Baldur the Druid bellowed in pain and frustration. He shook Ata’s hand from his arm. “I said to GO!” he snarled, flecks of spital forming at the corners of his mouth.

Something hard passed over the Rogue’s visage and her normal carefree attitude vanished. “They’re gone. I’m not leaving you behind.” She returned her hand to his arm.

“I’m fine. I’ve got this!” He looked back at Magi when he said it. The Cicadossum Boss Mob snarled back at him. The looping vines that bound Magi to the stop were coming free, snapping one after another as the Boss Mob struggled.

“Not without them. Without me. If you want us to survive, we’re all surviving.” Ata tugged on Baldur’s arm. “Remember the plan. Let’s go.”

The Druid seemed to hesitate. But Gem could see clarity returning as each stack of Rage faded. He was remembering what they talked about. The call to run.

“I’ll be back,” he said, the threat whispered through clenched teeth. “We shall see who stands then.”

He let himself be led away by his companion. Gem noticed he was leaning on her, favoring his left leg which had thick gashes high on the outside of the thigh.

As soon as they were out of the room, Magi let out a dungeon-shaking roar. The sound caused the Cardinowl to stop singing.

Silence.

It was so deafening.

Gem had forgotten how quiet things could be without the constant song of the mob.

The adventurers noticed, too.

Poulsen shuddered as he returned Sakir’s staff to her. The Enchanter gave him a thin smile before turning her attention to Helgi. His hands were wrapped in the glowing magic of the Sage’s once more, but she shook her head.

“My wounds are not serious,” she said in a thin voice that betrayed her exhaustion. “Go see to him.”

Helgi released the building magic immediately at the struggling tank, who was slouching more against Ata now. “Thank you,” the Sage said, although it wasn’t clear if he spoke to Sakir for her selflessness, or Ata for fetching their friend and tank.

“I’m fine,” Baldur said as the Sage rushed over. “Rage fading so often is just wearing on me.”

Helgi clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth with an audible pop. “You can say that all you want, but I can see the state of your flesh.” He lifted the Druid’s arm to show where loops of cloth bound his chest tight. A slice arched up his side, nearly severing the makeshift top in two. The skin was slowly repairing itself, due to the Sage’s magic, but nothing could save the cloth. “I can repair this when we return to town, but it might come loose before then.”

Baldur grimaced. “I would rather it not.”

“I figured.” Helgi rummaged around the bag on his hip. After a moment, he withdrew a bit of metal fiber, thin and flexible. “This is the best I’ve got. Won’t stand up to battle, but should hopefully hold it closed for the trip back.”

When the Druid consented to the repair, Helgi wound the thin metal back and forth through the cloth, piercing it with ease. When done, he wrapped the ends and tucked them against the Druid’s chest.

“It isn’t perfect, but it should hold.”

Baldur nodded. “Thank you, my friend.” He touched the Sage’s shoulder, and then looked over his companions. Ata was helping Sakir with her ankle, and Poulsen was fretting about a scuff mark on one of his shoes.

“And thank you to all of you,” Baldur said, raising his voice to catch their attention. “I apologize for my actions. My rage is to blame, but that is a poor excuse. I promise to do better next time.”

“I’m just glad there will be a next time,” Ata said, moments before her lips split into a crooked grin. “Guess you owe me dinner for saving your life, eh?”

The Druid murmured something under his breath, too quiet for Gem to hear it. But he smiled at her after, and Gem could see a tenderness in that smile he hadn’t expected.

“Ooooh, looks like those two are in a relationship,” Chesu said in a singsong tone.

“More common than you’d think!” Chesu stretched his arms over his head, and yawned. “Adventurers throw themselves into danger, and then into bed once they’re all worked up. Sometimes with more than one party member. At a time.” The wisp waggled his brows. “I could totally see the Sage joining them.”

Gem sent him a disgusted look.

Chesu looked like he wanted to argue, but instead shrugged. “Fair. All a bit of fun, anyway.”

It didn’t seem like fun to Gem, but it could have been his lack of body. A physical form had things like hormones and needs to distract the mind. As a Dungeon Core, he didn’t need to worry about that.

He could hear the disappointment in his thoughts.

Gem watched as the adventurers collected themselves and their things, and helped one another towards the door. As soon as they were past the entrance into the first room, the Cardinowl resumed its song.

“That’s a good thing, kid. I expected a second try, but knowing they’re in no shape is smart. That means they’ll come back. And they got to see Magi’s moves, so now they can strategize and prepare.”

“Perhaps? They’ll likely share what they learn; adventurers on Sleyn like to provide others with guides so more can level. Some planets are filled with adventurers who keep their strategies secret, but not here. Those planets have contests and rankings and a whole bunch of drama about who’s winning. It’s hard to worry about things like competition when the world is going to die under you.”

Gem found he was excited to see others take on Magi. Especially if they had shared knowledge.

He was also glad he told the boss to let them escape if they left the room. And that Ata was able to recover Baldur before the Druid killed himself on Magi’s massive claws.

Once the adventurers left his dungeon, Gem was greeted by a message:

Quest Complete: Testing The Waters. Have a party of adventurers retreat from your dungeon after clearing a room without any deaths. Reward: 100 xp baseline (600 xp total)

Congratulations! Through grit and determination you’ve earned enough experience to gain Tin Five.

Upgrade Point Earned! New Room Unlocked: Tannery

When Gem looked at his character sheet, he could see a little note reading “(3 points available)” next to Upgrades.

Chesu, however, cautioned Gem from spending them.

“You’ll get a point for every rank. Except for Tin 1, where the system auto-selects your upgrades to make sure you can function. But there are tons of options. And if you don’t take the right things, you might not be able to upgrade a tier.”

Gem sent him an image of a frowning core.

“Sorta.” Chesu shrugged. “You’ll be my first Sleyn Dungeon Core to hit Copper, so I guess we’ll see then.” He paused before explaining. “Each planet is a little different. Some World Cores are vindictive about the systems they had to deal with as Dungeon Cores, so they go really hard on punishing new cores. Make the system super complicated. All it really does though is keeps new cores from being able to experiment and offer new things.”

Gem thought while sending the wisp another image, this time of a grimacing core.

“Yeah. Don’t envy them, that’s for sure. But not only for that. They… Well, they lose their wisp. Like, you know, me. And Ruxium. I had to leave, so he had to figure shit out alone. It’s gotta be hard, kid.”

Gem tried to ask questions about why, but Chesu seemed uninterested in answering. He just sort of closed in on himself, eventually just responding with grunts and shrugs. The wisp didn’t even seem to care when an adventurer group entered the dungeon, nor when Gem got bored and built the Tannery.

Just like before with the Forge, it was a pre-built room that he placed down. Spawned with an NPC who just made soft noises and tilted his head when Gem prompted it to create something.

The Tannery, Gem found, could create two things: hand to hand weapons, which he hadn’t seen in action and so didn’t have any designs available, and leather armor, like that Mark had worn. Gem got the Tannery NPC started on creating a leather cuirass, just because it would take so long.

He also checked on the progress of his shortsword and dagger at the Forge. The sword was finished, but the dagger still had a few hours to go. He checked his mana total before putting in another order for a second shortsword. He wasn’t sure how many he’d end up wanting, but it seemed like a good idea to have more than one.

Gem thought as he turned his attention to the Plantlings at the generators.

“AAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIII!” the little Plantling responded, tearing himself away from the block he was crafting.

The Plantling took the weapon easily enough, but once it was in his hand he seemed confused on what to do with it. Shriek turned to the block that had formed and started beating it with the sword’s flat side, shrieking loudly as he did.

But it was no use. The Plantling was too distracted, and Gem feared it would turn the blade on its fellows.

He took the blade from the Plantling, out of fear it would harm the wisp, too, when he came over. Time would heal the Plantlings, but Gem wasn’t sure if Chesu could mend so easily.

The wisp shook his head, as if clearing away a cobweb of thoughts. “Hm? Oh.” He lazily flew over to Gem and the Plantlings, landing on the block at Shriek’s generator. “You need to make him a Servitor. While other mobs, more humanoid ones, for example, might be smart enough to use a weapon without being a Servitor, they don’t do well with them. Simple minds can’t really comprehend the intricacies of weapon usage.”

“A dungeon mob with free will. Consciousness. Independence. You will no longer be able to control them, although you can still command them. They just get to choose if they listen or not.”

Gem sent the wisp an image of a grimacing core.

“Hah! Kid, you’re joking, right?”

When Gem just sent him a second grimacing core, Chesu laughed louder, but only in a short burst. “Kid, kid, kid. I promise. They don’t have agency. Your mobs are an extension of you. A manifestation of your will and desire to murder some adventurers for experience points. Making them a Servitor gives them agency and free will. Makes them a lot harder to kill, too.”

Gem didn’t feel much better about that answer.

The wisp shook his head. “Can’t. At least, not here.” He laughed, waving his arms in the air. “I know, I know! Before you think it, I know. All these rules. Some of them are only applicable here. Others only matter in other places. Super confusing, right? But let’s just focus on what we know for Sleyn. You get two Servitors per tier, and they don’t cost you Command Points. They get bigger and stronger, can use weapons and think for themselves. It makes them powerful, right? It’s why you’re limited. Makes it so you can't make a whole dungeon out of nothing but Servitors.”

“Right? I had that very same question. But apparently a dungeon once thought it was a good idea, and it did work pretty well for them. Until, uh, the whole Ostrum thing.” Chesu grimaced. “Anyway, kid. Servitors.”

“Well, they're a sentient creature, so they’ll want space of their own. A bed, four walls, maybe even a window. You should have unlocked a whole Feature category for furniture.”

“Good, good.” Chesu motioned towards Shriek. “There’s no telling what type of furniture the little Plantling will want before you make it, but if he doesn’t like the accommodations he’s less likely to listen to you.”

Gem sent the wisp an image of a frowning core.

“Right. Power of friendship or whatever.” The wisp rubbed a hand across his eyes. “Go ahead and make a room for him, kid. He’s small, so it likely doesn’t have to be a big one, so don’t feel like you need to take it too far.”

Gem decided to just follow the wisp’s prompting. Asking more about servitors would be great, but he’d already decided this is what he was doing. Shriek would be the perfect candidate for his loose ideas on how he would use a Servitor.