“You!” Worm jabbed a finger towards his Undead Servant. It was an imperious gesture aimed at asserting both dominance and control, which were two things he’d felt he was missing lately. “Come with me. I want you to search for the Dungeon.”

“I’m sorry, Master,” Daisy said. She held up a small bucket. Inside were a few fish. One of them flipped and flopped on top of the others, its scales glittering. “Lord Pinkytoes gave me a Quest. I’m nearly finished.”

“A Quest?” He glanced at the little animal sitting regally at her feet. The Kitten’s eyes slitted gently before it looked away from him. “It can give out Quests?”

“Well, he is the local Lord.”

“What Quest did he give you?”

Daisy started laying out the fish on a large flat stone she’d put in front of the fire. “It’s called Lunch for the Lord.” She pulled out a fillet knife from her Inventory and made a disgusted face. “I have to cut up twelve fish and feed them to him. Catching them was easy and I don’t mind the feeding part, but I don’t like cutting up the poor little fishies. They’re all slimy.”

As her knife carved into the first writhing fish, Lord Pinkytoes began to purr.

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

Petal stood in the middle of a small clearing. A dozen trees formed a relatively tight circle around her. In the middle of the clearing, a delicate flowering plant was reaching for the slim beams of sunlight above.

She didn’t know what kind of plant it was.

Or why it was had captured her attention so fully.

It could have been the colour of the flowers, which reminded her of her childhood.

It might also have been the way the leaves shivered in the wind giving the flowers a vulnerability that struck a chord in the tough young Mercenary.

More likely, she reasoned, it was the upper half of a skull barely seen through the soil which the plant’s roots were wrapped around as it grew.

The flower was, she realised with a note of blissful clarity, feeding on the remains of some long-dead Adventurer. It was as if she was seeing the complete Cycle of Life laid out in front of her in a display so perfect she couldn’t look away.

She knelt in front of the plant, her gauntleted hand reaching out to delicately stroke the little leaves. A happy smile bloomed on her face as the perfume of the flowers reached her nostrils.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispered to it.

Then she plucked a few of the flowers and dropped them in her Inventory.

Daisy would know what to do with them.

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

By the time they headed back towards the little hill where the Dungeon should be, Worm had lost his Impatient Buff and gained three stacks of Depressed and one of Despair.

Emotional penalties weren’t uncommon. Many creatures used them defensively.

Even Daisy could, as an Undead Servant, cast Fear if she wanted to.

The problem with Daisy, of course, was she didn’t like anyone being afraid of her so had yet to use the ridiculously effective Spell.

Worm studied the current effects on his Emotions as he walked.

Depression reduced a Target’s Agility, Strength, and Endurance by Five per stack, but never went below Baseline. He imagined this was so he should feel weaker when affected.

It also extended his Casting Time by Three percent per stack.

The odd thing about this Buff was Worm had never added Points into Agility, Strength, or Endurance. And his high Intellect practically negated the effects of the increase to Casting Time.

Despair reduced the Target’s Vitality, Endurance, Agility and Strength by Ten per stack, and again never went below Baseline.

Once more, this had no practical effect on Worm’s Stats as they were already Baseline.

There were a few other minor cosmetic effects such as Random bouts of Crying, Sighing, and Moaning, as well as an additional penalty if the Target wasn’t wearing mostly Black clothing.

Worm frowned, teasing every word out of the Buff descriptions.

Not a single thing wasn’t negated by his choice to put all his points into Intelligence.

So, he asked himself, why did he feel so Depressed?

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Daisy noticed her Master’s frown had deepened the closer they got to the little hill.

He must be desperate to find the Dungeon, she thought.

When he found it, he’d be so happy he might even get several buffs for it.

Determined to cheer him up, she skipped ahead of him, letting her skirt lift playfully to expose her panties across her rear. She knew he loved to look at them even if he made strangled noises and looked away.

As she got another Notification advising her Sexual Perversion Stat had now reached Fifty Points, she felt a little tingle in her tummy and an exciting idea popped into her head without warning.

What would Master think if she wasn’t wearing any panties at all?

This question wriggled around inside her head until finally she saw the little hill they’d been looking for.

Her smile widened as she noticed clusters of Crimson Delights lifting their little flowers above the grass. With knowledge gained from her rising Herbology Skill, and Agatha Appleblossom’s Enchanted Herbs of the Weird Woods, she knew the little seeds inside the flowers were worth a hefty sum.

She bent to start squeezing seeds loose from a flower at her feet when her Master gave a frustrated growl. “Daisy! You’re here to find the Dungeon. Not pick some useless bloody flowers!”

“Hmm?” She looked up at him, wondering why he was yelling at her. Then pointed. “But it’s right there, Master. Behind the Juniper bush. Juniper doesn’t grow anywhere near here at all.”

Worm blinked.

Looked at the Juniper.

And promptly gained five stacks of Enraged and ten of Humiliated.

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The Necromancer stomped up to the Juniper bush, a scowl planted on his face and the Dungeon Master’s Guide firmly in his fist.

Now she’d pointed it out to him, it was hard not to see the Dungeon.

In the little hill’s side was a door-shaped indent. Only about a half-inch deep, it would eventually expand to fill the hill and possibly the ground beneath if it gained enough Levels.

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The hairs on the back of his neck and down his forearms bristled. This close to the Dungeon Entrance, the air was crisp and energetic.

Looking down at his Guide, he read again the sparse little paragraph on how to Connect with the Dungeon.

The Guide encouraged gentleness and empathy, advising that many Dungeons were prone to Madness and could behave erratically. Early in the process, the Guide advised, it was vital to prevent the Dungeon from gaining any Traumatised statuses.

With this in mind, Worm stepped through the illusion of the Juniper bush, put his hands on his hips and then kicked the Dungeon with the heel of his boot.

“You!” He snarled. “Dungeon! Wake up!”

A spark of electricity was spat from the little doorway as the Dungeon started in surprise.

What!?

“Good,” Worm grunted. The Guide had said some Dungeons couldn’t talk or they spoke in a language he didn’t have an Option for. “You’re able to talk at least.”

You can HEAR me?

“Of course I can hear you.” Worm pushed a hand up against the doorway. “I have ears, you know.”

You have to help me! I can’t get out. I’m stuck. The walls are solid ruby or something and I can’t get out. I’m­-

“Yes, yes,” Worm said, not listening as a Notification popped in front of him asking if he wanted to accept the role of Dungeon Master. He selected Yes and closed his eyes.

There was a polite little ding and that was that.

He was now a Dungeon Master.

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

The Dungeon Core was affected by the maximum number of Panicked Buffs he could stack, which was ten.

A notification popped up right in front of him advising he now had a Dungeon Master and that his System Options were being altered. He was given a friendly-looking timer which appeared to be counting down from Thirty. It paused at Twenty-Five and then rapidly descended.

System Options?

He didn’t understand. Other than the cheerful glowing Interface in front of him, all he could see was the glittering red walls which formed his prison. It was like he was stuck inside a ruby.

But, as the timer expired and more notifications started popping up in front of his face, he was faced with a singular horrifying realisation.

Eric Twinge, was the ruby.

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

You’ve got to help me! I need to get home! My Gran is waiting for me!

Worm browsed his new System Options, disappointed to see the majority of it was greyed out due to the Dungeon’s low Level.

“Hmm,” he hmmed. “You need to Level up fast. I don’t want to be stuck out here forever.”

You don’t understand! Listen to me! I have to get back! I have exams!

Worm did a quick search of his Guide. “Really? It doesn’t say anything about Exams in here.” He shrugged, accepting the Guide was probably useless. He tapped his chin thoughtfully for a moment, then decided Exams might be part of the Introductory Campaign for the Dungeon to learn its role. “Well, I guess you should study for them, then. I’d advise paying close attention to any involving your Leveling technique. There must be a faster way to Level than everyone thinks.”

What are you on about? Levels? What is happening?

“I need to study my own Options,” Worm said. “I’ll come back later and we can compare Stats. I want to see some improvement. Especially on your depth. You’re barely deep enough to cater to a Party of Beetles, let alone Adventurers.”

Wait! Where are you going? Stop! Come back! Get me out of here! Get me out!

Worm decided to let the Dungeon manage its mental crisis on its own. The Guide had said Dungeons were mostly insane, and it looked like he’d found one which thought it was from another world. This, too, wasn’t uncommon.

A major theory in Dungeon Creation was that Dungeon Cores invented scenarios to explain their sudden existence. The theory assumed their creation must be violent and painful. This explained the Panicked State that Dungeons often started with.

The Guide advised ignoring it until the Dungeon Fairy had finished explaining everything which often calmed the Dungeon down enough to accept its current existence and move on with the important task of Leveling Up.

I can’t feel my hands. Why can’t I feel my hands?

Worm looked around at the gentle trees, ignoring the Dungeon’s deranged rumbles.

He wondered where the Fairy might be hiding.

Or the birds.

The birds seemed to be very quiet. Very quiet indeed.

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

Dropping a hefty pouch of Crimson Delight seeds into her Inventory, Daisy turned to see Worm returning from the Dungeon Entrance. His frown wasn’t as deep as before, but he still looked thoughtful.

His eyes met hers before quickly sliding away. “Have you seen a Fairy around here?”

“No, Master. But there might be some in the nearby Woods. My Herbology book says there’s plenty of Fairy Rings in the area.”

“Hmm. One should have been waiting for the Dungeon to Connect to a Dungeon Master and then they’d initiate the Introduction Campaign.” He scratched his head, looking around. “The Guide says it should’ve been here. It’s late.”

“Maybe it stopped for breakfast.”

He tucked his Guide away for now with a shake of his head. “Personally, I think this stupid pamphlet is just wrong about everything.”

Daisy chewed her bottom lip as she remembered the little Fairy wings she had in her Inventory. However, she didn’t think now was the time to mention that to him. Instead, she twirled cutely, displaying her panties eagerly before leading the way back to their temporary shelter in the ruins.

Whether Lord Pinkytoes had eaten the Fairy or not wasn’t important. She knew her Master would fix everything.

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

Eric still had five stacks of Panicked and would have been running around in circles or hiding under his covers if these were options.

Unfortunately, he was a gem now. And that meant he had no legs to run with. Nor a bed to sleep in. His mind, however, raced around for him.

What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do?

No answer came, but the little timer in the corner of his vision slowly ticked down until the last stack of Panicked disappeared.

As it did, he noted that he felt a lot better about things in general.

Not enough that he could fully believe what was happening to him, but enough that he could look at the little flashing Notification in front of him without sobbing like he had been.

He read the Notification over and over.

It’s like a game.

Finally, disregarding the Notification’s advice that he should wait for his Dungeon Fairy, he mentally clicked Yes and entered the Introductory Campaign.

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“I think I need to go back to Town,” Daisy said as she watched her Master eat. As an Undead Servant, she didn’t need food. But she’d always liked cooking, and now she did it every day for him. “We need some more Food Supplies. And I think I’d like to try selling the Herbs I’ve been Harvesting.”

“Fine,” Worm said, without looking at her.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay without me?”

“Yes.” His mouth twisted into a bitter smile. “I will be.”

Petal’s gauntleted hand swiped that back of his head, sending him sprawling.

He came up scowling, rubbing at his head and looking around at his dinner which was now all over the floor. “What’d you do that for?”

“You were being rude,” she said. “Daisy just made you dinner, and you’re treating her like… Well, like an Undead Servant.”

“She is and Undead Servant!”

“And she has feeling. Which you’re hurting.”

Worm stared at the Mercenary, his gaze shifting through a hundred emotions. Finally, he settled on one he hoped was cold and impassive. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I do.” Petal japed a finger at where Daisy sat with her hands in her lap. “Look at her. She’s hurting. You hurt her with what you just said.”

Daisy fidgeted, looking uncomfortable. “Really, Petal. It’s fine…”

“No,” Petal said firmly. “It’s not. Now, apologise to her.”

Worm stood, brushing some of his dinner off his clothes. He stretched his shoulders and glared down at the Mercenary. “Did I hurt your feelings, Daisy?”

“Well…” The Undead Servant blushed. “Not really…”

Petal frowned. “Daisy…”

“No,” Worm said, his voice colder than anything she’d ever heard. “I say again, Petal. You don’t understand. You don’t understand anything. I can’t hurt her feelings. I wish I could. Believe me, I’ve tried. Because if there was any chance anything I said could hurt her feelings, I’d say it. Over and over, I’d say it. I’d say it until she was a crying mess in the street.”

With that, the Necromancer whirled and thrust himself out into the dying light of Dusk.

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

He was proud of his exit. He thought it was quite dramatic.

Mostly, though, Worm was proud he didn’t trip over anything and make more of a fool of himself than he already felt.

He wandered for a while, thinking he was heading towards the Dungeon again. But instead of completing the journey, he found an old wooden log and sat down on it to contemplate his woes and gain another pointless stack or two of Depressed.

“If you want, I can kill them,” a voice purred behind him.

“Not now, Cordelia.”

“All I ask is that you control me. Just one time…”

“Leave me alone.”

“Just for a few seconds…”

“Cordelia…”

“Please?”

Worm closed his eyes and counted to ten.

Then, because he couldn’t see any reason not to, he cast Control Undead.

The Vampire cried out in ecstasy.

At least someone was happy, Worm thought as he watched her writhe on the ground in front of him.

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

Lord Pinkytoes studied the Weak One.

He was very concerned. The Weak One’s attitude had left the Herbed One feeling sad. And, when she was sad, her scritches weren’t as good as when she was happy.

Again, he thought he should eject the Weak One from the group. But he hesitated, suspecting the Herbed One would follow him if he left.

Wondering what to do, Lord Pinkytoes studied his Options.

He noticed that, while many were greyed out, there were a couple which looked like he could interact with. He’d tried one before and had been delighted to discover this caused the Herbed One to bring him fish.

There was also a Notification advising him that there weren’t enough Beds.

This seemed strange to the Kitten, who thought a Bed was anything on which he was sleeping at the time. But after a few nights, he realised his Servants seemed to require specific places to sleep.

Maybe, he thought, that was their problem. They were all sleeping in the same room. Perhaps they needed to be further apart.

Purring at this sudden insight, Lord Pinkytoes started looking for any Options which would all Kennels to be built on the site.

As soon as he’d figured out what he was needing, he clicked Accept.

And the Weak One screamed again.

Lord Pinkytoes shook his head as he trotted away. Honestly, the Weak One was more trouble than he was worth…