Calista fell into black nothingness until she landed with a bone shattering crunch. That’s it. I’m dead. However, as she watched and waited her death screen did not appear. For a long minute the only sound was her shallow breathing as her H.U.D blinked red, then orange, then red again, and then a deeper red. She was critically wounded, possibly dying. However, the screen did not turn gray. Gray meant death. That meant a fade to black. That meant she would have to log out and hit up the group chat for a rescue and resurrection party. Something she had never had to ask for. Oh, she had died before, but it had always been in the presence of a raiding party or somewhere she could just respawn. Her best death, she thought, had been during a raid on Shinbadu where, in an effort to protect her party’s backline, had found herself holding off one, not two, but three different orc fighters and had not noticed the knoll sneaking up behind her with an enchanted fauchard*. She could still remember her disappointment as she looked down at the blade sticking out of her chest. The raid had failed shortly thereafter and they had all respawned back at Port Hollow.

This, however, was not a raid. There was no respawn point here. She had no party and no cleric. There was only her Voorlock and a mage she had lost in a room full of half-naked women. She tried to move but her character didn’t budge. She tried to look around, but the only things she could see were darkness and the throbbing red of her H.U.D.

Then the sound of stone grinding against stone. The dungeon is shifting again, she realized. The noise grew louder until it sounded like a dozen millstones moving everywhere at once. The first time she had seen it, it had almost been cool, but now she was just frustrated and tired. It seemed that every time she thought she was making progress in this dungeon, things shifted and everything changed. This morphic dungeon mechanic is overpowered and out of control. She had never written to Concept before, but this experience was beginning to wear on her. There should really be a cap on how many times this guy can do this. She waited until the sound of the stones moving finally stopped and then she checked her H.U.D to see if Calista was still alive. She was. Maybe now I can move.

She could, but only her left arm, and even that just barely. She took the opportunity to down a few healing potions and then listened as her character’s limbs, tendons, muscles, and bones all snapped back into place. Gods that sounds terrible. I would never cut it as a real adventurer. If I was a real adventurer, I’d be curled up in a ball and crying right now, not thinking of writing a letter of complaint to a gaming company.

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However, she knew she wasn’t wrong. As far as Concept’s bottom line went, their dungeon creator had been a smashing success. An hour after its initial rollout, Sable Unlimited’s dungeon creator had been trending on every social media. However, this idea of a morphic dungeon was not tenable as it was right now. It put too much power in the hands of the dungeon master. It was unbalanced.

Her list of complaints was long. First and foremost were the glamours. She had never seen so many of these things. Just how was she supposed to beat a dungeon where the owner could spy on her every step? Then there was the morphic quality on top of that. Just how was she supposed to get anywhere in a dungeon where the dungeon master could change the layout whenever he wanted?

And all of that was to say nothing of a dungeon populated by everything from dragons to trolls to kobolds to whatever a Robert was. She had never created a dungeon herself, but she knew there was supposed to be some kind of point-buy system to keep the creator in check. She had never seen a dungeon so dense with traps, mishaps, monsters, distractions, puzzles, and horror. Just how many points did this guy have? And how did he get so many of them?

Perhaps I’m just frustrated because of Blake. Her fiance had stood her up for the third time tonight. They were long distance now and it felt like it was getting complicated. Two years ago, they had met at a work function and hit it off. He had been a manager in their company’s R&D department and she had been blown away by how much he knew. Then six months ago, Blake had taken a job with a company out in California and after several long talks, they had decided to try the long distance thing. At first, this had worked. They had talked regularly and had twice flown to see each other. Once each, him to her and her to him. But lately, they weren’t connecting and when she was being honest with herself, she admitted it was mostly him. He was stalling on her texts and standing her up on the video calls. When they talked about it, he played it off as a scheduling conflict. However, she couldn’t help but ask herself if he was being completely honest.

Tonight was supposed to have been a video call dinner date. Just the two of them catching up. Instead, he had texted that he was working late and so here she was with nothing but her tea, cold pizza, and Sable Unlimited.

*A bladed polearm in use in Europe from the 11th to 17th centuries.