Thrash’s boots were soaked through before he could see where he’d landed. His eyes eventually focused, the surrounding room bright and colourful. Compared to the last time he’d descended - with nearly fifteen cultists in tow - it was quiet, peaceful, and calming. Thrash felt he could take an extra minute to assess his surroundings. Pierre coughed, landing with another thud beside him. Thrash gave him a wave before he could move.

  ‘Watch your step,’ he said, moving from the pool of water and dripping onto a patch of mossy stone. ‘My feet are already wet.’

  Nobody likes feet talk, man-child, Mush whispered in Thrash’s interface.

  Thrash shook his head in response, tiptoeing across the seemingly empty room. The walls were tall, etched with faded runes and draped in webs of creeping vines that slithered along the stone like wary snakes. Bright moonlight shimmered down through cracks in the ceiling, painting silver light across the floor, forming shadows on the chamber’s far side where three large holes in the wall were leading to different corridors. Thrash peered over, inspecting each doorway.

  Each path was distinct, yet each was as uninviting as the other, shivers crawling along Thrash’s spine as Pierre approached from his side, leaning on the balls of his feet for a better view. One seemed to lead into a pitch-black void, while the second and third were cloaked behind curtains of thick, thorny vines.

  The air felt heavy, the scent of damp stone and rot wafting from the corridors. Pierre withdrew his new blade, while Sigrid hung gently from beside Thrash, the point of her blade almost scratching the floor.

  Thrash lifted a finger to his chin, scratching at the light stubble. He still needed to shave.

  Mush can provide a shank for hair-trimming purposes, Mush noted for him.

  Thanks, Mush.

  ‘So,’ Thrash said aloud. ‘There’s a small chance for a boss to appear on floors one to five - the same one that the Starr-Crossed Lovers summoned. You feeling confident?’

  Pierre cracked his back as he stretched, eyeing his new blade. ‘Sure am. Yer got a plan in mind?’

  Thrash nodded, making sure he had his spells and consumables at hand for easy consumption. ‘I lead, you follow. I can jump back if we meet an Undead Miner and you can finish them off with that sword of yours. They will need to be killed by fire for it to count on the Weekly Challenge.’

  ‘Sounds good.’ Pierre pointed with his sword. ‘Which route do yer want to take?’

  Thrash moved to look deeper into the route leading to the pit of darkness, a chill emitting from it, frosty in the air. He sniffed, the smell of rotten eggs sizzling his nose hairs, before a sense of recognition whirled within him.

  ‘Back!’ Thrash shouted, not a moment too soon. A skeletal hand stretched out from within the doorway, decomposing fingers reaching for where Thrash had been standing.

  Pierre let out a light grunt, eyes widening. ‘What is that?’ he asked, holding his sword toward the half-formed creature.

  ‘I’ll give you three guesses,’ Thrash said sarcastically, the two moving further back within the room.

  The mob slowly shuffled into view. As Thrash expected, it was an Undead Miner, its frame wrapped in the tattered remains of bright orange work clothes, now rotted and frayed. The miner’s skeletal form was bound together by scraps of decomposing flesh and muscle, a yellow, mouldy aura forming around it.

  Thrash inspected it.

  Undead Miner: Level 2

  Type: Undead Humanoid

  Go to work, they said. The mines aren’t dangerous, they said.

  These poor souls turned up to work one day without knowing it would be their last, altered forever alongside the Painswick King. Skeletal and hunched, these miners bear the weight of decades, their hollow eye sockets flickering a sickly green as they move. Tattered work clothes sag around them, each miner clinging onto the tool that they favoured in life; whether a rusty pickaxe, a dull shovel, or their own pointed fingernails.

  Treat these mobs with the same respect that you’d give your favourite rockstar - you know, the one that just refuses to drop? The one that clings to life through seemingly vampiric methods? The one that eats bats and birds?

  All aboard, baby.

  Warning - ignore their moans. Don’t make the same mistakes as Mummy.

  As the miner approached, Thrash could hear Pierre gag beside him. The strong, sour smell of decaying earth, mixed with the sulfuric sting that Thrash had smelt earlier, almost brought him to his knees. It was cartoonish, the way that deep, green smog emitted from the miner’s mouth; from behind dead, black teeth and thin layers of skin.

  ‘Health levels, Mush!’ Thrash shouted into the atmosphere, unable to prompt a readout himself.

  Mush quickly responded. Level Two Undead Miner… This mob has 58 health points.

  Thrash immediately shot his palm out, giving Pierre a warning look as he did. Whip It activated and plummeted towards the Undead Miner, the fleshy tentacle colliding with its chest and splitting the mob in half at the waist.

  20 damage points dealt.

  38 health remaining.

  Elemental damage inflicted: 2 fire damage inflicted each second for 30 seconds.

  ‘What the -’ Thrash started, watching the skeleton thud across the floor in two separate pieces. It had been split, yet was still alive.

  ‘Hold on,’ Pierre said. ‘This is ringing a bell. I had some tiny versions of these guys on the farm. Yer need to swipe at the head, I reckon.’

  The top half of the Undead Miner used its long, dying fingers to drag itself across the ground and toward its legs. Its bones rattled and ground against the floor, the sound not unlike a pestle and mortar, grinding away at dried herbs. It’s head twisted towards Thrash with every other drag, eyes like the bulb of a lighthouse, warning him away. He shuddered, feeling the fear within his bones.

  Pierre rushed forwards, taking Thrash by surprise. His blade swung down at the slowly dying creature, crunching against its skull and sending splinters of bone flying in each and every direction. Fire leapt from the blade, drowning the body in red flames and black smoke. Thrash winced, the air filling with the scent of burning flesh, and then coughed. He looked on from the sidelines, Pierre’s eyes narrowing to inspect the fallen creature. Thrash watched his interface light up, his achievement icon spinning happily in place. He’d also received notification that Sigrid had levelled up.

  Nice work, Sigrid, he whispered to himself.

  WELL DONE, SIGRID, DARLING! Mush added enthusiastically.

  Now that Sigrid had reached Level 4, her base damage had risen to 20 while Thrash’s various stats increased her total damage to 22. It also meant that she would know another word…

  Thrash gulped silently, looking back to Pierre. ‘All good?’

  ‘One of twenty,’ the farmer grinned, prodding the mob’s lifeless body. ‘I reckon we try this corridor, see.’

  Thrash nodded. ‘It was always going to be the pitch black corridor, wasn’t it?’

  Pierre knelt down, picking up a small item. He held it up for Thrash to see. It was a bone. Thrash reviewed the Weekly Challenge, noting that the task had an ‘In Progress’ symbol attached to it. They’d killed one Undead Miner, while Pierre had just looted the first bone.

  ‘I reckon yer right, Thrash,’ Pierre nodded, pointing his sword down the dark tunnel. ‘This one smells funny.’

  Thrash checked the room once more, trying to peek down the remaining two corridors. Neither gave him a clear view as to what was ahead, so he stared at the void in front of Pierre, gripping Sigrid. His stomach twisted with apprehension, but he sighed, thinking of his Dungeon Experience Points. ‘Lets go, then.’

  As they pushed down the route, Pierre brought out a small, lit torch, passing it to Thrash. ‘Hold this, see. I can handle the miners for yer, but I need light.’

  Thrash accepted, though there didn’t seem to be any mobs ahead. They continued walking, his mind suddenly busy with the events of the past few days. Working towards the Weekly Challenge - specifically for the experience points - reiterated his fury, his pacifier slowly pulsing to keep him sane. He’d been doing so well - in his mind at least. Adapting to the dungeon, working with Mush, and even helping his patrons. It felt natural and easy. Yet within an instant, a handful of people had sent him tumbling and spiralling down, dismissing nearly all of his progress. His fist clenched, his thoughts turning red.

  ‘Whoa!’ Pierre shouted, jumping forwards and spinning around, facing Thrash in the darkness. His face was alight in the flames of the torch. ‘Watch where yer hold that thing, yer nearly burned my back!’

  ‘Sorry, Pierre,’ Thrash apologised. ‘Busy brain.’

  Pierre huffed, turning back around. ‘Yer can’t get distracted. That’s rule one, I’m pretty sure. Distractions equal death. Even I know that.’

  Thrash felt as though he should salute, smiling as they continued to walk down the dark pathway. The walls were closing in on them, the atmosphere dropping, air cool and heavy. A small light was forming in the distance, a little ball of yellow spiralling around.

  Pierre grunted, and then paused before speaking. ‘Yer father - has he reached out to yer again?’

  Thrash shrugged, then realising Pierre wasn’t looking in his direction. ‘No, but I wouldn’t know if he had, right? If Una had blocked him? I must admit, knowing he was watching was quite reassuring.’

  Pierre snorted. ‘He got yer into this mess, Thrash. Besides, yer got help where yer need it, see. I might not be at the top of the leaderboards, but I’m not out to kill yer.’

  ‘Thanks, Pierre,’ Thrash said, trying not to sound sarcastic. ‘What is that light?’

  They finally reached the ball of light, its size increasing as they approached. It dawned on Thrash that the light indicated a new room of the floor, a glowing staircase brightly lit in the far corner, around twenty paces away. The two Adventurers stopped at the entrance, peering in for a better look. It appeared to be empty, the walls made up of crumbling, ancient rocks, moss and vines holding the stone together. The ground was covered in dusty, black sand, light gusts of wind causing granules to fly through the air, brushing and grating against Thrash’s skin.

  Thrash entered first, reaching around his back to find the pickaxe that Mush had given him when he’d first awoken in Starr Eternal. He plunged the pickaxe into the ground, a small icon appearing.

  Mining Progress: 15%

  Hits Remaining: 7

  Thrash grinned, repeating the process until only three hits remained. Suddenly, Pierre’s shout echoed through the air, his body quickly following in one sharp motion, colliding with Thrash. They were launched off of their feet, landing roughly in the sand beside the staircase. Thrash grunted, clutching his forehead where blood began to trickle down. Pierre rushed up beside him, already on his feet, a force to be reckoned with.

  ‘Three of the bastards,’ Pierre yelled, sword raised and eyes fixed on where Thrash had been standing.

  Thrash scrambled to his feet, scanning the room. Pierre had saved him just in time - again. He gritted his teeth. Mounds had burst from the floor where he’d been standing, the ghastly creatures having emerged without a sound. He needed to do better.

  Thrash withdrew Sigrid, but held his hand up first, shouting out his spell like a budget magician. ‘Roots of Wrath!’

  His mana dropped by 50 points, and with a violent eruption, thorny vines surged from the ground beneath one of the Undead Miners, entangling its limbs as black sand sprayed into the air like a swarm of mosquitos. The remaining mobs staggered in the chaos, falling with crunching thuds to the ground. Thrash charged forward. ‘Let me get a swipe or two on each,’ he growled to Pierre, ‘then you finish them off.’

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Pierre was right on his heels as Thrash slashed down with a ruthless strike, cutting through one of the two mobs that hadn’t been immobilised in a clean arc, slashing harshly at its skull.

  ‘Oh, stop, daddy!’ Sigrid moaned in delight.

  Good work, Sigrid darling, Mush complimented in Thrash’s interface. Mummy is so proud. Who’s a good girl? Who’s a good girl with a new word? Speak, darling - show us what you’ve learned!

  Thrash ignored his two companions and dived away from the downed mob, which now had 37 health remaining.

  ‘Now, Pierre!’ Thrash shouted.

  ‘I’m with yer!’ Pierre yelled back in response.

  Thrash leapt back, cohesively swapping places with the farmer. Pierre closed in and set the mob alight with his slashes, instantly downing it. Thrash had no time to celebrate. He pivoted toward the second approaching creature, his swing biting into its skull with crushing force, dealing critical damage and sending it flying behind its immobilised companion and almost straight into Pierre.

  ‘Please! Stop, daddy!’

  42 damage points dealt.

  16 health remaining.

  Elemental damage inflicted: 4 ice damage inflicted each second for 30 seconds.

  ‘Pierre - take that one, now!’ Thrash ordered. ‘I need it in flames!’

  Pierre swung hard, but the miner launched a brutal counter, a defensive stance that flung the blow back on him. Pierre was hurled across the room, tumbling like a ragdoll until he smashed into the trembling wall. Ancient stones tumbled down, bouncing off his head, while a series of red prompts hovered above the farmer’s head.

  ‘Ouch!’ Pierre groaned, sprawled in the rubble.

  Oh dear. Tell the Mr Careful to be careful, Mush said, a hint of humour in her voice. He likes that word. Careful of those rocks, farmer! Too late!

  A roar echoed, the immobilised mob regaining movement. Thrash swore, jumping directly into the line of sight of both creatures. He brandished his sword, pleading for a couple of flame assisted attacks.

  Pierre groaned, Thrash’s eyes darting to the fallen man. He had enough health remaining to keep him alive, but seemed to be stunned in place. Thrash twisted, dancing around the newly mobile enemy. Before he could swing at the ice-damaged miner, Pierre’s blade whizzed past his head, colliding directly with the creature’s neck. Flames erupted around it, replacing Thrash’s ice damage and finishing it in a single blow. Thrash jumped away from the falling body, the final mob screeching in protest.

  Thrash dodged as the deteriorated body of the final Undead Miner lurched towards him. It was using its own arm as a weapon, swinging it in a crude attempt to attack. Thrash evaded it and unleashed Roots of Wrath for a second time, a fresh snare of vines tying it to the floor. He circled around it, deflecting another attack as Pierre staggered back to his feet, wiping blood from his mouth.

  With a hoarse shout, Pierre lunged at the last mob. Thrash quickly swept up the fallen blade, flipping it expertly in the air towards his friend. Pierre caught it in a swift motion, swinging the blade in vengeance. Thrash landed one final, decisive blow before stepping back from the fray, Sigrid letting out an exhilarated scream in his grip.

  ‘Please, daddy! HARDER!’

  20 damage points dealt.

  22 health remaining.

  Elemental damage inflicted: 4 fire damage inflicted each second for 30 seconds.

  Pierre shouted a curse at the creature, hitting it as hard as he could, flames erupting around it. The mob finally fell to the ground, defeated. Pierre fell to his knees, wiping his forehead as a simple message appeared on Thrash’s interface: Combat Over. They shared a glance, Pierre pressing a hand against his own bruised head.

  ‘God dammit, I reckon I feel like yer do after they’ve messed with yer pacifier,’ Pierre muttered, grimacing. ‘That hurt. That really fucking hurt.’

  MUSH WILL PREPARE HELMETS FOR MR CAREFUL, Mush boomed to Thrash, who snorted.

  ‘Mush is making a helmet for you,’ Thrash said to Pierre, tapping his head for Pierre’s benefit. He looked at Sigrid, the sword pulsing on the ground beside him. ‘Harder?’

  Pierre snorted, and then broke out into a chuckle. Thrash joined him, shaking his head with a delirious smile.

  ‘Nobody would believe yer,’ the farmer snorted again. ‘I don’t remember any Adventurer having a sword like that before.’

  Thrash nodded in agreement. ‘It’s a bloody nightmare, honestly. You want to loot these three? You killed them all.’

  Pierre rolled his eyes but made to stand anyway, biting into a Heath Apple. ‘Yer know that ain’t true.’

  Thrash sat back, watching the man visit each of the three bodies in turn. Thrash skimmed through his interface, but was unable to open his achievements or further assess Sigrid’s level up. He sniffed, clicking through to the challenge to see their progress.

  Objective: Burn 20x Undead Miners.

  Progress: 4/20

  Bonus Objective: Collect 10x Bones

  Progress: 3/10

  As if on cue, Pierre spoke. ‘Only two bones this time. A couple of interesting bits to look at with yer later, though.’

  Thrash nodded, standing once again. ‘Excellent. Hold on - last thing before we head down a floor.’

  Thrash started swinging his pickaxe toward the floor again, its pointed metal clanging and chiming against the ground. In three quick swings, a notification appeared on his interface.

  Mining Success!

  Item 1: 4x Stone Pieces

  Item 2: 3x Copper Ore

  Thrash allowed the items to move into his inventory, walking to Pierre to make sure the rest of the room was clear of any loot. They both checked around, Pierre sniffing and clapping his hands to signal he was finished. ‘Right, yer ready to head down?’

  Thrash nodded, but a notification dinged on his interface. He’d received a message, but it was unlike anything he’d read before. It was once again from the Dungeons and Miners Association.

  ‘What the -’ he started, before beginning to read. Pierre moved to his side.

  1 second ago: Dungeons and Miners Association: IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT FOR ALL DUNGEON MASTERS:

  Thank you to all who attended the recent Dungeons and Miners Association meeting regarding our New Dungeon Quality Standards Implementation. We appreciate your engagement and are pleased to report that the meeting was a great success.

  Summary minutes will be mailed to you within the next 24 hours for your reference.

  Thank you for your continued commitment to maintaining the highest standards of quality. Our next meeting date will be mailed to you in due time.

  Thank you for your commitment to quality.

  Thrash took a long, deep breath, feeling his face redden. His pacifier was working overtime, his anger bubbling up to his throat. Pierre read through the announcement in silence, Thrash writing his own message to Una and attaching the guild’s notice.

  Pierre coughed a warning. ‘Me father used to say that a message sent in anger is like firing a bullet. Yer can’t take it back.’

  Thrash glared daggers at the tanned man, who stepped back and held his hands up, speaking again. ‘All the same, words unspoken can be yer greatest regret.’

  1 second ago: Thrash: Hey, ‘representative’. Did you fancy telling me about this? Mush and I would have loved to attend.

  He closed down his interface, muting the chat for a short time, his fury too strong to deal with a response. He turned to Pierre, clicked his neck, and sniffed. ‘I need to hit something - hard. Ready?’

  Pierre hesitated, but then his eyes sparkled with his grin, his hands raising toward the stairway. ‘Ready.’

  Thrash and Pierre battled their way through another three floors, now standing in a large, open room, covered with vines and felled trees. It looked like a battlefield in itself, the usually vibrant green a washed, dark brown. Plants were rotting, the sun had set, and a litter of Undead Miners were sprawled across the ground. It seemed that the vines were slowly pulling the bodies back beneath the earth, the floor taking them hostage for its own benefit.

  Thrash desperately wanted to head back to base and get some answers, but he waited - somewhat patiently. Despite the fact that they were both doing brilliantly, and that two of his party-based skills had upgraded, he still felt furious, unable to enjoy the progress. His Buff Bros skill, increasing party-based damage by 10%, had increased to 12%, while his Party all the Time skill improved party experience gain from 5% to 6%. He huffed, looking around the room again, waiting.

  Pierre coughed, kicking a few fallen branches from the floor. He was sweaty - more so than Thrash had ever been. His tight muscles were convulsing, his thorny blade hanging dutifully from one hand. Amongst the vines, Thrash thought that he looked like a king of sorts - a Thorn King. His sword dripped blood, his new Thorn Crown a fantastic addition to his gear. He’d picked it up from a fallen miner, the item a legendary drop in the Mines of Painswick; it allowed for a complete reduction in vine-based damage. If they were to face the Painswick King again, Thrash could practically sit back and watch while the farmer handled it. He sniffed, looking around for a final time while Pierre finished what he was doing. He waited in the far corner of the room by the stairs, ready for Floor Five.

  ‘Right,’ Pierre announced. ‘Yer ready? I’ve mined the room for all its worth now.’

  Thrash nodded, his anger still palpable. He’d certainly taken his frustrations out on the mobs of the dungeon, but his heart was still brimming with repressed fury, and even though he’d muted Una, he kept checking for a reply. He was starting to feel like his own worst enemy. He wished he could just remove the pacifier and deal with his own emotions. He’d managed fine with Zorina and Mary.

  He spat, sending a quick thought in Mush’s direction, the robot having been suspiciously quiet. Did you know about the guild meetings?

  Mush beeped. Brigwell never attended. Brigwell was too strong and powerful for the other Dungeon Masters - they would collapse in his presence.

  Thrash signalled for Pierre to hold on a moment, rubbing his eyes. Mush, did he get invited?

  She beeped again. Yes. However, as a newly ranked dungeon, Mush didn’t expect an invitation to head in your direction.

  Thrash sighed. He could make sense of that. ‘Mush thinks the dungeon is too low a rank for us to have been invited.’

  Pierre sniffed. ‘Yer sure?’

  Mush sounded distant. Mush didn’t say that. Mush said that she didn’t expect an invitation. Not that you are too low a rank.

  Thrash swore again. ‘Why is this so bloody difficult, Mush? Give me a damn straight answer!’

  Mush will not be spoken to as such, man-child, Mush beeped furiously. No breakfast for a week!

  Thrash readied his voice for a colossal shout, but Pierre clapped his shoulders, shaking him slightly and staring into his eyes. The moon shone down upon them both, the felled foliage reflecting some of the light. It was freeing, the crisp nighttime air cooling Thrash’s skin. His pacifier kicked in, his mind slowly emptying.

  ‘Focus, Thrash,’ Pierre ordered. ‘Zorina wants yer dead, right?’

  ‘So what?’ Thrash glowered, shaking the man's hands from his body. ‘It can’t be as much as I want her dead.’

  ‘It ain’t a competition,’ Pierre retorted, almost rolling his eyes. ‘She’s going to do what she can to frustrate yer. Look at yer - it only takes one wrong move for anyone down here to get killed, and she knows that. Stop whining and start focusing - I can’t do this without yer.’

  Thrash stared at him, his anger tickling again. ‘We’ve already finished the quest, we just need one more bone.’

  Pierre shook his head, rubbing some beads of sweat from his neck. ‘Yer too smart to give me an answer like that. If yer can’t see it, I can’t explain it.’

  Thrash felt as though he wanted to cry, averting his eyes and looking around the room. Deep inside, he knew the farmer was right, but he was so sick and tired of being dismissed and ignored. All he wanted to do was find Zorina - and her family - and destroy them. He wanted to ruin their lives and tear their hearts away from them. He wanted to make sure that their legacy was as destroyed as his. As he turned back to Pierre, who’s gaze hadn’t left his, he felt his body heat up.

  ‘I just want them to suffer,’ he said, sighing a breath of honest relief. ‘I need to get them off of my back.’

  Pierre nodded, smiling at him. ‘Then that’s what we’re going to do. Yer have to keep yer head up, Thrash.’

  Thrash stared at the floor, his head pounding. ‘How? She’s untouchable, Pierre. I’ve not a clue how to get close, or how to get her to back off.’

  Pierre pointed toward the steps. ‘I reckon we start there, and think as we go? That seems to suit yer thinking best.’

  Thrash nodded, a thought occuring. Mush, can Zorina see us like Una can?

  Mush is still upset with you, the robot responded. Mush was tempted to destroy your goose.

  It’s hatched? Thrash asked, his excitement flaring.

  No.

  Thrash waited for a moment, Pierre kicking a rotted piece of wood across the ground.

  Nobody can see you like Una can, Mush finally revealed. As your representative, Una has insight into your interface, your history, and most of your thoughts.

  Can you block her? Thrash asked. He wasn’t best pleased with the latter insight.

  Unlikely, Mush responded. She controls Mush’s interface. Her access is superior.

  Thrash expected as much. He looked at Pierre, now leaning against the staircase. ‘It all started with Doren,’ he said quietly. ‘And I think he’s going to be our way out.’

  Pierre clapped his back again, Thrash having to step forwards to find his balance before falling. ‘There yer go. What did I tell yer? One small thought can lead to the beginnings of a plan.’

  Thrash smiled softly, some of the frustrations dissipating. Zorina was going to regret getting involved in his dungeon. He was going to do everything he could to make sure of it. His interface finally dinged.

  1 second ago: Una: Stop with the tone, Thrash - I’m only ever here to help. We reached out to the guild, but have yet to receive an answer. Technically, they have no obligation to respond, though we are looking further.

  1 second ago: Una: I don’t like where you’re heading with Zorina and Doren. Keep your head down, you’re doing just fine by sticking to the rules.

  Thrash’s grin grew wider. He looked at Pierre. ‘Una doesn’t like us talking like this. It seems you might be onto something. Let's hit floor five and go from there, shall we?’

  Pierre grinned wickedly. ‘There’s yer famous smile. I’m with yer.’

  Thrash put his hand against the staircase, Mush beeping at him. There is nothing famous about ‘yer’ smile. Pathetic.

  10 followers and I'd love to reach 20!

  Remember, I will be taking a week off. Thank you!

  Stats:

  Inventory - Equipped Gear Only:

  Skills and Titles:

  Additional Benefits

  Dungeon Benefits

  - Enhanced Rest: Experience a 20% increase in base health, strength, and intelligence after resting in a bedroom.

  - Improved Comfort: Gain a 20% boost to charisma when hosting guests.

  Spells:

  Sigrid Skills: