The Collector first spoke to the elder.

"Tell me of the mechanics involved within ownership transferal regarding these lairs known as 'dungeons," said the Collector. "Specifically in regards to geographic proximity. What occurs when my physical presence exceeds the boundaries required for ownership?"

The elder cocked his head and thought about this question for a lingering second. "It is rare that any would ever give up the worthy title of a dungeon boss, for with it, one grows closer to the world's breathing.

But, yes, there have been such cases. Once, a terrible beast from afar, a creature that once was the familiar of a mighty sorcerer, was set loose upon this land, and it devoured all in its midst, toppling boss after boss, and, when it reached the edges of this land, made its way back to defeat again the creatures that took up the dungeons in its absence."

The Collector read through the lines of the elder's talk. "Then it is simply that when this form exceeds the given range limit of ownership, it will default to any specimen within the dungeon's proximity."

"I believe so, but still, my king," said the elder. He turned around, long ears pricking at the commotion behind him. He waved his hand to the rest of the goblin swarm as they butchered the frostboar corpses, sharing the meat among themselves.

"Never once have I seen our tribe so unified under one purpose. So…together. Three champions have I lived through, and all three were selfish and simple, seeing only but the next meal and how much of it they could take, letting the children and others starve to sate themselves.

But you, my king, you hold no such lowly views. You see beyond, to a far greater vision, obtaining power far beyond us. This, I understand. Yet, I must implore you, will you not claim this dungeon as yours and grant our people the warmth and lands they have long so desired?"

"I cannot be limited by any geographical restrictions," said the Collector. "For my purpose requires extensive amounts of travel. Yet, I sense from your mannerisms that simply yielding this dungeon to nature will be cause of some discord among your social unit.

This, I will remedy."

The Collector pointed at Bolg. "You shall remain here with a contingent of ten champions. The dungeon's mana flow naturally will proceed to the specimen with the highest mana capacity, and that shall be you. You will become the new 'boss'."

"I…I feel great honor," said Bolg.

"Stand," said the Collector, and Bolg did so.

The Collector punched its hand into Bolg's chest. The carrier unit elite and elder did not flinch, for they were now used to this process of evolution.

Bolg himself held back his pain and instead nodded in acceptance.

The Collector utilized Higher Calling, imparting a modification into the champion's biology directly into his heart. Red and black energy glowed from within the champion's chest, shining through his pale white skin for a few seconds before the Collector withdrew a blood-soaked hand.

The Collector flicked its hand, slicking the blood off to the ground as it watched as Bolg's chest wound closed up. Bolg bent over at the waist with a deep breath, as if the wind had been knocked out of him, and then, the back of his bald head started to split apart with a single bloody laceration.

From the cut emerged two black tendrils intertwined around each other. They dropped from Bolg's head and hung like a dreadlock of hair, though their slight wriggling indicated otherwise.

"The greater influx of magical energy your core will receive from the dungeon will no doubt influence your physiology. The Grizzled Stormbear too had gained additional muscle mass and magical energy capacity with extended exposure to this dungeon environment.

However, I cannot wait to reap those benefits, nor are they appreciable enough to consider in favor of metamorphosis. Yet, they will prove greatly useful to you, a lesser specimen."

The Collector assessed the champion's current physique and analyzed his level of magical energy.

"Your current form lacks the potential to evolve. Thus, I have ushered in modifications to your physiology, priming your body for evolution with these tendrils that will funnel greater amounts of mana through your body to nourish it.

When you have undergone sufficient exposure in this environment and bathed in its magical energy, there is likely potential for your ascension into an elite variant."

"An elite? Like Thokk?" Bolg stared up at the carrier unit elite, and thus, the Collector came to learn the elite's name.

"Presuming you are capable of surviving during my absence," said the Collector. "To ensure as such, the ten champions I leave shall be under your command and function as your guard. The tendrils sprouting from your rear cranium will also allow you greater psionic access to me in the same manner applicable to the carrier unit.

Ensure you do not stray outwards from the dungeon for long, for without its support, you will grow feeble due to many of your roots now being portioned for absorption, not output."

"I understand, king," said Bolg. He smiled up at Thokk. "Soon, I become strong as you, maybe even stronger!"

"Hah, no chance!" said Thokk as he flexed his four arms. "But if you want a challenge, I always up for it."

"Soon, brother," said Thokk as he held out a hand, and Bolg grabbed it in firm and friendly gesture.

"Choose among yourselves which of the ten champions will guard you," said the Collector. "And return to the swarm. I will continue to assess my future actions with the elder."

"As you wish, my king," said the elite unit with a bow.

"Got it," said Bolg with a deep and grateful nod.

"If I may, my king," said the elder.

"Proceed," said the Collector.

"Will you not consider simply allowing the women to remain? The children you have ascended, though now much larger and mightier, are still not yet mature. It will be best for them to stay here, where it is warmer and safer with a mighty elite to guard them."

"The female specimen themselves are sufficiently strong enough to contend with the males," said the Collector.

"Yes, tis' true, yet, I suppose it is principle. The men will go to battle and the hunt, the women will tend to the young and the forage."

"True," said Bolg before he checked himself and bowed to the Collector. "No disagree with you, king."

"Women are strong. They can fight too," said Thokk.

The Collector calculated the cost of allowing all the female and children to remain. If it replaced the ten guards with all the female and young, then it would lose a net five additional champion specimen. It was willing to sacrifice that number to prevent any potential discord among this social unit.

"It shall be so," said the Collector. It faced Bolg. "Instead of ten guards, the female and young specimens will guard you."

Then, the Collector faced the elder and said, "Will this be sufficient to quell discord among your kind? I know little of customs of tinkering land ownership, but I presume this shall be enough to sate any primal desire for territory and account for this concept known as 'tradition.'"

"Yes, with the women and children warm, the men will fight with cleare minds. Our ways have changed much since you must have reigned, my king, I know, and to you, they may seem so simple, but these are the ways that have developed over the centuries," said the elder. "I am sorry for burdening them upon you."

The Collector clicked the mandibles of its main skull, and the elder hastened to correct himself.

"Ah, there must be no apologies, yes, only betterment," said the elder.

The Collector spoke to Bolg and Thokk. "You are no longer required. Tend to the swarm and their needs."

Bolg and Thokk left after their formal departures, leaving but the Collector and the elder.

The Collector assessed its decisions. This champion unit, 'Bolg' as he was called, would remain here, and when ownership of the dungeon transferred to him, quite likely evolve into an elite after some time. By staying within the dungeon, the Collector could also establish a greater link to the unit's mind via the tendrils.

The Collector could not sustain such a link with the other specimens, but with Bolg, fueled by the dungeon's regenerative properties, it was possible to maintain a high performance, sustained link that would allow the Collector to see through Bolg's eyes and sense the dungeon's surroundings.

Like this, the Collector could place sentry points through every dungeon, increasing its map of awareness greatly. In a sense, it was greatly similar to the hivemind procedure of the Collective where every single unit, connected to the greater Hivemind, was an extension of the Hivemind's eyes and ears, thus ensuring that even the lowliest of drones was a deadly threat whose death would never go unnoticed.

In time, if the Collector amassed even greater forces, incorporating the remaining few goblin tribes in the area as well, then it could conceivably possess quite the extensive surveillance network.