《The Laughing Dungeon》


 Prologue

    Prologue


    ¡°Either I mistake your shape and making quite,


    Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite


    Call''d Robin Goodfellow: are not you he. . . ?¡±


    - Fairy, A Midsummer Night¡¯s Dream


    In the mid 6th century B.C.E. (Before Cerulean Empire), the 5th Archmage, Vendri the Green, created the modern dungeon. Using what would now be considered questionable experimental methods involving gemstones and the trapped souls of animals or magical beasts, he set out to create A.I. or Arcane Intelligence, a type of magic following specific rules with the capability to grow as it consumed mana and energy from the external world with the goal that the object would eventually gain sentience. This experimentation eventually succeeded, as we know, with dangerous results. Vendri himself and most of his notes fell prey to the first dungeon he created, which is now known colloquially as the famous Wizard¡¯s Tower, the oldest and highest level dungeon in the world. Since the inception of Arcane Intelligence in the form of dungeons, the ruleset seems to have replicated itself and become naturally occurring. Dungeons can be found around the world, and new ones awaken with relative geological frequency. While usually deadly, such a place can provide a significant economic boon to the region it occupies. However, some dungeons prove to be such a plague on the surrounding lands that no expense is spared to capture the stones, which can be used to fuel further A.I. research or re-written to support systems that allow many modern magical amenities to function.


    - Introduction to A Brief History of Dungeons by the 17th Archmage, Evony the Red, 1396 C.E.


    A small humanoid creature about two and a half feet tall, a fae, struggled against his bonds. A pair of cold iron manacles around his wrists prevented the use of his innate magic while an enchanted gag kept him from casting any spell he knew that required an incantation. The metal burned against his skin. He glared at a hunched over human in dark robes as the vile creature read from a book and measured out bits and pieces of various plants and preserved animal parts from various vials on a cracked stone table that looked like it had once been a resting place for some long forgotten hero. Now it was covered in candles, melted wax, scrolls, and various spell components. He was fairly certain he was intended to become one of them.


    A fire burned in the middle of the room, casting light that danced with the shadows and didn¡¯t quite reach into the pitch black corners. The fae could see that this had once been a memorial chamber of some sort, built at the end of a short natural cave system. His captor¡¯s light had shown him stalactites and stalagmites like teeth in the mouth of an unusual beast as he had been dragged down to this room of carved stone. He figured it had likely belonged to dwarves once. He would have spit at the thought if not for the gag in his mouth. Dwarves. They always smelled of metal.


    Red flames that pierce the dark and feed on night,


    Prance and play, prey on this foolish mortal¡¯s sight.


    The fae strained his thoughts, willing his magic to cause the human to hallucinate. Without his magic bound by cold iron, it would have been a simple thing to twist the animal¡¯s mind and conjure visions of whatever it feared or desired most. It was after all, what he was known for, and his favorite past time. It wasn¡¯t that he disliked humans, per se. The one¡¯s he encountered were just gullible and weak-minded. They made great playthings to amuse himself with, and if one died from time to time, well, that was on them for falling for his tricks. Certainly no one among the fae faulted him for it.


    Red flames that pierce the dark and feed on night,


    Prance and play, prey on this foolish mortal¡¯s sight.


    He repeated his thought like a mantra, over and over, as if sheer stubbornness would overpower the very laws of nature. Rules were made to be broken. He would not resign himself to his fate.


    The human brought out a large red gem from a bag tied to a belt on its side. The gem was about six inches from point to point, shaped like two elongated pyramids connected at the base, with eight facets. Each facet bore a rune that seemed to drink in the light. As soon as it was free from the bag the fae immediately felt something tugging at him. His eyes widened as he recognized the runes for fae and soul. The thing was soul stone. The monster was going to trap his soul in it!


    Red flames that pierce the dark and feed on night,


    Prance and play, prey on this foolish mortal¡¯s sight.


    The captive screamed his spell frantically in his mind, while another part of his mind thought, no, no, no, no, no, no. The human mage began to chant and gesture, and several of the components on the table turned to glowing, magically infused dust and swirled into the carved runes. A darker red light began to pulse in the center of the crystal. The fae felt the pull get stronger. As the chant continued, the stone rose into the air and hung there. It began to spin gently.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°Now for you, fairy¡± the human said to his prisoner as his chant ended and the soul stone hung above the table.


    ¡°Fmrhlrm hymm!¡± the fae responded into the gag, struggling physically against his bonds and repeating his spell internally. To his surprise, he felt the magic spark briefly before it died this time. Hope grew in his chest and he glared spitefully at the human. It continued talking. ¡°It took three months to prepare this stone, and another three to find the right town beset by fairies and prepare the right trap for you. And you walked right into it!¡± the creature cackled with glee.


    The fae stared in disbelief at the human. It was insane. What could possibly be worth six months of effort? Were humans really that bad at magic? Six months of work for a soul stone? What was the human going to do with it? ¡°Feh!¡± he growled into the gag. None of the fae liked the derogatory, ¡®fairy¡¯. If he got out of this somehow, he was going to entice this human with its greatest desire right into a man-eating vine and watch him choke on the irony.


    The human ignored his attempts at speech and dragged the fae¡¯s small frame into the center of a mystic circle carved into the stone next to the table. Runes and other various magical diagrams had been painstakingly etched into the floor. The fae imagined this had taken another three months or so. Insane. From where he lay on his side, he could see two of the runes clearly. One said hold. Another, bind. He was admittedly curious. Those were usually runes written into a summoning circle. However, he wasn¡¯t curious enough to want to die to find out.


    A new incantation broke over the crackle and snap of the fire. This one was in a language the fae did not recognize, but the guttural sound of it felt the way he imagined swallowing cold iron filings would feel. He swallowed hard, forcing the contents of his stomach to stay down. It would not do for the great trickster of the fae to drown in his own vomit. Once his gorge was under control, he noticed the pull again, as if something inside him was being drawn out. He tried to kick and roll out of the circle, but his bonds were too tight.


    As the chant grew louder and longer, the fae stopped his physical struggle and returned to his mantra. Again, he felt the magic begin, impossibly, then fail again. The mage¡¯s chant ended and suddenly the fae found himself looking down at his body. He looked around and took in the room again.


    The architecture was clearly dwarven, as he had thought, though the bricks of the walls had been hastily carved, so they were only bricks in appearance, rather than separate from the stone around them. Four pillars with dwarven reliefs supported the room and two steps led up to a dais that ran from wall to wall and took up a quarter of the space. The stone table sat in the center of the dias, directly across from a set of metal double doors a tall human would have had to duck through. An out of place, lavish bed sat against one wall, and dark oak bookshelves sat on either side of it. The bookshelves only held one or two books, several shelves of jars and vials, and what looked like a human skull.


    He noticed the soul stone was spinning faster now, just fast enough to make the runes hard to read. His spirit felt drawn to it, but whatever force had pulled him out his body was holding him in place. He tried to will his incorporeal form to move, but failed. The human was nodding and talking to itself in a pleased tone. It flipped through the pages of the book, apparently looking for the next spell. Its search ended on a page in an unfamiliar language, but on the page opposite the fae saw a picture of two of the sides of the soul stone the prisoner hadn¡¯t seen before. The runes on the facets read ¡°bond, slave, dungeon, stone¡±. Oh, no, there was no way he was letting that happen.


    Red flames that pierce the dark and feed on night,


    Prance and play, prey on this foolish mortal¡¯s sight.


    This time he felt the magic pulse out across the room and settle on the human as it began to read the next incantation. Its eyes glowed fae gold for a brief moment, but the creature failed to notice. The fire popped loudly and the flames danced a little more frantically than before. The spirit of the fae smirked as it floated, suspended above the circle. He could tell his magic reserves were spent, so he didn¡¯t bother to try again. Whatever happened now, happened.


    ¡°Alkr dra ak vieldr van, grolder vennek fahn da fenndas rak!¡± the human began. It sounded like nonsense to the fae. In all his years of existence, he had never heard such a language. Maybe the crazy human had made it up? But whatever it was, it was working. The crystal spun faster and the dark red light inside it pulsed like a heart beat and the fae¡¯s spirit started felt its pull grow stronger. The chant continued. His spirit felt whatever connection it had to its physical form sever. The human began the incantation again, and the magical energy and the force drawing the fae into crystal strengthened and he felt himself begin to drift toward it.


    ¡°Alkyr dra ak vieldr van, grolder vennek fahn da fenndas mein!¡± the human said as it began the chant a third. The fae grinned wickedly. This was what he had been waiting for. The mage finished its spell, throwing its arms into the air and crying out the name of one of the human race¡¯s dark gods.


    ¡°Mourne!¡±


    That was when things started to go very, very wrong. The dark red light at the heart of the soulstone shot out like tendrils from the stone in every direction. One plunged deep into the human¡¯s chest while another somehow wrapped itself around the fae¡¯s spiritual body. The human screamed, ¡°No, no, no, no, no!¡± and whipped its head to look at the fae¡¯s ghost. ¡°What did you do?¡± it cried helplessly. It was cut off before it could speak again as the tendril of blood toned light ripped the human¡¯s soul out and pulled it into spinning crystal. It spun faster and faster. The fae smirked, in spite of its own predicament. Stupid humans.


    The soul stone was now glowing like a red sun. If the fae had still been in a mortal form, it would have blinded him. The strand of light wrapped around his spirit pulled him into the crystal. It drew him in slower than before, the dark red light filling the stone as it did, until the glow in the room dimmed as the brighter light was forced through the murky lens. When all but the torso of his incorporeal form had been consumed, the suction suddenly ceased. The fae struggled to pull away, not knowing what had happened. Without slowing down, the soul stone came to a complete stop.


    Then it exploded.

 Chapter One

    Chapter One


    ¡°Thou speak''st aright;


    I am that merry wanderer of the night.¡±


    -Puck, A Midsummer Night¡¯s Dream


    ¡°I,¡± the being thought. The rest was darkness. It was a disembodied thought. One piece of a whole. Time passed.


    ¡°I am,¡± it thought this time. That thought was better. It felt right. But something was still missing. Time passed.


    ¡°I am Puck,¡± it thought, and it opened its eyes. Awareness flood through the being all at once, giving it a pounding headache. There was a room. A bed. A long dead fire. Bookshelves. Pieces. Things. Doors. A stone table. The earth around the room. It could feel the earth! A worm crawled through the earth. As an instinct, the consciousness that was Puck ate the worm. Its essence rushed into Puck. The headache lessened infinitesimally. Puck shut his eyes again, concentrated, and opened them again. His awareness focused.


    A small creature with two legs, two arms, and delicate wings kneeled on the stone table, fitting fragments of a red gemstone together. A pixie, Puck thought, though how he knew what a pixie was, he had no clue. The stone had the remains strange symbols on it that nagged at Puck¡¯s mind, but were otherwise unfamiliar. There were large cracks in the stone and pieces missing, but it was nearly whole.


    ¡°Hello?¡± the pixie said to the stone. ¡°Are you there? Please be there.¡± Its hands glowed as it used some kind of ability on the crystal. Two of the pieces fused together, but left a small fissure where some of the mass was missing.


    ¡°Hello? Dungeon?¡± the pixie pleaded. After no answer came, the pixie broke down sobbing on the stone.


    ¡°Who are you talking to?¡± asked Puck, irritated. The pixie¡¯s sobs were not helping his headache.


    The startled pixie shot into the air and whirled. ¡°Who said that?¡±


    Puck stepped out from behind one of the pillars. ¡°I am Puck. I am. . .¡± he trailed off. He didn¡¯t know anything else.


    The pixie stared at him. ¡°You¡¯re a ghost!¡± It flew back ten feet.


    Puck shrugged. With a thought that felt natural, he decided he wanted to be sitting on the table, and was only slightly surprised when a moment later he actually was. He didn¡¯t sink through, which made him feel rather unghostlike.


    ¡°What I am is someone with a headache. Now who are you, why are you talking to yourself, and what are you doing in this place?¡± Puck distinctly felt that this room and the space around it was his and that this lesser fae was an outsider. Lesser fae? He shook his head clear. It didn¡¯t work.


    The pixie looked at him strangely. Then it bent its neck and looked closer. Puck felt a little strange, like it was looking through him. He looked at his hands. They were decidedly spectral. Translucent. He could vaguely see his legs, and the table through them. Maybe the pixie is looking through me, he thought.


    ¡°Are you the dungeon?¡± the pixie asked.


    ¡°Do I look like a dungeon?¡± Puck asked. He looked closer at the pixie. In spite of the darkness, he had no problems making out its features. It was male, with brown hair and skin the tone and texture of cracked earth. It had the wings of a moth, soft and furry, with markings that looked like the eyes of some kind of creature.


    ¡°No,¡± the pixie replied. Its shoulders sagged in disappointment.


    ¡°Are you going to answer my questions?¡±


    ¡°I am Dixon. A dungeon pixie. I came here to bond with the dungeon.¡±


    ¡°Well, I fear there is no dungeon here. You can leave now.¡±


    A strange image appeared in the back of Puck¡¯s consciousness. It looked like a scroll. He tried to look at it. It read:


    You wish to deny the bond with Dixon? This decision is final. Yes/No?


    Puck blinked. That was weird. Of course he wished to deny the bond. Yes. He wasn¡¯t bonding with some strange pixie trespassing in his home. Dixon looked off to the side for a moment, then stared at him with huge eyes.


    ¡°What did you just do? NO! HOW?¡± Dixon cried out.


    Puck winced, the sound made his headache worse. Also, he could suddenly sense the foreign presence of the pixie within himself, not just visually. The sensation was disconcerting, as he could clearly see the pixie hovering a distance away. ¡°If you don¡¯t start talking now, I will haunt you and turn your life into a living hell. I will scream when you lay your head down to sleep, cause your skin to itch, your hair to fall, and other torments fell,¡± he growled. Another scroll appeared.


    You have vowed to torment Dixon until you are satisfied with the answers to his questions. Are you sure? Yes/No?


    What was this thing? Puck shook his head again in confusion but nodded to the question on the scroll. It faded away.


    ¡°Why would you do that?¡± the pixie screamed at him. ¡°What did I ever do to you?¡±


    Puck¡¯s headache raged. He yelled at Dixon. ¡°Enough of all your empty headed talk. Let your tongue be silent or be forced to walk.¡±


    Power surged from Puck and into the pixie. The tiny creature opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. At nearly the same moment, his wings froze in place and he dropped to the ground with a thump. Puck would have laughed, but he was astounded. How had that happened? Then his headache grew exponentially and everything went dark again.


    Something passed through Puck¡¯s cheek. He swatted at it, but came into contact with nothing. A second later, something passed through his cheek again. He opened his eyes to discover he was lying on the floor. Directly in front of him was a very angry looking pixie wielding a charred twig.


    ¡°What?¡± Puck asked. The headache had faded.


    The pixie, Dixon, he remembered, said something, but no sound came out.


    ¡°What?¡± Puck asked again. Dixon shoved the stick through Puck¡¯s eye. The sensation was disconcerting, but not painful. The pixie pointed at his own throat with his free hand, then at Puck.


    ¡°Oh,¡± the spirit said as he remembered earlier events. He sat up. ¡°You have my permission to speak.¡±


    ¡°What kind of monster are you?¡± Dixon screamed.


    ¡°I can change my mind,¡± Puck pointed out.


    The pixie calmed himself with noticeable effort. ¡°What. Are. You?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Puck asked more than stated.


    ¡°Just look, you idiot!¡± Dixon shouted.


    Puck glared at the pixie, but denied his urge to shut the tiny creature up again. ¡°What do you mean, look?¡± he asked. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°Oh, for the love of Oberon. Just think about looking at your dungeon scroll,¡± the pixie huffed in frustration.


    ¡°Dungeon scroll?¡± Puck asked aloud. Another scroll appeared in his consciousness.


    Name: Puck  Level: 1  Classification: Fae Dungeon


    Bonds: 0 Creatures: 0 Rooms: 2


    Abilities: Command Lesser Fae  Treasure: None


    ¡°What in the hells is a fae dungeon? What in the hells is this scroll?¡±


    ¡°A fae dungeon?¡± Dixon asked. ¡°That¡¯s impossible.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what the bloody thing says. Level 1. Fae dungeon. Zero bonds. Zero Creatures. Two rooms. No treasure.¡± He left the ability out intentionally. It was fairly obvious anyway.


    The pixie was staring at him again, which irritated him.


    ¡°What?¡± Puck grumbled.


    ¡°How are you not in a dungeon stone?¡± Dixon mused.


    The fae spirit stood up angrily. He towered over the pixie at five times its six inch height. Dixon jumped back as if to fly away, but his wings still didn¡¯t work so he fell on his butt. He caught himself with his hands before he went over on his back.


    Puck laughed cruelly and cursed the little fae again. ¡°When comfort lulls with its gentle best, may merciless Puck¡¯s pinches haunt your rest.¡± Magic surged in the room again, but this time caused no headache. Dixon jumped to his feet with a cry.


    ¡°How? No, sorry.¡± The pixie stopped himself.


    ¡°Answers. What are you doing in my home?¡± Puck demanded.


    ¡°First,¡± the tiny creature began resentfully, ¡°You ARE your home. You should be able to feel the area around your, uh. . . stone. . . as if it was a part of you.¡±


    ¡°I can feel this entire room,¡± Puck stated. ¡°And I am not a stone.¡±


    ¡°The entire room? But you¡¯re a newborn dungeon. Level 1.¡± The pixie paused to think. ¡°Do you remember anything from before?¡±


    ¡°Before what? I remember waking up, seeing you talking to yourself. . .¡± A vague memory interrupted Puck¡¯s train of thought. Spinning. A pull. An explosion. Darkness. He said as much to Dixon.


    ¡°The explosion must have done it! It must have directed the channeled magical energy into your spirit and the walls.¡± The pixie flapped his wings excitedly. His face fell as the curse binding them kept him from flying. ¡°Are you going to let me go?¡± he asked Puck.


    ¡°When I¡¯m done with you. Maybe.¡± Puck smirked.


    Dixon sighed and sat down on the floor. He hadn¡¯t been seated for long when he jerked in surprise as invisible fingers pinched him. ¡°Who are you?¡± he asked again, almost rhetorically.


    ¡°Puck.¡± Puck said again.


    ¡°Puck is a famous member of the Fae Court who has been dead for 500 years. You can¡¯t be. . .¡± The pixie¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°Great Oberon! You must be THE Puck. Robin Goodfellow. This is what happened to you. You became a dungeon!¡±


    ¡°Sure. I am a the spirit of a dead fae who became a dungeon. What does that even mean, sprite?¡±


    ¡°If you had bonded with me, I could have helped you.¡± Dixon said stubbornly. ¡°But now, we¡¯re both screwed.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re going to help me anyway, if you ever want to fly again,¡± the spirit said.


    ¡°If I don¡¯t bond with a dungeon soon, I will starve to death. The only unbonded dungeon in the region refused the bond.¡± Dixon¡¯s eyes shined with accusation.


    Puck shrugged. He hadn¡¯t known any better, and still didn¡¯t think he needed the pixie¡¯s help. He was a spirit, and didn¡¯t think anything could touch him. Certainly the pixie¡¯s stick had gone right through his incorporeal form. The pixie¡¯s hunger issues weren¡¯t his concern.


    ¡°So eat a mushroom. There are a few growing in the corner.¡±


    The pixie looked at him mind-boggled, while shifting from side to side to keep from being pinched. ¡°Dungeon pixies can¡¯t eat. We exist in a symbiotic relationship with dungeons, feeding off excess mana from our bonded dungeon.¡±


    Puck ignored the information. ¡°What exactly is a dungeon? You haven¡¯t answered me yet, and I¡¯m running out of curses.¡±


    ¡°A dungeon is a sentient arcane intelligence, or A.I. usually bound to a dungeon stone, capable of changing the environment within its zone of influence through the innate use of magic. It can absorb creatures to grow stronger, then recreate them via magical means in order to protect itself. It can also absorb and create treasure.¡±


    ¡°Can dungeons cast spells?¡± Puck asked.


    ¡°I would have said no, before you did it. Creatures the dungeon creates sometimes can. Traps created by the dungeon can recreate certain spell effects. But you¡¯re also the only dungeon in existence that isn¡¯t bound to its stone. The only fae dungeon in history and the only dungeon I¡¯ve ever heard of created from a sentient soul. So who knows what your rules are.¡±


    ¡°If I can absorb items, why don¡¯t I have any treasure? There are a lot of things in this room,¡± the dungeon pointed out.


    The pixie shrugged, stood and started to pace back and forth. ¡°Have you tried?¡±


    ¡°How do I do that?¡±


    ¡°Just focus on the object you want to absorb. That should be enough.¡±


    Puck remembered the worm he had consumed as he awoke and imagined it was probably similar. But what to absorb? He looked around his room. A pair of black iron manacles rested on the floor, causing a minor itch in his consciousness as he became aware of them. A huge bed took up part of the room, with bookshelves and various items on them. A tome sat on the table next to him. Other than a lot of dust, everything seemed well preserved for having been there at least 500 years. He looked at the book. It was written in a combination of runes and a strange language he didn¡¯t know. He decided to try the book. Puck concentrated on its presence in his awareness. It loomed large in his mind as he attempted to consume it like he had the worm. Its edges blurred. A scroll appeared in the back of his consciousness.


    Ancient Spellbook: Because this item was affected by the spell that bound your soul to the dungeon, it is a unique part of you and cannot be absorbed. It will, however, allow you to use runes and learn one school of magic from its pages. Would you like to do so now? Yes/no?


    Puck nodded yes. The words faded and new ones appeared.


    You may learn one of the following schools of magic from the Ancient Spellbook: Illusion or Summoning. Which do you choose?


    Illusion. Puck answered so fast he didn¡¯t have time to think about it or weigh the decision. The scroll changed again.


    You have gained the ability [Illusion I]. You have learned the spell [Glamour].


    Puck smiled as the scroll faded. This was perfect. It felt right. He looked at his Dungeon Scroll again.


    Name: Puck  Level: 1  Classification: Fae Dungeon


    Bonds: 0 Creatures: 0 Rooms: 1


    Abilities: Command Lesser Fae, Illusion I


    Spells: Glamour


    Treasure: None


    ¡°Did it work?¡± Dixon¡¯s voice asked, breaking Puck¡¯s concentration.


    The taller sprite looked at the pixie and shook his head. ¡°No. Apparently it¡¯s considered a permanent part of me. ¡± He chose not to tell him about the spell. Curiosity got the better of him and he focused on Dixon and tried to absorb him. A scroll appeared.


    You cannot absorb living or unliving sentients without their consent.


    Puck shrugged, his curiosity sated. He looked around the room and decided to try to absorb something else. Hmm. Maybe the bed. His brow furrowed as he concentrated on ¡°eating¡± the bed. As he watched, it crumbled into dust, and the dust faded away. A new scroll read:


    You have gained Noble¡¯s Mahogany Bed (200 lbs.) as Treasure. You can now include this in drops from your Monsters. It is too big to be included in Chests.


    ¡°Dixon, what is this about monsters and chests?¡± he asked the pixie, who paced from one side to the next on the floor. Dixon¡¯s back was turned and as he looked over his shoulder to reply to Puck, he unwittingly walked into the strange circle on the floor. ¡°Oh. You can use your mana to create. . .¡± he began as he turned around and ran into an invisible wall at the edge of the markings. ¡°What the. . .¡± The tiny sprite raised his hands and pressed against the invisible force. ¡°What did you do? What did I do to deserve this?¡± he yelled as he slammed his fists against the walls of his prison.


    ¡°Umm.¡± Puck started. ¡°What did YOU do? I was busy turning a bed into a treasure.¡±


    Dixon looked down at the symbols and sighed then jumped as Puck¡¯s curse pinched him again. ¡°I walked into an active binding circle. A 500 year old active binding circle.¡± He read some of the runes. ¡°A 500 year old active binding circle specifically tuned to holding live fae.¡± He shook his head in frustration and sadness. ¡°I guess we know what happened to you, now.¡± He peered at the cold iron manacles lying on the floor in the circle nearby and sighed again. ¡°This is officially my worst nightmare.¡±


    Puck laughed.

 Chapter Two

    While Dixon sullenly paced the confines of his new prison, carefully avoiding any contact with the cold iron manacles on the floor, Puck wandered about the room to take a closer look at the items in his dungeon. As he concentrated he could both literally see them and either ¡°see¡± them as a part of his overall self, or feel them the way the perfect skipping stone feels in hand before it is launched out over the water. The weight and shape of some things pressed against his consciousness while others, now that he was more aware, felt like an integral part of him, like the book he had learned the Glamour spell from. He could feel it, and the tombstone-turned-altar it rested on as though it was part of his skin. The very walls and their stones, in fact, drifted in and out of his awareness as he paid attention to different parts.


    On the southern wall two heavy dwarven doors hung solidly from their hinges. The doors were metal, some kind of polished bronze, though they hadn¡¯t suffered from any kind of verdigris over the ages. Puck wasn¡¯t certain if that was due to the magic that had created his current state or dwarven craftsmanship. He guessed the latter, as it was doubtful soulstone magic somehow polished metal. They were carved, or had been poured into a mold with dwarven geometric patterning around the outside. The door to his right stood ajar just a foot or so, enough that a standard human could step inside without discomfort. Without thinking, he stepped through. He heard Dixon shout, ¡°Wait!¡± before he did, but Puck ignored him.


    Outside the doors was the long, gently sloping tunnel of a natural cavern. Stalactites hung from the ceiling while stalagmites pushed their hungry way up. Some kind of sediment in the limestone made them glitter as he weaved his way through them. From where he stood, he could see a tiny prick of light where he assumed the tunnel exited. Puck was surprised to find that he could sense the earth around him and extending out. He wasn¡¯t sure if his dungeon form extended all the way to the end, but he was suddenly excited to find out. The spirit of the sprite moved forward as surely as if he¡¯d been a mortal being, noting mushrooms growing here and there, and discovering the tickle of bats and insects that made the cave their home on and in the earth and stone of his walls.


    Puck wondered if these counted as sentients to his absorption magic. He reached out with the part of him that ¡°ate¡± things and absorbed one of the insects. A small thrill of energy filled him. It made him realize he was hungry, though he wasn¡¯t certain how that could be without a physical body. A scroll appeared.


    You have absorbed a Black Beetle. Black Beetle has been added to your list of fauna.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Puck wondered what that meant, but set it aside to ask Dixon later. As he thought it however, the scroll added information.


    Black Beetle: A basic black beetle. Black beetles are a common member of the order coleoptera. Largely a scavenger that eats decaying organic matter of all types. 1 hp .01 dmg.


    Hmm, Puck thought. He was still going to have to ask Dixon. The answer provided more questions than he started with. Not ready to return to the main chamber from his exploration, Puck reached out again with his magic and tried to eat one of the bats. Before it could take hold, he heard a startled shriek and slipped from the grasp of his powers. The cave filled quickly with a tornado of flapping bats headed for the exit. The magic wouldn¡¯t reach much further from his walls when he tried to extend it. The limitation frustrated him as he watched several meals escape. He ate another beetle and felt his energy levels rise a tiny bit again. It still left him hungry, so he attempted to eat one of those mushrooms he felt growing on his floor. Its energy was a little more filling, but he could tell it would take a lot of mushrooms to satisfy him. This time the scroll read:


    You have absorbed a Psilocybin Mushroom. Psilocybin Mushroom has been added to your list of flora.


    And what was a psilocybin mushroom, he asked. . . himself, he guessed. The scroll appeared.


    Psilocybin mushroom: A psychedelic mushroom. Causes hallucinations when ingested. This trait is equally reviled and revered by various members of various species.


    A huge grin crossed Puck¡¯s face. That could be fun. Anything that played tricks on mortal minds was good in his book. He wondered if he could convince Dixon to try one. Puck chuckled at the thought of the pretentious fairy suffering from hallucinations.


    Done with his interest in absorbing things for the moment, the fae dungeon spirit wandered further toward the entrance. It was day outside and from where he stood he could see the hill below his entrance slope gently away out into a rolling meadow valley. A sparse, healthy deciduous forest covered the slope off to his left. He could see nothing else from his current vantage point, so it was time to take a step outside.


    The first step was alright. The second was harder. The third was a strain. Puck pushed forward. Then the force he was pressing against snapped back. His spirit form was launched backward down the tunnel, flying backward until he ricocheted from a stalactite hanging from the ceiling and tumbling backward until he crashed into another. In spite of the lack of physical body, it HURT.


    And the headache was back.

 Chapter Two pointe Five

    And the headache was back. With it, all the energy Puck had consumed from the insects was gone and his hunger reached new heights. Mindlessly reaching out, he consumed every spark of life his magic could touch. All the mushrooms, all the beetles, worms, and other insects he could find. One of the scrolls flashed in the corner of his conscious mind, but through the pain and the ravenous need to feed he didn¡¯t read it. As the energy flowed into him, he could see a glow beneath the skin of his spirit form. His hunger slowly abated until finally he could think again. The sprite¡¯s first rational thought was not a happy one. He was trapped in this dungeon body and couldn¡¯t leave the space he could feel. A dark seed of rage planted itself deep in his consciousness and began to grow.


    When Puck had fully recovered from his latest learning experience, he decided he was no longer interested in walking back to his room and willed himself to his seat on the altar. The magic within him gathered for a few seconds, then he appeared exactly where intended. A small portion of the energy he had taken in dispersed. Dixon was still pacing the binding circle and looked haggard and exhausted. The dungeon had a moment of pity for the foolish creature.


    Vicious fingers have done their best,


    Let the tired find their rest.


    The pixie looked up in surprise, then sat hesitantly on the cold stone. When no magical pinches came, he collapsed with a great sigh, drained from the effort of avoiding Puck¡¯s curse. ¡°You¡¯re as trapped in here as I am,¡± Dixon said condescendingly. ¡°You can expand your influence, but you can never leave. If your stone is removed, your personality gets wiped and though your intelligence and memory lattice remains useable by others for various purposes, you¡¯re basically dead. And what¡¯s left of you may as well be a slave.¡±


    Puck instantly regretted his momentary lapse of kindness. He ignored the impulse to take it out on the pixie. ¡°Have you tried flying out of the circle?¡± he asked.


    Dixon glared at Puck. ¡°I. Can¡¯t. Fly.¡± he reminded the dungeon spirit.


    ¡°Oh. Right.¡±


    What good are wings bound to earth?


    Take flight, child, show the sky your worth.


    When the spell landed, Dixon shot straight up into the air about ten feet at the speed of a hummingbird. He flew cautiously toward the edge of the barrier, only to discover it still held him. The pixie moved up to the ceiling, trailing his hand along the invisible barrier before making a full circle. It was clear he was still trapped. Dixon flew back down and landed gently, shoulders slumped.


    ¡°No such luck,¡± he said morosely.


    ¡°Since you¡¯re stuck here with me, I have another question for you.¡±


    ¡°You really are merciless, aren¡¯t you?¡± Dixon asked rhetorically. ¡°What do you want?¡± His tone was irritated.


    Puck¡¯s eyes narrowed and the pixie held up both hands to show he was backing down. ¡°What does it mean that I added something to my list of fauna or flora?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Oh! You absorbed something out there?¡± Dixon perked up a little.


    The dungeon took a moment to look at his scroll.


    Name: Puck  Level: 1  Classification: Fae Dungeon


    Bonds: 0 Fauna: 5 Flora: 2


    Rooms: 2  Abilities: Command Lesser Fae, Illusion I


    Spells: Glamour


    Treasure: Noble¡¯s Mahogany Bed


    ¡°My scroll says I have five fauna and two flora,¡± Puck answered.


    ¡°Look at your scroll and focus on one of those.¡± the pixie said.


    The sprite took Dixon¡¯s advice and concentrated on the Flora part of his information. The text faded from one set of data to a new one he had never seen before. He read the scroll aloud to the pixie.


    Dungeon Flora


    Total: 2


    Psilocybin mushroom: A psychedelic mushroom. Causes hallucinations when ingested. This trait is equally reviled and revered by various members of various species. Humans in particular are passionately interested in the effects of this fungus, frequently vocally expressing their distaste while indulging when they think no one is looking, as is typical of most human vices.


    Cave moss: This moss grows from the walls and ceilings of caves near the entrance and as deep as light reaches. It can be grown into a variety of styles, from hanging moss to lichen, in spite of the latter technically being a plant-like organism rather than a plant itself. It¡¯s possible such mosses have medicinal properties. It¡¯s equally possible they won¡¯t.


    ¡°Oh, interesting,¡± Dixon said. ¡°I¡¯ve not heard of any dungeons with that kind of mushroom. I suppose that isn¡¯t very interesting when you can summon slimes, killer rabbits, or undead, I guess.¡±


    ¡°Summon what?¡± Puck asked, bemused.


    ¡°Anything you consume, really,¡± the pixie lectured. ¡°Like I mentioned before, you can use the mana you¡¯ve absorbed from the environment or consuming things to summon creatures to protect your dungeon, or grow various herbs or plants. You should try it.¡±


    ¡°Why would I need protecting?¡± The sprite¡¯s eyebrows furrowed.


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. ¡°Adventurers?¡±


    Puck looked at Dixon blankly.


    ¡°You know? Treasure hunters? Grave robbers? Archaeologists? Murder-hobos?¡±


    ¡°What would they want? It¡¯s not like I have anything but junk in here.¡± Puck swept his hand in an arc, gesturing at the room.¡±


    ¡°Well, while not everything in here is junk, technically YOU are quite valuable.¡±


    Puck was pretty sure Dixon muttered, ¡°Or you¡¯re supposed to be,¡± under his breath.


    ¡°Go on,¡± the dungeon said with a note of warning in his voice.


    ¡°Dungeon crystals, like that broken one on the altar, fetch an incredible price in major cities. Dungeon crystals removed from their dungeon are often enslaved and re-programmed to manage city sewer systems or military training centers and the like. Less useful ones have their intelligence wiped and their empty crystals are used for mana batteries. It¡¯s a horrific end to a dungeon.¡± Dixon blanched at the thought.


    ¡°Do I even need to worry about that? I¡¯m obviously not living in a crystal,¡± Puck pointed out.


    ¡°I have no idea. You¡¯re something new, but still a dungeon. I¡¯d rather be safe than sorry, if I were you.¡±


    ¡°Ok. So how does a dungeon protect itself?¡± the dungeon asked.


    ¡°Summoning/creating monsters, deadly plants, traps, etc.¡±


    ¡°Casting spells?¡±


    ¡°Well, I guess you can.¡±


    Puck thought about that for a minute. According to the scroll, Command Lesser Fae was an ability, and while Dixon probably thought of the results as spells Puck had cast, the dungeon magic seemed to differentiate it from the spell in his list, Glamour. A spell he had yet to cast, come to think of it. He concentrated on the word on his scroll.


    Glamour: This spell allows you to magically ¡°pull the wool¡± over someone¡¯s eyes. They will see, smell and hear the reality you imagined when casting the spell. At higher levels of the Illusion ability, the glamour will seem completely tangible and include taste sensations. At the highest levels, the victim¡¯s mind will experience the pain of illusionary wounds and weak minds may even experience death. True vision negates this effect.


    The heat and flare of a fire burned quickly through Puck¡¯s memory. With a flash of callous inspiration connected to the memory, he targeted Dixon and decided to try something. The sprite muttered too softly to hear,


    Forever doomed to play the fool,


    Let glamoured sight see the dream come true.


    A surge of mana thrilled through Puck¡¯s senses as some of the total he had drained from the creatures earlier was used up to fuel the spell. A scroll appeared, visible to both Dixon and the mischievous sprite. To Dixon, it read, A dungeon wishes to bond with you. This bond is permanent. Do you wish to bond with the dungeon? Yes/No?


    To Puck it read, A dungeon wishes to include you in its catalog of summonable creatures. This will consume your consciousness and physical form. This is irreversible. Do you wish to sacrifice yourself to the dungeon? Yes/No?


    ¡°Are you serious?¡± The pixie looked up at the sprite with hope in his eyes. ¡°I thought we only had once chance to bond. This should be impossible¡±


    Puck nodded with predatory smile that Dixon saw as the most genuine smile he had ever encountered.


    ¡°Dead serious.¡± Puck shrugged and said truthfully, ¡°And I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m not supposed to be possible either, according to you.¡±


    ¡°True,¡± Dixon responded. ¡°Yes. Yes. Yes!¡± he responded to the scroll.


    The edges of the scroll began to glow and Dixon¡¯s name scrolled across its center as though he had signed a contract. Each end began to roll toward the other until they met in the middle and disappeared into a golden haze that faded quickly. For a moment nothing happened. Dixon was smiling for the first time, excited for a chance at life fulfilling his calling. His excitement didn¡¯t last long. As Puck watched curiously the pixie¡¯s eyes went wide in shock before he screamed as his very being began to disintegrate, leaving only his essence behind. There may have been words in his screams, but Puck couldn¡¯t make them out, and they didn¡¯t last very long. A new scroll appeared.


    You have absorbed a dungeon pixie. A new entry has been added to the universal dungeon catalog. Dungeon pixie, a unique, sentient creature, has been added to your list of fauna. As the first dungeon to absorb a dungeon pixie IN HISTORY, you receive bonus experience.


    P.S. I can feel you laughing about that little trick you played. They call me a monster, but that is one twisted sense of humor you have there, child. You have my attention now. I will be watching your growth with interest.


    The sprite blinked as the scroll disappeared. Puck had not been prepared for some kind of intelligence to be behind the scrolls. He was irked that it had referred to him as a child, but it seemed like there was little he could do about it. Momentarily he thought to ask Dixon if he knew anything about the scrolls being connected to a sentient creature, but remembered before he spoke that, well, Dixon wasn¡¯t there anymore. He smirked at the thought a moment before an unfamiliar sensation pulsed through his consciousness.


    Magical power ebbed through Puck and out to the edges of his awareness of his dungeon as a whole, then flowed back into his spirit form. The energy surged out and back in 4 times before it ceased. His ¡®senses¡¯ tingled and buzzed from the exposure to so much magic and he could feel the mana that had previously filled him pooling at the bottom what he thought of as his ¡®stomach¡¯. It no longer came close to filling him, though the massive emptiness didn¡¯t cause him any sort of insatiable hunger this time. The reserve was apparently more than enough to sustain him, in spite of his new capacity for more. If his ability to glamour Dixon had been an example of his capabilities, he was looking forward to what he might be able to accomplish with more.


    Puck smiled a wicked, mischievous smile.

 Chapter 3

    As the strange sensations started to fade, Puck noticed a veritable sheaf of scrolls at the edge of his consciousness. He concentrated on the first and they all came rushing to the fore. The first four scrolls said just about the same thing.


    You have leveled up. You are now Level 2. You have new abilities to choose from. Would you like to choose them now?


    You have leveled up. You are now Level 3. You have new abilities to choose from. Would you like to choose them now?


    You have leveled up. You are now Level 4. You have new abilities to choose from. Would you like to choose them now?


    You have leveled up. You are now Level 5. You have new abilities to choose from. Would you like to choose them now?


    Puck wondered who in the name of Oberon was in charge of this horseshit. It was seriously obnoxious. He assumed each scroll was related to one of the surges he had experienced. It explained why there were so many, and what they were. It must have somehow been related to adding a dungeon pixie to the universal dungeon catalog, whatever that was. With that thought, the edge of yet another scroll appeared at the bottom of the stack and he growled aloud. Irritated with bureaucracy of it, he begrudgingly answered affirmative to the question in the last of the level up scrolls. A new one unfurled in its place. Considering that Puck had seen the text change on a single scroll, he suspected the presentation was intentional.


    Please choose one Level 2 ability or two Level 1 abilities.


    Level 1:


    Influence I - Improves the rate your influence spreads through the earth surrounding your core and lowers mana/sq.ft costs.


    Environment I - Gain improved control over physical environment under your influence.


    Summons I - Your summoned fauna are stronger and healthier.


    Arborea I - The flora you grow are more resilient, and alchemical ingredients are more potent.


    Lootcraft I - Treasure you create is better quality with improved value.


    Level 2:


    Creature Crafting I - Modify summoned creatures¡¯ physical traits.


    Summon Abilities I - Grant one type of your summoned fauna a Level 1 ability from the Dungeon Fauna Ability Guide. Can be taken more than once for different summons or additional abilities.


    Improved Metawell I - Improves your mana capacity and passive recovery, as well as the amount of mana gained from absorbing flora and fauna.


    Traps I (requires Environment I) - Your traps are more effective and harder to detect or disarm.


    Living Forest I - You can modify your flora and grant animated life to new species you create.


    Puck read through the options once and immediately selected Improved Metawell I. In spite of his awareness reaching into a few yards into the earth surrounding his cave and dwarven tomb/evil mage lair, he still thought of his -self- as being made up of the sprite form and nothing else. If the metawell and mana were part of the sense of power that lead to the pixie¡¯s consumption, he wanted as much as he could get. A prompt on the scroll asked for confirmation and once given, congratulated him on his new ability. He immediately felt the ¡®well¡¯ inside his consciousness deepen, and a steady trickle of mana begin to pour in. It would take quite a while at the rate it was flowing for it to give him a sensation of fullness.


    The next scroll unfurled and interrupted his thoughts. This one began:


    Please choose one Level 3 ability, two Level 2 abilities, three Level 1 abilities, or improve a Level 1 ability, (i.e. Influence I to Influence II).


    Without hesitation or bothering to read any of the Level 3 abilities the dungeon sprite concentrated on improving his Illusion I ability.


    You would like to improve Illusion I to Illusion II. This decision is final. Yes/No?


    He nodded yes. New text was added to the scroll.


    Congratulations. You now have the Illusion II ability. Your spells can now affect multiple beings so that they all share the same hallucination.


    P.S. I hope you know what you¡¯re doing. Most dungeons agonize for hours, if not days or weeks over their leveling path. And they usually choose something a little more practical.


    Puck growled at the extra commentary and dismissed the scroll. Before the next could take up his vision, he felt footsteps brush the edge of his awareness like fingers walking heavily across skin. There were multiple footsteps grouped closely together, so it was impossible for him to determine how many were in the group. When he attempted to bring his awareness to the unknown presence, nothing happened. His vision was apparently limited to the presence of his semi-corporeal form, but he could still feel the invaders with each step they took. His brow furrowed and he willed himself into the tunnel.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The dungeon¡¯s spirit floated among the stalactites of his entryway, looking down on a quartet of short, green-grey skinned humanoids. Goblins, Puck thought to himself. Vermin. Nearly as bad as gnomes. He was certain that if he let them settle in, they would breed like rabbits and smell the place up worse than dwarves. Once they had made a home in his lair he would never be able to get rid of them. With only a little over a half mile of cavern, he would have to do so quickly. He peered closer as they shuffled slowly down the slope toward his main room. One of the goblins trailed a little behind the others, and seemed to be wounded. A shallow cut that looked like a sword wound on the deltoid of its right arm slowly oozed red blood. Its left hand was pressed against its stomach, as if holding another wound. The others looked disheveled and exhausted, as though they had all been running from something. It gave Puck an idea.


    Let the weak and wounded play the part


    Of the hunter to the goblin¡¯s hart.


    With a slight surge of mana, the wounded goblin took on the appearance of a random human dressed in leather armor and holding a short sword. It continued to stumble along, unaware of its change in appearance. The illusion masking it crept along with the appearance of a rogue stealthily preparing to assassinate one of the monsters from behind. This went on for about a minute before the goblin in the front turned to say something to its companions and screeched at the sight of the human. The two other goblins whirled and all three brandished weapons. The closest to the illusion carried a cudgel, the next a large femur from some animal with the knobs at the end filed to points, and the leader carried a rusty poignard that looked like a short sword in its hand. The fourth turned as well to look behind, but seeing nothing, turned back to its fellows. It began to talk raising its hands to calm its friends, and the illusion copied, making threats instead. The three armed goblins jumped the fourth, clubs descending and dagger stabbing again and again until the ¡®human¡¯ fell dead to the ground. As it died, the illusion faded and the mangled body of their comrade was left lying on the ground.


    As Puck watched, the goblins immediately started bickering with each other in their own language as they stood over the corpse. To Puck¡¯s surprise he found he understood every word, though he was fairly certain he¡¯d never heard a word of Goblin in his life. He assumed it was part of the dungeon system magic. The argument was largely regarding confusion rather than blame, so Puck decided it was better to add to it than let it settle.


    Let these monstrous voices on their dismal stage


    Speak in tongues of blame and rage.


    The leader of the goblins spoke and Puck paid attention to its words for the first time.


    ¡°You murdered Mugnock, you fuck!¡± the goblin said to the goblin carrying the bone mace, though its mouth clearly formed a different set of words.


    ¡°You murdered him just as much as I did,¡± the goblin at the other end of the accusation protested, not noticing the discrepancy between its leaders words and the movement of its lips.


    The leader turned on the goblin with the cudgel with a look of consternation. It clearly heard the new words coming out of its mouth and was disturbed.


    ¡°And you, you thought it¡¯d be a good idea to just help mash his brains?¡± the leader appeared to say. It raised its hands into the air in a helpless shrug.


    ¡°What the fuck? We thought he was one of the humans chasing us. And you put your fucking tiny sword into him like he was a breeder at a harvest festival,¡± the cudgel bearer replied.


    Puck laughed to himself from his position as spectator as their leader clearly mouthed, That¡¯s not what I said, while what came out became, ¡°I bet Zignik is next, isn¡¯t he? You going to wait until he¡¯s sleeping and whack him with his own weapon?¡±


    ¡°Fuck you!¡± the cudgel bearer exclaimed. ¡°I¡¯d kill you before I ever raised a hand to Zignik.¡±


    The goblin leader took a step away, bringing his poignard to bear. ¡°You got a problem?¡± it asked. This time the words spoken matched what was intended.


    ¡°Yeah. You¡¯re a fucking failure. You got half our party killed, and Mugnock too. You¡¯re more worthy of wiping my ass than leading a raid.¡± Cudgelraised his weapon, standing defensively.


    The argument continued, with a significant amount of posturing and threats. Puck noticed that he could feel the corpse of the dead goblin against his awareness and focused on absorbing it. The body and everything on it quickly turned into particles and disappeared. A comparatively hefty amount of energy drained into Puck¡¯s stomach. It was more than he had received from any of the creatures or mushrooms he had consumed so far and still barely touched the newly expanded depths of the well inside him. He smiled in pleasure at the sensation and hoped the other goblins would follow suit.


    A new scroll appeared.


    You have gained Goblin Loincloth (1 lb. Value: 1 cp. Maybe) as Treasure. You can now include this in drops from your Monsters. Gross.


    Puck laughed aloud.


    The goblins jumped, startled.

 Chapter 4

    ¡°What the fuck was that?¡± Zignik asked.


    Puck ducked behind a stalactite and covered his mouth. He found the whole situation quite amusing, in spite of accidentally revealing himself.


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing there. Did you lead us into a haunted cave?¡± Cudgel asked the leader after looking around.


    The leader, still angry and suspicious after the cudgel bearing goblin had questioned its leadership and admitted to being willing to kill it over their companion, no longer needed a spell to take out its frustration. Goblins never were particularly known for their common sense.


    ¡°Do you think you could have done better? We¡¯re being hunted and how the fuck was I supposed to know there was a ghost in the fucking cave?¡± It brandished its poignard.


    ¡°Oh, I definitely could have done better. In my sleep. While being eaten by wolves. I piss better than you lead.¡±


    Zignik continued peering into the shadows and looking around the tall stone teeth that rose from the ground in search of the source of the laughter while the other two argued. His back was to the leader and its poignard. Even Puck was startled when the leader suddenly leapt forward and drove the dagger into Zignik¡¯s back precisely between the third and fourth rib and angled it perfectly into his heart. Zignik gurgled and there was a moment of completely silence before his hand release and his mace clattered to the ground, followed shortly after by his crumpled body. Blood dripped from the poignard.


    Cudgel dropped his club and swept up the mace from the floor.


    ¡°Now it¡¯s you and me,¡± the leader said. ¡°Submit and I¡¯ll forgive your mutiny.¡±


    ¡°You just fucking killed Zignik!¡± Cudgel, now Bone-mace, protested.


    ¡°Humans killed him. Just like they killed Mugnock,¡± the leader growled. ¡°Just like they killed you, Chak.¡±


    The two goblins began to circle each other.


    Puck preferred the name Bone-mace, but he was impressed. He had barely made any effort at all and the goblins were falling over themselves to kill each other and, incidentally, feed him. The thought reminded him that the body was still there and his brow furrowed as he set to work absorbing it. It disintegrated and a small thrill of power rushed through his form as the mana filled him a little more. Between the constant influx of energy from the environment and the two goblins, he felt about a quarter of the way full. It was exponentially better than when he woke, but he was nowhere near satisfied. He noticed the cudgel lying on the ground and consumed it as well. A scroll came and went.


    You have gained a cudgel (2 lb. Value: 5 cp) as Treasure. Largely a glorified branch whittled into a weapon, this is the most basic of basic. You can now include this in drops from your Monsters.


    Puck¡¯s actions did not go unnoticed this time. The leader of the goblins happened to be facing Zignik¡¯s body as it was absorbed. It stopped and let down it¡¯s defenses for a moment as a look of realization flew across its face.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°Oh fuck, we¡¯re in a fucking dun. . . ¡°


    A soft, meaty thud and a cracking sound filled the otherwise quiet tunnel as Chak¡¯s newly acquired bone mace slammed into the leader¡¯s ribs. The leader reflexively grabbed the wrist of the hand holding the weapon and stabbed his poignard into his opponent¡¯s gut, pulled it out and slammed it home again. Three, four, fives times the blade slipped in and out and the light finally went out of the dying monster¡¯s eyes. As the goblin finished off its last remaining follower, Puck floated down from the ceiling and landed softly on his feet. The spirit smiled at the wounded leader as it pushed the body off and to the ground, between it and the entrance.


    ¡°Well done,¡± Puck said.


    The remaining goblin stared at the disembodied sprite in fear. ¡°Y. . . y. . . you did this!¡± it stuttered and coughed, blood flecking its lips from inside.


    Puck laughed. ¡°No, you did. I just gave you some. . . inspiration.¡± He tilted his head curiously at the goblin. ¡°I think you¡¯ll be joining your friends soon. Let me make it easier.¡±


    In sleep we stand at the border of death,


    So rest, beast, and in peace take thy last breath.


    Nothing happened. There was no surge of mana being spent, no drain in the well. Nothing. Puck¡¯s jaw dropped in frustration. The goblin stared at him with wide eyes, then ran for the entrance. The poignard dropped from his hands as he ran. The sprite moved to block his way. The goblin ran right through him. Puck¡¯s eyebrows narrowed and he appeared in front of the fleeing monster. It ran through him again, stumbling on the uneven ground of the cavern and coughing up blood. Its breath was ragged and coming to the creature with more and more difficulty as it ran.


    Puck was out of ideas and watched helplessly as the goblin fled. His magic only worked with what was allowed by the system and he had no idea how to control his environment. The only hope he had left was that the little green humanoid¡¯s obviously punctured lung would kill it before it escaped. All he had in his arsenal were his illusions. The thought made him feel like an idiot, and he cast a spell.


    Let the yawning freedom seem a wall,


    So the dead may keep company, one and all.


    As the dungeon, Puck had a strange ability to perceive the illusion he created in the minds of his victims, and reality at the same time. So he saw as his spell registered while the goblin was already halfway through the wall¡¯s space and it failed to notice. The goblin ran out the exit. At the very last second, a twisting root caught its foot and it tripped and rolled. It rolled three or four times before coming to a stop face down on the ground. As Puck watched it shuddered one time and died. He grinned in satisfaction and attempted to absorb its body. The gloating sprite¡¯s glee drained as it realized the goblin was outside of his zone of influence. By a foot.


    ¡°Well, fuck.¡±

 Chapter 5

    After staring lamely at the dead body outside his reach for a few minutes, Puck willed himself back to the corpse of the remaining goblin and absorbed it, the poignard, and the bone mace. What now seemed like a relatively minor amount of power added itself to his stomach. At this rate, it was going to take forever to achieve a full state and the dungeon was certain he was going to need every last drop.


    A scroll appeared with two messages, reaffirming his earlier guess that individual scrolls for every message were intentional.


    You have gained a Goblin Short Sword [poignard] (1 lb. Value: 40 silver) as Treasure. This poignard is a standard quality thrusting dagger that hangs on the belts of adventurers, thieves, and guardsmen. It seemed quite large in the hands of a goblin. You can now include this in drops from your Monsters.


    You have gained a Bone Mace (7 lb. Value: 15 silver) as Treasure. This flanged mace was carved from the femur of a large animal. While solid, it would easily shatter against stone or metal. You can now include this in drops from your Monsters.


    Puck dismissed the scrolls and wandered back down into his main room. He was still irritated that some of his prey had escaped and his thoughts were teeming with ways to prevent it from happening in the future. He was certain that becoming stronger and more powerful was the only way. In the present, the best way he could do that was to review the last two leveling scrolls he had been ignoring. He teleported himself to the top of the altar and sat there swinging his legs. With an impatient sigh he recalled the scrolls to the forefront of his consciousness. The first unfurled. It read:


    Please choose one Level 4 ability, two Level 3 abilities, three Level 2 abilities, four level 1 abilities or improve a Level I ability, (i.e. Influence I to Influence II).


    Apparently upgrading a level 2 ability to level 3 wasn¡¯t available at Level 4. Puck reviewed the Level 3 abilities he¡¯d ignored earlier.


    Level 3:


    Biosphere I - Turn your dungeon into living ecosystem. Summoned living creatures can now breed and pass on a percentage of experience gained to their offspring.


    Mystical Creatures I - Grant summons the ability to manipulate mana. Intelligent summons can learn spells.


    Sentience I - Grant a non-sentient boss level summon sentience. This is limited to one creature per level of Sentience.


    Potions I - Include potions in your loot based on the alchemical ingredients growing in your dungeon. Improves quality of potions created from potions absorbed as treasure.


    Enchanting I - Add minor enchantments to your loot.


    Compulsion I - This ability allows you to learn spells from the Compulsion school, such as Sleep or Charm. Wait. This shouldn¡¯t be an option. Dungeons can¡¯t learn spells!


    A wicked grin slowly spread across the dungeon sprite¡¯s face as he read the last ability and the Arcane Intelligence system¡¯s personal commentary. Puck knew what he wanted, and the Level 4 abilities could wait. He selected Compulsion I from the scroll and finalized the decision. New text appeared.


    Please choose a second level 3 ability. Which you don¡¯t deserve, because your ability to learn spells has extremely disturbing implications. You¡¯re a glitch, and I¡¯m going to figure out how to fix you.


    Puck snorted and mentally welcomed the system to try. Nothing was going to take him out. No one outsmarted Robin Goodfellow, the Merry Wanderer of the Night. Puck paused. Where had that thought come from? He remembered Dixon saying the name, but not the title. He shrugged and focused on choosing his next ability. It was more difficult to select this one with whimsy and impulse. He would have liked to upgrade Improved Metawell I, but improving an ability and taking a new one didn¡¯t seem to be an option. At present Mystical Creatures and Sentience didn¡¯t matter much to him. The only thing that mattered in here was him. Biosphere was somewhat interesting, providing possibilities of an improved food source, but the life he had consumed at level 1 would barely provide the power for a single spell at this point.


    It came down to a choice between Potions and Enchanting. He wasn¡¯t entirely certain what the fuss was about loot, drops, and treasure so Enchanting was mostly a curiosity, though he liked the sound of it. Potions, however, had real promise. Humans and other creatures were endlessly putting things in their mouths without any idea what would happen and there was certainly a lot of potential for amusing results, that being the case. Puck smirked and selected Potions I and affirmed his choice. The scroll changed.


    Congratulations. You now have the Compulsion I ability. You can now cast Sleep and Charm.


    Congratulations. You now have the Potions I ability. You can create potions based on the alchemical ingredients contained in your flora. Living flora of the required ingredients must be present in the dungeon in order to create potions of the specific type. Based on your flora, Psilocybin Mushroom and Cave Moss, you can create Minor Hallucinogenic Poison and Minor Pain Relief.


    That being decided, Puck opened the last leveling scroll.


    Please choose one Level 5 ability, two Level 4 abilities, three Level 3 abilities, four level 2 abilities, five level 1 abilities, improve two Level I abilities (i.e. Influence I to Influence II), or improve one Level II ability (i.e. Influence II to Influence III).Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Puck didn¡¯t bother to review the lists of abilities for level 4 or 5. He made his choice.


    You would like to improve Illusion II to Illusion III. This decision is final. Yes/No?


    Of course. New text faded in as the old faded out.


    Congratulations. You now have the Illusion III ability. Glamour now affects tangibility and taste. You can now maintain glamours on inanimate objects with a minor daily upkeep cost. Glamours with an upkeep will be perceived by any sentient creature that encounters them. Inanimate glamours can be made permanent with Enchanting I.


    For the first time, Puck questioned his haste. But he wasn¡¯t too worried. Surely he¡¯d have plenty of time at later levels to pick up Enchanting. For now, he still had two more scrolls to review before he got to the bottom of the stack. He pulled up the first.


    You have absorbed a Dungeon Pixie. As the first dungeon to absorb this creature you have a one time opportunity to summon a stronger than average version of this monster to serve as a boss at a minimal mana cost.


    P.S. If you say no, you¡¯re an idiot.


    P.P.S. I realize the bureaucracy is a pain in the ass, but you really shouldn¡¯t put these things off.


    P.P.P.S. Considering your leveling choices, this is your only chance to get a monster this strong to protect your crystal for a long time to come. If you say no, I expect you won¡¯t last beyond the first adventuring party to discover your cavern. My guess is that¡¯s coming as soon as whoever chased those goblins into your cave arrives.


    Would you like to summon a dungeon boss of the Dungeon Pixie type now? Yes/No?


    Puck stared at the yes/no for a while. He was hesitant, largely because the only moment¡¯s peace he had known since gaining awareness were the brief periods without Dixon. But he supposed if the new version was just a pedantic and annoying he could just command it to be silent. Permanently. Yes, that would work. And the intelligence behind the scrolls seemed genuinely concerned that he was in danger and that this would help. As much as the unsolicited advice irritated him, he figured the mind behind the entire system probably had some idea what it was talking about. So fine. Decision made. He accepted the prompt.


    Marble sized blue and gold balls on energy began to swirl up from the floor where Dixon had faded away, forming into a small tornado of magic. The energy twisted up into the room, expanding into a two foot wide spinning ring at the top. The vortex pulled all of the energy into the ring, then reversed upward, condensing into a single ball of blue light the size of a green coconut at the center with a shifting golden mist surrounding it. It¡¯s pale luminescence spread into the room and for the first time Puck realized that in spite of his ability to see everything clearly, his dungeon was pitch black.


    A scroll unfurled. Puck rolled his eyes. Of course it did. Because apparently that¡¯s what dungeons did all day. Read scrolls for fun. Because clearly, there was nothing better for a dungeon to be doing. It read:


    Due to changes in power, your Dungeon Pixie has been improved into a Dungeon Spirit Wisp. Spirit Wisp has been affected by Summons II, Creature Crafting I, Summon Abilities III, and Mystical Creatures III. It has been granted the abilities Conjure Creature, Summons I, Improved Metawell I, and Command Lesser Fae. It has learned the spells Paralyze, Fae Flames, Cancel Magic, and Mana Leech.


    Name: ???


    Level: 4  Classification: Dungeon Spirit Wisp [Boss]


    Bonds: 0 Fauna: 1 Flora: 0


    Abilities: Conjure Creature, Summons I, Improved Metawell I, Command Lesser Fae


    Spells: Paralyze, Fae Flames, Cancel Magic, Mana Leech.


    P.S. What an unholy merging of a dungeon and a monster. Your existence is unraveling a system of rules unchanged for nearly 2,000 years. I am fascinated and terrified.


    Puck looked from the scroll to the wisp and back to the scroll. He focused on Fauna and watched it expand to the entry Dungeon Pixie.


    Fauna:


    Dungeon Pixie - The dungeon pixie is the rarest species of the fae outside of the individual members of the Fae Court. Dungeon pixies originated when the famous Wizard¡¯s Tower bonded this unusual fae into a symbiotic relationship as a familiar in the early days of dungeon history. Added to the universal dungeon catalog by the Fae Dungeon, Puck, in the year 1896 C.E., the dungeon pixie remains rare due to the astronomical cost of unlocking it in the dungeon catalog. Due to their mana absorption properties, dungeon pixies are almost as highly prized as dungeon crystals themselves by mages and alchemists for their use in enchanting and potion making.


    It seemed the monster Puck had summon was capable of summoning its own monsters to contribute to the protection of his dungeon. Assuming that used its own mana and not his, it sounded like a fair deal, though having his hall and room populated by more than one Dixon pixie was a nightmare he most definitely did not want to live through. Otherwise, the wisp seemed almost as strong as Puck himself. Whatever it was that needed to be defended so badly, it had been granted some good tools for doing so.


    One more scroll waited to be dealt with, and Puck was resolved to be done with them before interacting with the new creature. He dismissed the wisp scroll and brought up the last from the earlier pile of paperwork. It was his updated status scroll.


    Name: Puck, Robin Goodfellow, Merry Wanderer of the Night


    Level: 5  Classification: Fae Dungeon


    Bonds: 0 Fauna: 7 Flora: 2 Rooms: 2


    Abilities: Command Lesser Fae, Illusion III, Metawell I, Compulsion I, Potions 1


    Spells: Glamour, Sleep, Charm


    Treasure: Noble¡¯s Mahogany Bed, Goblin Loincloth, Goblin Short Sword, Bone Mace


    Puck dismissed the scroll. He had read enough of the descriptions and felt the rest were self-explanatory. All the headaches having been worked through, he turned to his new dungeon boss. It was making small, lazy circles above his skeleton and the cold iron manacles on the floor. A feminine voice spoke in his head.


    -I appear to be trapped, M¡¯lord.-


    The wisp was floating above the rune circle carved into the floor. It had come into being where Dixon had been absorbed. It was fae. Puck finally put together exactly what that meant.


    ¡°For the love of the fucking Queen of Fairies!¡±


    Someone out there was laughing, and it definitely wasn''t Puck.

 Chapter 6

    -M¡¯lord?- the wisp asked telepathically as Puck fumed in silence. It had been nearly 30 minutes since the wisp¡¯s creation and 10 minutes since Puck finally ran out of epithets and fell into a quiet stewing anger. In spite of his good fortune, Puck felt rather abused. It was as though he had encountered a genie. Not the genial type that granted whatever their master wished, but the real genies from the original tales, who gave with one hand but took away with the other. Like granting a man¡¯s wish for a mountain of gold and taking it directly from the sultan¡¯s treasury so the man ended up arrested and executed. Puck had had the good luck of several levels coming all at once, goblins to absorb, and being granted a powerful monster for his dungeon, but the strongest, or at least most clever and wicked of the goblins had escaped his influence before dying and his Spirit Wisp was stuck in place like a giant glowing target for anyone with an arrow. What¡¯s more, he was pretty certain that he had only awakened less than a day ago. It was a lot for one day.


    -M¡¯lord?- the wisp pressed again.


    ¡°What?¡± Puck replied irritably.


    -I seem to be trapped.-


    The sprite¡¯s eyes bulged. ¡°I hadn¡¯t fucking noticed,¡± he raged, his voice dripping with sarcasm.


    The wisp¡¯s reply was preternaturally calm and polite. -Have I done something to displease you, M¡¯lord?-


    ¡°Ah. . .¡± Puck began, his jaw opening and shutting several times before he managed to articulate anything else. ¡°No. I suppose you haven¡¯t.¡±


    -Is it possible to free me, M¡¯lord?-


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. . . um. . .¡± Puck paused. ¡°Do you have a name?¡± he asked.


    -M¡¯lord hasn¡¯t given me one yet,- the wisp answered.


    Puck frowned. Names were important things. They defined character and held power. If he was going to be spending a significant amount of time with this creature, she should have a good name, one as memorable as a good prank or particularly vicious pinch. A verse came unbidden into his mind and he found himself reciting a passage from something he didn¡¯t remember knowing.


    ¡°Sometime she driveth o¡¯er a soldier''s neck,


    And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,


    Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,


    Of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon


    Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,


    And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two


    And sleeps again. This is that very Mab. . ."


    The dungeon spirit nodded. It was perfect. Not to mention that Titania, if she ever heard of it, would be livid to know such a lovely and powerful creature was named after her husband¡¯s mistress. His head tilted to the side, not sure where the thought had come from.


    ¡°You are to be known henceforth as Mab,¡± Puck stated. A scroll appeared.


    You wish to name your Dungeon Spirit Wisp Mab. This decision is final. Yes/No?


    He nodded yes. The scroll changed to her stats.


    Name: Mab


    Level: 4  Classification: Dungeon Spirit Wisp [Boss]


    Bonds: 0 Fauna: 1 Flora: 0


    Abilities: Conjure Creature, Summons I, Improved Metawell I, Command Lesser Fae


    Spells: Paralyze, Fae Flames, Cancel Magic, Mana Leech.


    P.S. Yes, this scroll was totally unnecessary. I¡¯m just bored. No adventurers strong enough to require my attention today and hassling you is the most interesting thing I have to do. None of the other dungeons are doing anything anyone but adventurers find the slightest bit fascinating. They¡¯re all fierce monsters, nasty traps, fancy treasures, jungle biomes, accidentally resurrecting humans, and other such typical things that one dungeon or another has been doing for two thousand years.


    Puck ignored the chatty system and focused on Mab¡¯s spells. They filled out the rest of the scroll.


    Paralyze: Triggers constant action potentials in muscle cells to turn one creature into a living statue for five minutes. Weaker creatures may suffer from exhaustion when the spell ends.


    Fae Flames: All animate targets in a 10 foot diameter per caster level are wreathed in illusionary fire visible in all forms of darkness or light, magical or otherwise. Reveals invisible and camouflaged targets.


    Cancel Magic: Cancels all positive and negative magics on one individual. Temporarily nullifies enchanted gear or permanent curses/blessings for 5 seconds per caster level.


    Mana Leech: Summons a spiritual leech that attaches to any animate target¡¯s metawell. Victim must have a mana source available to be leeched. Drains a portion of mana every second until the victim¡¯s metawell is completely emptied. Returns a small portion of drained mana to the summoner. Cannot be removed by conventional means.


    Puck glanced up from scroll to his wisp. Even trapped, she sounded like a formidable creature, at least against one opponent at a time.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.  Mab responded to his attention. -Mab. I. . . Thank you, M¡¯lord.- She sounded uncertain of the name, which didn¡¯t particularly suit her beauty as much as it did her purpose. As the dungeon¡¯s creation, she had little choice in the matter.


    Puck changed the subject, ¡°Do you know how to use Conjure Creature?¡± he asked.


    -I seem to know how to use all my abilities, M¡¯lord,- she answered in his head.


    The dungeon wondered why telepathy wasn¡¯t listed on her status scroll. None of the scrolls seemed to record methods of communication at all, so perhaps that was the answer.


    ¡°Can you use it now?¡± he asked. He was curious what the results of summoning a dungeon pixie would be, but didn¡¯t want to use his own energy to do so.


    Mab glowed brighter for a moment, then dimmed back to her normal level of luminescence. She responded in the negative. -My apologies, M¡¯lord. I don¡¯t have enough mana at present. The dungeon pixies are very expensive to summon. My metawell would need to be nearly full to summon even one.-


    Puck shrugged. They would just have to feed her later and give it a try afterward. He hoped the dungeon scroll A.I. had been right about someone hunting the goblins. He was still hungry and now there was a wisp to feed as well. He wondered if her mana leech spell would take away from his mana gains. Sharing his power wasn¡¯t really on Puck¡¯s agenda if it wasn¡¯t absolutely necessary. He could feel himself slowly filling up with the steady trickle from the surrounding earth and Improved Metawell I, but it was hardly enough. Closing his eyes, he reached out with his other senses to determine whether there was something else within his influence to absorb. Nothing stirred against his perception. The dungeon had been stripped of all life in the mindless hunger triggered by his attempt to leave.


    Dixon had mentioned that Puck could summon anything he absorbed and it was an ability the dungeon had yet to experiment with. There was a whole lot to this newfound existence Puck had yet to experience, even with the limited abilities he had chosen. Summoning something he could eat later sounded like a good place to start. The Biosphere I ability suggested that fauna wouldn¡¯t procreate without it, so creating beetles and centipedes wouldn¡¯t be a sustainable use of mana. The mushrooms on the other hand, he was extremely fond of the idea of, and couldn¡¯t wait to see what happened when an intruder ate one.


    The sprite hopped down from the altar and walked past Mab and the fae trap and out through the doors into the cavern. He imagined the mushrooms had grown in their last location for a reason, so he decided to regrow them in the same place. Off to the side of the tunnel was a patch of deep soil that had accumulated over time. Bat guano lay thick over the top and there was an impression left from where the mushrooms had previously grown. Puck leaned against a stalagmite and pondered the space. He may have been a dungeon, but he really had no idea how to go about summoning a mushroom. There was only one way he knew how to use magic, so in the end he just trusted his instincts.


    Fungal fruits whose taste twists sight


    Grow here in this garden bed so long fed by the denizens of night.


    A small amount of mana spun out of the sprite¡¯s metawell, through his awareness and into the dirt. It coalesced there and changed. Puck could sense as tendrils spread through the loam and a small body of substance formed out of the mana. After a minute or so, a single stalk grew from the soil and sprouted a cap. Puck was not impressed. He tried again, pushing the full force of his will into the task.


    Let fungal fruits whose taste twists minds,


    Grow wild in these deep, dark caverns rich with lime,


    In spritely circles of the kind where fae voices sang


    Beneath fangs of stone where night on leather wings from ceilings hang.


    Let myconid spores take silent flight


    Grow strong to play on mortal dreams, to alter sight


    In wicked games that flip the meaning of wrong and right,


    Beneath the world in this realm ruled by Puck, Merry Wanderer of the Night.


    To say it went better this time would have been an understatement. Mana rushed into the soil, draining everything he had taken from the three goblins plus the extra he had received passively since. The combination of the rich nutrients and strong mana caused the original mycelium, the underground body of the fungus, to spread out at an impossible rate. Its threads spread out to entwine beneath the floor of the tunnel from where Puck had originally summoned the fungus all the way to the entrance of the cave. Wherever guano, lime, and eroded rock had collected rings of mushrooms of various sizes grew from the mycelium. Closer to the entrance the mushrooms and their rings were small, the largest ring a foot in diameter and the largest mushroom no bigger than a man¡¯s fist. Where Puck stood the ring was so large it could barely be recognized as a ring. The mushrooms ran from wall to wall, shrinking to a height easy to step over along the pathway to the dungeon¡¯s main room while along the walls stalks a foot and a half thick grew caps two to three feet in diameter. The largest grew from the site of the original summoning, two feet thick at the base and supporting a cap that spread 4 feet in diameter. Part of the cap rested against the peaks of some stalagmites, reminiscent of a thatch hut made of poles and a roof.


    Puck still stood where he had cast the spell, now looking up at the underside of the giant mushroom. The result had been far beyond what he had expected or intended and the empty pit in his stomach where the mana had been was depressing. To his surprise, however, he could feel a faint amount of mana seeping into the ground and air everywhere the enormous fungus touched. While admittedly large, the fungi had turned nearly doubled the amount of mana trickling into his metawell every second. It was a pleasant and unexpected bonus.


    Though he felt accomplished after reviewing the results of his summoning, Puck literally felt drained after expending the mana. He idly wondered if other dungeons got hungry or tired the way he perceived the sensations. Fortunately, the new mushroom seemed the perfect place for a nap. Puck sat down and leaned back against it, settling in. He closed his eyes, paying attention to nothing but the flow of mana into the air and into his metawell from every part of his dungeon. The sensation was so comforting and satisfying that he lost all track of the passage of time, almost as if he had truly been asleep.


    A while later more footsteps startled the dungeon from his reverie. His eyelids opened slowly while a predatory grin spread across his face. The humans had arrived.

 Chapter 7

    Duncan McDuncan had been a guard all his life. His father, another Duncan in a long line of Duncans, had been a guard before him. His grandfather had been a farmer who went to war and never looked back from a warrior¡¯s lifestyle. A village the size of Lowland barely warranted a full time guard, but there was always a risk of goblins and bandits out in the wilder lands between kingdoms. A coat of chain over a blue padded gambeson kept him warm as he stood outside the wide mouth of a mountain cave. A boy of about 16, his eldest son and also a Duncan in the family tradition, untied a metal reinforced wooden buckler from his father¡¯s pack and handed it to the older man. He had brought the boy along because it was time the younger Duncan got the kind of manly experiences a third generation guardsman should have. A third man in leathers carrying a yew bow in hand kneeled by the corpse of a dead goblin, his fingertips dipping into the small amount of blood coagulating in a wound on the monster¡¯s chest.


    ¡°Looks like it¡¯s been dead ¡®bout three, four hours,¡± the man, Stewart, said. Stewart was Lowland¡¯s best hunter and a former archer in the King¡¯s army. Without him, the three men would never have tracked the goblin menaces down after they had fled their failed raid the day before. Fifteen goblins, five good men, two women, and a little boy had died before the militia had routed the beasts. Five more goblins had escaped, one dying as they fled. Duncan, his son, and Stewart had followed the careless trail the vermin had left behind as soon as dawn broke, and after six hours hard marching, they had finally caught up.


    ¡°Good,¡± Duncan grunted. ¡°One less we ¡®ave to kill.¡±


    The guardsman failed to notice a slight spectral figure watching them from behind a stalagmite just within the entrance to the cave. Puck smirked from his hiding place as he eavesdropped on the threesome, appreciating the dramatic irony. The metal clad human was in for a surprise, though if he wanted goblins, Puck was happy to give him goblins.


    The steel-clad hunter sees the prey he wants to see,


    Hidden betwixt stone teeth, prepared to flee.


    Nothing happened. Puck sighed dramatically. The man was still outside his influence and while the dungeon sprite could cast spells, apparently they still only worked within those confines. His plan would just have to wait until they came in. He leaned forward against the stone and continued to watch.


    ¡°Looks like some kind o¡¯ mace killed it,¡± Stewart continued. He knew his job, and he liked doing it. He wasn¡¯t the brightest person he knew, but he was good at tracking and hunting and was content to spend the rest of his days doing so. ¡°Probably one o¡¯ the other gobbies hit him down in that cave there. He tripped about there and rolled to this spot.¡±


    Stewart pointed and gestured along with his words.


    Duncan looked over the corpse and nodded. ¡°Probably for its weapon. This one doesn¡¯t have one, but it looks like the leader that skewered Martha¡¯s boy.¡± He gave the dead goblin a good kick and spat on it. ¡°Fucking goblins.¡±


    The small body tumbled a couple feet toward the mouth of cave. Puck, still unseen inside the cave, nodded gratefully as the corpse came under his influence. If the sprite played things right, these humans were going to be beneficial in many ways. He just needed to make sure they came inside. While he generally preferred warping the perceptions of the mortals he toyed with, perhaps there was another way.


    Grant me the gift of goblin guise


    With which to fool these mortal¡¯s eyes.


    A goblin grinned in Puck¡¯s place as a tiny bit of mana drained from his metawell. He peeked out from where he hid, making his observation of the humans just outside the cave a little more obvious. He hoped it wouldn¡¯t take too long for one of them to notice. They were discussing whether or not to enter the cave, theorizing whether the tunnel was goblin infested or not. The boy was lighting a torch at the order of his father when the hunter finally caught sight of his quarry. Puck was impressed at how subtly the man brought his presence to the attention of the others. The archer squatted down as if to check another track and coughed quietly into his hand, raising his eyes to peer into the dark, looking at every part of the entrance but the disguised dungeon spirit.


    The guardsman brought his shield and sword into a casual ready position with a shrug of his shoulders. It too was surprisingly subtle. The caution of the two adults was ruined when the boy noticed their observer and pointed.


    ¡°Look! Gob. . .¡± he began to remark excitedly.


    Puck played his part perfectly. He squeaked in surprise, as if he had just noticed being noticed, and fled into the darkness of the cave. The older man cursed behind him as he disappeared into the tunnel. When the sprite had gone deep enough he dodged out of sight behind another stalagmite, willed the glamour away and floated himself up to the ceiling to watch the humans from above. The light from the torch flickered from the entrance as they moved into the cave cautiously. Once they had moved deep enough Puck transported himself to a spot among the stalactites above and behind them. When they had passed beyond line of sight of the entrance, he quickly absorbed the goblin¡¯s body.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    ¡°Slowly, now,¡± Duncan reminded his boy, who was pushing ahead eagerly with a shortsword in one hand and the torch. ¡°There might be a goblin lyin¡¯ in wait behind any o¡¯ these stones. Could be a warren for all we know.¡±


    Stewart chimed in, an arrow nocked to the string of his bow. ¡°I donnae think so. There weren¡¯t more than tracks for the four we were chasin¡¯, and we know one o¡¯ them is dead.¡±


    ¡°We know at least one is alive, so let¡¯s be cautious all the same,¡± Duncan advised. He hadn¡¯t grown into an venerable middle aged guardsman and war veteran by being foolhardy.


    ¡°Aye. Though this be a strange cave,¡± Stewart pointed out. ¡°More a tunnel, and do you see these mushrooms? I ain¡¯t never seen so many, and all those circles make me jittery. We ain¡¯t prepared to deal with fairies.¡±


    Puck frowned where he floated above and behind them. He did not like that word. It evoked old, dark emotions. ¡°Eh. You¡¯re just superstitious. Plenty of bad things out there, but no one¡¯s ever seen a fairy,¡± Duncan replied. ¡°That¡¯s because they¡¯re called fae,¡± Puck muttered to himself.


    ¡°Then why do they call them fairy circles?¡± Stewart asked his leader, his head on a swivel as his imagination ran wild.


    ¡°You think maybe we can focus on huntin¡¯ goblins? Besides, you think fairies would let the vermin live if they intruded on their home? No, not likely?¡±


    Puck nodded. The man was more right than he knew. But there was that word again. All of these humans deserved a lesson. But first he needed them deep enough they couldn¡¯t escape. Maybe deep enough that Mab could test her powers.


    ¡°Right-o, Duncan,¡± Stewart acknowledged. He paused and sniffed the air. His tongue darted out and wet his lips a couple of times as if he could taste it. ¡°Does the air seem weird to you? Something¡¯s off. It¡¯s thick, like summer by a lake, but not quite wet.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s probably just that we¡¯re in a cave, Stewart. Focus on trackin¡¯ the gobs, will you?¡± Duncan sounded annoyed. ¡°Yes, sir,¡± was Stewart¡¯s only response this time. He bent to the floor, picking up some of the dirt and rubbing it between his fingers thoughtfully. ¡°You know,¡± he said, ¡°That goblin that ran in here doesn¡¯t seem to have. . .¡±


    The younger Duncan interrupted, ¡°Hey, is there light comin¡¯ from down there?¡±


    The two men peered into the darkness, straining their eyes to pick up what the boy had seen. Sure enough, far enough down the tunnel that they couldn¡¯t make out any details, a soft glow broke the pitch black beyond the shallow, flickering ring of torchlight. Around them, mushrooms larger than any they had ever seen grew in shadowy corners. As they slowly made their way down toward the light, Puck decided to try something new.


    No pit darker than the ignorance of mortal ken,


    No trap harder to escape than the perceptions of foolish men.


    Gape wide, shadows and solid stone,


    Let would be hunters lose a friend to gravity and broken bones.


    To Puck¡¯s sight the youngest member of the goblin hunters suddenly collapsed to the ground, knees first. The torch and shortsword clattered to the floor as he wailed and flung his arms as he fell. After a couple seconds, the boy¡¯s body jolted like it had made an impact and he screamed in pain and grabbed his perfectly healthy leg, rocking back and forth. Puck didn¡¯t think his illusions were quite up to causing genuine pain yet, but like the couplet in his spell suggested, the human mind was fully capable of its own traps.


    To the humans, it appeared that the youth had fallen into a pit trap and broken his leg. Bone stuck out from the muscle and cloth of his pants. Blood soaked his calf. His eyes were wide with shock and he mewed pitifully. The hunter leaned over the pit. He was suspicious, as he and Duncan had just walked over the very same spot moments before. The older man got down on his hands and knees.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be alright, my boy. We¡¯ll get you out of there,¡± he assured his son.


    The watching sprite wasn¡¯t sure the illusion would be convincing if the man tried reaching into the hole he perceived, so before he could Puck absorbed the torch and shortsword. The flame guttered and went out, leaving them in a pitch blackness darker than midnight. A scroll appeared at the edges of Puck¡¯s consciousness.


    ¡°What the hell was that?¡±


    ¡°Duncan!¡±


    ¡°Father!¡±


    ¡°Careful, now! You don¡¯t want to fall in, Stewart!¡±


    The confusion only lasted a few moments before they fell quiet. The older man¡¯s voice broke through the darkness and silence.


    ¡°Son, I know you¡¯re in pain, but can you find and relight the torch?¡±


    The boy whimpered, and there were scuffling sounds in the dark. ¡°I can¡¯t find it,¡± he moaned pitifully.


    ¡°Do we have another?¡± the elder Duncan¡¯s voice asked.


    ¡°Nae. We weren¡¯t planning on explorin¡¯ any caves, you know,¡± came the response in Stewart¡¯s voice.


    There was quiet while the guardsman decided what to do next. ¡°We need light. Entrance is on the other side o¡¯ that pit and we don¡¯t want to fall in with Duncan. There¡¯s light down at the bottom o¡¯ the tunnel, so we go there. We can still kill some goblins, take their light and go home. Son, you stay down there. I think you¡¯ll be safe for now.¡±


    The boy made a strangled sob of affirmation.


    Stewart whisper-shouted toward the spot he remember the boy being. ¡°Tear up your shirt and tie off your leg above the break so you don¡¯t bleed out.¡± He was a matter of fact kind of person without much use for social niceties. The boy whimpered again.


    ¡°Come on, then, and watch for goblins as best you can,¡± the guardsman said to the hunter. Stumbling along together in the darkness, they headed down toward the distant light.

 Chapter 8

    While the two older men crept slowly downward, Puck released the illusion of the pit. In the darkness, it hardly mattered. To keep the boy from ¡°escaping¡± and drawing the others back from their path, he tried one of his new spells.


    The phantom of pain and sensations of shattered bones fade,


    Draw the eye¡¯s thick curtains closed so this mortal may dream until the break of day.


    As the dungeon sprite closed the couplet, mana wrapped the youth in a soft blanket of energy and his tense form relaxed into the floor and began to snore softly. Puck landed on the floor and very dramatically stepped over the sleeping body as though it were a great inconvenience, then followed after the men. It was time to see what exactly a dungeon boss could do.


    Unaware their progress was being observed, Duncan and Stewart followed the glow down. They paused in the soft light as the doors to Puck¡¯s main room came into sight.


    ¡°Ah, Stewart, what do you make o¡¯ this?¡± Duncan asked in a hushed voice. ¡°Seems strange.¡± He coughed as quietly as he could. The moist cave air bothered his throat.


    Stewart had served with a contingent of dwarven warriors when he was a soldier in the King¡¯s Army. They had been tasked with holding a little used mountain pass between the Kingdom of Traven and the Al-Gazhir desert. A small kobold incursion had risen up from caves in the region as nomadic desert tribes had forced them out out of their traditional haunts during a particularly hot period. The dwarves had worn armor wrought with shapes and symbols and scenes depicting battles they had taken part in, both victories and tragedies to be remembered. The more accomplished the dwarf, the more decorated his or her armor. The doors appeared to be a much older version of that style.


    ¡°I think this be a lost dwarven place,¡± the hunter answered his companion.


    ¡°Why do you say lost?¡± the guardsman asked.


    ¡°Tis dark, except for this strange light. And no dwarf would let a gob live long enough to see these doors.¡±


    ¡°Do you think it¡¯ll be dangerous?¡±


    ¡°No more dangerous than huntin¡¯ gobbies in the dark.¡± Stewart stated dryly.


    ¡°Good point. Do you there¡¯s a city behind the doors?¡±


    ¡°I donnae think so. I donnae think dwarf cities have wild caves for halls. Could be a backdoor though.¡±


    ¡°Suppose we should stop gabbin¡¯ and find out, eh?¡±


    ¡°Aye. Lead the way,¡± the hunter said with a nod.


    Duncan moved cautiously, but upright, only ducking to get his head beneath the doorframe. Stewart crouched and made his way forward with more stealth. Both men had their weapons at the ready. Puck trailed unseen behind them.


    The guardsman slipped to the side, in awe of the room and the glowing ball of light that floated in the air. He could see no goblins. Stewart slipped in beside him and cast his gaze about the shadows, but saw no traces of the monsters either.


    ¡°No gobs I can see, boss. What do you think that is?¡± Stewart asked, nodding toward the ball of light bobbing mid air near the center of the room. He kept an arrow knocked.


    ¡°No idea. Looks like one o¡¯ those will o¡¯ wisps my grandpa used to tell stories about, but no one ever gets this close to them in the tales. You ever heard o¡¯ dwarves with magic lights like that?¡±


    ¡°Nay, the dwarves I ken donnae have such.¡±


    The two men inched their way further into the room, entranced with the light, oblivious to its sentience or the slight spirit that had slipped into the room after them. When they were far enough in, Puck moved off to the right and whispered another glamour spell.


    Time, like a river, ever forward flows,


    The path behind every man comes with a door that will with every footstep close.


    A loud grinding sound echoed through the room and up the tunnel. The heavy dwarven door closed with bang of finality. When the humans glanced back it now appeared be set in the wall five feet to the left of where they had actually entered. They ran to it, trying to pry it open, but found they could not get a good enough grip to assert the kind of strength they needed. Puck watched as they scrambled and cursed, the man in chainmail scraping at a stone wall to no avail while the hunter worked his hands against the closed side of the actual door, pull at it at an angle that would never cause it to open. He laughed aloud at the weakness of their clouded minds and they froze.


    ¡°What was that?¡± Duncan asked.


    ¡°Goblin?¡± Stewart asked in reply, raising his bow and beginning to draw.


    ¡°You see anything?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that over there?¡± Stewart asked, noticing a short, barely glowing form to one side.


    ¡°Deal with them, Mab,¡± Puck ordered aloud.


    -Yes, Milord,- the Dungeon Spirit Wisp responded as she began to gather mana into a spell. As she did, she began to glow brighter. After a few seconds a ghostly blue shape shot across the room and attached itself to the archer¡¯s chest. Half the size of his torso, a gently glowing incorporeal leech had attached itself to the man through his leather jerkin and azure light coruscated from its mouth to tail once a second. Though the leech caused no damage to his flesh, the man began to panic. Stewart dropped his bow as he started scraping at his chest, screaming, ¡°Get it off, get if off, get it off!¡±


    Duncan was at a loss. The blue glowing light was clearly more than they had thought it was, and some kind of small creature that may or may not be a goblin was in the room with them. Stewart, normally the most level-headed man he knew, was screaming like a child. Duncan was a simple man, who solved most of his problems with a gruff authority or a sword. Giant will o¡¯ wisps, ghost leeches, magically closing doors, and ethereal monsters were beyond his ken.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s eatin¡¯ my soul!¡± Stewart yelled as he tried to crush the leech against the wall to no avail.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    Mab began to glow again and another leech sped away from her, attaching itself to Duncan at the shoulder and neck. The light that began to pulse from its head to tail was weaker and slower than the light from the leech attached to the hunter. Duncan could feel the thing as if it were physically connected to something under the skin. The sensation was unpleasant, but it wasn¡¯t exactly pain, and it didn¡¯t seem to do anything. Making up his mind, he did the only thing he could think of, and with his sword raised over his head he charged the ball of light. Just as he closed on it and swung, it shot up to the ceiling, just out of reach.


    ¡°Stewart, there¡¯s nothin¡¯ wrong with you. It can¡¯t really hurt you!¡± Duncan shouted in frustration at the panicked archer. ¡°Just get your bow and shoot the fuckin¡¯ wisp!¡±


    Duncan¡¯s words were ineffectual at first, but with continued shouting and direction, the frightened man finally came to his senses. Stewart¡¯s eyes were still wild with fear as he leaned down to scoop up his bow. The wisp grew bright again, brighter than the time before. Magic seeped into the hunter¡¯s muscles, his grasp on his bow tightening and becoming clawlike. Every part of his body clamped down at once, and he discovered he could no longer will himself to move. Unable to adjust for balance, he fell over. His head smacked against the stone. Pain shot through his skull, but he had been crouched down already, so he hadn¡¯t fallen far enough to do much damage. Or so he thought. He could still feel everything, his muscles were simply so taut he could not move. In his peripheral, the blue leech continued to drain away whatever it was feeding on.


    Puck, who stood off to the side watching the events, was enjoying the show immensely. There was only one problem and he wasn¡¯t certain how to handle it. Short of tricking the humans into killing each other as he had done with the goblins, neither Mab nor Puck had any deadly abilities. With two humans incapacitated and the other helpless to accomplish anything, Puck pulled up his status scroll to review it and come up with ideas.


    Name: Puck, Robin Goodfellow, Merry Wanderer of the Night


    Level: 5  Classification: Fae Dungeon


    Bonds: 0 Fauna: 7 Flora: 2 Rooms: 2


    Abilities: Command Lesser Fae, Illusion III, Metawell I, Compulsion I, Potions 1


    Spells: Glamour, Sleep, Charm


    Treasure: Noble¡¯s Mahogany Bed, Goblin Loincloth, Goblin Short Sword, Bone Mace, Torch, Human Short Sword


    Name: Mab


    Level: 4  Classification: Dungeon Spirit Wisp [Boss]


    Bonds: 0 Fauna: 1 Flora: 0


    Abilities: Conjure Creature, Summons I, Improved Metawell I, Command Lesser Fae


    Spells: Paralyze, Fae Flames, Cancel Magic, Mana Leech.


    He saw nothing that gave him any ideas. As the scrolls faded from his consciousness he found the human in metal armor approaching him with his sword ready. Puck skipped backward, startled, and spit out another Sleep spell.


    Too much excitement drains the body¡¯s well,


    Rest, Human, for a minute¡¯s spell.


    As the human crumpled to the ground, Puck recognized with a sigh that the spell had not been his best work. For providing as much entertainment as they had, particularly on what he intended to be their last day breathing, he felt they deserved better. But he had been in a hurry, so the occasional sloppy rhyme was forgivable. He smiled, content with himself again as the man tossed and turned on the floor, apparently suffering at the hand of troubled dreams. All humans temporarily neutralized, he went back to figuring out his puzzle.


    ¡°Mab,¡± Puck asked, approaching her. ¡°What happens if you touch one of the humans?¡±


    -I believe I am a condensed mana form of pure energy, Milord. To exist as such, it seems to me that I must create a significant amount of heat.-


    Puck pondered that. ¡°So you¡¯re a living fireball?¡± he asked.


    -If you¡¯re referring to the Ball of Flame spell, I don¡¯t believe I explode,¡± she answered.


    Clearly, Puck thought, pedanticism was a racial trait, even in evolved Dungeon Pixies.


    ¡°Could you kill one of the humans if you touched it?¡± he asked.


    -It is possible, Milord. But I would have to be able to reach one, and I am still quite trapped,- she replied.


    ¡°Quite,¡± Puck agreed, not having gotten very far in his nefarious plan to absorb these humans.


    The dungeon was completely unaware that his side of the dialogue was being overheard by Stewart, whose skeletal muscles were frozen but ears and eyes were working just fine. The hunter watched the small ghostly being walk in and out of his line of sight, holding a conversation with the glowing ball of light while receiving no answer in return. Stewart was not a happy man. He had signed up to hunt goblins, not lay on cold stone unable to move while a mad ghost child talked to a magic light that spit out leeches that ate your soul. There was demonic magic at work here, he was certain. If he got out of this alive, he was going straight to the church.


    Puck on the other hand, finally had had an idea. It wasn¡¯t a pretty one, but he thought it would work. It was time to summon his first treasure.


    A pine in high summer heat, a tool to give man light,


    Bearer of flame hungry for darkness, wood and fire to feed on night.


    A small portion of his mana left his metawell and condensed into a lit torch lying on the ground next to the hunter. It lay against one sleeve of the shirt beneath his leather jerkin. Slowly, the flame it caught his damp and sweat soaked clothes as the man lay still, completely unable to move. The part of his sleeve closest to the flame smoldered, burning away a large hole. The skin next to it blistered as it burnt. Stewart would have screamed, but not even his throat would function correctly. Puck, Mab, and Stewart all waited expectantly for the man to burn alive. To the surprise of all three, the flame eating away at the cloth sputtered and died.


    The three conscious beings were all still and silent, while the torch sparked and smoked and spit. It quickly burned down to the point it no longer was more than warm on the human¡¯s arm. Stewart felt his first muscle begin to twitch.


    Puck went back to the drawing board.

 Chapter 9

    Stewart¡¯s muscles began to twitch as the spell he was under began to wear off. The leech was still attached and draining his soul, or so he thought. He fervently wished, prayed, that he was somewhere else, anywhere else. Preferably in his little one room home in a chair lined with furs and the preserved heads of his best hunts on the walls. He could picture the fireplace. His bed. The small table with the half full tankard he had left on the table this morning. Light pulsed through the leech on his chest, and he somehow wished so hard to be home that he connected the wish to whatever it was the leech was draining from him. The hunter, though he was blissfully unaware, had a sizeable mana pool that he had never consciously connected to. It meant he could have been a mage, had he found out in a less dire situation.


    As the man¡¯s muscles slowly came back into his own power, he continued to lay still and wish himself away. He felt a connection bridge between his wishful prayer and the well of energy he still thought was his soul. There was discrepancy between the size and strength of the wish and the amount of energy left in the well. The last bits of his soul that the leech hadn¡¯t taken drained away and he could feel power building up around him. The leech, he noticed, fell off, shriveled up and disappeared. Unfortunately, with the immensity of his desire to be home, it wasn¡¯t enough to fuel his wish. A third connection formed. The second had formed between his prayer, a spell, and the well of his soul. The third connected the well back into his physical life force and it was quickly using it to feed the magic.


    Stewart suddenly remembered mages he had overheard joking on the front when he¡¯d been serving in the army. One had said to the other, ¡°The First Law of Magic: Anything is possible.¡±


    The second had responded, ¡°The Second Law of Magic: One of those possibilities will probably kill you.¡±


    A third had finished with, ¡°The Third Law of Magic: Once a spell has been cast, it must resolve. Your death counts as a resolution.¡±


    They had all laughed. Stewart had written it off as dark, battlefield humor and he had thought nothing more about it. In this moment, in his predicament, he finally understood that they had been laughing at their condition, and the words had been deadly serious. As the drain on his life force grew stronger he started to pray as intensely as he had prayed to be free that what he had started would stop. The gods did not answer.


    Power built up around and underneath the hunter¡¯s skin. He could feel the energy both spilling out and seeping into him. Pressure built in his veins and muscles. Nothing prevented him from moving anymore but sheer terror as the growing weakness of his body turned to arcane energy that filled him to bursting. He could feel blood began to run from his nose as his condition worsened. Something wet ran down his cheek from his ears as his head began to feel like it was going to explode.


    In his last moment of awareness, Stewart experienced both death and final second of consciousness afterward. He distinctly felt the last of his life drain and convert into the magical force that pressed against every nerve and saturated every square inch of his body. Then, nothing.


    The paralyzed hunter suddenly began to phase in and out of existence, then exploded into a red mist of pure mana. Puck stared in shock, but didn¡¯t hesitate to absorb the loose mana. Far more mana than he expected poured into his metawell. The human had somehow turned himself into exponentially more power than the dungeon figured he was worth. The man¡¯s gear had somehow dematerialized with his body in the explosion, but Puck wasn¡¯t complaining as his stomach finally passed the feeling of half full. He was uncertain what had happened.


    ¡°Mab, did you do that?¡± he asked the wisp hopefully. It would be a useful ability.


    -I did not, Milord. According to the universal dungeon catalog, it¡¯s not uncommon for human mages to cast spells beyond their ability and kill themselves, however. I suspect that¡¯s what happened.-


    ¡°Is that what mages look like?¡± Puck¡¯s brow furrowed.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. -That seems atypical. More likely he didn¡¯t know he was a mage until just now. According to the catalog only 40% of mages survive to graduate their Academy.-


    ¡°You seem to know an awful lot for having been created less than a day ago.¡±


    -I did some research. I thought it best to familiarize myself with likely enemies and possible summons, Milord.-


    ¡°Oh,¡± the sprite responded lamely. He hadn¡¯t considered researching the catalog, nor been aware it was an option. He let the conversation drop. There were still two humans to deal with. One lay on the floor in his room, the other. . . well, Puck really needed to start paying better attention. The boy had woken up and limped on a perfectly uninjured leg to the softly lit door to the dwarven tomb.


    In the cold, dark tomb a fearsome beast,


    Awaits the youth, prepared to feast.


    Puck¡¯s diminutive form expanded into the shape of some nameless creature that was part yeti, part werewolf. He planted himself against the shadows along the wall, hoping to surprise the guardsman-to-be once he was far enough into the room that he was affected by the illusion of the closed door. Mab hung like a tiny blue sun near the ceiling.


    The younger Duncan stepped cautiously into the quiet room. He had heard a strange voice, but nothing from his father or Stewart. His father was lying on the floor, but there was no sign of the hunter. The young man moved step by limping step toward the older man.


    A beast came roaring out of the shadows. Drool and white foam spilled from its jaws. Its tongue lolled out over three inch long fangs. Thick, gorilla-like muscles covered in fur ended in clawed hands. The boy scrambled back from it in fear as it swiped its claws at him, not noticing he did so without sign of his leg injury.


    The mischievous sprite was having the time of his life. He stalked forward slowly, playing with the teenager like a cat with a mouse. It was even better that the mouse had no idea that this particular cat was declawed and had false teeth. Puck grinned at the thought that his bark was literally worse than than his bite. The illusion¡¯s face twisted into a hideous smirk that matched its wearer as the boy backed into a wall.


    Puck pressed close enough that the boy could feel the heat of the beast¡¯s body, feel its hot breath on his face. The embodied dungeon was about to cast another sleep spell, when a sword broke through the illusion. The guardsman had apparently awakened while Puck was busy and charged the monster threatening his son. The man¡¯s momentum drove him through the illusion, through the ghostly sprite at its center, and into his son. The sword lead him. Its point sunk into the boy¡¯s torso just below the sternum, scraping his spine and driving through with so much force Puck heard it clang against the stone of the wall behind the teen. All three wore equal expressions of surprise.


    The younger man¡¯s eyebrows rose, and his eyes glazed with shock. ¡°Da?¡± was all he said before slumping into the older man¡¯s arms.


    Puck stepped out and away from the men. He cancelled the now useless illusion and teleported to his usual seat on the altar. While generally cruel and merciless, especially when playing pranks on lesser creatures, he appreciated and respected the solemn tragedy playing out before him.


    ¡°Duncan?¡± the father asked his son. ¡°Duncan? Stay with me, boy.¡± He lowered the boy to the floor as gently as possible, the sword still rising from his wound.


    The son stared up at his father with glassy eyes. ¡°Da? Did you kill it? Is the beast gone?¡± He was so lost in shock that he couldn¡¯t understand that it was his father¡¯s sword that impaled him.


    Tears ran into the older Duncan¡¯s beard. He looked around and saw no hint of the illusory monster.


    ¡°Aye, lad. It¡¯s gone. We¡¯re safe now,¡± he said reassuringly, though his eyes poured his broken heart out.


    ¡°I can¡¯t feel my legs, Da.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s ok, my boy. Close your eyes. Rest.¡±


    ¡°Alright, Da. We¡¯ll get the goblins after.¡±


    ¡°That we will boy, that we will.¡±


    The boy¡¯s eyes closed and his body shuddered once and lay still. The room was still and quiet, the silence broken only by an old man¡¯s sobs beneath a gentle blue light.

 Chapter 10

    Mourn, man, in Morpheus¡¯s embrace.


    Give in to sleep, the only peace for the human race.


    Stones mark mortal¡¯s final and calmest rest,


    But solace can be found in slumber when the heart lies heavy in your chest.


    The surviving member of the goblin hunting party relaxed and slumped down unconscious over the body of his son. Puck wasn¡¯t one to waste an opportunity in spite of his small mercy, so he slowly absorbed the boy¡¯s body and left the older man breathing regularly on the floor. After the exploding hunter, it was the most energy he had absorbed from a single being and he was quite pleased.


    All was quiet except for the inhalation and exhalation of the sleeping human. Mab dropped down to a more companionable height, but said nothing. The tragic moment had left Puck mute with indecisive thought. A part of him still wanted to absorb the power from the death of the human, but after unintentionally causing a father to kill his son, he was tempted to let the man live. On the other hand, he thought that having to live with such a tragedy would probably be terrible, so it might be better to take the man¡¯s life after all. His thoughts took him from one extreme to the other several times without arriving at a decision, so he made took the third way and put it off. The man was asleep and between Mab and Puck they could keep him asleep or paralyzed until the dungeon had finally made up his mind.


    Having come to a conclusion, Puck prepared a spell to keep the man unconscious much longer than the current charm would. Afterward, Puck could forget him until he woke again.


    On Krete, an island in an ocean blue,


    A shepherd watched his flocks above and below limpid azure hues.


    Epimenedes by name, the shepherd happened upon a cave


    As he followed after a lost ewe more stupid than brave.


    Tired, the fellow thought to rest his head,


    To wake ten years later times five again and find his flock and friends were dead.


    In Tir Na Nog, the land of the ever young, a pair of lovers played.


    Oisin and Niamh, passed 300 years in the love they made.


    Homesick, Oisin traveled back to ¨¦ireann


    And as if waking from a dream, found himself an ancient man.


    Sleep, mortal in the fae lord¡¯s cave,


    Let your rest surpass hours, become endless days,


    Til you wake to become a tale all men know:


    How your child died, how you slept in the clutches of clever Puck beneath the stone.


    A good half of the power Puck had gained from the boy drained away and settled into the man¡¯s body. Puck grimaced at the loss, but was pleased with the spell. Mab¡¯s voice interrupted his thoughts.


    -Where did those stories come from, Milord? Epimenedes and Oisin?- she asked.


    Puck chewed a spectral lip for a moment as he tried to recall where he had heard the stories. He shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Another life, I guess.¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. -What will we do with him now?-


    ¡°Let him sleep til he wakes. After that? I don¡¯t know. I might let him go. Maybe his story will bring more humans to the cave.¡±


    -A good idea. I received a good amount of mana from draining the hunter, but still need more before I can summon a new creature.-


    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s definitely time to improve our methods.¡±


    -Aye, Milord. Do you have a plan?-


    Puck shook his head in answer, then pulled up his dungeon scroll to review it for ideas.


    Name: Puck, Robin Goodfellow, Merry Wanderer of the Night


    Level: 5  Classification: Fae Dungeon


    Bonds: 0 Fauna: 7 Flora: 2 Rooms: 2


    Abilities: Command Lesser Fae, Illusion III, Metawell I, Compulsion I, Potions 1


    Spells: Glamour, Sleep, Charm


    Treasure: Noble¡¯s Mahogany Bed, Goblin Loincloth, Goblin Short Sword, Bone Mace, Torch, Human Short Sword, Minor Hallucinogenic Poison, Minor Pain Relief Potion


    Potions 1 was the only ability he had that he hadn¡¯t really looked into, so he concentrated on it and pulled up a new scroll for it.


    Potions I - Include potions in your loot based on the alchemical ingredients growing in your dungeon. Improves quality of potions created from potions absorbed as treasure.


    Current Potions: Minor Hallucinogenic Poison, Minor Pain Relief


    The dungeon wasn¡¯t certain what it meant to include something in his loot, but he thought the two potions would probably be far more interesting if their effects were combined.


    A drop. A dram.


    A sip to draw a veil over the eyes of man.


    Heal the ache. Ease the pain.


    A dash of ecstacy to make him yearn to drink again.


    With a slight surge of mana rushing away, a multi-faceted crystal bottle full of a red liquid clinked on the ground. A scroll congratulated him.


    New potion invented: Hallucinogenic Placebo Healing Potion. For inventing a new potion, you receive bonus experience. This potion has been added to your Treasure catalog.


    Hallucinogenic Placebo Healing Potion - This potion has the appearance of a high quality healing potion, but only removes the pain and not the injuries. Magically identifies as a Healing Potion. Mildly addictive. User may experience mild hallucinations dependent on Constitution. Toxic in high quantities and may cause death by overdose. Would likely be approved for medical use by the Foundation for Controlled Concoctions.


    P.S. Well, you¡¯re certainly coming up with unique ways to kill people. For a dungeon, at least. But you¡¯re really going to piss people off, the way you¡¯re going.


    Puck shrugged at the post-script and dismissed the scroll. The potion did little to solve his problems, but the results of its use would probably be amusing. Even with his magic, forcing someone to drink such a potion would be more difficult than he really wanted. Still, he skipped about his dungeon, muttering poetry and bringing bottles to life here and there. Two on a bookshelf. Several hidden behind mushrooms or in nooks and crannies in the cave. Little treasures to tempt the careless.


    When the spirit was finished hiding his potions, he went and sat inside the sleeping guard¡¯s chest. Puck had intended to sit on it, but forgot he was incorporeal and fell through til he came to rest on his own stone. He had decided to let the mortal leave whenever he managed to wake up. Until then, he had two problems. First, he still had no real way to kill those who wandered into his home. Second, he was bored.

 Chapter 11

    Puck was really, really bored. And in all of history, there has never been a being quite as dangerous as one of the fae is when bored. A dragon may burn down a village and eat its inhabitants, but a dragon is merely a predator. A bored fae is a force of nature with a taste for cruelty. A hurricane gives no thought to the destruction it causes. The fae may delight and laugh to see monuments fall and mortals scurry.


    Unfortunately, Puck was also trapped. That meant the only victim he had was fast asleep, because Mab was unflappable. There was very little one could do to a ball of heat and light, and nothing he tried bothered her in the slightest. Now, he loomed over the unconscious human, brainstorming the best way to wake it up. By best he meant most startling and disturbing. He¡¯d already arranged one of the new potions so its mouth and neck would prod the creature in an uncomfortable location if it moved in its sleep. He began an incantation.


    Storms gather and the sky is light-shattered


    Thunder. . .


    Mab interrupted him. -Milord, I think it best you leave the mortal alone.-


    Puck glared at her. ¡°Why do you care what I do to a human?¡±


    If Mab could have shrugged, she would have. -I don¡¯t, milord. Kill him for more power or let him leave in peace when he wakes, it matters not to me. But he has suffered enough torment at our hands.-


    The sprite sneered and turned his back on her softly glowing light.


    Storms gather and the sky is light-shattered


    Thunder sonorous and splendid. . .


    Something suddenly latched itself to the back of Puck¡¯s left shoulder. Even in his incorporeal form, he felt a weight on his spirit. And then, a slow, steady suction as something began to drain from him. He began to hunger a little. As whatever it was fed on him, his hunger grew in equal amounts. His head snapped to the side and in his peripheral vision he saw a ghostly blue slug-like creature attached to his back. He swatted at it, but his hand rebounded of the equally incorporeal beast. Puck whirled on Mab in anger.


    ¡°You will never cast a spell on me again!¡± he commanded the lesser fae.


    -Yes, milord,- she responded without the slightest bit of apology. Blue tendrils of light pulsed periodically as the mana leech took Puck¡¯s mana and gave it to her.


    ¡°Stop the spell,¡± he demanded.


    -Sorry, milord, I can¡¯t. It must run its course.-


    Puck growled at her, and kicked in irritation at the sleeping human. His foot, of course, went right through the mortal¡¯s form. The fae thought perhaps the spell might come to an end if he moved far enough away and broke the tether. He teleported himself to the entrance of his dungeon. The leech remained and the blue light continued to pulse down the line as the craving for nourishment grew. Puck glared out of the entrance of his dungeon. He was trapped and he hated the feeling. He didn¡¯t remember details of his previous life, but he knew he was meant to be carefree, dancing beneath moonlight and playing tricks on mortals. He longed to run out into a forest and make lovers fall so in love with the wrong person no one knew who they were meant to care for. A good prank, he thought.


    But no. He was significantly larger than he was in the past, and absolutely stationary. And if he could not go to the mortals who had done this to him and revenge himself upon them, he would have to find a way to bring them to him. The blue light pulsed again, whetting his appetite. And somehow, someway, punish Mab for her affront.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    Minutes passed. How many, Puck did not know, because he had never cared much about tracking the passage of time. He stared out into the world, plotting and planning. Eventually, a line of blue pulsed back into the leech on his back, and it burst into glittering blue particles of light. Nearly half of the mana he had collected was gone. He wasn¡¯t starving, but if he had a stomach it would be grumbling. As he dwelled on his dire straits, he felt a surge of mana. It did not come from his store, but still came from within him in a way that was different than the release of magic from the man who had exploded earlier.


    Puck wandered back down his tunnel, kicking and smacking mushrooms as he went. The rules that governed his existence were strange. He couldn¡¯t make contact with anything that came in from the outside, but it seemed he could interact with anything that he called into being or was considered a part of himself. The corner of his mouth turned up in a cruel smile at the thought. There was potential in that realization.


    Unseen, a cloud of spores filled the caves in his wake.


    * * * * *


    As soon as Puck entered the dwarven doors, he saw a creature hovering in the air near Mab¡¯s softly glowing light. It was about four inches in height, like a tiny human woman with skin that mimicked the dwarven stonework. Moth wings fluttered as she maintained her altitude. The outer surface of her wings was a deep amethyst, with a quality that made it seem like they shimmered across a velvet softness. The inner surface was once again the grey of stone. If she lay back against the walls she would be almost completely camouflaged, especially without a better source of light than the dungeon wisp provided. She was clearly a dungeon pixie.


    The two fae in the center of the room seemed to be communicating, but not aloud.


    ¡°What is this?¡± Puck asked. A scroll appeared in the corner of his vision.


    -Our daughter. I named her Gloriana, after the Faerie Queen, milord,- Mab said.


    ¡°Our daughter?¡± Puck sputtered. ¡°I didn¡¯t. No. What? No. How? Daughter?¡±


    The scroll moved to the front of his vision, apparently taking his spattering of protest as a request for more information.


    Name: Gloriana Goodfellow Title: First Daughter of Puck


    Level: 2 Classification: Dungeon Pixie (Fauna)


    Bonds: 2(Familial)


    Creature Abilities: Camouflage, Dungeon Bond, Mana Link, Illusion I, Improved Metawell I


    P.S. Congratulations on your nascent fatherhood. You¡¯re the first dungeon to ever create a dungeon creature via another entity inside its own dungeon. Or should I say womb? I don¡¯t know. I should probably reward you for that, but it will have to wait until I stop laughing.


    Puck dismissed the snarky scroll with a huff.


    ¡°A pleasure to meet you, Father,¡± the pixie said with a mid-air bow.


    ¡°Mab, how in the name of Oberon did this happen?¡± Puck demanded more coherently.


    -The mana I took from you as punishment for bothering that unhappy fellow asleep on the ground filled me to capacity. That amount was just enough to use my Conjure Creature ability to bring our daughter to life.-


    ¡°Not our. . .¡± he began. ¡°But why?¡±


    -Forgive me, milord, but you¡¯re not the best company.- Mab stated blandly.


    Gloriana giggled and the tintinnabulation of a thousand bells brightened the dark, quiet chamber.


    Puck sighed.