In the two short days since Rakun the revenant had been finally put to rest, the dungeon had grown. It had begun life as a slap-dash collection of rooms and tunnels, something Sam had built fast and ugly out of sheer necessity to deal with the dangers he faced. Now, with breathing room and the help of some talented kobolds, it was swiftly becoming something more.

The second floor was nearing completion, and housed a half-dozen bunk rooms and a score of small dwellings for families or others who preferred the solitude of their own quarters. Barely a quarter of them were full, but Sam had agreed with the kobolds that it was best to have them available early just in case they were needed in a hurry later on.

The meeting room was also on the second floor. In the beginning any planning sessions had taken place in the mess hall on the first floor, but as more and more mobs were spawned, and those needed to be fed, it soon became apparent that a separate space was needed for meetings with his inner circle and advisors.

It also granted a boon to anyone who remained in it for more than an hour. The Well-Informed buff granted an extra 5% to any essence gains collected in the three hours after the end of the meeting.

Sam and Araxes pushed the wide double-doors open and strode into the room together. The lich took a hard right and skirted around the edge of the room until he found an empty seat at the long oak table that dominated the center of the chamber. The other chairs were filled with the friends and confidants Sam had made over the past week—And lord didn’t it feel weird to realize, again, how short a time it had been.

“Samuel,” Char the kobold said from her seat near the middle of the table. She was a small woman with brilliant orange-and-green scales and wide intelligent eyes. “Are you well?”

“Well enough,” Sam said, taking his seat at the head of the table. “Except now I’m under house-arrest for treason against the crown.”

“What?” That was Sheshek, the kobold shaman and seismage of Char’s people. “Who has done this, and is it possible that they are not in full control of their faculties?”

“Long story, and not the important one right now.” Sam spread his hands out on the table in front of him, feeling the smooth finish over the grain. “We thought we’d have a week or more before Araxesendenak came for us after regenerating. We figured he’d have to send scouts, wait for their return, then marshal the legions and march on us.”

“But now you believe that to have changed,” said Cora, sitting next to Char near the head of the table. “What has happened?”

Briefly Sam went over the conversation with Milthorne, and his suspicions. “It seems likely that not only does Araxesendenak know about us, he knows a lot about us, up to and including our defenses and capabilities.”

“How in the hell did he figure that out?” Sally asked, floating at the foot of the table across from Sam. “Aren’t liches supposed to be completely incapacitated when they’re regenerating?”

“We are,” Araxes said. “This is unprecedented.”

“Given the time frames involved,” Cora said, frowning, “it seems plausible that the lich king’s consciousness was somehow entangled with my own awakening in an unforeseen manner. It could be that it resided within the dungeon somehow during his regeneration, aware but unable to interact in any manner.”

Sam acknowledged her with a nod. “Regardless, we’re going to have to act as if the Lich King knows everything about us up until he regenerated. Which—Araxes, can you give us a firm time on that?”

“The day of the funeral,” Araxes said confidently. “Right about the time we buried the dead. I cannot give an exact time, but that I believe is a reasonable estimation.”

“So everything,” said Chesek, another kobold man who had been a thorn in Sam’s side for most of the last week and was now what Sam thought of as his ‘honored opposition.’

“No, not everything,” said Char, tapping her jaw thoughtfully. “Only what we have used and shown ourselves to possess. He would not know of Sally’s capabilities, nor of her sister’s location. Also, it seems reasonable to assume that anything that happened in the White Room would be beyond his ken as well.”

Sam nodded. That made good sense. The White Room was an extra-dimensional space available only to Core Guardians. If Araxesendenak could see into there… Well, then they had a very very different set of problems to deal with.

“Which means we need to start throwing things together that he won’t know about,” he said. “I’ll be installing new mob generators later today, as well as getting together with Skee,” he nodded at the goblin mechanic down the table, “and his goblins. We’re going to need a whole new set of traps.”

“Music to my ears, boss,” Skee said, smiling a huge gold-toothed smile. Then the smile faltered and he glanced around the table. “Uh, do you mean newer than the stuff we installed after the funeral?”

Sam blinked. “After? I didn’t place anything after the funeral.”

“Well, no, you didn’t. But me and the gobs, well, you know what the description says Chief,” the goblin twitched his long ears and gave another grin. “We like traps. We’ve got a whole slew of new ones put in that—“

“You totally were going to inform me about at some point in time,” Sam said, giving the goblin the fish-eye. He remembered the description on the goblin mob generator. Goblins loved traps, and would build them at any opportunity.

“Yeah. Right. That. Yeah.” Skee nodded, sliding his gaze to the side to avoid Sam’s eye.

“A question,” Sheshek said, raising a claw. “Are we certain that the lich king no longer has access to whatever channel he used to gather information during his supposed regeneration period?”

Everyone at the table blinked, even Araxes.

“Damn,” Sam muttered. “I didn’t even think of that.”

“Can we even protect against something like that?” asked Bugruk from his place near the foot of the table. The orc was in a wheelchair that the goblins had cobbled together for him, both of his legs having been amputated by a falling boulder just below the knee. “We’re saying it has to be something that was caused by the regeneration process glitching out and not something natural to the System, right?”

“Standard spells would be unlikely to detect something that exotic,” Sheshek said, frowning and rubbing his snout thoughtfully. “Likely we would need to find a specialist. And even then I’m not sure I would hold much faith that they could discover the answer.”

“Cora, Sally, you guys have any thoughts on it?” Sam asked, looking down at the two silvery sisters.

“There are diagnostics I can run,” Cora said, frowning. “They will necessarily be focused on my own processes unfortunately and may miss something external to m.”

“And I’m more the ‘kick in the door and blow shit up’ type,” Sally said. Then, after a long pause, she added “But I know someone who might be able to help.”

“Your sister.” Sam didn’t make it a question.

“Yeah. But I’ll be the one who asks her. And don’t try to follow me or be sneaky, got it? I… She’s not good with people yet.”

“Fine. I just need the question answered, I don’t care how you have to get it.” Sam glanced up and down the table. “Any other ideas?”

His question was met by silence. He gave it a three-count, then nodded and continued on.

“Alright, then the next thing I need; Araxes, you’re going to work with Char and Sheshek to figure out the most likely ways Araxesendenak is going to hit us. You’ve got a unique perspective on the way his mind works, after all.”

“Indeed,” Araxes’s voice was somberly ironic. “I can’t guarantee 100% accuracy of course. You people have done a yeoman’s job of subverting my mental processes and bending them to your will, after all.”

“You could have said ‘no’ at any point in the process, Araxes,” Sam pointed out.

“And be confined to this wretched powerless form for all eternity?” The lich snorted. “I would rather drink holy water and wash it down with communion wafers. I will work with the kobolds. Likely I still retain enough of how my other self thinks to at least give you a reasonable strategy.”

“Okay. Get it whipped up—“ He stopped and frowned. “No, on second thought, hold off until Sally has had a chance to talk to her sister. No sense in putting together a defense plan if Araxesendenak can reach in and see it. Sally, how soon?”

“Impatient, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, because we just found out that a lich king with an army and a narc-on is coming to kick our ass so hard it’s gonna blast our breakfast out of our nose. How soon?”

“If I leave now, twenty minutes. Thirty tops.”

“Get moving then.” Sam closed his eyes and composed his thoughts as the core bobbled and started for the door. “And when you’re done, we’ll get on that binding ritual. We’re gonna need every edge we can get.”

“No argument from me, butter-boy.” Sally said with a smirk in her voice. “I’ll wear something sexy.”

Sam sighed as the core bumped open the door and left the room. “You know, if you had asked me a month ago if I thought I was going to get sexually harassed by a sentient dungeon core…”

He turned back to the others and was about to say something more when the message system lit off.

Thrash(Hackmaster): Chief. Trouble coming.

Instantly the whole room came alert. Each of those here were linked into the war channel, and each knew that Thrash was not one to send out unnecessary alerts.

Sam(Dungeon Man): Talk to me.

Thrash(Hackmaster): Lookouts spotted a whole mess of townsfolk running full-steam towards us. Looks like your folks are leading them.

Sam(Dungeon Man): What? Ma, Pop, what’s going on?

No response. That was not good. Either they were too distracted with something to respond, or there was something actively blocking their communication. He came to a snap decision.

Sam(Dungeon Man): Battle stations. Possible threat inbound. All hands, battle stations now.

Sam jumped to his feet with the others, pulling his harness from his inventory and setting it to equip as he turned for the door. Thumb Bane, his war hammer, hung at its customary place on his belt. He never went anywhere unarmed these days.

Sam(Dungeon Man): Details.

Booger(SecondBestGobbo): Oh fuck me running. Chief, you ain’t gonna believe this.

Sam(Dungeon Man): Give me details, now.

Thrash(Hackmaster): Dragon inbound.

Sam(Dungeon Man): … What?

Booger(SecondBestGobbo): Boss, there is a real-live big-ass ‘holy-fuck-everybody-take-cover’ red dragon winging its way down on us and those townsfolk. Sixty seconds out and looking pissed.

Everyone started running.