With a final distant groan and clank, the elevator finishes returning to the first floor, leaving the Worthy Dungeon once again in silence. At least, until it's followed by a groan from Xenia. "Definitely gonna need that third floor soon to put in some distance, or at least some soundproofing. That's gonna get real annoying if people end up using that thing a couple times a day."

Her guide hovers around the area, watching as the elevator shaft's traps and ambushes reset themselves. "Improved materials would probably help with that. To be honest, I am actually surprised it held together, especially considering the...incident with the sawblade trap the other day."

"I bet the Big Dungeon Rulebook wouldn't have let us get away with it if it was actually gonna one-shot every party that comes in here. Though, you've gotta have access to that thing, or whatever it is, right? I mean your tips and all have been nice, but how about something specific? How do I get a third floor rolling?"

Guy chuckles as they return to the core chamber. "As you are apparently aware, I am in service to the SGA department - Spiritual Guides and Advisors. Emphasis on 'guidance' and 'advice'. Have any of your previously assigned guides been so detailed with you?"

Xenia leans back in her seat, staring at the ceiling as she tries to recall. "...Nah, though if I gotta be honest, I kinda figured I'd just pissed off most of them. Or they pissed me off. God, the one I had the first time I was a Hero - called herself my Guardian Angel, think her actual name was Rachel? Oooooh, I hated her. Barely ever showed up, and when she did it was just to give the vaguest instructions. 'Thou must arrive at the battlefield in two days. Bring the goat.' and that kind of shit. Guess I mostly just cussed her out when she did show up, so maybe she was avoiding me."

The guide hums. "A Hero, eh? I believe I have heard that department does go for more, ah...'prophetic messages' in their theming? How did that round turn out for you?"

There's a marked moment of silence before Xenia responds. "...I don't want to talk about being a Hero. Anyways, you're changing the subject. How do I get a third floor?"

"Ah, well, you see, even though a core's Guide is meant to be more hands-on, we can't provide you with specific steps to take. Otherwise there's too much concern that we would be the ones actually designing the dungeons, particularly given that most dungeon cores don't come to the job with...an extensive resume like your own. As we are divine agents, it would lack the unpredictable and creative flourishes that make a mortal-driven dungeon unique. Which is to say, I do not actually know how to go about achieving more floors in a specific sense. If you were to become stuck for a particularly long time, more information may become available to me, but in general I can only give you, well, general advice."

The dungeon master summons a virtual mug of water into her virtual hand, while mumbling something about needing to lure a bartender into the dungeon. "...Weird, I can actually feel myself taste the water, but it's like it vanishes right on my tongue. Creepy. Anyhow, what's your general advice then?"

"Simply put, the most direct method is to kill more adventurers. I am quite confident that there's a number of additional unlocks waiting behind higher killcounts just in broad terms, but you are also likely to get some by using more unique methods. For example, defeating adventurers with your boss monsters. Convincing adventurers to turn on each other with illusions or mind-altering effects. Probably for using environmental hazards, like lava, were we to have some. And so on."

"I do kinda hope there's some that don't involve killing. I mean, they're nice, don't get me wrong, but you gotta have some variety to keep things interesting, you know? Like...making the coolest monster, or scaring someone real good, or making a really sweet piece of loot or something." Xenia glances over at Guy. "So you just kinda...vaguely know stuff then, huh? What's it like for you, really? Are all you guides just working cubical office jobs in some ring of hell, picking up the phone whenever I call for customer support? I've never gotten a straight answer on that."

This time, it's Guy's turn to hesitate before answering. "...I really can't talk about it. But suffice it to say that I am here, with you, just as I seem. My awareness, in any case, I will admit that we live in a more, ah...metaphysical plane of existence than this one."

Xenia frowns. "But you've been here with me like, 24-7. That's not normal. Like I said with Rachel, she barely ever showed up, sometimes she went months between appearances even when I was actually asking for her!"

Guy bobs up and down in a shrug. "Different systems, different rules. I believe part of it has to do with the more constant dangers a dungeon may face. A Hero, as I understand it, may very well go for months without major battles, beyond casual encounters with minor monsters. A well-known dungeon meanwhile could end up fighting half a dozen adventurer parties at a time, for months at a stretch. It would become impossible to both expand the dungeon and keep track of intruders at the same time."

Xenia rubs her forehead at the thought. "God, people in my house all day long? I'm not that much of an introvert but that's a bit much." She pauses to stretch a bit, then summons a stone table next to her seat. "Well, I'm nearly tapped on mana, and it's a long while yet til the midnight recharge. If we're stuck hanging out together, wanna play some cards? I can teach you poker...with...cards made of wood?" A grimace crosses her face. "Maybe a dice game? I bet I can make some cool bone dice."

Guy slides on over with a curious air. "A gambling game? I suppose we could make all the currency we need, though that perhaps degrades the stakes."

Xenia grins. "Then we'll just have to find something more interesting to bet..."

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

FAR TO THE SOUTH

Within the Domain of the Dragonlord there exists a large number of geologically active areas, one of which is known in particular for its colorful chemical pools. The noxious gasses they produce would be quickly fatal for most mortals, let alone the acidity and heat if one were to fall into them, but there is one race in particular which thrives in this environment. However, despite the populated nature of the region, there are remarkably few structures of any kind. Few...but not none. At just around noon, a red-skinned bat flies up to one of the largest of those in the region - a rocky mesa containing a giant door in one side, guarding entrance to the massive facility within.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

As it lands on the road leading up to the door, the bat changes into the form of an equally red-skinned woman. Her long black hair matches the color of her showy dress, a garment that would look more at place at a formal evening event than out in such a toxic environment, but if the atmosphere disagrees with her she manages not to show it. As the bat wings melt into her bare back, horns begin to emerge from her forehead, sitting just above her golden yellow eyes. Turning those eyes towards the massive gate before her, she announces herself in a regal tone of voice. "Salutations, Caustic Cavern. I am here to meet with the ambassadorial candidates, if they are ready."

A figure carved into the gate, that of a golden cobra's head, responds in a hissing and feminine voice. "Greetings to you, Lady Darktouched. It has been some time since you have intruded us, has it not? The candidates are in Assembly Room B, if you remember the way."

The succubus nods her head. "It has been some time, but I do remember the way, thank you." The cobra nods in return and the gate swings open, allowing the woman to step inside. This place, Caustic Cavern, is the primary military facility of the region, although its primary usage is for training rather than combat. It's a form of training that Lady Cerise Darktouched has to participate in even now as she walks the dungeon's halls, altering her path to not step on invisible traps, tossing out treats from a bag at her hip to placate boss-level monsters, and solving a math-based puzzle before she can actually enter the assembly hall wing. It's unusual for a military structure to have traps that primarily work against its own defenders, but the occasional loss of a careless garrison soldier is simply the cost of doing business - even Collaborator Dungeons don't work for free, after all. In any case, if the traps are occasionally fatal to the staff who live in the place, their usefulness against an actual 'intruder' would be far more devastating.

Eventually she makes it to Assembly Room B, where she finds a dozen of the local residents standing around and conversing while awaiting her arrival. Each of them a slime, although in quite the variety of colors - yellow, green, red, orange, purple, and pink are all represented. Each of them turns and gives Cerise a slight bow as they notice her arrival, and a pink one takes charge of welcoming her. "Welcome, Emissary Darktouched! All of the candidates have gathered, as the Dragonlord requested. Can we offer you some refreshments or...other treats before we begin?"

Cerise eyes the pink slime, a humanoid figure around five and a half feet tall like the others, but with a form far more aggressively feminine than even those others in the room with similar presentations. As none of the others in the room are wearing much more than the occasional hat, vest or other random piece of equipment, the comparison is an easy one to make. "...Perhaps just some water if you would, I don't believe we have time for more than that, sadly. Speaking of, while you do that I'll need to go right ahead and begin."

The slime nods, and as a drink is procured, Cerise starts her speech. "As you know, you have been called here for the chance to serve as ambassadors. Our agents have informed us that a new dungeon has recently been born - on Mount Faralis." At that, surprised whispers break out across the room, and Cerise allows them to continue for a moment before resuming. "A dungeon which has apparently already claimed the majority of a Valleylander scouting party. The Rainlanders have only recently become aware of the dungeon, and have not yet been able to fully secure it. That allows us a very brief window of opportunity to move undetected, by which I mean I will be heading out this very night. The first objective of this mission is simple intelligence-gathering - confirm that the dungeon indeed exists, what form it has taken so far, and what sort of personality it may have. The second objective is to try and open diplomatic relations. Its location means that Collaborator status is not currently in the cards, but the Dragonlord believes it can still serve of use to us."

She steps forward and places three cloth sacks on the table in the center of the room. "I require three of you to join me on this mission. I am looking for a varied skill base, but you are all the best of your kind in your given specialties, so I know you are all qualified for the task. Before I proceed with the test, are there any present who do not wish to take on an assignment of this sort?"

The slimes look around at reach other, but a red-colored woman seems to answer for the group. "Pretty sure there isn't another opportunity coming along like this in our lifetimes, haha! Let's get on with it!"

Cerise smiles, though in a somewhat sad fashion. "Very well. Ullussus, would you do the honors?" At the question, the form of an ideal draconic male suddenly materializes in the room. Eight feet tall and solidly built with muscle, the main detail marking him different from a true draconic is the wild coloring of his scales, which matches the bright blots of the chemical pools outside. That, and the fact that his well-proportioned body is very unproportioned in a particular respect, one made more obvious by the fact that the man is wearing even less clothing than the slimes. He gives Cerise a grin full of sharp and shiny teeth, even as she finds herself blushing and looking towards a fireplace on the opposite side of the room.

"As you request, Lady Darktouched." The slimes line up along one side of the room, and one by one the man steps before each one of them, placing an open palm on their chests - or even within their chests, really, as he pushes with enough pressure to indent into their volatile forms. As he does so the slimes react as if they were caught in an electric current, their bodies going rigid and twitchy, vibrations rippling along their skins. Each test last for only ten seconds or so before he moves on to the next, so within a few minutes it's done. At the end, he points to three slimes, a red, a yellow and a green. "These three are the weakest souls of the assembled."

Cerise eyes them to confirm that each is of a different class, providing the assortment she requires. "Very well, I agree with the selections. You three, you have two hours to make what arrangements you require. The rest of you are dismissed and may return to your homes." The selected trio cheer and hug each other to the congratulations of the rest of the group, and there's mentions of a very quick celebration at the dungeon tavern as the crowd files out. Eventually, only Cerise and Ullussus remain.

"I definitely remember you wearing more clothing than this, Dungeon Master."

The still-grinning draconic walks closer to her before leaning against the heavy conference table. "What can I say? Perhaps my immodest slime residents are rubbing off on me. Or perhaps I was just hoping to impress an old friend. Brings back memories, doesn't it? I recall when you made such a trip down to my own core chamber, once."

Cerise chuckles. "I was only a mere Dark Agent at the time, and you weren't capable of your own avatar creation. I see you've spent quite a bit of time practicing since gaining that skill. Sadly, if you're hoping to reminiscence, I'm afraid as I told the other, I simply don't have time today."

"I recall you telling the winners they had two hours before they needed to return...?" He makes the comment with a question on his face, but the answer is equally plain on Cerise's. "...Well, that's a shame. I do hope you have time for a social visit in the future, in the meantime, I find myself quite jealous of the newly-born."

Cerise smiles but shakes her head. "Do not become too jealous yet, Ullussus. We still have to see how reasonable this new dungeon can be..."