and could only proceed via half baked guesses.

Presumably, the consumable pair of stone boots — how such an object could be consumed was beyond me — would heal for nine life rather than increase maximum life by nine, which was what I assumed the weapons and armor did. Secondly, it was possible that all the gear granted life because of the material that produced it, though I found it hard to believe considering how the system seemed to interact with intent. Plus, I had no other materials at the present moment, which made it a moot point, anyway. Third, all the gear I created was suspiciously at the same level as myself, which meant...

< You have crafted >

Weapon

Level 1

+8 life

...that I could control the level of my craft with a little bit of intent, as long as the craft was less than or equal to my own level. Finally, the level of the item determined the rough range of the stats granted but the actual amount was out of my control. It was surprisingly obtuse for a system that should — by my estimation — be simplistic.

Regardless, I naturally tried to force one of my new ugly minions to wear some stone, but the effect apparently didn’t work on them. Perhaps because they weren’t human? Was that racist? Speciest?

Sigh.

Speaking of my minions.

The gnarly buggers were bipedal in the technical sense. Two arms, and two legs attached to a torso at roughly the same positions of a person, if said person just so happened to be a horribly twisted hunchback. The hands were clawed, missing a finger and huge compared to their bodies. Their skin was generally a muddy brown, though each individual Nothic had a different speckling of oranges, pinks, and reds across their stomachs.

Their legs were digitigrade — with that weird backwards facing knee that cats had — and they walked in a shifty sort of way as if they were constantly on their way to burglarize a nice suburban home. Combined with their perpetually hunched backs covered in horrific spines completed the image of a deranged human experiment gone wrong.

Their most defining characteristic, however, was their single cyclops eye that dwarfed a tiny thin slit of a mouth sporting misaligned teeth. Unlike their skin, the eye was uniformly a toxic green on all three of the delightful specimens, and it tended to dart around like the creatures were in a perpetual state of nervousness.

Oh and I couldn’t control them at all. They didn’t interact at all with my domain, so they didn’t affect my manipulation in the slightest, but I swear they had only a couple braincells shared between them. The monstrosities aimlessly wandered my halls — presumably looking for prey — with no regard for room boundaries. The dumb little creatures had even attempted leaving through my entranceway at one point. They had fallen and burst to dust upon hitting the edge of my domain.

That was a learning experience, but a guardrail had forstalled any future incidents.

I was naturally not entirely happy with the upgrade. Not because they were hideous, though I suppose if I wasn’t looking down at them like a literal god I would be more scared. It also wasn’t because I only had three of them, instead of four or five. It was the principle of the thing. I had chosen Shock Wisps, and maybe that had been a dumb uninformed choice, but it was my choice, damnit! Having the interface randomly lock up on me, then give me a random upgrade was the height of rudeness.

On the bright side. The skill itself was a joy to use. Not only did it allow me to summon the creatures anywhere in my domain, but once summoned, it allowed me to inspect them and get a convenient stat sheet.

Naturally, I experimented some and learned that — like crafted items — I could summon two different types of Nothic.

The first:

Nothic

Level: 1

Level Acquired: 1

Life: 131/131

Resistances: None

Rend: 9-20 Physical Damage

Rotting Gaze: 3-8 Chaos Damage

And the second:

Nothic

Level: 2

Level Acquired: 1

Life: 146/146

Resistances: None

Rend: 12-26 Physical Damage

Rotting Gaze: 5-10 Chaos Damage

The level of the creatures directly increased all their base stats, though I still had no idea how that compared to sentients out in the wild. Like crafting, the process didn’t involve entering a number into the interface and was more of a gut feeling. Still, it was fairly intuitive, and didn’t cause me any trouble. Perhaps at later levels I would have trouble creating a Nothic at level seventy instead of seventy-one, but for now it worked well.

Not that there was any benefit to using a lower leveled Nothic. It still counted towards my creature cap the same, and the cooldown of the skill was identical regardless of the level at which I summoned the creature.

The second benefit of this detailed inspect skill was that it gave me insight into my summons abilities. From their behavior, the ugly muffins appeared to be ambush predators of a sort, always skulking and looking for a perfect opportunity to strike. Except...that didn’t align with their stone like skin or their meaty stats.

Given the low damage of their two abilities relative to their life, I had to assume that either these creatures hit like a wet noodle, or were just extremely tanky by nature. It took until a small lightning salamander to wander into my cave for me to confirm the latter of the two. The triplet of Nothics independently found the salamander and spent nearly an hour stalking the poor guy with these lazy half lidded eyes through my halls. It was only when it approached my core did my minions pounce.

The salamander was eviscerated in short order, and...left to rot. It had managed a single lightning strike, but that had only done fifteen damage to one of my Nothics.

That taught me four things. First: Nothics don’t regenerate. Or if they do, it is over hours or days, and by that point I could just resummon a fresh Nothic. Second, they have animalistic intelligence at best. Third, they could control their [Rotting Gaze] skill by half shutting their eye, and didn’t employ it against a salamander for some reason clearly too sophisticated for my puny human brain. And fourth, despite their aversion towards direct combat, the spiky little pinecones would defend their mama if necessary.

So with all of that in mind...I built my dungeon.

Before I was even close to completion, the humans came.

< Mana: 5/89 >

< Mana: 9/89 >

----------------------------------------

“Report,” James said.

“It’s a dungeon alright and young enough not to have learned how to make light,” Gella drawled, leaning up against a tree as she crossed her arms. “No idea what caused the earthquake, and my skills are telling me that this dungeon does not contain any ‘big game’.”

She made air quotes at the end, a small smirk on her lips.

“The dungeon is set halfway up a cliff, but it shouldn’t be to difficult to get up with a rope, but...” She trailed off, some trepidation in her expression.

“Out with it,” Aurora snapped.

“Well, it has a guardrail at the entrance to the tunnel.”

“So?”

“You sure?” James rumbled, to which Gella nodded. “It means that the dungeon isn’t as young as we would like. It’s had some contact with humans. Architecture. That’s not the type of thing that you can just bring to a remote place like this.”

“Its young,” Martin persisted. “It can’t be above level five. The mana flo—”

“Blah, blah,” Aurora rolled her eyes. “We get it already.”

James placed a calming hand on Aurora’s shoulder which had the opposite effect and smiled at Martin. “Don’t worry, we will still check it out, but if it has encountered architecture it may have encountered tactics, and that is a little above our paygrade.”

James chuckled heartily, and the party set out for the dungeon. The entrance was a half dozen meters up the side of a relatively sheer cliff, but luckily the slope wasn’t overhung and with the help of several ropes tied to the guardrail and a judicious amount of cursing, the party made it to the entrance.

“Bah, I hate dark dungeons,” Aurora said, peering into the yawning entrance.

“Lights,” James intoned, raising his shield. A second later two bright white light sources daintily jittered up to float above them, and Aurora’s palms pulsed a steady golden glow.

“Wait, I see runes on the wall.” James said, holding a fist up.

“Yeah, I saw those too,” Gella said. “They are everywhere inside, but they aren’t traps and don’t feel magical to me.”

“Martin?” James prompted.

“Not magical. Though this writing reminds me of elvish.”

“Alright, on me.”

James stepped into the dark tunnel finding the wall quickly opening up to reveal a medium sized circular chamber with two dozen stone pillars spaced haphazardly throughout the room and whose tips vanished into the darkness of the tall ceiling. What appeared to be half complete runes circled some of the pillars, but not others. There was no reason or organization to the room, giving it a natural cave-like quality.

“Medium room, sightlines limited. Huddle.” James whispered, shuffling forward.

Pus filled blisters exploded out of Aurora’s face. She hissed in pain and surprise as her flesh rotted in sheets of slime soaked viscera.

“Retreat!” James roared, bodily jumping onto the small priest and herding the whole party back to the entrance.

“What hit us?” Martin asked once they were safely back on the surprisingly picturesque balcony.

“Nothing hit me,” Gella quickly said. “I’m full. Are you ok?”

“Whatever it was, targeted Aurora, then hit me when I covered her.” James said. “How much damage did you take?”

“Twenty two chaos damage,” Aurora winced, then a pulse of golden light washed over her and she sighed in relief as her perfect skin reformed underneath the layers of rot.

Martin narrowed his eyes, frowning. “Don’t waste your heals.”

“Shut up,” Aurora snapped back.

“Friends...” James cajoled. “Gella, did you see anything?”

“No, too dark, too many pillars.”

“It’s not a biome effect?”

Martin shook his head. “We are in untyped terrain.”

“So its some sort of invisible monster.”

“That is most definitely not something found in young dungeons.” Aurora said, roughly wiping the pus and body fluids stuck to her face with a look that could freeze hell over.

“Oh, come off it, it could just as easily be a basic stealth type.” Martin retorted, much to Gella’s chagrin.

“Friends,” James intoned, his missing smile doing more to silence the two than his tone. “Aurora, shield Gella. Gella scout ahead, we need more information.”

A pulse of golden light rushed to cover the scout, who immediately activated a skill and blurred forward. Her steps tapped silently on the smooth stone as she ran several laps around the room. Cracks formed in the shield, as she drew her sword and began blindly slashing the air on the off chance her detection skill was being out-stealthed.

Her shield shattered in a burst of triangular golden fragments and Gella jumped into the tunnel on the far side of the chamber. Instantly the insidious chaos damage over time vanished.

Gella rubbed at her arm, as she scanned the room with trepidation. She pulled out a small bracelet and with an effort of will had the artifact begin emitting a steady red light. She grimaced as the tunnel around her took on a bloody cast, but there was not much she could do about it. It sucked being broke.

With one last look at the room, Gella crouched down, pulled her hood over her head and began carefully stalking onwards. Her form blurred further as her body seemed to meld with the stone around her. The tunnel twisted and turned just enough to block sightlines, then opened up into a jagged jungle gym of broken stone spikes jutting from the walls.

Gella stared wide eyed at the madness inducing mess of shattered stone and noted that the chamber had a significant degree of verticality. Suddenly she spotted a smooth stone chest growing out of the underside of one of the stone spikes and her inspection came to a grinding halt.

“Its so totally trapped.” Gella whispered to herself, then bit her lip. “Totally trapped.”

She stepped forward with the utmost care. When nothing happened she took another step. Her gut clenched as she felt the Dungeon Presence intensify, and she froze but the hidden chaos damage over time didn’t appear. She gulped then pushed forward until she stood underneath the chest.

She crouched there for the count of one hundred and when still nothing attacked, she carefully pointed a glowing yellow finger at the chest. A yellow ripple washed over the front of the chest, and Gella sighed in relief. Eager, she leaned forward and popped open the lid.

Inside, three ornate stone bottles carved with intricate filigree sat side by side on the bottom of the chest.

Gella pursed her lip, but pocketed the three rocks and straightened. She briefly bowed and whispered a thanks, then quickly returned back to the the tunnel. She settled back into her stealth and took a step into the first room and immediately began taking damage. She cursed again, and sprinted forward, activating her favorite skill which caused her to blur through the room like a phantom.

A second later she stood panting in front of the rest of her party.

“Report.”

“Can’t find whatever is dealing the DOT, and the second room is this terrifying mess of shattered stone. It would be hell to fight in there, though I found a chest.” She held out the three ornate stone potions.

(AN: DOT stands for damage over time)

“Stone consumables.” Aurora sneered. “What a waste of time.”

“The alchemists could extract the efficacy from these,” James pursed his lips. “Eventually.”

“This proves it, the dungeon is super young. It only has access to stone and one creature type.” Martin said. “Let’s go, there is no way that it has anything beyond this room.”

“Uhm, you’re probably right, but the next room is kinda scary.”

“But nothing attacked you?”

“No.”

“And no DOT?”

“No, but I was stealthed.”

“And we have James!” Martin exclaimed. “There is nothing here! Literally nothing that can bring down a level seven tank.”

“Martin.”

“No, James. This is our chance, We won’t get another chance like this. Dungeons only get stronger. Especially for recurring adventures. That’s the number one rule.”

“Martin, no! Martin. Listen. Use your head.” James shook his head. “There are too many unknowns, and whatever the dungeon is using in this first chamber is preferentially targeting our healer. We are out of one heal, one shield and all but one of us can’t survive crossing the first chamber in good condition.”

“Useless! If you won’t go in, then I will do it myself!” Martin snarled, turning down the tunnel before one of the tanks meaty arms grabbed his shoulder.

“Hold your horses, Martin,” James said. “We will put it to a vote, who wants to continue?”

Martin immediately raised a hand, shortly after followed by a hesitant Gella.

Aurora opened her mouth to retort, but a raised hand by James sent her cowering.

“Martin, I am willing to run this dungeon on one condition. That we leave, recover cooldowns, and craft some chaos resistance gear. Is that alright Aurora?”

The small priest nodded silently, as her eyes shifted to the sides.

“Martin?”

Martin looked longingly down the tunnel, then sighed and nodded.

----------------------------------------

Oops. That was a mistake.

Though to be fair to me, how was I supposed to know that four humans would completely lock down my manipulation ability throughout my entire dungeon. I hadn’t really meant to have my three Nothics fused to the ceiling by the time adventurers arrived, but I hadn’t had the time to bring them down before I understood what the massive distortion on the edge of my domain meant.

I had locked them up there mostly because they kept wandering into my second room where I was still building and I found them distracting. Then I had fused a mask of stone to their face to force their eye to stay open because they kept blinking in distress and it made this weird wet shlicking sound that triggered the crap out of me.

Whatever, it worked. And the adventurers didn’t look up, which was hilarious and totally worth it. Honestly, the team seemed fairly nice, if a little gun shy and completely lacking any party unity, but otherwise I would love to have them over again.

Oh yes.

That would be simply splendid.

...

Oh, yes. They were excellent visitors. The Rogue was great, literally running laps around the first room, and then using that last skill at the end which had netted me twelve whole mana all on its own. Not to mention skinny mage kid who tapped his foot for the entire duration. The tank was kinda fun to listen to, which made up for how the cleric had the most annoying high pitched voice I had ever heard.

And that was saying something.

Unfortunately they hadn’t recognized english which was...problematic. On the one hand I was sort of glad that they couldn’t read it, because the random gibberish on my walls would certainly label me as mad if they could interpret it. On the other hand, it meant I would have to come up with some other way of interfacing with the humans.

Speaking of interfacing, I eagerly pulled up my interface but then sighed. My good mood dampened as I randomly slapped at my three potential upgrades with no response.

Delectable Consumables:

Crafted consumables regenerate an additional 0.5% of maximum life over 2 minutes upon use

Tough Armor:

+1 to maximum level of crafted armor

Create Shadow Source:

Create a source attuned to shadow

720 minute cooldown

Bah, I dismissed the window and dismissed one of my distressed level two Nothics and summoned a level three variant.

Nothic

Level: 3

Level Acquired: 1

Life: 177/177

Resistances: None

Rend: 17-36 Physical Damage

Rotting Gaze: 7-14 Chaos Damage

Oh, boy. They really do get a lot stronger with each level.