Prisoner Transfer Form 7a

  Prisoner #: 42755

  Transfer From: Academyway-LLE

  Transfer To: Thornberry Hollow Penal Colony-RI

  Official Note: Prisoner is considered a low threat in and of himself. However, they may be in possession of knowledge that would make them a target for silencing agents. For this reason the prisoner during transport is considered a medium security threat and should not be moved unless in the presence of at least two royal inquisitors. Prisoner also represents a flight risk, and should not be unbound for any reason, up to and including daily ablutions. Individuals not associated with prisoner transport should not be allowed within twenty five (25) paces of prisoner at any time.

  Officer Memo: This little shit tried to use compulsion magic on some poor girl. He’s a little tit, but don’t bruise him up so bad anyone’ll notice. He needs to get here alive so he can tell us where he got his goods. MAKE SURE HE DOES.

  The rest of Joe’s vacation went by in a pleasant blur. Moira and Joe got a few more quiet moments to “read” thanks to understanding grandparents. They also met up with Ellie and her parents again, where the two six year olds exchanged letters. Having not quite gotten the hang of pen pals yet, they proceeded to tell the other child what they had each written about. Eventually though, their vacation was over and they needed to collect their wagon.

  “Their beautiful animals,” the stable hand commented, patting one of the massive Brox on their neck. To Joe’s surprise, the man completed the gesture while retaining all his fingers. The Brox even leaned into the pats, acting for all the world like it hadn’t recently stripped a man to the bone. “Whoever you rented them from clearly knows what they’re doing.”

  “Oh?” Joe asked from what he considered a safe distance. “How do you know that?”

  “The gloss of their tuft feathers.” The man ran his hand the wrong way across the Brox’s shoulder, causing the fur-like fluffy feathers that covered its flank to stand up. Now that Joe’s attention had been drawn to it, he did notice that the darker top layer did have a certain shine to it, like the feathers had been waxed. The lighter fluff feathers underneath lacked the shine which made it easier to tell the difference. “You only get that nice silky feel if you feed your Brox red meat and offal alongside their normal feed. That can get expensive for the number of animals a rental stable generally has.”

  “Ah, well.” Joe stammered, “The stable we got them from also runs a restaurant. They probably feed them on kitchen scraps.”

  “Well that’s convenient,” the man said as he slipped the harnesses onto their respective animals. “Means they probably defer some of the cost by using cuts they’d otherwise throw away. That’d also explain the small bones I found in their stools. You might want to pass it along to them that they really should be using bonemeal instead of chicken bones as a supplement. I found several undigested small bones in their stools.”

  “I’ll pass it along.” Joe said with a straight face.

  Once the animals were secured into the shafts of the wagon, Joe’s little family said their goodbyes and got underway. The journey back to Academyway was blessedly free of dangerously interesting things occurring. This was likely due to the increased guard patrols they ran into on their return trip. Word of their encounter had clearly gotten back to someone important, as they encountered no less than six patrols in the four days they were on the road. Each took their own portion of the group's time, asking questions about where they were heading and what they had seen. Despite the repeated delays, the increased guard presences did help them to feel safe on the road home, and there was no repeat of the night terrors Sarah had after the attack on their way out.

  Joe was in pretty good spirits the day they made it back to town. At least he was right up to the point he saw the blackened husk of his shop.

  <><><>

  “I am so, so sorry,” Becky sobbed again, wrapping her arms around herself like she wanted to curl herself up into a ball and simply disappear. “ If you’d never highered me, then Higgins wouldn’t have had a reason to come around and wouldn’t have raised your shop.”

  Joe sat with Becky and Paul at a table in Merrie Carrie’s cafe. They had just finished filling Joe in on everything that had happened in the wake of the shop fire. To say Joe was shocked wouldn’t be strong enough. Not even devastated could accurately describe the mix of nausea and panic welling up inside Joe as he tried to come to terms with the loss of literally everything he’d owned. Joe did his best to keep his feelings off his face however. It’s not fair to Becky to blame her for all this, she couldn’t control what Higgins did, and from the sound of it this was just a terrible accident. He set a hand on Becky’s slumped shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Hey now, don’t talk like that.”

  “But-”

  “Ah,” Joe held up a finger to stop her before she spun herself up again. “I said don’t talk like that. You, nor I had any way of knowing that Higgins would take things as far as he did. Plus from what you told me, it wasn't even his intention to torch the shop. No one is at fault here.” Joe sat back and gave a loud sniff. “ Except Higgins. That little shit deserves everything that is coming to him.”

  Beside him, a stern faced Paul nodded gravely. “Compulsion magic is highly illegal throughout the settled lands. I dare say we wont be seeing his hide around here for a good long while, if ever again. Thank the gods he never got that necklace around your neck.”

  Becky shuddered at the memory of her close call, and Joe gave her shoulder another comforting squeeze.

  “If it’s so illegal,” Joe asked, turning back to Paul. “How did he get his hands on the necessary spell array to enchant something like that?”

  “I don’t know.” Paul said, shaking his head, “But I do know a pair of royal inquisitors are in town, so I’m certain that wherever he got it won't stay hidden for long.”

  “Inquisitors?” Becky asked, her earring laden ears trying unsuccessfully to perk up. “When?”

  “Early this morning,” Paul answered, leaning back and stroking his short goatee. A small smile tugged at the edges of the hobb’s mouth. “I only know about it because they stopped by to say hello to their old captain.”

  Joe was still working that one out when his train of thought got interrupted by a loud gasp from Becky. She clamped her hands over her mouth in a posthumous attempt to keep the sound from escaping. She leaned into the table and hissed out in a whisper. “You were an-”

  “Sh,” Paul cut her off with a finger to his lips. “That’s strictly need to know. Officially I was a guard captain at a remote outpost.”

  “Oh?” Said Joe, doing his best to keep up with the conversation. “Where was that?”

  “Thornberry Hollow/”

  “Thorn-” Becky adjusted her voice to a lower volume and pitch. “Thornberry Hollow?”

  What the hell is ‘Thornberry Hollow’? Joe thought to himself, trying to keep the confusion off his face. It sounds like a jam company, but she’s acting like it’s Alcatraz.

  Paul's response didn’t help, merely chuckling and taking a sip of his drink. “But we’re getting off topic.” Paule said after an appreciative sigh. “As I was saying before Becky interrupted, she’s been helping me to compile a list of all business assets lost in the fire.” Here Paul pursed his lips and shook his head. “While the business assets are covered under your guild insurance policy; personal property, including liquid assets kept on the premises are not.”

  “Meaning?” Joe asked, dreading the answer.

  “Meaning that since it was a fire that used mana to sustain itself, it consumed all manacoins and other sources on the premises. Any money you had in your shop is lost and won't be replaced.”

  Which is everything Joe thought, he could feel the blood drain from his face as the full implications sunk in. His two companions could evidently see the change, as Paul frowned and Becky looked concerned.

  “You do have a bank account, right Joe?” Becky asked, the tone in her voice telling Joe the answer she wanted to hear.

  Joe shook his head, causing Becky to swear quietly.

  “That puts a bit of a crimp in things.” Paul said, shuffling some papers around. “Acadamyway is a bit off the normal supply lines, and it will likely be a month or two before your replacement stock gets here. The repairs can get underway now, so hopefully by the time the stock arrives enough of the building will be up for you to resume service.” Paul finished sorting the paperwork and handed it to Joe. “This is the list of lost stock as well as quotes for repair and assertions you’re not lying to the guild about what was lost.” Paul flipped through the various forms as he indicated each. “I would suggest paying the extra cost to have the signed documents forwarded via overnight mail or it could take even longer to get things moving.”

  “How much would that cost?” Joe tried to keep his tone neutral, but even with his best effort it came out strained.

  “About six bronze.” Paul said. Joe’s insides twisted. Six bronze was just a little over half the money he’d had left after the trip.

  “At least there’s still the dungeon.” Becky interjected, her droopy ears once again trying to perk up.

  “True, but the stairs are gone.” Joe pointed out. “Will the city even allow us to let people go down into it?”

  “The city exists because of the university,” Paul said with a smirk, “And the university is run by the adventurers guild who owns the dungeon. I doubt they’d stand in the way if the guild really pushed for it.”

  “And they will,” Becky added. “You’ve probably not been paying attention to what they have been bringing up since I’ve been running the potion orders, but your dungeon has been an absolute boon to them. They’re not going to let a little thing like a house fire stop them from squeezing it for all its worth. So you’ll still have that as an income.” Joe nodded, his spirits lifting a little for the first time since they got back. The feeling lasted all of about thirty seconds before it winked out like a candle dropped in water.

  “What will you do until I’m up and running?” Joe asked her. I’m not the only victim here, Joe thought to himself. Becky lost nearly everything when the upper floors collapsed into the basement, and if my personal property isn’t going to get replaced hers definitely won't be either.

  Becky put on a brave face and gave a carefree sort of shrug. “I’ll manage.” She lied. “Maybe Paule is still needing a waitress. I’m sure I’ll find something.”

  “Paule noth’n,” a familiar, loud voice boomed from behind Joe. He turned in his seat to find Merrie Carrie standing right behind him, hands firmly planted on her plush hips. The large lanoli could be remarkably quiet when she wanted to be. “You’re already bunking with my girls, no reason you couldn’t help out a little ‘round here. ‘Least until Joe gets his feet back under him.” Merrie Carrie set a large hand down on Joe’s shoulder and gave it a friendly pat.

  Becky looked back at Joe as if asking for permission, which surprised Joe as he was her employer not a parent. He gave a shrug. “I always planned on hiring you back once the shop was fixed, if you wanted to come back.”

  Becky gave an emphatic nod. “ Of course! Working at the shop was a hundred times better than being a waitress.” She colored slightly, her green skin turning a darker shade around the cheeks. Becky glanced at Merrie Carrie, “no offence Ms. Carrie.”

  Merrie Carrie gave a chuckle. She took her hand off Joe’s shoulder and used it to finger comb her fleecy hair. “None taken Sugar. It takes a special sort of person to make a career out of waitress’n and look this good while doing it.” Merrie Carrie preened a little longer before seeming to remember something “ah, and one more thing.” She dug around in her apron pocket for a moment before plunking down a set of six bronze coins onto the table in front of Paul. The stack made a merry little clink as crystalized mana hit wood. “There, now get those papers fly’n as fast as they can go.”

  “Merrie” Joe started, only to be stopped when the big lanoli put a finger to his lips. This close to his face Joe caught the smell of lavender and yara that always clung to the woman’s fur.

  “Hush you. There ain’t a thing I wouldn't do to help a friend. Now you just take the money and don’t make a big fuss about it, ya hear?” Joe could only shake his head and smile. He may have known Merrie Carrie for a handful of months, but already he knew better than to argue with her. Instead he gave a nod to Paul who scooped the money up with a chuckle and a nod.

  “Alright Merrie, but when I’m up and running again You’re getting the biggest bottle of lavender conditioner I can make.”

  <><><>

  Joe stood at the edge of the hole and peered down at the rickety looking ladder. He’d sent the insurance documents off two weeks ago. With nothing else to do but wait, Joe was left to stew in his anxiety and the structural integrity of the ladder in front of him was doing little to help that condition.

  Moira had been nice enough to let him move in with her for the moment. Joe had done his best to make her not regret it, working hard to keep the house clean and cook for his little family. But there was only so many times you could polish a surface before you couldn’t get it to shine anymore and within the week, Joe had run out of things to do. He’d tried to move down into the shop and help out, but between the forage, the glass oven, the tables and the two smiths there wasn’t anywhere he could stand that wasn’t in the way of something. Which had led to him being gently, but firmly ejected from the shop.

  So Joe had looked into when was the next time he could schedule a delve. The news wasn’t great, with no opening available for several more weeks. Thankfully Paul had pulled someone aside at the university and got a day cleared for him. Which was what led to him standing at the edge of a twelve foot pit that was once the basement of his shop.

  By now the rubble of the top two floors had been cleared away, leaving the skeleton of the outside walls as the only barrier keeping people from falling in. The construction permission hadn’t come back yet from the merchants guild, meaning that work on the shop had ground to a halt until the money showed up. A rickety wooden A frame ladder had been set up flush with the hole where the back door had been, allowing access to the dungeon door. Nobody had bothered to secure it in any way, causing the whole thing to wobble alarmingly whenever it was used.

  “Ok Joe,” Micah called from his position at the base of the ladder. “I’ve got it, come on down.”

  “There’s got to be some sort of safety regulations that are being violated here.” Grumped an unhappy Joe as he scurried down the ladder.

  “Why would there be? It’s a ladder.” Micah gave a shrug. “You go up, you go down. It’s not that complicated.”

  Joe hooked a thumb back over his shoulder at the splinter ridden abomination he’d just descended. “Why? Because if you fall off that thing and you’re going straight onto stone. Potions can do a lot, but that’s a good enough fall to break a neck.”

  Micah gave another shrug while moving off to where Jill was waiting for them by the dungeon door. “You’d have to get pretty unlucky to break your neck on a twelve foot drop. Look Joe, this isn’t the Merchant’s Guild we’re talking about. The Adventurers Guild is more concerned about loot tables and monster identification than handrails. Besides, it’s not like securing a dungeon is worth it since they’ll just shift to something new as soon as a party leaves.”

  Joe really couldn’t argue with that logic as much as he wanted to. Steady on Joe, you’re just a bit touchy because things aren’t getting fixed as quick as you’d like. Joe closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Just breathe through this. You’ll have a nice little boost after this delve that’ll see you through to the shop reopening. Maybe even get a jump on construction and have a floor and roof erected so you can at least open up a little before everything’s back to normal. The thought of having his shop back early did a lot to help calm Joe’s jittery nerves, and he fell in behind his minotaur companion.

  Micah gripped the handle of the door and pulled it open with a flourish that was likely meant to lighten the mood. Said flourish turned into a yelp and a quick jump back as a blast of furnace heat curled the hair on the minotaur's arms.

  “Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me!” Joe swore as he shielded his face. Even standing several steps back from the opening, Joe could feel his arm hair start to crisp.

  The doorway opened into an active magma chamber complete with falls of magma pouring down from vents near the ceiling into the lake of molten rock below. Decrepit stone walkways and rickety catwalks crisscrossed the vast open space. The heat was so intense that Joe couldn’t get any closer than he was to the door. It’s impossible to get in. Joe felt his frustration start to mount once more. I’m going to have to wait another month before I get a chance at another delve. Another month of sitting on my hands and waiting for things beyond my control. His emotions got ahead of him and grabbed onto his mouth.

  “This is just fucking great.” Joe growled out, startling his companions. “If I still had my stock, we would have been flush with fire resistance potions, and this wouldn’t have been a big deal. But no. Everything’s gone, my whole stock, my money, everything. There’s no way of getting in there without roasting alive and we’re going to have to wait at least another month before we can try again. Fucking, perfect.” Joe took off his tutorial specs and rubbed at his eyes. “I’ve got five bronze left to my name and no prospect of doing anything other than mooching off my girlfriend until the guild decides to get off their asses and help me rebuild my gods damned shop.” Joe continued to rub at his eyes. The action didn’t make anything better, but it soothed him enough that his tirade ground to a halt.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  When Joe finally stopped and opened his eyes it was to see his two companions staring at him, Micah with a look of concern and Jill the same placid expression as always. Wordlessly she went around behind the door and closed it, pausing for a few heartbeats before opening the door once more.

  The magma chamber beyond was gone, replaced by the decaying remains of a centuries old fort.

  “Do,” Micah glanced at Jill before looking back at Joe. “Do you want to talk about that?”

  <><><>

  “I mean, it’s great that the insurance is covering the stock losses and repairs, I’m thankful for that. But my savings? I know I should have put it in the bank, that’s on me and I think that’s what’s really hit the hardest. I fucked that up. I’m the reason I have to rely on everyone else to help me get through this. Had I just gotten around to putting my money somewhere safe, this wouldn’t have been so bad. Now when I do finally get the shop restarted, it’s going to be on a razor’s edge for the foreseeable future.” Joe unsheathed the sword he’d just dug out of a coffin. He didn’t need his tutorial specs to know it wasn’t worth keeping, as the blade was more rust than metal.

  “And you were hoping to ease that stress with proceeds from a good delve.” Jill said, her flat tone making it difficult for Joe to tell if she was asking a question or making a statement.

  “Yeah, and the thought of it being another wash was a little more than I could handle in the moment.”

  There came a loud crash from the crypt next door, followed by the sound of creative swearing and a billow of dust into the hallway. The two of them watched the dust drift by for a moment before Joe turned back to Jill. “should we go help him?”

  Jill shook her head, “if he can swear like that he’s fine.” She hefted the large flagstone they had been using over her head. “Alright, open the next one.” the room they were in was a roughly rectangular gallery with six stone sarcophaguses arranged into two rows. The walls had likely once held colorful tapestries, if the tarnished brass rails over piles of dusty fabric were anything to go by. Now all was bare stone and choking dust. Joe positioned himself along the long edge of their next target and gave the heavy stone lid a shove.

  Reluctantly the lid slid to one side and hit the ground with a crash, revealing the desiccated corpse within. It was richly dressed, with the remnants of a deep red silk robe held in place with a wide rotten leather belt. Rings glittered on each finger and a thin coronet of worked gold circled its brow.

  As the light hit its face, a green glow flared brightly in the draugr’s hollow eye sockets. It had just enough time to open its mouth in a howl of rage before the heavy flagstone caved in its skull with a sickening crunch. Is it bad I want to write ‘good morning’ on the rock Joe thought to himself as he reached in and started stripping rings off of fingers. Out loud he continued their conversation.

  “At least we’re finding enough mundane loot to make a decent pay out. That’s going a long way to make me feel better.” He examined the collection of silver and gold rings in his hand with his tutorial specs, finding them to be unenchanted.

  “Yes, the crown always needs refinable mana sources. Although I’ve heard the exchange rate of dungeon metals to manacoins is not that good.” Jill said as she tugged at the large stone now replacing the draugr’s head. On the third try she managed to get it back up on her shoulder.

  “Do you want me to take a turn with the rock?” Joe asked, he could see where the weight of the rock was deforming her shoulder.

  “I am alright,” Jill answered.

  “You’ve been on rock duty for the last four coffins.”

  “I have been cycling members as they tire out.” Jill explained as she moved into position at the head of the next stone sarcophagus.

  “Well once,” Joe hesitated for only a moment as he struggled to think of the appropriate word. Do I call them ‘members’ too? It just sounds dirty to me. “Everyone has had a turn, let me know and we can switch.”

  “Hey!” Micah called from down the hall, “I got a live one over here!” A bright flash of light briefly illuminated the doorway an instant before a loud ‘FWOOM’ shook dirt from the ceiling. “Aw fuck, and it knows magic!”

  Joe and Jill spared each other only a quick glance before rushing to Micah’s aid. What they saw when they got there was not at all what Joe had been expecting. A bone construct wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Paris ossuary towered over Micah. Its body was built from multiple human skeletons all bound together with corroded copper bands creating one giant skeleton out of many. In its compound right hand it wielded a hammer made from a skeleton bound to a thick wooden cross. In lieu of a left arm a collection of skeletal upper torsos mounted on long spines writhed back and forth, their arms weaving in complicated patterns.

  Ossuary Guardian

  Type: Undead

  PL: 2

  Created from the bones of the condemned and powered by their tortured souls, ossuary guardians are often concealed in the walls of crypts to act as eternal guardians to the rich and powerful.

  Another flash of light zipped between several of their hands before growing into a beachball sized fireball that shot off towards Micah. The minotaur had just enough time to dodge before the spell impacted the ground with another resonant boom and the spreading smell of sulfur.

  “Any day now you two” he yelled over his shoulder.

  “Oh,” Joe snapped out of his shock, “sorry.” Jill and he ducked into the room, splitting off immediately after getting through the doorway to divide the monster's attention. The construct however could apparently focus on multiple attackers at once. Its right arm took a swing at Joe with its massive hammer while the cluster of magic wielding skeletons making up its left sent rays of cold out at both his companions.

  Joe ducked feeling the wind of the hammer as it passed over his head and nearly soiled himself. On the other side of the room, Joe’s companions fared worse. Neither of them were able to get fully out of the line of fire and both took glancing blows. Micah was caught across the shoulder, the skin immediately turning black with frostbite. Jill got caught on the leg, the limb immediately shattered as her gelatinous body went hard and fragile with the cold. Jill stumbled, unable to keep her balance without the missing limb.

  Sensing her weakness, the construct turned on her. It raised its hammer over the cluster of skulls mounted on its shoulders, ready to crush its would-be victim. A side tackle from Micah made the construct stagger and its blow to go wide.

  While Micah distracted the monster, Joe circled around to the wounded lamnotta. He expected to have to carry her to safety, at least while she took time to heal her leg. Instead he found a whole, if somewhat shorter, woman standing in ill-fitting armor.

  “I’m alright” Jill said, dusting herself off and retrieving a coin from her belt pouch. “Please get my idiot out of the way so I can end this.”

  Joe looked back to find Micah, legs clamped around the things waist, doing his best to stay out of the way of its attacks while he methodically smashed at it with a rock he’d gotten from somewhere. Blood oozed from cracks in his frostbitten skin, but if the wound hurt he didn’t show it.

  “Micah!” Joe called, gripping his handshaker as he raced towards the fray. “Jill’s getting a spell ready, get out of the way.”

  “Easier said than done.” Micah grumbled, twisting as a lightning bolt crackled past. “If you’ve got any ideas on how to do it, I’m listening.”

  The construct took a ponderous step, twisting this way and that in an attempt to dislodge its unwanted passenger. Joe ducked a swing the monsters hammer, thinking as quickly as he could of a way to help his friend. As is often the case when someone thinks too quickly, the eventual idea was not a good one. Joe looked down at his handshaker, and the words “throwing spear” popped into his mind. Without putting any more thought into the action, he hefted the weapon up into his best approximation of a javelin throw and gave it his all.

  If effort alone would have been enough to land a successful hit, then Joe would have scored a killing blow. Unfortunately skill is built more on effort over time than effort in the moment, and Joe had never practiced throwing his handshaker before. The trajectory was too flat for the weight of the weapon, and the heavy steel blade drug the front of the handshaker down well before it reached its target. When the weapon did strike, it was less killing blow and more comedy rake to the face.

  It did, however, have the desired effect of drawing the monster's attention away from Micah. The problem was that it the construct was not focusing on an unarmed Joe instead. Joe got one good solid swear in before he was forced to dive sideways to avoid another fireball.

  The blow must have annoyed the construct, as its first spell was quickly followed by two more and a blow from its club, the last thudding into the ground so close to Joe the hem of his shirt was caught under it and tore. Before Joe’s attacker had a chance to try again however, it was hit with a rippling vortex of color. The result was a sound like an anvil falling on a stack of bamboo canes followed by a shower of bone fragments and dust.

  The construct staggered in the depths of its self made cloud, bits of it becoming briefly visible as the creature attempted to keep its balance. Without waiting for that to happen, Jill sent another bolt of force into the center of the cloud. The noise and renewed shower of bone confirming the hit they couldn’t see. A moment later the ground trembled as a crash sounded from deep within the swirling dust, then all was quiet. Joe didn’t take chances however, and executed the best crab run his physique would allow to get out of range of any potential counterstrike.

  “Do you think you got it?” he asked, glancing over at Jill where she stood with another coin ready.

  “I’d hope so,” Micah responded for her, “gods above Jill, what were you using in that spell gold?”

  “Silver.” Jill responded, finally lowering her hand and tucking the coin away.

  “Silver?! You just blew through two silver on taking down a bone construct?” Micah’s eyebrows went up and he stopped trying to brush bone dust off his arms.

  “It took my leg.” Jill said simply. “How much of our profits did you go through when you got a chance to play with that manablaster?”

  “Let’s just see what it’s got.” Micah said, giving an unconvincing cough.

  The theme of the dungeon had been a long abandoned crypt buried beneath the ruins of a collapsed fort. This had led to the loot and monsters following a graveyard theme with lots of undead and burial goods. Honestly at this point if we found food, Joe thought as he began picking through the bone gravel left in the wake of Jill’s attack, I wouldn’t trust it. Between the three of them the group had located six enchanted rings of various elemental spells, as well as a collection of mundane jewelry and another coronet.

  Jill produced a rag from one o f her belt pouches, using it to clean her hands as she stood. “To get back to what we were talking about before.” she said as she handed the cloth off to Micah who began scrubbing his own hands. “It’s understandable to be frustrated with the amount of loss and stress you have been under. However, please don’t bottle it up until it explodes.”

  “Yeah,” Micah interjected, passing Joe the rag. “You know you’ve got people you can talk to right? Not just us but Moira and Merrie too.”

  Jill nodded along. “ I’m sure even your neighbors would be willing to listen.”

  Joe knew they meant well. Honestly their willingness to put their own names first spoke volumes to their kindness. Their words however did little more than embarrass Joe. His outburst had been childish, and he felt bad that he wasn’t able to keep a lid on it.

  Joe accepted the rag from Micah with a sigh. “Thanks, but I’m doing better. It’ll all work out. I just need to give it time and I know I’m trying to rush it.” When he was done, Joe passed the rag back to Micah who was closer. Micah took it back before giving Joe a pat on the shoulder, clearly trying to be reassuring.

  “Well, if you need to get something else off your chest, don’t hesitate to talk about it. But for now, let's get you some more loot.”

  Joe gave the large minotaur a smile. “Alright, sounds good.”

  The theme remained stable for another four rooms before taking an abrupt shift. The walls became slick with moisture before softening and turning pink. A hot, wet breeze first blew into their faces before reversing directions and sucking back down the hall.

  “This is a throat.” Micah stated, reaching out to run a finger along the wall. The surface dented beneath his digit, and when he pulled it back it was coated in a thick goo.

  “Joy, what sort of monsters are we gunna find in a flesh dungeon?” Joe asked, eyeing the walls suspiciously.

  “Flesh abominations.” Jill stated.

  “I’m sorry what? Flesh abominations?” Joe turned to look at Jill. “Can you elaborate on that a little more?”

  “Not really, flesh abominations cover a wide variety of flesh elementals. Attempting to list every possible abomination we could face would easily upset you.”

  “That statement in and of itself, is upsetting.”

  “Think, really big parasites.” Micah supplied, pointing down the hallway. “Kinda like those over there.”

  At first Joe couldn’t see what Micah was talking about. When he finally did spot the writing mass of hair like white worms flowing out of little bloody holes in the ceiling and walls, his whole body gave an involuntary shudder. The worms congregated as they flowed nearer, twisting into increasingly thick robes of wiggling bodies.

  Dire Tapeworms

  Type: Vermin

  PL: 0.05

  A common parasite of large creatures, dire tapeworms will band together to form colonial constructs if threatened.

  “Still glad we managed to do a delve today?” Micah asked, stepping backwards as he fished a coin out of his belt. “What do you think Jill? Cone of fire down the hall?”

  “Oh, so spending mana is fine when you want to do it?” Jill’s monotone did little to hide the barb in it.

  “I was just going to use a bronze. Besides, you know swarm enemies are hard to deal with unless you use area spells.”

  Jill nodded her acknowledgement, but didn’t comment further so Micah pressed the coin into his palm and spoke the verbal trigger for his spell. A gout of flame shot from Micah’s palm, somehow not burning him despite the wash of heat Joe could feel even standing behind him. The spell only lasted a bare few seconds, but in that time Micah was able to sweep the fire over the walls and ceiling, causing the hairlike worms to shrivel and die. The walls beneath the worms was also damaged, drying out and blistering in the intense heat. The whole hallway suddenly gave a violent spasm like a hard cough, before moisture and blood began to well up through the burned patches. Where the fluids landed, small wisps of smoke puffed up. A drop fell on Joe’s hand and began to immediately burn.

  “Perhaps ice would have been a better option.” Jill commented, hauling her pack over her head. The three of them made a break for the other end of the hall. Behind them massive blisters grew from the walls, each attaining the size and color of a head of cabbage before bursting in a shower of green goo. The sharp alchemic smell wafting from the burst pustules was enough to convince JOe that he didn't want to get any of it on himself.

  Their mad dash to get out of the line of fire left them little time to survey the next room before entering into it. Had they, they would have been warier about brushing up against the fleshy vines that filled the next area. As soon as one touched Joe’s bare skin, pain shot through his whole body.

  “Son of a bitch!” Joe jerked his arm back, only to have the vine stay firmly attached to his wrist. The other hanging vines near him began to twitch and sway as if blown in a wind that wasn’t there. Unlike wind however, the swaying wasn’t side to side, but in and out centering on Joe and getting closer as they built up momentum. Joe looked up into a ceiling covered in barrel sized polyps. Each pulsing mount of flesh was crowned with a ring of short tentacles arranged around a mouth like an octopus’s beak. The ‘vine’ that had attached itself to Joe hung out the creature's open maw. As Joe watched the whole polyp flexed, tightening the slack and yanking Joe’s arm into the air. He tugged with all his strength, but could not break the creature's grip on his wrist.

  Barrel Polyp

  Type: Trap

  PL: 1

  Barrel Polyps congregate in large numbers where they compete with each other over prey. While not intelligent enough to work together, this clumping tendency allows them to capture prey far lager than any one of them could alone.

  “Joe,” Jill called from somewhere behind him, “Don’t pull on it, you’ll just get drug into the air. Cut it off near your arm.”

  Joe gave his captor another firm tug, pulling the fleshy appendage taunt before bringing the ax head of his hand shaker down on it. The flesh parted like two halves of a stretched rubber band, and the polyp reeled in what remained of its tongue. Joe didn't have time to savor his victory, as his attacker’s neighbors had finally gotten enough of a swing going to bring their own tendrils into the fray. Joe hit the ground hard as they passed over his head, briefly tangling up as whatever adhesive they used bonded to itself.

  Executing the best army crawl an almost forty year old, out of shape shopkeeper could do, Joe managed to stay just under the hovering danger. From his ground level vantage point Joe could see that Micah had fallen afoul of the same trap he had. The young minotaur was tangled in four of the stinging tongues, flailing and cussing the entire time he fought for his life. Only his sheer weight and the death grip he had on Jill's hand prevented him from getting pulled up to a messy dismemberment. A knife lay at Jill's feet, probably meant to cut her companion free before both hands needed to be used to keep him close to the ground.

  Joe did his best to worm his way into the clear spot left by the tentacles wrapped around Micah. He had to stand practically on top of Jill to ensure that he wasn’t touched by another one, but after a few close calls Joe managed to get all the way back onto his feet. Setting a hand on Jill's back for balance, Joe leaned over her to bring the sharp spike of his weapon close enough to cut the tentacles off Micah. They parted as easily as the first one had, with separation of the last one dropping Micah to the ground in an undignified heap.

  “Thanks,” he wheezed as he rolled onto his back. “Ye gods these things burn like a red hot iron.” Micah reached for one of the tongue ends on his arm, but thought better and left it where it was.

  “Just lay flat” Jill instructed. “We’ll deal with them when we get to the other side of this room.”

  “And how are we going to do that?” Joe asked, stepping closer to the lamnotta as the tentacles around them began to sway closer.

  “Lay back down on the ground and follow me.”

  Before Joe could ask for clarification, Jill stepped into the hanging tendrils. Wherever one touched her, it slid off with no more ill effect than a rope would have.

  What the hell Joe thought as he got back down into a prone position, Is lamnotta skin nonstick? Joe thought back to the brief contact he’d had with Jill’s shoulder as he’d leaned over her to cut Micah free. Her skin did feel pretty smooth and cool, but not oily or wet. Maybe it’s some sort of outer membrane or something? Fuck it, whatever it is, she’s not getting stung. I better get moving before I completely lose her.

  The floor was made of hard, irregular lumps that looked and smelled like fused tonsil stones. They formed ridges and valleys that forced their progress into a series of zigzags as they did their best to stay in the deeper sections as far away from the hanging polyps as possible. The pain of Joe’s brush with the tentacle made their progress feel agonizingly slow. They did, however, eventually make it to the other side of the room.

  “I’m going to hate crossing that one on the return trip.” Joe muttered. As he stood both his knees gave a loud pop that didn’t really help to make the pain in them any better.

  “Yeah, and there are far too many of them to torch.” Micah grumped, standing with less noise and getting an envious look from Joe.

  “We still have some time before that becomes an issue,” Jill reminded them. “Joe, do you have any healing potions left?”

  “Just a few, although I’d drink them all in a heartbeat if it meant I could get this off me.” Joe responded, holding up the hand that still had the tentacle attached to it.

  “Speak for yourself. I’m about ready to just cut my arm off.” Micah’s hand wandered to where one of the tentacles still clung to his inner thigh, but he mastered himself and left it alone.

  “I’ll get them off.” Jill moved up to Micah and gripped the one attached to Micah’s inner thigh.

  Micah gave a grunt before a lascivious smirk settled onto his face. “Not the first time you’ve gripped a tentacle between my legs.”

  “Hush, Joe doesn’t need to hear that.” Carefully, Jill began to work her free hand between the severed tentacle and Micah’s skin. Wherever it touched the adhesive of the tentacle melted away, leaving a patch of angry red skin covered in tiny yellow blisters.

  Micah sucked air in through his teeth. “Ow. Yeah, that looks about how it feels. Joe, can you pass me one of the potions please?” Micah held up his hand to catch the bottle Joe tossed his way before taking the cork out with his teeth and pouring a small measure of the liquid onto the wound. Immediately the blisters sank back into the skin, which itself turned a much healthier shade before the newly grown hair covered everything up.

  While Jill tended to Micah, Joe took stock of their surroundings. The room they were in was a massive cave of flesh colored rock roughly the size of a football stadium. The air was hot and humid. Everywhere Joe looked the walls glittered with moisture as the light from their burning manacoins reflected endlessly back and forth. The group stood on one side of a bridge made of bone that spanned a chasm deep enough to swallow any light foolish enough to plumb its depths.

  Joe was just able to make out the distant door to the next room far off in the gloom on the other side of the bridge. Should I be worried or relieved that there’s no obvious monsters lurking in here? Joe thought to himself, scanning the ceiling and as far down one wall as his light would go. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Jill touched his arm, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by Micah who gave a snort of laughter.

  Once Joe was sorted out, the group moved down the length of the bridge each keeping an eye out for any more traps or ambushes. When they got to the far end without incident, Joe was more worried than relieved. The doorway before them irised open with an unpleasantly organic noise, revealing the core room of the dungeon.

  “Oh wow, already?” Micah asked as the three of them filed in to admire the geode like architecture of the core room. “I was worried we’d be doing another two hours of the aberrant layout at least.”

  “I think perhaps that has something to do with it.” Jill nodded at the brightly glowing core.

  It took Joe a moment of shielding his eyes and squinting, but he was eventually able to see what Jill was talking about. Despite all the light the core was putting out, there was a large dark spot in the center. It looks like a chicken egg on a flashlight. Joe stepped up to the core and reached out towards it. Is it cracking?

  “Hey Joe,” Micah said from behind him. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Something's up with it.”

  That was when the core exploded.