“Hey, quit getting knocked over by slimes and get me out of this chest. I finished up fixing the first floor, and you’re blocking me from modifying the second.”

Down in the still-dark chambers below the pit trap, specifically six rooms through the northward path, the spear-holding creature doesn’t so much sigh in resignation so much as make the expression of a person who has been given incredibly unreasonable orders they were expected to accomplish, and subsequently do so, too many times to muster the energy to complain about this most recent one. It had been covered in small, wriggling purple slimes doing their utmost to weigh their prey down enough to allow bigger slimes to consume the debuffed target, while green slimes rotate a pattern of slamming into each side in sequence to prevent escape until a deadlier variant was able to make its way over to finish the job. Combined with the full sized purple slimes reapplying their payload of miniature goos every few seconds, the combination would be enough for almost any target to be consumed by the nest. Unfortunately for them, Avery had been harvesting the variants expediently with her lured Great Blue; no such finisher was going to wander over on its own.

Telekinesis was going to be useless here, the creature reasoned. Even if it was to remove the sticky bits all over itself, the things would quickly grow to their full size and continue exacerbating the situation. Without the ability to break the source of the heavy nodules with its mind, simple decontamination was an unproductive use of time. If there were stones of some description nearby it could use to launch toward the fragile creatures, that would be a different story, but the way it was built make the direct destructive force of mind practically nil. Floating the spear around and stabbing each blob without moving was a tempting image, but with a large mass so close gravitational factors interfered with moving such a massive object solely through non-physical means.

Unfortunately, that only left purely physical means to deal with this situation.

As it had already determined through a fairly excessive amount of trial and error, simply stabbing the slimes was more than enough to pop them. However, accuracy was a major issue. They didn’t attempt to dodge, but with how poorly its body functioned without mechanical assistance while in actual gravity hitting the creatures was more or less reliant on sheer luck. Clearly, that meant that it was going to have to create its own mechanical advantage.

Grasping the stone spear with its tail, the ‘invader’ spins around while keeping the pole stationary on the ground. Relaxing the muscles in the limb as much as possible, it wraps itself in as many loops as it can before running out of makeshift string; six and a half rotations. With an exertion of compressive force, it flexes the entirety of its tail at once, shrinking the limb to half its maximum length.

Physics ensue. While the source of the force is different than when the phenomenon is generally observed, the effect is the same as when any object is wrapped in a line before said line is pulled. Near instantly the creature is spun around several times, at which point it relaxes the tension on the line just enough to heave the spear up from the ground before inertia catches up to the other side of its maneuver. As the spinning itself provided enough momentum to dislodge the purples, the follow up where the spear follows the creature’s arc spins out toward all three of the full sized purples, the five green, and the six balls of goop now within range of a randomly flailing chunk of rock.

Two of the greens are immediately hit by the spear of stone, followed by the remaining three when they continue their straight line into the dervish. As the momentum dies down, one final spin sends the spear through the purples, and one of the tiny ones. That left five of the previously stuck-on balls, already starting to inflate toward full size, and two new purple balls per slain full-sized one. Finishing them off was still within the realm of possibility, technically, but alas, it was time to do something less mind-numbingly tedious.

Meanwhile, Avery had realized she could finish the third floor and make it into a realm of pure suffering. Feeling benevolent, she color codes the switches and doors they affect. With all the water she can use to supplement her mana, simple cosmetic upgrades were not out of the question. Additionally, all the extra rooms she managed to put together gave an additional seventy-one points of mana per hour. With just a few more floors of horrible puzzles, she would be out of the red, even with the new negatives she’d been saddled with.

Once she got the invader out of the second floor, she could connect the tunnel from the secret wall behind the first floor key door down to the shaft through the third floor, then expand downward through the water-lock to make a level below the flooded area. With that, and the fact that she now had access to water creation, she would be able to make a level beyond just horrible puzzles and mazes. She could make a multi-level water puzzle maze.

That would have the side benefit of keeping slimes out.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Waking up from napping in the semi secluded spot the kobold had found, the Mage of Magic starts it's night by checking it's notes on how magic works, as a refresher about finding the loopholes in reality to slip through. Sneaking through out of the way spots was just about the biggest thing kobolds were known for, though generally in a more literal fashion. This was less about finding a neglected portion of a fence to get into a storehouse, and more about figuring out sleeping a animals couldn't resist magical effects that a baby crow would ignore by dint of not wanting it to work. All the Mage required for an instant escape route was a spell intended to switch a wizards position with another, willing, person, and a chicken to knock out and throw. Probably a less sneaky magicer would trade places with some person with armor and a weapon when they were ambushed by kobolds or something like that, but that doesn't help when both of them were under attack at the same time. Not that the Mage would know anything about that specific scenario, of course.

All the best spells didn't deal with its target in a way they can fight. Trapping the area, denying space, tricky escapes, those were the magics for a Kobold. But no, the sorcerous elders tap into flashy bursts and the like. Those were what they expect from magic, to bring the power of dragons to the forefront of the warren and inspire them to throw themselves into the blades of adventurers, as opposed to anything that could render more than themselves effective. Sure they could set a group on fire, if they were ever willing to put themselves in harm's way, but that wasn't ever going to happen. It would fall to the young to pick up a spear and die to the much larger everything, stopping incursion to the depths with magicers by plugging the holes with meat until they either die themselves, get bored, or are full enough from eating kobolds to wander off.

It might not be much now, but even slathering the ground below an owlbear with grease could provide enough of an advantage for a swarm of Kobolds to wear down the creature before they were slaughtered. In fact, looking over the notes, the Mage thought there might be a commonality between the two spells it could utilize for another loophole. Both transport an item from one location to another, but the one for grease transported the material back after the magic ran out. By isolating what made that happen, the Mage might manage magic of a different sort; one where the power invested into the spell didn't define the effect. Generally, each spell would become more effective as the caster grows more powerful and their capability with Mana increases. Similarly, the more specificity is required for the spell to function, the lower the base mana cost is. Limits on what the spell can do would force the energy to behave in a more rigorously defined fashion, as opposed to the versatile and inefficient popularly imagined spells.

Before thinking about trying to optimize summoning, there is one spell where the Mage reverses the flow of gravity on something nearby, in which it injects the mana into the object through physical contact. It had been working on that for a while, and the biggest issue with the spell was locomotion after contact with the solid object in question came into effect, or more specifically wherein any sort of contact was impossible.

Clearly the answer would be found through the most Noble of Kobold Traditions, that of a heist. Usually the bigger people had something to solve any problem. This one was probably no different.

Slight problem though. The ones that usually have unique equipment and interesting solutions would be the most deadly of the type. Adventurers. At least there was a spot in any settlement adventurers would always be found after the sun had set and a kobold was at their most alert.

The tavern.