“So you want me to take this stone roller…” Netli held up the harness. “Intended to be hauled by two oxen.”

“Or crabs.” Zetli added.

“Or crabs- and you want me to haul it around by hand. Myself. And flatten everything, all by myself.” Netli rocked the device back and forth experimentally.

“Yes.” Marisha nodded.

Netli paused for a moment, considering. A blinding grin flashed across his face. “Okay!” And he was off, pushing the half-ton stone roller ahead of him.

Zetli watched as Netli enthusiastically tried to flatten a two-foot mound of dirt. “I don’t think it’s going to work.”

“Shut up. He has to push past his limits to form his aura.” Marisha sighed. She didn’t think it would work either.

“He’s just having fun.” Netli had taken his shirt off and was gathering a small female audience. "You sure this is the proper method?"

“I'm working off rumor and hearsay. Do you have any better ideas?..” Marisha scowled at him. She looked like an angry raisin. Zetli did not share that.

“Push past his limits?” Zetli stroked his chin, rough scales that served the Sahii as beards rasping against his fingers. “Toss him in the ladies’ tent naked.”

“What!?” Marisha spun to him hissing.

“A wise man once said: The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.” Zetli posed a bit, imitating his father when he dispensed wisdom.

“That is absolutely not how aura works. Besides, he can’t have six wives.” Ha, she was considering it.

“Never said anything about marriage.” He shrugged easily.

“What if he gets them pregnant?”

“There’s a tool made of-” Marisha interrupted him.

“I know what condoms are, young man.”

“Mmm.” Zetli hummed.

“And it wouldn’t work in the first place.”

“Mmm.” Zetli hummed.

“Pointless to even think about it.”

“Mmm.” Zetli hummed.

“Don’t ‘mmm’ me. You may be chief but I’m old enough to have changed your diapers.”

“Sorry, venerable one.”

“Don’t do that either.”

“Apologies, Elder Marisha.”

“Brat.” She humphed.

“Chief brat.” Zetli smirked.

“Have you been practicing your spearwork?” Marisha scowled at him, more raisiny than ever.

“Later. I have to go talk to the dungeon girl.” He began to walk away. He knew when to pick his battles.

“She has good hips.” Marisha called after him.

“I hadn’t noticed.” Zetli lied, walking faster. He had noticed a great deal. While he hadn’t thought much of the filthy rat that showed up three days ago, the goddess layered in silks that had arrived today was another matter.

“You’re thirty-six! Well past time!” She called after him.

"Netli is twenty-two!" He shouted back.

"Coma years don't count!" Zetli waved back at her dismissively. It hadn't taken the old battleaxe a week after she returned to start mothering the tribe, nevermind that she'd been gone for longer than Zetli had been alive. She was distinctly imperial in a number of ways too- he didn't care but some of the elders still grumbled at their frontier-style clothes.

Honestly, Zetli wanted a set, but he knew the kind of storm that would set off. He could quell his own clan but in meetings with other clans… If Ezekial hadn't been so clearly divine he'd have rejected the housing stuff too- or at least used the wood for something else. Tents worked and were traditional.

'The gods said so' was an excellent excuse for reform, at least. That and the fact that they could stop migrating for a while. Zetli would see if that extended to pants with pockets. Maybe vests. Imagine…

Bryn was being badgered by Cualli when Zetli walked up. He'd only managed journeyman before he had returned to the clan, but the carpenter was passionate about his craft, even if there were little materials for him to work with out here. That may change.

"...And look at the grain- almost perfectly straight! It's as hard as iron too! We can only work it with the tools you brought! Please, what sort of wood is this?" Bryn had shrunk into herself, clearly intimidated by the larger man.

"...Dungeon wood?" She ventured.

"But from what kind of tree?"

"...Dungeon trees?.." She replied weakly. Zetli cleared his throat and stepped in.

"She's not allowed to tell you. The more information delvers have the worse it is for Ezekial." Bryn flashed him a smile, then a hmph as she remembered she was mad at him.

"Ah… That makes sense. Sorry, ma'am." Cualli bobbed his head and trotted off with the plank to do whatever he was actually supposed to be doing.

The chief looked back at Bryn. "If you can get him some more of that stuff that isn't slated for construction he'll love you forever. Not used to the attention?" She shook her head.

"No, and, uh, thanks." She looked down and blushed a little. Probably feeling ungrateful because he was being nice while she was being bratty.

"No worries. You'll get used to it. Or find someone to do it for you. By the way, I have to apologize for the cart thing. It was a test. One Ezekial passed admirably." He patted the ridiculous wagon. Why did it have a bag on top? Wouldn't that get blown around by wind? Still, it was impressive. Especially if it was made overnight.

"What?"

"What?" Zetli echoed. She scowled at him. Cute.

"Not you too… A test? What do you mean?"

"Ah. Never serve someone who cannot take a slight or setback. Better to persist than serve an unstable tyrant. I did the cart switch to see how he'd react. If you had come down filled with fire and brimstone I would have just packed the tribe up and left." Zetli tapped the wagon again.

"This is a good answer. Something like… I notice little tricks and you can get away with it, but see what I have to offer to those that please me. Or I don't need your shitty little cart, I can do better. I can work with either attitude."

"Ohh!.." Bryn nodded. "That makes sense. It was still rude though." She frowned at him.

"Well, yeah. That was the point. It wouldn't work if I wasn't being rude." He shrugged. She nodded thoughtfully. "In any case, I'd like to speak to Ezekial directly If I can. Both to apologize in person and to work closer with him. Get to know what he intends. Or you can pass messages, but having an entire cart ride between messages might make things inconvenient." Bryn nodded, then blushed and looked guilty for some reason.

"Ah, I can't promise anything, but you can ride the wagon up to the dungeon. I don't think he'd mind and I can ask then. We're done unloading too, so?.." Zetli agreed and got into the wagon as Bryn climbed up to her throne, followed by her guardian drake. It took her a moment to get the giant crabs attention- cracking the reins didn't work and she resorted to stomping on the shell- but when she finally did it immediately turned around and trundled back up the path. It was a smooth ride, smoother than any wagon ride Zetli had had before. He wanted one. He wanted several.

The bag DID catch the wind a bit though.

They arrived at the entrance after a bit. It was incredible. It had a stone roof with the lintel carved with paired birds and orbs, held up by a dozen columns engraved with what looked like twisted ladders. The ceiling was painted with a detailed, uh, puddle. A sphere with a bit in the middle surrounded by little things? Zetli had no idea.

"How the hell did he do that?" Bryn wondered aloud.

"What?" Zetli said, startled.

"What?" She replied with a smirk.

"I mean… Is this new? This has to be new. I think I'd have heard about it before…" He trailed off. A giant floating hand was beckoning them onward.

"Yeah. That is also new, by the way. But the thing is, he can't go into the sunlight, or maybe just outside at all, so…" He climbed off the cart and stood by the giant stone doors as she dismounted the crab, then led it in. "Come in, by the way. He knows you're here and waved, so."

Zetli followed her in. He knew Ezekial was different, but… Dungeons were holes in the ground. Caves. When they expanded their entrances they blasted them open with a wave of essence. They did not have welcoming halls with lounging couches and tables with a steaming hot dinner prepared. They hid away in the deepest depths of their dungeon.

Ezekial was a floating orb held in a basket hanging beneath a bag, somehow floating in midair. Strange pipes led out of it which blasted out music like a one-orb band. It had two floating giant hands- closer, Zetli could see that they were hollow cloth gloves filled with some sort of thread that extended from the orb. One of the hands was holding a large umbrella, which he waved at Bryn.

"Oh. He used an umbrella. Of course you can defy the laws of nature with an umbrella." Bryn stated in a matter of fact tone, nodding to herself as if this was all not utterly bizarre. One of the hands gestured towards the table. Zetli took a seat. "Could you make a surface dungeon with a big tent?" The pearl set down the umbrella and then pulled its, uh, 'arms' up in a shrug.

From thin air the pearl wove a smaller glove, then extended it towards Zetli for a handshake. Zetli shook it out of instinct. He felt an odd tingle in his hand and then- 'Hello hello, welcome to the house of Ezekial. I made steak and salad. The white bottle is Emperor dressing and the brown is a vinegarette. I may or may not have a number of beers on tap, I haven't checked. In the glasses is orange juice, probably.'

Zetli thought the pearl was trying to catch him off balance. Ezekial had succeeded in that. Bryn sat down on her own chair and began to tuck into the meal. She looked up at Zetli. "Try not to think too much. It doesn't help. Eat. This is amazing- I haven't had ANY of these spices before."

Zetli ate. Bryn ate. Ezekial made a variety of steel coils and dropped them from three feet in the air. As the meal went on they bounced better and better. Eventually, they finished the meal- Zetli tried the emperor dressing which was quite good- and Ezekial had built stairs which his wire coils were 'walking' down like they were bizarre snakes.

Bryn was right. It helped to not think too much.

Ezekial provided cloth towels and pure essence water- the entire meal had been imbued with essence- to clean their hands. A glove reached out to hold hands with Zetli again. 'So, let's talk business.'

"Ah, I came to apologize for my-" He was interrupted by a careless wave.

'Don't worry about it. I heard you talking to Bryn and I get it.' He had heard? How? 'Don't want to work for a bad boss. It was annoying but makes sense. What I want to talk about is building.'

He blinked.

'Listen, you guys are terrible at it. Some guy is making a triangular doorway. Who even does that? I worked out some blue papers-' suddenly there was an enormous sound, like a titan whistling. Zetli clapped his hands over his ears, bringing the glove with him. It seemed to be stuck to his hand.

"Akasha, what is that?" He shouted.

'Bad timing for a happy little accident. Don't worry. It's not a volcano, I checked.'

Zetli worried. He dashed out of the dungeon and looked behind him- a giant mushroom-shaped cloud was rising in the air above the crater. Bryn joined him, strolling out more casually.

"It doesn't stop. Two days and there's something new whenever I look. It's all been good things, so far. Like he probably said. Don't worry about it. I remember he said something about there not being a volcano before."

"He said it wasn't a volcano. He checked." The chief replied numbly. Bryn patted him on the shoulder.

"There you go. Nothing to worry about." Zetli broke down laughing. What else could he do?