The clatter of chitinous legs against stone turned into a rockslide of sound, a tidal wave of auditory assault. The noises were seeming to come from everywhere, but the first of the creatures that I actually saw was behind me. Infuriated that I was running, moreso that it was away from safety, I gathered a blast of force angrily in my palm.

It wasn’t necessary to give it intent, the tunnel wasn’t large enough for me to miss. Which was horrifying. The space behind me was screaming with clicking and strange, ragged breaths. I continued running and instead of turning around, I just faced my hand backwards mid-sprint and let the energy fly off.

Enemy Defeated

You have slain a Chesmite (level 4).

Receive: +4 EP

With a satisfied grunt, I shook the prompt away from my vision and continued on. I hadn’t seen the actual damage caused, but one shot kills were always going to make me smile. Still flying along the tunnels, keeping the short distance between myself and the swarm, I reached inward towards my mana again.

I’d grown accustomed to the sensation of the magic within now. Sometimes it was like the sloshing of a full belly of water, sometimes like the static electricity of pins and needles, but in strange places. Right now it was like the wind, moving through and around me with purpose. I forced the gust of my mana behind me, and cast Hasten for the first time.

The effect was startling. The world seemed to grey, similar to when Dion had frozen everything. The sounds from behind became dull and, turning my head while bounding down a straight path, I could finally see my attackers in full.

A bulbous behind framed their shapes. Six legs, like lances, were churning the rock beneath them with their fervour and strength. They looked like ants, but with much more articulation. Their legs moved like whips while moving, before becoming planted into the rock and then springing them forward. Two large eyes, segmented into dozens, sat behind an awful pair of pincers.

All told, they were a fucking nightmare. In slow-motion, the fear was slightly abated. Only slightly. While the chesmites themselves weren’t enough to freeze my heart, their numbers made it touch and go. Around just 30 feet back in the tunnel, the familiar dark rock disappeared from view under the skittering mass of their grey carapaces.

No more time to waste, though the inspection had probably only taken two seconds, I just ran. There was the smell of fresher air to guide me away from dead ends, and within thirty seconds the sounds had stopped. I did not stop until the end of my spell, and then added another minute of twisting and turning in the tunnels for good measure.

That, I told myself, was absolute insanity. What even is a chesmite? Like a termite but made out of nightmares. I listened carefully, but the roar of the chesmite swarm never emerged. I was suddenly frustrated.

Chased around the tunnels like prey? Was that going to be the norm? This was just unacceptable. I lamented my inability to listen to quest dialogue in video games and told myself to ask Frakko to explain some of the local dangers next time I returned. If I didn’t run into some ridiculous fantasy version of a worm that was made of skulls and melted me with acid, first.

Not willing to manifest that destiny, I tried to get my bearings. The flight from the chesmites had not been ideal, and had gotten me far from my mental map of the tunnels. I had a vague sense of direction, but without markers and with no desire to tread the path I had just used, I would have to make my way by feel.

I marked a new starting point - a scratched approximation of a dead chesmite - and then started off anew. The starting point was a small bubble in the tunnel, but it’s round shape held a natural alcove that I reasoned could be used for sleep if nowhere else suitable could be found.

Thus began a game of mental mapmaking that would take me to exhaustion. With a wider understanding -- I had ranged with my alcoved cave at the focal point - the cave system felt more like an insect mound. It weaved intricately, ascending and descending where it pleased. With an unpleasant thought, I pictured chesmites burrowing through the rock before me, creating new tunnels in search of prey.

Whether the chesmites had created the tangle of tunnels or some other, strange creature, I had no way of knowing. However, I knew I wanted them. I wanted this labyrinth to be mine, all corners of it under my rule. Overlord had been my choice. Not some spellweaver, or demon consortist. Liege.

Looking at my naked form, I sighed and kept looking for prey. A fairer fight than a voracious horde of insects, I hoped. Though no new fights occurred in the hours following the chesmite stampede, it was by no means fruitless wandering. Not only did I reconnect with my earlier path, giving me a route back to my lair, I also found a new trail.

Without a second of thought, I followed the new scent. A smoked and spiced aroma floated through the rocky pathways. With each step, the smell grew stronger and stronger until I was salivating at the idea of the feast awaiting me.

Then, finally, I froze and thought for a second. I may feel like a king at times, but there was definitely no feast being prepared in some far flung cavern. Not for me, in any case. If it wasn’t a trap, it was something brave enough or foolish enough to be unworried in these dangerous tunnels.

With a slower pace, I crept closer. Now suspicious, I was now looking for the trap. As I closed in on the source, more smells mixed in. Acrid smoke, though not a woody scent. Sounds started to permeate the air. Somewhat… familiar sounds. Laughter, followed by quick admonishment in the form of shushing.

It sounded like a campfire. It smelled like a campfire. The shadows that danced on the walls near my opening were humanoid.

I finally peeked my eyes around the opening, locking them on the group before me.

A cooking fire, not fueled by fire but floating in the air. Blonde, blonde, brunette, black and blonde. Furs and leathers. Weapons. The glint of magic all over the forms, my Display alighting on dozens of magical items. Tanned skin on some, pale skin on others, all of it soft. Three male, two female. Non-human? Easy confidence, an assured nature of success to them.

It was a group of adventurers. I ducked back, heart beating hard.

The band looked experienced. The amount of magical items, the lackadaisical lack of worry. I waited, no longer sure that making a noise would be survivable.

“Reda derach, Godvong.” A voice, deep and with a drawl, lifted over to me. As with the goblins, I knew that it would take little effort on my part to start understanding what they were saying. After another sentence, the words started to make sense.

“There’s not a lot of danger.” The deep voice, finally translated, was still speaking. “That don’t mean we should be making a fuss, now.” The accent reminded me of cowboys and oil fields, it plodded along at a trot.

“It’s not making a fuss to laugh at a joke, Dunnar.” This new speaker, also male, had an air of nobility to their accent. I wondered if that carried over in this new world. It was possible that the proper annunciation was a sign of servitude in this strange place, for all I knew. “And also,” they continued, “don’t ever tell me what to do again.”

Never mind, definitely on the money.

“My apologies, master Hadonis. Won’t happen again.” Without any derision, the deeper voiced speaker acquiesced.

The babble continued as the party finished preparing whatever that decadent meal was. Deciding that they would be distracted enough when they started eating, I prepared to bolt at the nearest opportunity. It’s not a retreat when you haven't started fighting yet, I thought, massaging my ego as I fled the third fight in two days.

My experience in learning how the goblins functioned had cautioned me on wanton violence. The humanoids were definitely looking for a fight, the glint of weaponry still tugging on my greed, but it didn’t have to be me. Caution being the better part of valor, I simply slotted my new language away and tried to put distance between myself and the group.

There was a real melting pot situation going on in this cave system, I lamented. It was pure chaos, within only five miles around my lair and the goblins I had run into both humanoids and insects. Not to mention that my mother, Byzametiya, was in that range too.

Worrying about the ecology was worth doing, but it wouldn’t change the situation. I needed to find a way to get stronger. I had an idea, but it involved letting myself be chased by chesmites again, and I was hoping that something new might turn up. Those bugs were seriously creepy. However they were also seemingly easy to kill, and taking out that swarm would have likely been enough to improve my attributes.

I kept on ranging, filling in my mental map of the underground maze. I definitely didn’t have the capacity for it that I do now, so I thanked my lizard brain for my new cartography skills. I pulled some food and water from my inventory and ate the jerky while I cleared more fog of war.

With my larger understanding of the tunnels, I decided I had cleared two zones. The goblin zone was successfully conquered, the chesmite one was not. I didn’t know what zone I would place the humans in, but I felt they were more of a wildcard than anything else. They definitely weren’t living down here.

The only other zone I had no knowledge of was the sprawling city I had seen before. It must still be miles away, and I expected that I would know I was getting close as I neared it.

Still, as I wandered and familiarised myself, I found an enjoyable peace in the quiet. Bored as I was becoming, it was nice to have some time alone with my thoughts. I certainly had a lot to think about, and I was finding it hard to focus, so I made my way back to my alcove. It would still take the better part of two or three hours to return to my lair, and that journey was potentially treacherous, so I slept on the hard ground instead of my big, hopefully less smelly bed.

Actually, giving the goblins time to work on soap was probably the right call. I convinced myself that sleeping here was better for now, and then dozed away with thoughts of a sparkling clean home to return to.

The next few hours were as restful a time as can be had in an unsecured location. Knowing that humanoids and insects alike were prowling had me sleeping with one eye open, but the rest was welcome all the same.

It wasn’t until my third or fourth hour of sleep that the alarm started going off.

A red text box appeared in my vision and after reading it’s contents, the rest of my vision went the same shade of crimson.

Lair Assaulted

Your lair is under attack by a creature or creatures

I sprang into action, smacking my head off the alcove’s ceiling. Beginning my sprint before the tears had finished forming, I took off. I infused my body with haste, and tore through the tunnels to my lair and my goblins. You couldn’t attack my lair without attacking them. I finally allowed the prompt to drop from my display, and looked at the next that had appeared.

Quest: This is my house.

The first trial of a leader often comes from outside. How you respond to this attack will determine your position in this world.

Reward: Unknown

I snarled, though I was happy to see the quest, and by extension the reward.

Enough running through tunnels, enough worrying about whether prey is prey or not.

My property, and by extension me, is under assault. I would show whoever it was how foolish they were to attack me.