Ellen pushed her damp hair back, again, as she looked down at the blank sheet of paper that would become her report.

With a sigh and a frown, she leaned back, wincing in discomfort.

The Watchers had recruited her before she'd even taken a path, and she'd reincarnated again, and again, and again. She'd been shepherded twice before, once by the merchant parents of freshers and once by the retainers of a minor noble house.

Being shepherded by Bob was an entirely different experience.

He'd called it a light day, or a short day, and told the group that tomorrow he'd have time to really work with them.

Ellen repressed a shudder.

She was certain that she was going to hear his voice in her dreams tonight.

With only a day and a half spent in Holmstead, she could hardly be certain, but she leaned towards there being no cultists here.

Everyone was as friendly and open as their natures dictated, and nearly everyone had the "Lighting the Path" divine blessing from Vi'Radia.

Bob, she thought, might just be your run-of-the-mill sadist.

For all the yelling and his stones cursed rules, he was an effective and attentive shepherd; she conceded as she pondered the odd man.

He'd told them how to fight with the clubs he summoned for them, and then he'd allowed them to make mistakes, then showed them how to learn from them.

Running her hands through her damp hair, she stood up and walked over to the bathtub, and turned the water back on.

Her muscles ached from swinging that club for two hours, and she clearly wasn't going to get anything done with her report yet.

As she watched the tub fill with water, she considered that the most important thing she'd discovered about Holmstead was that the Curator was Thidwell Orstang, and he'd rebuilt the Dungeon using the same techniques his father had pioneered in Harbordeep.

That had been a shock.

She knew that most Dungeons in these outlying towns were dig and drop affairs, or if their curator was especially skilled and ambitious, central shaft and tunnel.

Holmstead, with its mere two thousand residents, had a Gated Dungeon. What's more, it was thirty-four floors.

There were so few people using it that there wasn't a schedule. You just logged your delve with the priest on watch.

Ellen shook her head.

The absurd requirements and fees to delve into the Dungeon in Harbordeep were a hardship for the commoners of the city.

Once the freshers he was shepherding returned home, she suspected that Holmstead was going to receive an ever-increasing number of young people looking to gain their paths without draining their parent's funds.

She turned off the water and sank into the tub with a relieved sigh as the heat penetrated her sore muscles.

The Church might even consider sending initiates here.

Bob rolled his shoulders and considered that carrying around a nearly fifty-pound cat wasn't likely doing his back any favors.

He reached up and rubbed Monroe's cheeks, causing the big Maine-Coone to close his eyes and start to purr.

"Good afternoon," Bob greeted Austan with a smile.

"Welcome back," Austan grinned in return, "and this time without a herd of kids following you."

"Time for me to delve for some crystals of my own," Bob said, "I'll be heading down to the twenty-eighth floor."

"How long do you expect you'll be down there for?" Austan asked.

"Two hours," Bob replied with a grimace, "I'll need to work out a rotation for the freshers so that I can delve on my own every day."

Austan pulled out his ledger and marked down Bob's delve.

Snapping the book shut and replacing it in his satchel, Austan said, "Why not just do four hours a day, each group taking a turn?"

"I was hoping to have them pathed and delving on their own sooner rather than later," Bob said, "four hours every three days will trend towards later."

Austan shrugged, his smile gentle as he responded, "I have faith that you'll find your way."

"I'll see you in a few hours," Bob said and headed towards the Gateway, where he placed his token against it, mentally projected twenty-eight, and walked through the event horizon.

Bob looked around the twenty-eighth floor, surprised to see that it was another forest biome. Thidwell had said that the monsters here were teleporting beetles, and he'd always associate monstrous beetles with the first floor, with its worked stone hallways.

This was an old-growth forest with multiple canopies. The ground underfoot was a sea of moss, with occasional patches of ferns, all overlaying the ground, and what was likely, by their shapes, boulders, and fallen trees.

It was damp, with a light breeze and a light mist that did little to obstruct his vision.

Bob took a deep breath, savoring the clean air.

He brought out a concentration based fully powered UtahRaptor and had it advance, walking silently on the bed of moss.

A savage smile twisted Bob's face as he watched Jake stalk forward, its lithe form light on its feet despite its weight.

Somehow the muted oranges and reds of its plumage blended into the forest, and he marveled at the primal predator.

He was pulled from his appreciation as Jake was suddenly attacked by an eight-foot-long, four-foot-tall beetle, its carapace a dull brown with green streaks, allowing it to blend in perfectly with the ground.

The monster rose from the ground and lunged forward, its massive pincers clacking as it scored a light gash on the UtahRaptor's flank, Jake having twisted away at the last second.

With an enraged cry, Jake gave a short dashing hop, landing with both legs atop the beetle's back, raking down his enemy's carapace with his terrible scythe-like claw.

The carapace proved no match for the UtahRaptor's might, and yellow fluid gushed from the rent as the beetle went mad. It snapped and twisted but wasn't able to shift Jake.

As Jake was about to deliver another blow, there was a slight pop of displaced air, and the beetle disappeared.

Bob immediately spotted the beetle as it plummeted down from ten feet above his UtahRaptor, and he watched as his summoned mana-infused creature dodged the charge, taking another slash on its tail, before delivering a vicious kick that tore open another wicked gaping wound, this time to the beetle's side.

Jake had finished it off and then dipping its head into the open rent on the beetle's back and choking down a mouthful of viscera as it sounded the peculiar chirping sound that was its victory cry.

"Teleporting beetles," Bob said thoughtfully.

It hadn't posed any significant threat to his UtahRaptor, but then again, his UtahRaptor was level forty-nine. And he had the melee skill now.

Summon: UtahRaptor(Jake) Tier: 5 Size: 5 Level: 49 Weapon Hardness: 138.24 Hide hardness: 127.44 Strength: 334 Mana: 237 Armor: 2088 Coordination: 334 Stamina: 721 Claw Damage: 7347 Endurance: 224 Health: 26138 Bite Damage: 7139 Intelligence: 110 Movement: 1473 Wisdom: 110 Dodge 1654 Fleetness 2 Beauty: 116 Summoning Mastery 2.16 Caster Value / 2 256 Arcane Familiar Bonus 0.16 Natural Attack 2 Abjuration Affinity Dimensional Affinity Natural Armor 2 Reinforce Armor Disruptive Strike Dodge 2 Eldritch Shield Flight Toughness 1.1 Teleport Melee 2

Bob was kicking himself for not having had the melee skill before.

Still, he suspected that he'd be able to use effect over time raptors on this floor of the Dungeon to great effect.

Bob pushed mana into an effect over time Mana Sight spell and took a moment to appreciate the ethereal beauty of the forest as mana slowly drifted down from the canopy, like a light rain, before flowing into silvery streams and then into pools. Focusing on the pools, Bob saw a cluster of five of them a hundred feet from the gate.

He started summoning effect over time UtahRaptors as he walked towards his new hunting grounds.

Bailli ran her fingers through Erick's hair as they relaxed against the stone bench in the hot spring.

"I'm glad you're finally home," she murmured.

"So am I," he squeezed her close to his side with one arm, "I missed you."

"But I have to say, I was awfully surprised to be ambushed by an air elemental when I arrived," Erick said with a grin as he looked over at Bailli.

Bailli smiled as she retorted, "I was out for a morning flight, and what did I see? My fiance headed home a month early!"

"What would you expect me to do?" she finished with a chuckle.

"I think it was the air elemental bit that threw me," Erick admitted, "We'd talked about your path, but it didn't include anything that would allow you to turn into an elemental."

"Well," Bailli shrugged, "after Bob and Thidwell found out how to use Affinity Crystals, Bob figured out a better path."

"I'm going to need a little bit more than just that," Erick said as he shook his head, "for starters, what in Vi'Radia's name is an Affinity Crystal?"

Thidwell was waiting at his desk, drumming his fingers against the surface.

There wasn't a good way to get around the Geas. He knew it wasn't as restrictive as it could be, but it was well worded enough that neither he nor his father had managed to bypass it.

It hadn't really bothered him. He had wanted to share it with Calder when his father first passed it down to him, but Calder had done well enough without it.

It was so circumstantial, really.

But then Bob had come along, revealing the truth about the Affinity Crystals and the paths you could take if you had them. Bob had laid it out for him, clearly showing him that his world didn't need to be constantly, desperately even, teetering on the edge of annihilation.

He had been tempted to offer Bob the Geas. Having gained a better measure of the man, Thidwell knew that Bob wouldn't have ever accepted it.

Bob had an uncanny knack for sussing things out. Maybe, just maybe, Thidwell could turn that inquisitive nature towards this.

He'd asked that Bob be sent up to see him once he entered the tavern. Bob had spent six hours shepherding his three groups and then had set himself up for a two-hour delve.

Assuming he wasn't going to take his meal at home, Thidwell expected him to be along shortly.

Bob's obvious relief upon returning to Holmstead had pleased him. When the man had built a home above Holmstead, he'd been certain that Bob was here to stay, but the confirmation was nice to have.

As the Dungeon deepened, Thidwell expected more and more Affinity Crystals of different types to be found, and he was counting on Bob to provide a path for each one.

His hands clenched into a fist as he contemplated the six Affinity Crystals in his desk. The Path of the Patient Warden. He could taste the power; it was so close.

He needed that power if he was going to stay ahead.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts as Bob walked into the room, his huge cat draped across his shoulders.

"You have Mana Sight and Mana Shaping?" Thidwell asked roughly.

"Yes," Bob responded, "Wh-"

Thidwell cut him off with a raised finger.

He needed the man's attention fully focused.

Thidwell waited.

Bob waited.

Bob frowned, then with a shrug, the color fled from his eyes, replaced by the silvery hue of mana.

Thidwell smiled grimly and cast a persistent effect Mana Shaping, reaching not for the mana that hung like motes of dust in the air around him but rather for the mana inside his matrix.

He pushed the mana out, forming the skill his ancestors had long ago discovered and locked away behind a Geas.

Thidwall saw Bob's eyes move as he witnessed the spell.

Thidwell dropped the effect and cast it again.

He did so three more times before gesturing for Bob to leave.

Hopefully, Bob would understand the meaning behind the unspoken display. It was as far as the Geas would allow him to go.

'Trebor,' Bob mentally projected as he leaned on the wall at the bottom of the stairs that led up to Thidwells office, 'What was that?'

'That,' Trebor replied calmly, 'was Thidwell demonstrating an advanced application of Mana Shaping.'

Bob resisted the temptation to rub his temples.

Trebor wasn't being deliberately obtuse; he was just... a really bad search engine.

Thidwell was... well, Thidwell.

'I think I understood what he was doing,' Bob projected slowly, 'he was shaping his own mana into a bubble, right?'

'Correct,' Trebor said, 'rather than shaping the mana around him, he was shaping his own.'

'To what end?' Bob projected, giving in to the urge to rub his temples.

'Mana Shaping your own mana into a shield around you will reduce the effects of increased mana density.' Trebor stated.

Bob considered that for a moment.

'Are you saying that by casting a persistent effect Mana Shaping, targeting my own mana, I can increase the amount of time I can spend in the Dungeon? Is that how Thidwell does it without going insane and stroking out?' Bob demanded.

'Yes,' Trebor replied.

'Why didn't he just tell...' Bob trailed off, his eyes narrowing.

'He's under a Geas, isn't he,' Bob projected sharply.

'I'm not able to provide you with that information,' Trebor responded flatly.

"No need," Bob muttered out loud as he glanced back up the stairs.

"I'm going to ask you exactly how this works," Bob mumbled, "but not until after I have dinner with my friends."