Antonio sat at the head of the table in one of his restaurant’s private dining rooms and regarded his family benevolently, they had grown into quite a tribe over the years, three generations now and with the exception of Pedro who was jealously examining everything with greed in his heart they were good people and he was proud of them. He was glad he would be here to watch them grow and able to help them when they needed it.

The family reunion went well and plans were made to make it a regular occurrence.

Before they left he persuaded his daughter to cut the ribbon and officially open the safe fun ride style dungeon on the mainland that had been nursed into life by Simon Termador and Helen Gabriel. It was chock full of special effects and safety features and inhabited by some very weak monsters that wouldn’t get called monsters anywhere else in the multiverse. He grinned as his daughter seemed to bloom under the attention of the assembled cameras.

He strolled back to his rooms before dismissing his avatar, then he asked his defenders and friends to be wary of Pedro and to keep an eye on him or any of his friends when they were in his domain. He hated not trusting his grandson but life as a dungeon core tended to foster a certain degree of caution.

Next day he and Felicia welcomed the minister of transport and his entourage and spent an extremely boring – and expensive – few hours as he kept his lawyer on hand for advice using his dungeon abilities to keep all his team in touch and aware in real time.

“Look, I can only remain aware of a limited number of gates and I assure you we have virtually reached that point. The ambitious plans you have for cheap instant travel in Portugal and Europe would need a dedicated dungeon core. The thing is, could you trust an individual willing to become a gem for the remainder of an admittedly extended life performing what would be a rather boring job.”

Antonio winced, “Yes, choosing. I believe there must be ways to create dungeon cores, but I would think that they would soil the soul of anyone who would be willing to undertake them. After all we are talking about killing someone and binding their souls to a rock.”

After the minister left, unsatisfied that his ambitious plans for personal power and influence were not going to be fulfilled but already scheming to get his ministry a dedicated dungeon core exculpating himself with the thought that there were lots of people who would be better off as a rock with a secure future.

Then a meeting with the minister for tourism who wanted safe beaches in the Algarve, Antonio set up a teleconference with Jezebel. This time Antonio was having a hard time hiding his glee. They were willing to pay him to extend his defenders hunting grounds. A little haggling citing the need for his defenders to travel to and from their station gave him the right to hunt monsters in all the waters off the Portuguese mainland.

The next problem arose from the play dungeon, some foreign animal rights groups were objecting to the – adventurers – killing the so called monsters.

Sigh... This was getting very tedious fast. Why on earth would anyone object to killing rats, weak slimes and other unpleasant creatures. Chaining themselves to the gates... Need to hire a PR department or a charismatic manager to handle these idiots.

* * *

“Mama, mama come look... some silly people have chained themselves to the gates of the fun dungeon,” panted Tessarra as she came pelting up to her mother.

Silverfin and his wives couldn’t resist going to check, sure enough a dozen or so people had chained themselves to the gates and safety fences they had draped with banners proclaiming their belief that rats, giant spiders, froglings, slimes and other assorted vermin were sacred and deserved to be left alone. Over a dozen supposedly intelligent beings rendering themselves helpless IN a dungeon. They were unable to restrain their laughter, and were soon joined by their children and their friends.

The protestors just looked hurt and upset at being laughed at and that just made it funnier!

After Silverfin returned to his office in the Guild and met his next appointment, a man from the local ministry of transport all traces of levity left him. It would appear Antonio had let something slip in one of his endless meetings.

“Yes it is possible to create dungeon cores. Yes Antonio is correct it involves sacrifice and soul binding. I am sure Antonio doesn’t know how to enact the ritual as it is a Necromantic ritual and our local dungeon holds no undead. No I don’t know where to find a necromancer.”

A short walk to find Father Bartolomeu followed and the Church was formally informed of the local ministry of transports unsavory inquiries.

* * *

Major Alexander Manukov led his men into the gate on the first stage of their journey to find the purported Romanov. Nadia’s throw away comment had facilitated their journey, they would have to traverse four worlds still but at least they would not have to cross any worlds or provinces that had belonged to the Empire of Light this way.

Nadia was coming too, she had had too much – inadvertent – input to this mission. So now he and his wife had been made the girl’s guardians and she was along as were several other wives, all added to try and disguise the fact that it was a military expedition. All his soldiers and medics were veterans of the invasion and had correspondingly high levels. The fact that virtually all of them bore the title Godslayer was unfortunate.

So everyone leading horses and pack mules, though thankfully thanks to their new storage devices only a few mules they proceeded through the gate then through the portal into the portal hub in Portugal and through a cleared and roped off corridor to another portal. That led to a crystalline underwater chamber with yet another portal that led to a – a shrine to lady luck – and out into a stonewalled passage where they were met as promised by a pixie who led them through passages and chambers full of monsters and traps.

Meanwhile on the world of Marcenium several adventurers and a couple of Guild officials were examining Bluestone Dungeon’s sealed entrance. When the first adventurers had arrived in the morning they had found it sealed and they had alerted the local guild offices. The officials had been sent by the guildmaster in case action would be required if there had been any other changes in the dungeon like that shrine.

The dungeon didn’t remain sealed long and when it opened a column of high elves in strange yellowish green clothes rode out on some truly spectacular horses.

The more senior of the officials stepped forward and was gratified when the column stopped, the apparent leader was accompanied by a young human – no a young semi-divine girl.

The second guild official was assessing them surreptitiously. The warriors were all rangers of some type or other, well supplied with healers and accompanied by a high priestess of an unknown god and some low level followers. The majority bore the title Godslayers, plural as in several gods not one.

A quick explanation, led to further clarifications and the welcome news that this band of strangely approachable high elves just wanted peaceful passage to the nearest world gate to Stratsiosina. The guild officials watched the tail of the column disappear in the distance accompanied by a hastily hired local guide with relief. They totally missed seeing the catgirl and her two feline companions slip out of the dungeon and into the surrounding countryside.