In the light of day, the Guildmaster and his right-hand man examine the scene folding out before them. The night before, a pack of intruders had stormed the Dungeon. Despite activating the alarm cantrip, summoning a Guardian Gargoyle, the intruders had forced their way through the Guardian and into the Dungeon. Now, that self-same Gargoyle is lashing out at the Guild’s army.

With wild swings, the black-flame clad Gargoyle strikes out at the interlocking shields surrounding it with dual axes. With each swing, it sprays the flame aura about. Dozens of Adventurers, both Awakened and Natives keep the creature contained. The black flames stick to every surface they encounter and spread like an invasive weed. One by one soldiers, covered in black flames, fall back and are replaced by fresh reinforcements. With methodical movements, the soldiers peel off their armor and put it in a pile. A dedicated cadre of mages works together to extinguish the flames on the armor. Earlier in the struggle, they had discovered that the flame covering the Gargoyle is a mind-altering magic. A decent portion of their forces were quarantined once affected. After studying the flames and recieving some helpful tips from the Guildmaster, they learned how to contain it.

“What do you make of it?” the Guildmaster’s right-hand man strokes his thick black beard as he watches the gargoyle leap off the ground with flapping wings to avoid a thrown net.

The Guildmaster and Quinn's husband had been standing there for quite some time, watching the ‘battle’ below. The soldiers have strict orders to not kill the creature, so it can’t quite be described as a true battle. It is more of a test, really. A careful process putting that dark flame through its paces.

“It is a peculiar spell. As far as I can decipher, it is a parasitic debuff that controls its victims by inducing overwhelming anger. Once the victim gives over to the anger, the spell takes control of their actions. The debuff seems to lower the victims power level to the level of the castor, which is why the Gargoyle is so fragile right now. What makes it so interesting is that it can survive beyond its first casting by feeding off the negative emotions of the host body.” The Guildmaster casually waves his finery laden fingers about as he breaks down the inner workings of Legion.

“How much of a threat is it?” the bearded man’s eyes narrow, bringing an aura of intensity over him. This intensity doesn’t seem out of place on the handsome, dark featured man. His well-groomed features exhibits an elegant charm to the casual observer. However, the intensity in his eyes brings out a more primal sense of attraction to those around him. It is the magnetism that only those who are truly powerful exhibit. The charisma of the strong.

“To you? No threat at all,” The Guildmaster rubs his large belly absentmindedly. Now that the mystery is solved, he is quite bored. To him the spell is quite a low level one, despite its peculiarities. With his vast library of magical knowledge, pilfered from those who came before him, most spells seem low levelled. “The spell chips away at the defenses of the victim quite slowly, making it more suited for endurance battles with unprepared or overconfident foes. However, like all flames it can’t burn without a fuel source. I gave the so-called 'mages' down there a less than efficient way to fight the flames. For my illustrious executioner, a simple, modified [Extinguish] should do the trick.”

“Did you see anything in the recording from that night I should know of?” Quinn’s husband continues to question the Guildmaster. As a Truthseeker he knows better than anyone that the smallest of details can make a significant difference.

“You’re familiar with Quinn’s abilities, so that shouldn’t be an issue. Snowflake is a spear and shield fighter with an emphasis on ice magic. I’d wager he has a few tricks up his sleeve if this debuff spell is anything to go by. Also, you would do well to watch out for his familiars,” the Guildmaster looks up and to the side as he recalls details from the brief fight. The cantrip the intruders activated not only summoned a Guardian, but also recorded the events following the activation. “One of them single-handedly kept the Gargoyle off balance with a conbination of strength and wit. The other looked like a shapeshifter with an understanding of kinetic magic. I'm not familiar with either species.”

“Thank you for your advice,” the man taps a finger on his chin, pondering something. “Before I go, where do this Honey and Mordai frequent?”

“Check the bars and training grounds, but be sure to leave them sound in both body and mind. Honey is an up and coming melee fighter and Mordai has potential as a healer,” the Guildmaster says with a firm voice, his boredom forgotten. “We are not so powerful that we can afford to waste promising seedlings. We have peace now, but there is a storm brewing.”

“Don’t worry,” the man’s face breaks into a charming grin, the whiteness of his teeth made more apparent by the darkness of his beard. “There is more than one way to find the truth.”

***

After the tenth level, the Dungeon becomes… much stranger. I mean, they told me, but still. I wasn’t expecting this. It’s just so… Vast. It is huge. Like nothing I’ve seen before. According to Quinn this is the combination of levels eleven through twenty, but it’s hard to wrap my head around it. It’s like a whole new world.

The sky stretches endlessly. It stretches higher and further than I thought possible. It makes me think of some sort of cosmic cathedral. Billowing white clouds shaped like abstract depictions of castles drift along the winds, painting the murals on the ceiling of my metaphorical cathedral. Despite being so far in the sky, I can tell that the clouds are huge. How can I tell? Well there is this thing called comparative size. The castle like clouds are bigger than the mountain I’m standing on. This mountain is gigantic.

Well, gigantic compared to me and the mountains I’m used to. Compared to the surrounding mountains it’s about average. This particular mountain is no one in a million. It is however, one of a million. Okay, maybe not a million. But a hell of a lot. Just like the sky stretching in all directions, the mountains stretch in all directions as well. Like the clouds floating on the wind, the mountains are also moving.

I didn’t notice at first, but there they are. Shuffling about like a… herd? Flock? I don’t know the proper term for groups of living mountains. Range? I mean, I’m assuming they are living because they are shuffling about like slow moving cows. REALLY slow moving. Glacial isn’t the right word because the movement is noticeable, but they are still slow. Or maybe they are a decent speed but look slow because they are so massive? Hmmm… They are tall and craggy. It reminds me of the top of a forest, but with mountains instead of trees. Mountains so tall and packed together that I can't see the bases. The sun beats down, shining on the sheer cliffs between the mountains. Despite the illumination, the shadows create an abyssal looking darkness thousands of feet below.

Quinn and I are keeping a lookout while Kandra and Nevasca dig a cave into the side of a craggy cliff. Sweat drips down my back, reminding me how hot it is here. The foliage on these mountains is sparse at best. I’m guessing that is the heat’s fault. On the bright side, the deep, dark chasms between mountains looks nice and cool.

“Quinn,” I whisper. “What’s the plan?”

“Shhh, pay attention.” She hisses.

“I don’t even know what I’m looking for!” I whine, in a manly way.

Okay. Maybe the relentless heat coming from the sun is getting to me. Or maybe I'm just a whiny asshole. There is no real way to know.

“Any movement in the sky or mountains, even the smallest speck, could be an enemy. With just the two of us we have to be extra careful.”

I feel disgruntled, but I do what she says. Ever since my latest evolution, I get irritated whenever someone tells me what to do. I don't like it. It is an involuntary response that could get me killed. From the description of the Lesser Tyrant Empathia racial background information, it seems like they are used to being biggest and baddest around. Unfortunately, I don’t have that luxury. Arrogance is an extravagance for the strong.

Someday I’ll be strong enough to ignore the advice and wisdom of those stronger and more experience than me. Someday, but not today. Survival first, being an asshole second.

Quinn grips my arm, her strong finger digging into my flesh. Her other hand points, leading my attention to a creature perched on a mountain face across from us. The creature looks like a weird unicorn. Not that I’ve ever seen a normal unicorn. They were extinct in my world.

With graceful movements, the cloven hooved creature scales the sheer cliff with ease. Its singular horn is stained red with old blood, the remnants of a battle. A battle or a hunt. I don't know what it eats. I’d hate to fight the thing though, vegetarian or not. It looks like someone mixed an overly muscled warhorse and a goat, then strapped a sword to its head. Mean looking fucker.

Near the top of the cliff, the unicorn pauses. Suddenly it grows still. Its thick corded muscles bunch up and shift, pressing tight against its skin. The power packed in its frame is obvious, even from this distance.

Behind us, my familiars have completed a semi-deep cave, but are working their way further in, chipping away at the stone. The unicorn’s ears twithes as its head swings back and forth, looking for the source of the sound. Alarm bells are going off in my head. Quinn has us hidden with her light magic, but she is getting tired. We need somewhere to rest, hence the cave. This could go badly.

The Unicorn’s ears continue to swivel, but its head stops moving. Its eyes lock focus in our direction. A long spear and great shield of ice materialize out of the small amount of moisture in the air at my command. I have a feeling I’m about to meet a charge.

I push Quinn behind me and prop the heavy great shield on the ground. Kneeling behind it, I brace the butt of my pike on the ground behind me, angling the tip up to catch the large creature in the chest if it charges. I made the pike with a large cross bar behind the spear-head. You now, to keep it from running itself down the length of the shaft and goring me with its big ass horn.

True to my intuition, the unicorn bunches up its legs and leaps off the cliff. Like a meaty comet of death and bearded chin it soars across the chasm between mountains, crossing hundreds of feet in seconds.

Live or die, I foresee a lot of pain in my immediate future.

Okay. I need to slow it down. Ice wall? Slippery ground? Throw projectiles at it? Send Wisp and Legion to slow it down? It’s too fast. I’m running out of time! Do all of it!

I gather up my power to act, but an ear ringing screech breaks my focus. A giant bird swoops down from above and catches the unicorn in mid-air. The bird’s cruel hooked beak grabs the unicorns neck and wrenches it in a spray of blood. In an instant the bird is gone, the huge, muscular unicorn hanging lifeless in its clutches.

“Get inside, quickly. I can’t hold the illusion much longer,” Quinn pants. The strain of hiding us for so long is made obvious by the vein that throbs in her forehead.

I purse my lips and nod. I shouldn’t have let her push herself so far. According to her, most of the caves around here are inhabited by the local dungeon monster population, but still. It might’ve been faster and less effort to just kill a monster and take over its cave instead of building our own, making her hide us the whole time.

With a heavy sigh I usher her into the little cave carved out by my familiars. We duck through the narrow opening and plunge into the darkness. Nevasca’s tails whirl in a circular pattern at the back of the cave, chipping away at the stone. Two of the tails hack away at the walls mercilessly, while the last one gathers the chunks of rock into a pile. Kandra’s face betrays her disgust as she ‘eats’ the rocks. The rocks melt away into nothingness inside of her. It looks like it tastes pretty bad.

Honestly, the cave wouldn’t be that small if it was just me and Kandra. Quinn is mostly tight all over, but her wings take up a lot of space. Not to mention that Nevasca is still growing. She is a big girl now. Almost big enough to ride.

All three of the girls glare at me as I try to stifle my evil laughter.

Nevasca notices us crawling into the cave and ceases her excavation. I send her images instructing her to lay down and take a break. I also mention she is on pillow duty, so she doesn’t freak out when I lay Quinn on her. Nevasca rolls her eyes and plops down at the back of the cave, making a big show so I know how much effort she is going through to please me.

I murmur sweet nothings to an exhausted Quinn, reassuring her I’ll be fine while she sleeps. With Quinn and Nevasca snuggled up together (taking up almost half of the cave), I turn to the entrance.

“Kandra,” I instruct. “Transform into something small and keep a lookout. Be careful. It is dangerous out there.”

“Yes master,” is what she says with her mouth, but her eyes say, ‘Thank god I don’t have to eat fucking rocks anymore.’

You’re welcome.

Kandra slinks out of the cave and I block the entrance with a wall of ice behind her. Small holes in the wall allow air to come in and out. I’m pretty sure they’ll allow Kandra in too.

Given how hot it is outside and the body heat in here, I’ll need to refresh the wall in an hour or so. Gotta remember to do that.

Okay, everything is taken care of. Everyone is alive and safe for now. Time for the fun bit.

Time to see what is in that bag I stole.