—Luneil—

Luneil had completed his Boss room a while ago. There were a few minor finishing touches that needed to be added, but for now there was something far more interesting going on.

There were adventurers in his valley.

There were seven of them, and they had stood around for a couple of hours, before pitching tents and clearing the area of Mirages, his insect-attracting flowers. All in all, his first real view of adventurers was far less exciting than he had hoped it would be. There wasn’t anything particularly noteworthy from them. Except that a large number of them were dwarves.

The short black-haired one, was extremely strong; while two other dwarves appeared to have limited control over gaseous mana. Apart from that, however, the function of the remaining members of the party seemed unclear. Zeph had helpfully pointed out that the extremely short female was a gnome and that the tall one was probably some species of elf.

They all seemed somewhat on edge, peering fearfully into the darkness as they clustered around their campfire. Luneil didn't miss the occasional glances that were shot in his direction. Something about their gazes seemed off. They was less excitement in them than he had expected and more the sense of an animal backed into a corner by a predator.

Zeph, why am I getting strange looks from them?

"Probably because they're worried you're a rogue Dungeon."

Why would they think that?

"Oh, I don't know." She tapped a protrusion of smoke against her chin in mock thoughtfulness, "Maybe because you stuck plants that obviously belong in a Dungeon in the middle of a valley." She kicked a nearby Mirage.

But there's nothing wrong with—

"Did you test that?"

Luneil didn't answer. He hadn't. The flowers didn't seem to affect the deer in the valley, but that didn't mean that they had no effect whatsoever. Suddenly he found himself wishing he had listened to Zeph's advice a bit more closely.

Well... I've obviously made a mistake somewhere along the line.

"You think?" Zeph asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

What will they do?

"They'll come in here, clear the place out, and if you seem too dangerous, they'll kill you."

How will they do that? I'm pretty hard to break.

"You don't need to be broken to die. You're connected to your Dungeon complex, yes?" Zeph didn't wait for him to respond, "If you're moved away from here without being given time to adjust, then the shock will destroy your mind. That's how."

Wait, so can't I just hide myself inside a wall then? That would stop someone removing me against my will.

"I suppose you could, but it's no guarantee of safety since you would need to leave a small space for your mana to flow through. It's also extremely atypical. Sentients don't like it when they can't find the Core anywhere. It's another one of those rogue Dungeon things."

Too bad. They'll just have to deal with it. They don't look particularly friendly anyway

Luneil directed his Ravens to move his Core up against a wall at the far end of his Boss room which opened up according to his will. He fell into the cubbyhole as he destroyed the lattice of grass beneath him. With a slightly flexion of will, the wall closed back up around him. He was left in darkness, surrounded by stone on all sides, except for the slightest of fissures that penetrated the rock and allowed his gaseous mana to enter and exit.

Using his mana to sense the world around him he watched the adventurers in the valley below.

***

They had spent a while clearing away the Mirages from around their camp, but now they were trudging up the slope towards his Dungeon entrance.They had made good progress, even if they had been throwing cautious glances in every direction, wary of a sudden ambush. They were close now.

As the adventurers scrambled up the final ascent, Luneil began to hear faint snippets of conversation.

"There's nae anything t' worry about this Dungeon. It's nae gone rogue. Ah, sure, there are a few measly flowers in the valley, but it's nae like the Dungeon's properly expanded down there."

"Kort, I don't know why you're defending the Dungeon, but those flowers were not measly. They're deadly if you're not careful." The gnome said.

"Lass, you're blowing those flowers out of proportion, they're hardly Hellspores. I'm sure we would've all snapped out of it once we got a little peckish. You had a bad experience and the flowers reminded you of them, that's nae a reason t’ take it out on their poor petalled heads."

"I'm not taking it out on the flowers, it's the Dungeon that's the problem here and you're refusing to see it. That thing needs to be destroyed before it hurts someone who didn't sign up to this. It's one thing when an adventurer dies in the Dungeon, it's an entirely different thing when one dies outside of it. I've been a clerk for a while now, I know how this starts. This needs to be nipped in the bud."

"Nipped in the bud? And you're saying this is nae about flowers, lass? You're practically obsessed. I think you should calm down and just think this through before you go doing something rash. We have plenty of time to prove it's nae gone rogue. No one's sent a message to the Adventurers Guild yet, so no matter what happens, we're good. Grim, Ola and myself will scout it out first, and then the rest of you can join us. Once we’ve proved it’s safe."

They were standing right in front of his entrance now, close enough for Luneil to see the frown on the gnome's face in perfect detail. The rest of the party looked slightly pensive, not reassured by Kort's explanations. Except for the elf, who just looked confused. And ugly. Well... he looked somewhat average, compared with the dwarves, but something told Luneil that elves ought to be judged to a higher standard. They were superior after all.

He shook the errant thought away. Or at least he tried to.

Zeph? Why does that elf look so ugly?

Zeph peered closer, "That's not an elf. I've seen someone like him before, a long long time ago. Before the gods died and the Veil was created." Her voice became tinged with worry, "That's a human. And I think you’re responsible for him being here."

Luneil felt a surge of emotion as a memory from a past life took hold. His final moment, one hand wrapped around the shaft of the javelin buried within his neck, the other outstretched towards the ritual circle. The rush of power leaving him, mana and Lifeforce intermingling to create a spell that seemed to defy comprehension, a strange thing that carried echoes of replication and creation in equal parts. And then nothing.

It worked.

It worked!

"Yes it did." Zeph's voice was soft, almost worried, "Be very careful Luneil, we don't know what he's capable of."

Luneil checked their auras, momentarily confused by the astounding brilliance of the mana leaking out of them. They each possessed a seemingly phenomenal amount of energy, but comparing the weakest, the human, to the strongest, the angry looking gnome, was like trying to understand the sun by looking at an ember.

I'm not so sure, he seems pretty weak.

"He comes from a different world. Knowledge was always the source of the humans' power, and believe me, it is a dangerous thing."

Dangerous? Knowledge? Hah. Luneil could have barely held back his amusement, even if he'd wanted to. All knowledge was his, and if it wasn't, it would be.

However, his definitely-not-deranged plans for domination of the world's libraries ground to a halt when Kort, the black haired one, pulled a familiar creature from his bag. With one final curse towards it, the dwarf kicked it near to where Luneil was watching.

The Harvester's chitinous legs creaked, almost in relief, as it skittered into Luneil's influence. Quickly, Luneil absorbed the prodigal Blackshell Harvester, feeling as if a long lost part of him had been reunited.

He mulled over the last order he’d given it: If something attacks you, run back here. So that’s how the adventurers had found him so quickly. He suppressed a twinge of admiration for their craftiness, replacing it with a surge of annoyance at his own foolishness.

He returned his attention to Kort as the dwarf turned to the rest of the party and, drawing himself up and puffing out his chest, spoke again, "I told you so." Kort gave a half-assed shrug and faced the Dungeon entrance once again, unable to keep a wicked grin off his face. "Now for the best part. Killing, and loot." He dumped his bag on the ground outside

Then, as if going for an afternoon walk, Kort strolled right into the mouth of the tunnel, two other dwarves following close behind.

Luneil instantly felt faint, a sensation that magnified as a cloud of gaseous mana expanded around one of the dwarves—Grim, if he remembered the name correctly. His vision was blurred and his sense of touch and smell in the area was similarly impaired. Unaccustomed to the strange sensation, he tried to brush it away with his mana, but to no avail. His mana wouldn't respond.

Luneil flailed around, his panic mounting. But his mana didn't respond, it was there, he could feel it. Yet no matter how hard he tried it was uncooperative.

He calmed himself for the moment it took to release his consciousness and let it return directly to his Core. A clear, soothing darkness enveloped him immediately and, after a bit of self-reassurance, he pushed his consciousness back into the mana cloud, he had to see what was happening.

Surprisingly, the image was clear, and all his sensations were unhindered. It took a moment to shake off the residual feelings of disorientation but he decided that the effect was most likely localized to the area surrounding the dwarves. Still... Luneil was apprehensive about what would happen if they came too close to his Core.

And then they were moving, quickly. Kort withdrew his hammer from its frog on his belt. He swung his weapon in violently graceful arcs that intercepted midair any Ravens, Harvesters or Squirreleer that leaped towards the party, turning them into clouds of bone and gore.

Grim's mana seemed to probe the stone beneath their feet, checking for buried dangers that he called out for Ola to deal with. The she-dwarf darted forwards, almost too fast for the eye to follow, evading snares, dodging pitfalls and falling stalactites.

Luneil was in a state of shock. He'd thought he was ready for these adventurers, but it was increasingly obvious that they could obliterate him in the blink of an eye. He didn't want to think about it, but he suspected that they could even take down his Boss with no difficulty whatsoever. Individually the three dwarves were powerful, but together they were nigh-on unstoppable, working seamlessly together to thwart any threat from the land, air or ground beneath their feet.

Almost unconsciously, Luneil moved his Core a few inches deeper into the fissure that he'd created. Not that it would help if these whirlwinds of steel came knocking on his wall. He began to see the futility of even hiding his Core, there could be no true escape when these three seemed as if they could reduce the very mountain to rubble beneath their feet.

Strangely, and for no good reason, they moved to the left wall of his first room, positioning themselves near the corner, far from the entrance of the Dungeon complex. Then, of all things, they began to talk, in hushed whispers.

Grim spoke first, "Kort, do ya think there's any merit to what Blue's been saying?"

"I'm nae sure what t' think. If you want me t' tell you honestly, those flowers worry the fuck out of me. I'd nae ever tell Blue that, though. Too risky she'd blab t' the Guild, and we don't want them getting first dibs. Agreeing with her would only confirm her suspicions and a person like her will probably have a Cogwork Dragon ready to send a message in anticipation of a situation like this. We need this Dungeon. What I'm hoping for is that the Council needs this Dungeon too."

After almost a minute of silence, Ola spoke up, "But what are the chances the Council will actually reverse the sentence?"

Grim seized upon the question, "The only way to maintain leverage is to own the land the Dungeon is on. Yet, owning the land is practically inviting them to uphold the sentence of the banishment, not reverse it as ya want. The Dwarven Council can always do with a new Dungeon, that's not the issue. The issue is that they claim the land and then decide, all of a sudden, to notice that we're trespassing on dwarven territory, even if we own it. Then, they Stake us out to die and our possessions pass to them. Nice, clean, simple. We're fucked."

"We could always make it out t' Blue," Kort said, before adding, "or Bas, I suppose. Neither of them have been banished by the Council, as far as I know."

Grim shook his head, "Blue wouldn't work, she's a Guild clerk and she's on Guild business right now, unfortunately, as are we all... except Bas. If we gave the land to Blue, then the Guild could state a prior claim. It has to be Bas. Neither the Guild nor the Council have a claim on him."

"And we're all fine with this?" Kort looked at each of them, noting the resolve on each of their faces, "Well, bugger. The lands around a Dungeon is a hell of a windfall t' lose, but getting that banishment revoked is the bigger prize." He kneaded his hands together, "Now, I hate to say th—"

Grim cut in, "Then don't. We don't need to 'keep him in line'." His fingers formed quotation marks in the air. "He's a good kid and he won't screw us over." Grim seemed almost content to leave it there, but he couldn't resist one parting shot, "Unless you see fit to continue acting like a cunt."

"I'm nae bei—"

"Can you two just stop bickering like little children." Ola poked a finger at Grim's chest, "You, keep your focus on the end goal. Don't get too distracted." The finger of doom moved to fix itself over Kort's heart, "And you can stop being a cunt."

Kort spluttered indignantly but said nothing.

Grim clapped his hands, "We should be getting back. We're only meant to be scouting out this first room and the others will be getting restless."

Luneil didn't bother watching them as they traced their path back to the entrance. He was too busy pondering what he had heard. He had little knowledge of the factions who might wish to claim the lands outside the Dungeon and had even less context to go by. However, he was certain that the majority of the adventurers, with Blue being the obvious exception, meant him no harm.

Luneil didn't know the motives that drove the Adventurers Guild and Dwarven Council, and for that reason he thought it best to ensure that neither one of them gained complete control over his location. It wouldn't be the end of the world by any stretch of the imagination. He could simply fly away, relocate somewhere else, but he had already devoted time, effort and more than a little love into the creation of his Dungeon complex. He was unwilling to see that go to waste over the prospect of an easily surmountable thing like bureaucracy.

After all, it sounded as if ownership of land conveyed some degree of power. Given the choice between the Council and Kort's party as proprietors of the surrounding land, Luneil would always prefer the group that would try and regulate him the least. It seemed likely that Kort’s group fit the bill far better.

He mulled over the decision for a few seconds more, trying to find any alternatives he might have missed. But no. It was decided. The adventurers would be most likely to further his cause, minus one gnome, if possible.

With that decided, Luneil cleaned up his Dungeon, removing the spatters of gore and strings of entrails that festooned the dwarves' path. He rearmed the traps and replaced the dead monsters. Uncertainty washed over him or a moment. He should have had more Lifeforce, shouldn't he? He wasn't sure. It was a tiny amount, but he couldn't shake the feeling that some if it had gone missing.

It wasn't a large loss, but it was still a loss. He would have to pay extra attention when the dwarves returned. If they returned. Luneil hoped his painfully inadequate challenge hadn't scared them off.

—Bas—

Bas' eyes went immediately to the blood-spattered armor of the three dwarves as they exited the Dungeon. He didn't say anything, merely raised an eyebrow at the sight. If any of them had been badly hurt, he would have heard some colorful cursing. Still, the blood was shockingly well distributed in a thick and even red coat, especially down the front of Kort's breastplate.

To Bas' consternation, the bloodstained dwarf beamed as he spotted him and proceeded to saunter companionably over towards him. "You nae need t' worry, lad. None of it's mine. There's nae too much of a challenge with this Dungeon, some beasties and a few traps to watch out for and that's it."

Kort raised his gore covered arm to slip around Bas' shoulder, but stopped halfway. A strange look passed over his face and he gently placed his hammer on the grassy slope. "You know, lad... if I've been too... tough on you, I'm sorry about that. It's been a rough year for all of my team and, well, I might have gotten a little over-eager about the whole getting-you-stronger thing." Kort wrung his hands, "If y... if you do nae want t'... argh, damn it. What I mean t' say is that if you aren't interested in being an adventurer and Ranking up anymore, that's fine. You can always be a crafter, or something else, I suppose. It's safer and t' be honest, it does nae stop you from Ranking up a little bit either. It just takes a little longer, that's all."

Bas looked at the floor, "Kort, I—"

"I've been pushing you a little hard, I'll readily admit that. But I would like t' think that I did it with the best of intentions." Kort scratched his beard, leaving little flecks of red nestled in among the black strands, "I just don't want you t' feel as if you've got nae other option. The valley is nae going t' be such a small place forever, and when that happens the world'll be your oyster, so t' speak." Kort drummed his steel-clad fingers against the gauntlet on his other hand. "That's all I have t' say about that."

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Bas wasn't sure how to respond. He felt a lot of his enmity towards the dwarf drain away, not entirely dissipated but definitely diminished. He'd initially considered cutting and running, just to spite Kort. He wasn't thinking of that now. He'd kept secrets too, held his own cards far too close to his chest. He hadn't even mentioned anything about his theories regarding mana.

So, with a sigh, he bent down and clasped his fingers around Kort's hammer, holding out towards the dwarf, haft first. "Kort, you're a pain in the ass, do you know that?"

Kort smiled sheepishly, placing his weapon back on his belt.

"But, I saw that mountain lion attack. I know now why you did what you did, even if I hated you for it at the time. I can't promise that I'll always stick to adventuring, I've got my own plans and ambitions after all, just as you do. But I made a promise to you as well, and I intend to honor it."

Kort moved to give him a hug, but stopped, suddenly mindful of his bloodied armor. He extended a hand, "So, all's forgiven?"

Bas waved the question away, taking Kort's proffered hand and shaking it, "Nothing to forgive."

They stood there awkwardly for a few moments before Grimheld began humming an unfamiliar tune. From the way Kort dropped his hand like a hot potato and turned bright red behind his beard, it was probably a wedding song.

Kort wiped his hands on the grass, moving over to where he had dropped his bag. "Now, let's find you something t' use in that Dungeon. The knife Grim gave you won't do much good against those beetle's shells, so you'll want something with a bit more swing."

"Wait. You mean I'm going in there?" Bas eyed the slick of blood that Kort’s handshake had left on his palm.

"Why not, lad? It's perfectly safe, especially with a strong and practiced team. Nothing bad'll happen, but it's always best to have the right weapon, just in case. This," Kort pulled out a small wood-axe with a flourish, "is nae the right weapon. But it'll do. If a monster gets too close, knock 'em away with the sharp end and we'll do the rest. And try t' avoid taking out your own kneecaps with it. Happens more often than you'd think."

Bas turned over the hatchet in his hands. The cutting edge was protected by a stiff leather cover that nonetheless came off easily with a few light tugs. It was nothing impressive, probably intended for splitting logs into firewood. But it was a reassuring weight in his hands, all the same. The extra reach would certainly be good for handling the monsters in the... "Kort, what's in the Dungeon?"

"Nothing particularly dangerous, squirrels, beetles, couple of birds. Few nasty traps, though, so keep an eye on your footing and don't wander off too far. There's nae much Lifeforce t' them, so it's a bit of a waste of time for us. But for you, it's perfect t' get a head-start on Ranking up." Kort placed a hand on the head of his hammer, "Come on, let's get going. There's nae any loot in there yet, the Dungeon's too young, but it's a good learning experience all the same."

Bas was more than a little excited at the prospect of entering a Dungeon. Would it be like in a video game? Or would it be something else. There were other, equally important questions though, "This isn't dangerous is it?"

Grim walked up to him, "Only if ya make it so. This is part of our job. After all, there's more to being an adventurer than raiding Dungeons for loot, it's also about escorting crafters who need Lifeforce to extend their lives and help them in their professions. Then there's replacing shortfalls in local militia, exploration, subduing monster infestations and incursions, although the last is sometimes dealt with by soldiers."

Bas nodded, it made sense that mana was used for things other than simply fighting, but the sheer number of roles adventurers had to play was more than a little surprising. They were like mercenaries, pest control and explorers all wrapped into one. If you could call dangerous and violent monsters 'pests'. "How often do—"

Ola touched his arm gently, having approached him unnoticed, "Bas, dear, we appreciate that you might be a little anxious, but we really do need to get moving if you want a decent crack at your first Dungeon dive." She smiled at him encouragingly, "Don't worry about us, we've all done this a thousand times, just focus on observing and using your mana if you feel up to it."

Bas nodded and slowly followed along.

"I'm coming too," Blue piped up, "just to see the Dungeon."

Ola looked to Kort, who shrugged. Ola turned back to Blue, "Hurry along then." She gestured to Dirri and Gern, "You two, as well."

Then Bas entered the Dungeon for the first time.

The mist around the entrance enveloped him in a slight tickling sensation that crawled along his skin, he could feel the Dungeon watching him as he followed Ola down the sloping tunnel. The air wasn't moist or sticky, despite the misty air around him. There was something strangely familiar about it, "This is gaseous mana, isn't it?"

Grimheld spoke up from somewhere in front, "Yes, it is. Dungeon Core's produce it naturally as an a way of extending their influence."

"You say that as if they're alive."

"In some ways they are, but they're not like either of us. A Dungeons Core doesn't think or feel, at least not in a complex way. They're a type of parasite with the power of creation. They need Lifeforce, just like us, yet they don't produce it themselves. So they replicate what they encounter and use it to gather more Lifeforce."

"But you say that they sometimes produce loot? Why would they do that?"

"Monster ingredients are useful to crafters, since their parts contain both mana and Lifeforce. However, that means the Dungeon loses more Lifeforce, so, if ya let the Dungeon absorb the corpse of a monster, sometimes ya'll get some nice loot in return. The alternative is taking the bodies out of the Dungeon to deprive it of Lifeforce, do that enough and ya can soften it up for an easy extermination. They tend to fight back when ya go for the Core."

"That sounds an awful lot like they think."

"I get what ya mean, kid, I really do. But don't think on this too hard, Dungeons are strange and even though they're complex that doesn't mean they're conscious. They have no Lifeforce of their own, unlike the monsters they create. They are quite literally soulless killers. And even if they did think, can you imagine the sort of alien mind that would create this and still try to kill ya?"

Bas stepped out of the tunnel, into the first room, which was roughly the size of a small football pitch, just in time to see Grimheld throw his arm out to encompass the sight before him.

The Dungeon's gaseous mana glowed with a soft almost ethereal light, pooling on the ground, encircling stalagmites that reached up to the ceiling. A small stream bubbled its way down a sloping floor towards the wall at the far end, framed on either side by verdant grass intermittent bushes bearing plump red berries. Small shapes seemed to scuttle, scurry and fly through the air and underbrush. Equally eyecatching were the flowers placed intermittently on the floor, the same hypnotic flowers as those in the valley.

Bas took a moment to look at Grimheld, noticing that the dwarf had a mana cloud expanded around the entire party, keeping the pollen out. Grimheld saw him looking, "Do ya want to try lad, just for yerself? It's safe with us around."

Bas nodded, "Why not."

Grimheld's mana cloud parted around him, and only him. In response, before he took a breath, Bas let his mana seep out of him, expanding to encompass his head. He tried to cover more of his body until it stopped just short of his belly button, at which point it could go no further. He needed more Lifeforce if he wanted to use more mana.

Like before, he could sense the world around him, including the Dungeon's mana in the air. It was strangely resistant, like moving his sense through custard. Which was odd, since the mana felt far less dense than his own. Maybe he could copy that somehow.

He imagined his mana as if it were a gas, imagining the diagram of atoms in his physics book, loosely arranged and bouncing around. He pictured the bonds between his mana weakening, letting it expand to fill the vacant air.

Bas felt a small dip in his mana levels, but it was nothing unmanageable, far less than his normal recovery. He looked at his mana cloud, it required a small upkeep of mana but in return it was now four times as large, and also four times less dense, although he was unsure of the implications of that. It seemed reasonable to assume that it might have some negative effect if he was using the Mitigator Variant to steal momentum, but otherwise it granted him a greater range with which to sense the world around him.

He tried expanding his mana cloud again, working on increasing its coverage. He encountered greater resistance and mana draw, but the area of his mana cloud increased again, now covering his body and a significant area around it. He was building up a slight headache, but it didn't matter too much, there was something wonderful about the air in the Dungeon, a balmy soothing scent of choco—

"Uhh, Grim, how do I keep the pollen out?" It wasn't a big deal, but he might prefer it if wasn't in his air supply.

Grimheld laughed, "I was wondering when ya would notice. Yer control of mana is very impressive by the way, for a newbie. How did ya figure that one out?"

"Guesswork, now would you kindly tell me how to get rid of the pollen?" It didn't really matter, but it probably wasn't the best idea to enjoy the smell right now, he could always do it later, after all.

"Same as the Mitigator Variant, but instead yer giving momentum instead of taking it away. Pulse yer entire cloud outwards once, then just maintain it at the borders after that."

Bas did as Grimheld had suggested, taking one last breath of orange air freshener and chocolate cookies before pushing the wonderfully scented pollen out of his mana cloud. He stood there for a moment, wondering how he hadn't noticed it sooner.

He was beginning to appreciate how incredibly dangerous it could be, even on its own. Without adequate protection, foreknowledge or a strong will, the pollen could create a sense of relaxation and unconcern in its victims, even in the presence of lethal danger. Bas once again found himself thanking his lucky stars for being with a group who were able to prevent the worst from happening, and more than that, teach him to prevent it too.

Bas followed the party down the slope, being careful where he put his feet. He almost didn't see the first mutated squirrel jump down towards him from a stalactite, the tines of its antlers angled forwards to impale him.

He flared his mana, pouring every ounce of energy into stopping the psycho squirrel from spitting him on its antlers. The squirrel's flight through the air slowed, then stopped. Kort's hammer thundered through the air at the same time as Grimheld's crossbow bolt. Both weapons met empty space, having been aimed for where the monster would have been had Bas not stopped it.

Ola leaped into the air, snatching the critter out of the sky as Bas' mana dropped precipitously, interrupting its levitation. She hammered its antlers into the ground, leaving the squirrel to flail four legs in adorable impotent rage. "All yours, Bas." She smiled.

Bas hefted his axe thoughtfully, then he turned to Kort, grinning, "You wouldn't mind would you?"

"Go for it, lad." Kort laughed, handing over his hammer to Bas.

Bas positioned himself, checking behind him to make sure no one was in the way of his backswing. Like a golfer teeing up, he rested the hammer against the antlered squirrel squirming in the ground then raised it to behind his head. In one smooth stroke, the hammer came arcing down and around. It impacted the antlered squirrel with a satisfyingly meaty thunk, sending the unfortunate creature pinwheeling about twenty feet across the Dungeon floor to its final destination.

There was a cheer from the assembled dwarves. "Nice swing, lad." Bas barely felt Kort's hand slap his back, sending him stumbling forwards. The feeling of Lifeforce rushing into him filled him with the indescribable electricity of euphoria that only a living being's power could provide. He realized it had been a while since he had felt this, way back on the now-blackened hills of the Tinderbox. He'd missed the feeling, more than he'd realized.

The experience was a constant reminder that he was getting stronger, and that meant that he was closer to his goals. Not only that, but even the brief time he had spent in the Dungeon had been an educational experience. His plans regarding plasma mana all seemed to hinge on theory for the time being, even if it was good theory. However, his successful attempts at excluding the pollen from his mana cloud by imparting outwards momentum were significant. They proved that mechanical engines driven by gaseous mana would work. He wasn't yet able to sustain something like that for any period of time, but that would come with time and power.

Nevertheless, if both worked out, they would provide an incredible double threat. The use of plasma mana would hopefully make him an unstoppable force inside the Dungeon, while the application of mana engines would boost the effectiveness of whichever faction took him in, most likely the dwarves. He smiled in satisfaction, his plans were all starting to come together.

He was broken out of his daydreaming by Kort gently prying the hammer out from between his fingers, "What are you thinking about, lad?"

"Noth—" Bas cut himself off, did he really want to keep on hiding all his plans from people who were dedicated to helping him? No... he didn't. "Back on Earth, there used to be this thing called steam power. An old empire used it to power complicated machines to do all sorts of labor intensive task. I want to use gaseous mana to do the same thing."

They all had thoughtful expressions on their faces, but to Bas' surprise it was Blue who spoke first, "If you want to use machines for work, why not just use Anolin? Sure, they require materials in payment but it's still far easier than doing the work yourself."

Bas tilted his head to one side, "You make it sound as if these Anolin are alive."

"They are, clockwork with a spark of Lifeforce given to them."

"No." Bas shook his head, "These machines wouldn't be like that. They wouldn't think, demand payment or even truly live. All they need is gaseous mana to make them work."

"But what use are they?"

"Look." Bas gritted his teeth, trying to find an example that would convince them, "There's something called a train. It's made of small metal carts connected together and travels on a special type of road, called a railway track. Even if coal and steam were used to power its engine, instead of converting gaseous mana directly into momentum, then it would be able to move faster than Ola, without any need to eat sleep or rest. Not only that, it could carry a hundred times more weight than Kort ever could."

Kort glared at him, standing on his toes and pressing his chest up against Bas in an effort to intimidate him, "You want t' bet on that?"

Bas smiled back down in the most demeaning way he could possibly manage, "Yes."

Kort's demeanor changed in an instant, and he gave a hearty laugh, poking Bas in the chest, "You're on!"

Kort looked around briefly at the rest of the team, "Well? What are you all standing around for? We're in a fucking Dungeon, it's nae your granny's tea room. Are we going to kill monsters now or what?"

***

For the next hour, the team devastated the Dungeon's population of antlered squirrels, beetles and ravens. Under Grimheld's tutelage, Bas quickly learned that he could extend his gaseous mana through the ground for a short distance in order to check for traps.

What he found was horrifying, to say the least. There were standard pitfall traps, of course. However, there were also smaller pits as well, covered by a thin layer of stone. The walls of these were lined with downward facing spikes of rock that would tear a foot to shreds if it was pulled out. Likewise, snares made out of a strange wood could trip and entangle an unsuspecting adventurer, perhaps even break bones if given the chance to constrict.

These were not traps designed to kill. They were designed to incapacitate and leave victims exposed. The nature behind the Dungeon's design became clear. Its creatures were weak, pitifully so. But they were still an unwelcome distraction. In hindsight it was incredibly clear that they tended to congregate around trap-heavy areas, where they had the greatest chance of directing an unwary adventure onto unsafe ground. Combine that with the soothing effect of the pollen and the place was a complete deathtrap to anyone unable to protect themselves against its effects. With their minds in an addled state, they would be increasingly likely to step wrongly, a fatal error that would result in them being ripped to pieces by otherwise weak monsters.

But that was all behind them now, quite literally. They had reached an archway which led into the second room.

Its design was completely different. Now thick coils of bark and branches snaked their way down from the ceiling, spilling out over the floor in a tangle of twisted wood. In the center was a small meadow of gently swaying grass with small dots of yellow running along them.

Then there was movement at the far side of the room as two particularly thick ropes of wood flexed away from each other, exposing a small passage behind it. And then, a deer stepped through the opening.

It could only be called a deer in the loosest possible sense. This was not some placid herbivore that wanted nothing more than a mouthful of plant matter and a scratch of its antlers against an unsuspecting tree. No, this eldritch abomination of a buck was a baleful Lovecraftian monstrosity, a demoniac nightmare, mean as hell and nasty as gluten free birthday cake.

The deer was covered in a thick black shell that Bas recognized from the beetles in the first room. However, this deer's carapace didn't seem sufficient to contain its bulging muscles, causing the shell to crack and heave with every step taken. Its maw, there really was no other way to describe it, was a composite of clacking mandibles that eagerly shredded the air in front of it. The most normal thing about it was its antlers, and even those were glossy black and looked like the lovechild between a pitchfork and a cactus.

It took another step forwards and the tangle of branches beneath it shifted to provide a stable platform to walk upon.

Bas reeled as Kort pushed him backwards, away from the strange deer, "Stay here, looks like a Boss monster, don't help us fight it. It's too dangerous for your first dive."

And then the carapace covered deer charged.

—Luneil—

Luneil's first ever Boss, his Fell Deer, charged at the pesky intruders, sticking close to the wall of the room and avoiding the grassy clearing at the center. The adventuring team formed up, Kort at the front.

Luneil felt a twinge of worry as Gern began shooting glistening spears of ice from his palm. They flew unerring accuracy towards the Boss, shattering against its black carapace, leaving lacerations and pock marks, but doing no other damage.

A hail of blades and crossbow bolts followed, glistening with infused mana. They struck true, quivering as they pierced through the thick black armor and buried themselves in the surging muscle beneath.

The Fell Deer let out a chittering scream, lowering it head to present its glossy antlers and the thick nub of bone and carapace between them. The embedded projectiles jerked wildly within its body, causing the chitinous shell to shudder and crack. The pain only served to spur the Fell Deer forwards as it closed on Kort, who held his hammer at the ready, staring the Deer down with a nonchalant smirk on his face.

Grimheld's mana surged outwards as he lowered his crossbow. His mana cloud brushed against Kort's back and stopped there, swirling softly.Kort chanced a look backwards to give a small nod of appreciation towards Grimheld.

Luneil watched as Kort's aura seemed to strengthen as excess mana seemed to pour out of it. He felt a glimmering of trepidation and fascination as he detected the air within Grimheld's mana cloud change. It was faint, especially with the adventurers’ powerful auras the sensation from his mana in the vicinity, but it was there. The air seemed to lose all its quickness, almost seeming to thicken into a treacly consistency that braced itself firmly against Kort.

The dwarf's body glowed as turquoise power burst into being beneath his skin. Leaning back into Grimheld's momentum buffering wall of mana he prepared to deliver a devastating sideways strike to the Deer's cranium.

Kort's hammer thundered around. The incredible force behind it pulled the dwarf forwards as it began to finalize its arc, yet Grimheld's mana seemed to tug at him, maintaining Kort's stability.

Luneil felt a surge of admiration for the brave dwarves and their teamwork. But only for a moment. He chuckled to himself, this was going to be good.

The ground beneath the adventurers gave way.

The tangled branches of Ropewood shifted to provide a stable platform for the Fell Deer, making everyone except Ola stumble and lose their footing.

Grimheld's stabilizing mana cloud failed as he suddenly lost concentration. He rectified it almost immediately, but it was too late.

Kort slipped and fell backwards, instead of hitting the Deer's skull, his hammer instead hit the splendid black rack protruding from its head. The antlers were pulverized and the Fell Deer stumbled, bowling into Kort and Grimheld's wall of mana.

For a second it seemed as if the mana cloud might hold, but then it gave way and the Deer slammed into the rest of the adventurers sending them flying.

Everyone was lying on the floor groaning, including the Fell Deer.

Luneil directed an order at it.

Get up.

With a pained clatter of its many mandibles it eased itself onto its feet and took several wobbling steps towards the nearest dazed adventurer.

No. Not him. Kill that one.

It wasn't anything personal, but she was too much of a risk towards his existence.

The Deer reared up onto its back legs, angling its onyx forehooves at the gnome's head.

The light was almost blinding as mana surged through her skull and her eyes flashed open. In one smooth motion, as if she'd spent a lifetime practicing it, Blue whipped a dagger out of her boot and drove it between the cleft of the Fell Deer's black hoof.

The Deer's mandibles clacked as Blue seized the same hoof with her other hand and jerked to one side.

Maddened by the pain and unbalanced by Blue's tug, the Deer's hooves crashed down on either side of her shining head, missing by mere inches.

The blue light vanished from her skull and convulsions began to rip through the small gnome's body.

The Deer reared up again for a fatal strike at the incapacitated gnome.

And then Ola was there, flying through the air, having been tossed by Kort. She crashed into the side of the Deer, sending it tumbling over Ropewood branches that tried to assemble themselves into a flat surface as it neared. But its head got caught between two moving branches and with a sickening crunch the Deer's momentum snapped its own armor plated neck.

"Fuck," Kort said, fists clenched, “I should have told her t’ wait with...” Kort stared at the archway connecting to the first room, "Where's Bas?"

Luneil jolted. Kort was right. Where was the human? If he wanted anyone to die least, it was him. Bas was important for keeping his Dungeon out of the hands of the Guild and the Council. It also didn’t hurt that he represented an important part, perhaps even the culmination, of his past life, what little he knew of it.

And...

Oh dear.

—Bas—

Bas was running. He didn't always like Blue, but when he saw her go down, he knew it was bad. Far worse than when she'd killed the monstrous mountain lion. She needed treatment, and she needed it quickly.

Dramal root tea would help her recover, but that was in Grimheld's bag. Outside the Dungeon. It meant crossing the first room alone. But that wasn't an issue. They had cleared out all the monsters and traps before they entered the Boss room, so it was relatively safe.

The tunnel to the entrance was close and he'd made good headway, even if he was running uphill.

And then, in his haste, he splashed straight through the small stream at its widest and shallowest part.

Something seized his leg and dragged him under.

Bubbles exploded out of his mouth. Branches, just like those in the Boss room, poked through the silty streambed and began to squeeze the life out of him.