“There’s no point in this.” Vraz frowned as he pinched an ink-black mushroom with violet gills. The slim goblin leaned forward and sniffed it. Regis hovered nearby, his presence oppressive as always. Vraz’s brows furrowed as the dungeon's attention pressed against him like waves of the sea. In the distance, Wort bleated out a mockery of a song. This ongoing hour-long affair drove nails into the dungeon’s sanity. “Looks the same as the rest. What’s so special about it?”

Regis’ attention enveloped everything in his cave. Even when the dungeon focused, he maintained a basic level of awareness for all within his domain. Meaning he heard every loud splash as Wort cleaned the dishes. This included a recent violent crack as a clay plate shattered across the ground. Anger burned inside of him like lava in a volcano.

As if the savages of this tribe didn’t break enough of his plates every single time his staff performed meal service. That utter donkey of a goblin wrecked even more! And those song lyrics!

Big an’ stuff!

Work away!

The goblin way! ya, ya!

Wort buff! ya ya!

Wort get goblin girls today!

Abhorrent. Lewder every verse. The tone-deaf goblin strained his low guttural pitch to a shrieking soprano. Regis lacked ears to stuff; consequently, he suffered the horrible fate of each word impacting his psyche. Whoever taught that imbecile the concept of singing deserved torment in a thousand hells. Regis contemplated ordering Vraz to shove raw potatoes down Wort's throat to make it stop. The pantry grew warm as heat radiated from the crystal. Vraz wiped the sweat from his brow and tied a bandanna across his forehead.

“Look again. If your pathetic gaze took a moment to register what it saw, you would discover that the azure gills on the mushrooms are not homogenous in color. They range from violet near the stem to vibrant blue near the cap. Detailed observation of the usable mushroom reveals that its color tone shifts between violet and emerald green.” It was a distinction with deep significance. Though the two were cousins, their properties couldn't be further apart. Regis identified the purple-blue mushroom as a nightshade cap. Its far more common cousin went by the name of mud cap

Mud cap tasted rather bland, yet remained barely palatable. Due to its entwined nature with earth mana, its inherent mana cultivation neutralized the poison it produced while growing. While it lacked as a potential ingredient, Regis kept a stock of them on hand for experimentation. Despite Regis’ vast knowledge of cooking and technique, he lacked knowledge when it came to the properties of mana.

Yet, the nightshade cap could not remain. Unlike mud caps, it produced no earth mana and remained poisonous. “If you served the mushroom to another goblin, in a manner of minutes, their throat would swell. Toxins would pollute their blood and cause them to undergo convulsions. While it’s not guaranteed that it has enough potency to kill, it certainly is possible.”

Vraz narrowed an eye and held the mushroom closer. His hand twitched. “So that’s why. Who would have grabbed this anyway? Doesn’t this tribe know good from bad mushrooms?”

“It’s rare for it to spawn in this environment. Even if the mushroom were consumed, I find it unlikely they would connect it to poisoning. Perhaps, that asinine shaman might have the capacity to recognize it. Gikx is to thank for this poisonous mushroom sheltering with the rest of the food. He refused to allow me to examine the stock before hauling it to the pantry. In his extraordinary words, ‘all mushrooms same, dumb shiny!” Exasperation bled into the buzzing tone.

Regis had not been aware of this incident until after the expansion. He discovered it in the midst of taking stock of his pantry and reveling in his success. Even with newfound control of the pantry, only through careful examination of each ingredient did he catch the nightshade cap. His general awareness functioned on a macro level within the domain. For more detailed observation, he had to narrow his attention. Like a lens on a spyglass.

Was there potential for a mistake that resulted in goblin manslaughter? Unlikely. During the process of cooking Regis meticulously groomed each ingredient. They would have discovered such a mistake before a goblin died, probably.

Even if a goblin died, nobody in the tribe of chuckle-fucks would realize the cause. They’d blame the ground-father and move on.

Serving muffins for brains had benefits.

Vraz continued to stare at the mushroom. Regis felt a slight shiver of indecision from his employee. Was his cook questioning his insight? The goblin rubbed his wrist, climbing to his feet. Vraz set the poisonous mushroom down. “You want me to toss it, right?” the cook rubbed at his wrist. A stanza echoed into the pantry as Wort professed love for certain kinds of goblin women.

“It will reside with the plethora of other refuse as compost for the garden. I’ll task Strum with the construction of an herb garden to supplement our supplies. Soon we may have a wide plethora of spices to—“ the wailing from the kitchen intruded.

Her name Urt

Make heart hurt!

She pretty like shiny!

When done with her

She purr!

Because Wort pat hein—

The cave shuddered as Regis darted from the pantry. The song stopped with a yelp and another plate shattering. The fool crossed the line between annoying to a need for silencing. Sure, profanity lived in kitchens. Memories of gruff cooks swearing were quite common to the dungeon. But this? It crossed the line from tolerable kitchen behavior to a pure delusion that bled incompetence. No longer would he allow it.

As the dungeon core flickered through the air, Vraz grabbed the nightshade cap. He wrapped it in a strip of cheesecloth, then tucked it away.

Jilde scrambled through the ancient forest, her heart racing as she picked her way over branches and brush. The extreme haste almost led her into dangerous animals several times. Yet, the risk and close encounters didn’t scare her. No, her heart and mind dwelled on Strum. That troll carried him off back to that horrible fortress! Her Strum!

Her knuckles a sickly pure white from the grip on her bow. If only she’d been stronger. Quicker. Better at hiding.

Anxiety bundled within in her at the lack of strategy to recover him. Held together by the simple feeling of impact of her feet across the damp ground. Like a scurrying rodent, she scrambled past trees and through bushes. Nothing could follow in her wake. Thirty minutes of pure running left the goblin coated in a thin sheen of sweat. But finally, she was almost back home.

“What problem?” A shrill voice rang from the nearby boulder. Jilde looked at Gikx with wide eyes. His frail form sat cross-legged, an obsidian sword rested in his lap. Finally! Her legs felt like jelly, but warmth flooded her. She’d have to push on only a little further. “Why run?” Gikx asked, ignoring her trying to catch her breathe. He cupped his hand and looked in the direction she came from.

“Strum-is-in-trouble!” she shouted between gasps.

“Gikx hero! Will save! Where Strum!?” shouted the slim goblin in reply, before flexing a bicep. This was no time for games! Horror swelled in her as she realized Gikx held direct authority over the situation. Due to his status of hero, any rescue operation or retaliation fell within his purview. She, a half-breed, sat far lower on the totem pole. Failure to comply to the power structure meant horrible consequences.

But relying on Gikx alone on this issue would kill many goblins, possibly including her Strum! She gave him a pleading look. “We need-to-talk to Regis!” Gikx jumped off the rock and puffed up his chest.

“No need shiny! Gikx big enough. Gikx hero.” He snorted at her implication. A sinking pit grew in her gut. She fucked up. Why hadn’t she ran past him straight to the dungeon? Did she ruin her only chance? Gikx grew closer, and she set her jaw. No matter what, she’d do what she needed to.

Gikx reached out to grasp her wrist. “You-aren’t-enough. Regis is. He-has-more-power. He’s a dungeon! He-can-offer-the-most-help!”

He frowned, his hand frozen between them “Why all about dungeon?” he asked, tone filled with mixed emotion.

“Does-it-matter? I need Strum to be-okay!” she shouted back at him, feeling panic welling in her again. If it got out that she, an outcast of the Shadow-Axe tribe, denied the hero his rightful authority… Who cares! Gikx looked down at his feet, taking in a shallow puff of air, before deflating.

“Would rather trust shiny, instead of Gikx?” His head lowered, hand dropping to his side.

“Don’t-put-words-in-my-mouth. I-want-all-the-help-I-can-get. Regis, Vraz, anyone! That-means-you-too!” There wasn’t time to soothe his ego. If he lashed out at her with his high position that it was a consequence she’d deal with later. She pushed him aside, moving past. There’s no time for this.

Gikx squared his shoulders as she briskly went by. “Gikx and Jilde see dungeon together. Save Strum. Gikx like Strum. Good goblin.” he declared, “Hero follow.”

She gave him the briefest of an appraising look, then dashed off. Gikx jogged behind. Goblins yelped and jumped out of the way as they shoved past. Gikx yelling, “Hero job!” was the only explanation they left in their wake. None of these goblins mattered to her aside from Strum. They would save him. She couldn’t live with herself otherwise

Bursting into the kitchen greeted them with the sight of Regis violently shaking near a pile of broken plates. Wort on his knees, face red as the dungeon yelled, picking up shards of ceramic. Pots slammed and flames raged from the stovetop, even the ground shook. At the back of the kitchen, Vraz leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. Jilde running into the kitchen set off another stream of obscenities.

“You daft miserable cheeky cunt of a savage! How divinely deplorable!—“

The flames flares to the ceiling of the cave as Gikx stepped in, obsidian sword in hand. The scrawny goblin bit his lip and looked around with curiosity before settling his gaze on Regis.

“Ahahahahaa, when I thought there no conceivable way to increase my fury. Here I am admonishing one sorry sack of dung goblin! When another with a brain the size of a literal pea strides into my kitchen! I would spew bile if I physically could from the disgust dwelling in me right now. Running into my domain no less! Why bother opening a restaurant in this hell hole! Vraz! This is it, we’re closing down this sorry excuse for culinary carnival, and transforming into a circus. Enough clowns wander in already. We might as well commence charging admission fees!”

The air thinned, it became difficult to breath as the dungeon ranted. Sweat coated their clammy green bodies. On a normal day, Jilde felt afraid to come anywhere near the dungeon. It could go mad at any moment. Strum kept her from encountering Regis as much as possible since he knew her fears. But right now, not even that would stop her.

“They-took-Strum!” she shouted. The flames ceased. Vraz flinched and pushed himself free from the wall, a sigh escaped his lips.

“Excuse me, I must have misheard. I do apologize, this idiot has done his best to fray my patience all day long,” Regis hummed, floating towards her. Wort lept at the chance to improve his situation. The oaf gathered broken ceramic and piled it in a bid to clean it before the fury of Regis could return. “Now, where is Strum? I despise handling this fool.”

Jilde inhaled clearing the stress from her voice. She needed him to understand. “We saw Pox and Yrx sneaking-away from-the-cave. We tracked them. They went into the Ancient forest—” Gikx let out a gasp. “—And went to-a-fortress filled with all-kind-of monsters-cooperating-with-humans. Strum told me to warn-you. About the-dark-lord. Please, Regis. We need to save him!” Vraz stroked his chin, then shook his head and strode toward a bundle in the corner of the room.

“...” The crystal let out a small vibration. Vraz withdrew a rusted falchion from the sack and returned to Jilde’s side. She gave him a grateful look. Regis remained floating, a slight spin that caused light to play off the dim torches. Too long passed before a low hum radiated out. “From what I can tell, he appears to be at peak health. You do not have to consider the worst occurring. He remains stationary. Through our bond, I can sense approximately where he is. Along with some of his thoughts. Were our bond more developed, we could communicate. He’s nervous, but not in danger as of now,” the crystal confirmed.

Jilde’s heart slowed, and she leaned on a counter. Relief flooded through her with the intensity of a river shattering a damn.

“This is an untenable situation. My influence does not extend past this kitchen. What guarantee do I have that if I sent you that—” Regis paused once more, causing the trio of goblins to look between one another. “—Very peculiar. He’s moving now. What is this? Disgusting. Something has affixed their dirty mana to him. Impudent!” the crystal shook in place. “From what I gather, he shall be thrown into the ancient forest. A dangerous location if his trepidation means anything. Go retrieve him and ensure his safe return,” the dungeon finally commanded.

Vraz nodded, grabbing the emotionally whiplashed half-goblin by the shoulder. The two pushed towards the cave entrance. He and Gikx exchanged a nod. “Will do chef. Be back soon,” Vraz gave a small wave as the trio of goblins walked towards the exit.

“Farewell. Return swiftly. The longer I’m left alone with this dimwit, the more likely I am to collapse this whole cave to put an end to this.”