Cursing under his breath, Augustus stomped through the maze of a dungeon. The ache in his groin should have been only a memory, but he could definitely still feel it, whatever his treacherous health bar said. Getting lost in such a low level dungeon was actually kind of embarrassing for an adventurer of his level, which only added to his irritation. He had never been particularly good at navigation; Jeraska had always been there to take over that part of their group’s responsibilities. When he caught up to the crazy dryad, he planned on asking her some very pointed questions. As in at the end of his blade.

  

  Warning: The Bramble Den Dungeon has been irrevocably compromised and is beginning to collapse. Exit the dungeon as swiftly as possible.

  Augustus stared at the screen without comprehension for a moment, before his adventurer’s reflexes kicked in and he began running. Staying still was almost never the best option for survival. “What in the name of the Nine is going on here?!” he asked the disturbed night around him as the whole place seemed to shake and shiver.

  

  Notice: A new Dungeon Lord has risen. This dungeon will undergo a period of instability while it is remade according to the Dungeon Lord’s will. Exit the dungeon as swiftly as possible, or you will be removed from it after a short period of time.

  Horror filled Augustus. Dungeon Lords were a known phenomenon, even if they were fairly uncommon. Occurring in numerous dungeons throughout the lands, they differed greatly from each other, but they were all exceedingly dangerous. Most adventurers treated dungeons with Dungeon Lords as being several tiers higher than their stated levels, and for good reason. A Dungeon Lord could actively direct the traps and monsters in a dungeon, increasing their deadliness, and they were themselves powerhouses that were stronger even than named bosses. He had never heard of a Dungeon Lord in any dungeon under Rank E, which could mean that a powerful monster over level 100 might be inhabiting this area soon.

  “Oh we are soooo screwed if that happens…” he whispered with wide eyes, and began running even faster. He had no idea where he was at the moment, but he had to get somewhere else. The walls of bramble shifted and swayed, and he was forced to dodge collapsing paths and dart through new openings multiple times, even hacking his way through with powerful strikes at times. Being a much higher level than the dungeon had its perks, and he hacked and slashed his way through with only minimal resistance.

  After a minute or two of frantic progress, he heard raised voices coming from off to one side, and quickly turned towards them, activating one of his sword skills to carve a man sized hole through a wall with the temerity to be in his way. Leaping through, he found a young swordsman attempting to help an even younger priestess to her feet while arguing with some sort of elemental. At Augustus’s entrance, they both turned towards him, raising sword and staff defensively.

  “I’m another adventurer.” he stated firmly, “There’s no time to waste, we must leave with all haste. This looks like the boss area, so there must be an exit nearby. I can carry your friend if you like?” The young man relaxed somewhat, but remained guarded. Augustus approved of the caution in general, but now was not the time. “My name is Rheagan, but there is one more who was with us. You didn’t happen to see anyone else on your way here did you?”

  Augustus shook his head. “I also lost someone who came in with me, but I haven’t seen anyone on the way here, no. There simply isn’t time though, if we are here when the Dungeon Lord comes, we are all dead. I’m afraid if your friend is lost they will have to make their own way out.” He carefully didn’t say that they were either already dead or unlikely to survive. To his credit, the other man seemed to understand the implication, and his face fell slightly before he schooled his features. “Sibil?” he asked the priestess he was helping, and she nodded. “My god will protect or avenge me as he sees fit.” Augustus had never stopped moving, and was at her side with another step. Scooping up the young lady in his strong arms, the four of them made for the exit on the other side of the clearing as the dungeon continued to creak and groan all around them.

  —---------------------------------------

  Sitting in a darkened studio, Xander held the clay in his hands, letting it warm and soften as he molded it back and forth. It was dark outside, and he was alone, but that was more than okay with him. He didn’t mind solitude, especially when making art. Some of his fellow students preferred digital mediums for their works, but he had always had a soft spot for something he could actually get his hands on, whether it be painting, wood carving, sculpturing with bits of assorted materials, or even collaging.

  The night was peaceful, and the lights of the studio were low, with an overhead lamp providing illumination on his workspace as he began to press the clay into the shapes that he wanted. His assignment had been to create a diorama, and it was very important since it was to be the majority of his final grade. He couldn’t remember exactly why, but things had been difficult and frustrating recently, but this… this was something that he enjoyed doing.

  Xander leaned in closer to the skeletal figure taking form in his hands. There was just something about bones that spoke to him. They were enduringly strong, lasting millennia under the right conditions, and they were the core of people and animals alike. Besides that, they were also just plain badass and cool. He didn’t want to make only humanoid skeletons though, that seemed sort of boring. He had made a few of those, but this new creation would be the centerpiece. Three ribcages were connected by an elongated spine with spiked vertebrae, and there was a skull on both ends. A pair of triple segmented limbs was attached to each ribcage and all six of them ended in long, wickedly curved bone blades.

  He grinned to himself as he placed the sculpture next to the other figures, but then paused as he considered them. There was something missing. The skeletal beings were cool, but they didn’t feel complete for some reason. Xander sat and contemplated them for a time, before realizing that they didn’t feel complete because there was nothing giving them life. How could bones move on their own? And maybe they could use a splash of color too, something to provide contrast to the starkness of the landscape and skeletons. Reaching for more colorful clay, he began winding vines through the figures and adding a few colorful flowers here and there to make them really come to life.

  —--------------------------

  “Lord, it is time to awake, we have much to do,” came a diffident voice that sounded like a cultured English gentleman with gravel in his throat. Xander waved a hand at it sleepily. “Go away… I’m comfy.” he half whined, not wanting to give up the warm caress of sleep and pleasant dreams of art. “My apologies, Lord, but it has already been several days, and there are matters you simply must attend to,” the voice insisted. Xander didn’t respond, but contemplated if he could just ignore it and go back to sleep.

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  “Alexander Petrov, you must wake and attend to your tasks,” the person insisted. The use of his name inspired an instinctive reaction, and Xander sat up in the very comfortable bed, his long green hair tumbling down to cover part of his vision. He pushed it out of the way just as reflexively, tucking it behind his ears as he looked around. The first thing that he noticed was that the ‘bed’ he resided in. It looked grown rather than constructed, each of the four corner posts a gnarled oak tree that stretched to the leafy ceiling. The blankets and pillows were dark green moss that smelled earthy, but were softer than the mass produced ‘Egyptian silk’ sheets that had been on his dorm room bed.

  Someone cleared their throat in that infuriating bid for attention, and he almost refused to give them the satisfaction they craved, but he knew he would have to deal with it sooner rather than later. Off to his right a very unusual entity waited with faux patience. Likely under five feet tall if he had to guess, the being seemed to be some kind of tree person. The body was wide, stocky, and slightly hunched with dark bark that resembled a tuxedo. Its gnarled head had features made of knots and burls and had ‘hair’ composed of leaves that were slicked back and almost greasy. Four branch-like arms were folded across its chest, and in place of legs there was a tangle of roots. “Ummmm… who… are you?” Xander asked cautiously.

  “I am your Dungeon Interface Entity, or D.I.E. I assist in managing the resources, monsters, and grounds that make up your dungeon.” Xander’s mouth fell open and he gawked at the creature as it continued in its gravelly voice. “The name I have chosen is Reginald Sinclair, so you may call me either Mr. Sinclair or Reginald. Now, we have much business to attend to. Your ascension to Dungeon Lord was something of an irregularity, and done with such haste that I would deem it a rather sloppy job. Like as not, you will have adventurers knocking down your doors within a handful of days, perhaps a few weeks at the outside. Pursuant to this, there are a number of tasks we need to complete, and of course there is room for revisions of what is already in place.”

  There was a lot of information to unpack there, and Xander had a million questions, but there was one pressing concern that he could address himself while processing everything that Reginald had said. Looking down, he found himself still a dryad, but one who was actually clothed. Black moss formed a full length dress that was dense enough to hide his skin properly while still being light enough that he hadn’t noticed its weight. Skeletal hands cupped and accentuated his bosom while a number of other bones adorned the garment. It had a very sexy-vampire-noble vibe to it, and he would have thought it incredibly badass on anyone else.

  Gratitude at finally being properly clothed warred with his hatred of how it hugged and showed off his female shape. But wait… he could fix that… or at least he should be able to. Calling on his spells, carefully and one at a time, he used Sculpt Bone to tighten the bones around his chest so that they flattened the unwanted breasts against him, then Control Plants to reshape the dress into something more like shorts and a t-shirt. He smiled happily at the changes until Reginald asked “Is that really more to your satisfaction?” with a heavy dose of skepticism. Xander snorted, unable to be nearly as upset now that he was significantly more comfortable. “Yes, Reggie, it is.”

  “My name is Reginald, but you may call me Mr. Sinclair from now on” the D.I.E sniffed back, obviously quite offended. “Are you ready to get to work? There is much you need to know, and plenty of work to do.”

  “You know, I didn’t ask for an Igor-like henchman in the first place” Xander muttered. “Besides, if you are here to help me, shouldn’t you be an obsequious minion or something?”

  “You’re a Dungeon Lord on Gaellus, not a cartoon villain, and I am not your slave, butler, or even your nanny. I am more like your supervisor; here to make sure that you don’t screw things up too badly. So get out of bed and follow me unless you would like to die painfully and cause harm to the world in the process.”

  Xander felt a bit guilty at the entity’s words. He wasn’t really a people person to begin with, and the events of the last couple days had really put him on edge. He felt like he was missing pieces of his memory about the incident that had led up to this, but most of it was very clear up until the very end. Still, those were just excuses. Mistreating someone you had just met wasn’t exactly an acceptable way to go about starting a new relationship. “I’m sorry, Reginald,” he said with sincerity. “Can we start over? My name is Xander, and it's nice to meet you.”

  Reginald eyed him coolly for a long moment, but then seemed to sigh slightly and nodded. “Apology accepted, but we really must get started if you are to learn everything you need to know to run your dungeon successfully.” Xander nodded and climbed out of the bed, following Reginald out of the room. The hall that he found himself in was so damned cool that he stopped and gawked for a minute. Under his feet the ground was made of packed earth, but so flat that it might as well have been manufactured. Trees with dark and surprisingly straight bark made up the structural columns every ten feet or so with their top branches forming gothic arches and the leafy ceiling. Granite walls were built between them, and a few sections of wall had large alcoves which harbored imposing statues of dark creatures made of wood and bone. “Is this… my dungeon? It’s so… fucking badass!!” Xander said excitedly.

  “It is…” Reginald said patiently as they moved through the corridors, his multitude of roots giving him an almost imperceptible stride like some kind of deranged spider. Xander looked around with awe at everything, though after a bit of the newness wore off he noticed there was a decided lack of decoration. Then he had a worrisome thought and asked, “Wait… am I going to have to learn everything over again? I just spent several days learning about the system and picking stuff for my class and all that, but this Dungeon Lord gig sounds like it’s totally different.”

  Reginald snorted. “You have added responsibility and power, yes, but those are only additions. You will continue to level and grow your personal power and class much the same as before, though with a few bonuses. The dungeon will advance with you and has its own abilities and denizens with which to challenge adventurers.” At that reminder, Xander’s heart sank. “Am I going to have to fight… and kill?”

  “Of course.” Reginald responded without hesitation. “Killing isn’t the point, but it will happen. Your dungeon will attract adventurers, and you will have to make sure they want to keep coming back while also providing deadly traps and encounters.” It wasn’t what he had wanted to hear, but not exactly what he had expected either. Well, he hadn’t known exactly what to expect to be fair, but it still sounded a bit suspicious to him. “If killing isn’t the point, then what is?” he asked his guide as they moved along yet another hall. “And why is this place so huge?”

  “To take your second question first, this place is large because it is a dungeon, of course.” Reginald stated as if it should have been self-evident. “And the point, my new Dungeon Lord, is to make everyone on Gaellus stronger.”