The first thing I decided had to be done was move what I now knew was my core. The little green shard was basically out in the open, and I didn’t like the idea of someone just walking up to it and having their way with me. Another spider climbed its way out of the spawner as I looked around for a better spot, bringing the total number to 4. I had hoped to find some small nook or perhaps a loose piece of stone I could hide my core behind, but after scouring every inch of every surface of both rooms, I knew that there was really only one choice. I called my spiders, and they lost interest in the moths to stare straight at my place of perception.
[I need my core somewhere less obvious and more defended. I’d like you to come get it, and move it into your cactus.]
The four little creatures hurried down the wall and across the floor to the broken statue, and were soon at the top, staring at my core and unsure of how to proceed.
[Work together,] I urged, [and take your time. We aren’t in an emergency, which means safety takes priority over speed. Don’t worry, I have faith in you.]
The four spiders positioned themselves at ninety degrees from one another, and in my periphery I noticed a fifth spider come out of the spawner, where the word MAX had replaced the timer above it. I refocused my attention on what was actually important as each of the first four spiders used its two front legs to lift my core with care and respect. A little more respect than I had been expecting, actually, but I could address that later. Georg took the most uncomfortable spot in the formation as they started moving, crawling carefully backwards towards the edge of the statue and down the side. The process was excruciating to watch, as I noticed the moths increase in both quantity and activity, while the lone fifth spider walked alongside its brethren to ensure none got close to my core. I became increasingly nervous as the troupe struggled up the wall towards the cactus, until the newest spider switched places with the one across from Georg, and started pulling with more strength and energy, giving the other three the tiny bit of relief they needed to get the little crystal shard the rest of the way up, and wedge it into the cactus’s flesh and spines. All of them flopped down between the spines once the core was secure for a break, and I noticed that while the moths weren’t leaving, they were decidedly less active than they were a few seconds ago.
I decided to investigate, and focused in on one. Instead of a green box like the spiders and their spawner would get, though, this was a dull red box with only a name and designation.
Moth. Invader.
Unsatisfied with the distinct lack of information, I went back to the spawner, and called forth its status box. The little box had also had its timer replaced with the word MAX, but underneath that, the name, and the Scion designation, there was a list of other important data.
Current Green Lynx Spiders: 5
Maximum Green Lynx Spiders: 5
Green Lynx Spider Level: 1
Green Lynx Spider Scion Level: 1
Green Lynx Spider Spawner Level: 1
Upgrades Available
I focused on the Upgrades Available line, and a new menu opened which dominated my perception.
Green Lynx Spider Spawner Upgrades
Increase Spawner Level: Spawner increases in size, allowing more individuals to spawn. Individuals created by this spawner cannot have a level higher than twice the level of the spawner.
Increase Scion Level: Scion increases in power and intelligence. Scion cannot have a level higher than thrice the level of the spawner.
Increase Spawner Speed: New individuals are spawned more quickly.
Increase Spawner Strength: Spawner is more difficult to destroy, and respawns more quickly.
I immediately noticed that the options available lacked any price tags, but decided to increase the spawner level anyway. Five spiders were simply not enough defenders, even for a brand-new dungeon that barely knew what he was doing. I knew in the back of my perception, like an instinct, that my mana pool had drained from the 15 mana I had after my spiders had caught some moths down to 8. I watched my spawner bulge further out of my floor for a few seconds, until the timer reappeared above it, then closed the upgrades menu and focused on opening up a different menu. The Dungeon Menu.
A moment later, a far more complex collection of boxes appeared in front of me. One on the top left was clearly going to be a list of my spawners, but for now there was only one. The one below it listed Sand, then Quarrystone, and the only reasonable conclusion I could come to was that it was a materials list of some kind. On the right, a thin box stretched from top to bottom, and only said Moth x5, which I decided to parse out later. The majority of my perception was dedicated to the enormous center box, though, which held a list of upgrades so long that even though it had two entries per line, there was still a lot of scrolling to be done to look through them all. Fortunately, I found what I was looking for almost immediately.
Show Menu Costs: Reveals costs of all Creatures, Constructions, and Upgrades.
I focused on it with aggravation, and my mana count dropped to 3 as all the other available upgrades suddenly revealed their price tags, then went back up to 5 as my spiders caught a couple more moths. I eyed the rest of the options in my dungeon upgrades, then decided to go back to the spawner. Increasing Georg’s level cost exactly 5 mana, and I didn’t hesitate to pump him up. He grew mid-leap, causing the moth that had dodged his jaws to instead get caught on his leg spines, and a few seconds later, my mana pool returned to 1. I grinned at the 7 spiders that clambered and jumped around the cactus, trying to catch the moths that flitted about, satisfied with simply letting them build up my mana stores again for a while. It was indescribably boring, just waiting around for my pool to tick back up, and I entered some kind of zoned-out trance for a while. It wasn’t the same as when I had been human, where everything is clear to you in the moment, but then you can’t remember what you were doing. It was like sleep, almost, but I knew that I could be brought back to full attention at a moment’s notice. I zoned back into awareness sometime later to find my mana pool sitting at 20, and my statue room much less full of moths. Georg the Scion had gotten just a little bigger, but the others had grown quite a bit. Focusing on each one revealed that all the normal spiders had gained a level, putting everyone in the room at level 2.
I opened the upgrade menu for the spawner again, and was pleased to see the costs were now visible. I spent the required 5 mana to level up Georg, then closed the menu as my scion nearly got too big for the cactus, and something occurred to me. I focused on the cactus itself, and sure enough, a new status box appeared.
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Prickly Pear Cactus. Intruder.
Recruitment available. Would you like to recruit?
[Yes] [No]
[So there’s both Invaders and Intruders? I suppose Invaders must be active threats, while Intruders are just anything not part of me. Alright, then. Let’s see what you do.]
I focused on “Yes” again, and for a moment, nothing happened. Then a handful of new messages appeared again, just like when I had recruited Georg initially.
Ten mana awarded for recruitment of new species Prickly Pear Cactus.
Five EXP awarded for recruitment of new species Prickly Pear Cactus.
Foliage Menu unlocked.
Prickly Pear Cactus Upgrades unlocked.
The notifications were far less interesting, however, as the cactus itself grew a whole new chain of flat sections towards the Spider Spawner. When it got close, a final, huge circle of cactus grew horizontally over the Spawner, leaning its weight on the structure. I also noticed that the needles which held my core grew longer, making it much harder for anything to get to the shard for any reason. I watched as Georg climbed down to the large section of cactus over the spawner and planted his little spider feet like a sentinel guarding a treasure. I pondered that thought for a moment.
[Given that my core is in there as well, it’s not an inaccurate description. Perhaps he can be better equipped, though?] I focused on him, then his upgrade menu, and saw a handful of standard universal upgrades, along with one that seemed like exactly what I was looking for.
Brutal Bashers
Cost: 4 EXP
Increases the size and strength of the Scion’s front pair of legs, allowing them to be used like clubs against smaller targets.
[Perfect.]
I bought the upgrade without hesitation, and watched as Georg’s frontmost legs began to bulk up, taking him by surprise.
[Maybe next time I should talk to him before I do something.] He didn’t seem to mind though, as he inspected his new limbs and gave them a few test swings. The outer spines were significantly longer than on the rest of his legs, and on top of their sheer size, they also seemed much sturdier than before. I guessed that they were more exoskeleton than flesh now. Regardless, my core was as secure as it was going to get until I recruited or unlocked some new stuff, so I decided to move on to other pursuits.
I shunted myself into the entry room, and pulled up the Dungeon Menu. The box on the right now had a much higher count for moths, and I figured that it must be a kill tracker of some kind. Morbid, but potentially good information to have. I also noticed that a new box had formed at the bottom of the menu, below my upgrades, which had the prickly pear cactus all the way on the left. I supposed that was the Foliage Menu that had unlocked, and brought my attention back to the upgrades. There were lots, but only the first half-dozen had a price tag that was within my current budget. Trying to save up mana from moth kills for the bigger upgrades would be both time-consuming and annoying, having to look at everything less expensive while I waited, so I decided to just do a little testing for now.
Sub-room
Cost: 3 EXP
Creates a room no more than 3/4 the size of the room it is connected to. Sub-rooms cannot connect to more than one room of any kind. A room may not have more than two sub-rooms attached to it.
I bought it and attached it to the entry room so that it would be on the right when entering, and watched. The room began to shake and rumble lightly, then the stone blocks where the entrance was going to be started dissolving and folding. The doorway wasn’t particularly fancy, but the quarrystone bricks making up the doorframe definitely added that extra touch to make the space feel like a dungeon. I shunted myself into the new space, which I decided would be the perfect size for some kind of wall of fame or something, and opened its upgrade menu.
Simple Door
Cost: 2 Mana
A flimsy door made of cactus chunks held together with their own needles.
Stone Swinging Door
Cost: 4 Mana
A heavy door made of quarrystone that swings on a hinge. Requires less strength to move than it seems, but can only be pushed. It has no handle to pull on.
Stone Sliding Door
Cost: 8 Mana
A heavy door made of quarrystone that slides up into the ceiling to open. Must be connected to a mechanism to be used by creatures. Opening or closing the door without a mechanism requires 1 mana each time the door is used.
Shelves
Cost: 3 Mana
Small spaces in the walls for storing small objects. Good for tributes.
I considered the choices for a moment before glancing to the top-right of the menu where my mana pool ticked from 14 to 15, and my EXP showed a 3. I decided I liked the idea of having a room or two that only I could give access to, and bought the Stone Sliding Door for the sub-room. The quarrystone at the top of the doorway ground slowly downward, small specks of sand and loose rocks falling away as the door created itself and slowly met the floor with a quiet *thud*. The doorway itself was still there, so it would hardly be a secret that this sub-room existed, but nobody would be able to get in without my say-so, and that was good enough for now. I brought my attention back to the upgrades, and stared at the last entry.
[Tributes. Tributes for what? And of what kind? Shelves carved into the walls hardly seem big enough for human sacrifices, but Ancient Egyptian burial rites alone are more than enough evidence to support the idea that someone might figure out a way. I need information, and there’s only one way I’m going to get it.] I shunted back into the entry room, and opened the upgrade menu for that.
Open Dungeon Entrance
Cost: 5 EXP
Entrance to dungeon is currently closed, and blocked shut from the outside. Purchase to force door and blockage away and allow entry from the outside.
I stared at the entry in disdain. I only had 3 EXP left, and without access to the outside, I was pretty sure most sources of both EXP and mana were cut off from me. I shunted myself between my three rooms, inexplicably unable to move past the other door in my statue room for unknown reasons, frustrated at my lack of foresight and how idiotic it was to CHARGE FOR THE ONLY WAY TO GET ANYTHING DONE. I finally stopped shunting and stared at the broken statue.
[This is your fault,] I thought to the dungeon that had previously occupied this space. After a few seconds, I decided to focus on the statue properly, and to my surprise, a menu appeared.
Icon Statue Upgrades
Repair Statue
Cost: 20 Mana
Repair the statue created by the previous dungeon and instill the fear of the dead returned to life in all who know of its legend. All other upgrades locked until statue is repaired.
I didn’t like the tone of this particular upgrade, but the fact that there were more things I could do with it once it was fixed intrigued me. I noticed my mana pool was now at 22, since my spiders had continued doing their jobs during my little outburst, and decided to just go ahead and repair the damn thing, My mana drained, and the fallen half of the statue began to flow across the floor and up the leg of the intact portion. The statue fused itself back together once it was all in position, and I got another notification.
Milestone Achieved!
Respect for the Dead
Erected a monument to one who has passed from the realm of the living.
Reward: 2 EXP
I eyed the notification suspiciously for a few moments. It was way too convenient to not look like someone was watching me and trying to come up with an excuse to give me the resources I needed. After considering the pros and cons of such a situation, I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth.
[Thanks,] I thought in a vague upward direction as I shunted back to the entry room. I opened the upgrades menu again, and braced myself.
[Let’s get this party started.]
—
Karzem grunted as he pulled on the rope tied around the neck of a bull nearly twice his height and several times his weight. The stubborn beast had left the herd to graze on his own during their journey today, and now had decided that the middle of the road next to the plateau that once held The Great Sha’abokk Dungeon was a good place to lie down and have a break.
“Come on!” he grunted again, doing little more than shoving sand around with his feet. “Why, Axeel? Why do you always feel the need to do this to me? I never hear about you doing this to my brothers! Why won’t you just behave!?” He finally stopped his futile attempts to get the huge aurochs to move by force, and stared into the apathetic eyes of the beast known as Axeel. He was sure the creature did this on purpose, but nobody would ever believe such a ridiculous notion as that. He sighed, and walked to Axeel’s side to sit down and rest against his flank, the white robe he wore flapping as he dropped himself to the ground, and he stared at the plateau. He had been just a child when the dungeon was sealed, and the people of his village who were old enough to remember what happened in that pit of nightmares refused to tell him more than the barest hints of its horror, or how it was destroyed. All he knew for sure was that a LOT of people had gone in to finish it off, and only two had come back out.
[THOOM]
Karzem stared in horror as the pile of rocks that had been collapsed to seal the entrance to the dungeon exploded outward, sending chunks of boulder flying across the surrounding area and part of the road. Axeel also started to move from the sudden noise, and Karzem quickly grabbed the rope to lead him back home.
“Please don’t fight me again, Axeel. We need to get back and warn everyone.” The massive beast was far more cooperative this time, following Karzem easily as the boy set out at a quick jog. No point sprinting back to town and risk starting a stampede. The resurrection of The Great Sha’abokk Dungeon was far beyond what he knew how to deal with.