*Beep.* *Beep.* Beep.*

Dinosaur Hunter wakes. It was a bright start to a new cycle. He arches his back as he squeezed the grogginess out of his systems. He yawned wide, and let the dusty arcade air aerate his insides.

|Your Party's Turn: 0:21|

Oh. Looks like he woke up at the tail end of his tribe's turn. As tempting as it was to return to the comfort of his nest, he had work to do. As the timer runs out, he goes to clearing his bed. It never hurts to keep one's home nice and neat.

| |

He lay on the soft plush carpet as the constant reminder of their Lord's machinations quietened in his mind. His nest had been made from long carpet fibers harvested from the edge of the Middle Reach. It had been given to him after its former occupant had deceased.

|Your Party's Turn: 3:59|

He had to wait a little while until the tribe's turn came back. He dispensed all the anxiety that were now buzzing in his circuits with a sigh. He had a day to take.

The curtain of woven carpet fibers parted as he stepped through his home's exit doorway. The world outside opened up to him, showing the greater chamber his little abode was situated. He stood upon a large irregularly shaped room lit by gentle pinlights. The floor was covered in black linoleum with pink confetti patterns. Creatures like he milled amongst themselves and the inanimate machines; each of them bore unique art upon their wooden shells. The sounds of their electronic chatter could be heard over the idle tunes of the machines.

Before marching on towards his workplace, he looked back to his nest home fondly. It was a mound-shaped house built from spare metal and wood. Thick grey carpet covered it, keeping its inside both warm and quiet.

Dinosaur Hunter walked along his route. It was a well-trodden route with many of his kind going to and fro. The tribe was small enough for him to know most of its members by name. He could spy Jack Climbs perusing the claw machines and prize machines for anything interesting. Pass the Bottle Across the Bar tended to the tall carpet growing in the plant boxes. Michael Avocado herded the newbies around, teaching them the ways of the tribe.

Before he could describe all the people he knew moving about in the tribe chamber, he arrived at his destination. It was a large consolidated space full of various items organized into piles, a supply depot. There was a pile for plush and cloth and another for spare metal; each material was sorted according to their kind.

|Your Party's Turn: 0:09|

He arrived just on time too. He came here first to get some carpet fibers. There were piles of the stuff, sorted according to their color, harvested from a kind of fibrous tall carpet that originated from the Middle Reaches.

| |

He sat down and began picking out the fibers he'd like. A few red ones, perhaps green and some yellow…

"Oi, Dinosaur Hunter," Lethal Chimery called out to him. She tended to the piles of broken machines. A variety of gadgets and tools spread out before her, all easily within reach. She, one-by-one, broke them apart and sorted their components. "What are you making this time?"

"Hmm," electronic beeps sounded in Dinosaur Hunter's throat as he thought. He regarded the lengths of colored fibers in his arms as he thought about the patterns he could make from them. "I don't know, but maybe I'll figure it out once I start."

"Good luck with that," Lethal Chimery bade to him. "We're building up a surplus of spare parts. We should be able to survive a small crisis or two."

He continued his work of picking fibers of his choice from the pile until…

|Your Party's Turn: 3:59|

… the party timer came back. He now had a selection of good quality fibers to use in his work. Almost in lockstep, numerous of his kind stood up to move. They moved in almost every direction, intersecting with another's path at least once.

Dinosaur Hunter left the supply depot with a pile of assorted fibers on his back. He turned to a small worn path leading to various workspaces. This was the Artisan's Sector, and he was coming over to this location with a few buddies. He chatted up with Wilbur's Revenge and Nidal Vagus to get up to speed with news he might have missed.

He separated from his close friends and went to his consolidated workspace. It was a simple space with a metal rod driven into the floor. There was a pile of unused and ruined fibers by the side while a number of unfinished ropes lay by the side.

Dinosaur Hunter sat on his haunches by the metal rod. He gently laid down his assorted fibers into a pile within arm’s reach. He began his work for the cycle. He picked one of the unfinished ropes and continued on it. He was doing good progress on it until he ran out of fibers. It was a beautiful braided rope with fibers of red, orange, and green. He fell into a trance continuing on its weave.

|Your Party’s Turn: 0:10|

The timer continued on its inexorable countdown, but even its passing did not distract him from his weaving.

| |

His hands moved with practiced motions as he weaved the fibers. He held on the colored fibers with such gentleness that even his razor claws did not cut a single one. On and on, he made knots and weaves, until the rope was complete, then another, and another.

He was on his fourth rope when he made a mistake. He pressed too hard on the fiber bunder and his claws clipped the unfinished rope. He picked it up and threw it into a pile of all the failed ropes. It was a significant pile holding all the rejected ropes. He should probably start throwing it out.

He was about to start on another rope when he heard some cheers. It seemed like one of the more famous scouting groups had returned. Dinosaur Hunter thought about taking a break and checking it out.

|Your Party’s Turn: 2:01|

Oh, well. His wrists could take some rest. The loud clamor makes it sound like it’s something important.

Dinosaur Hunter stood from his seat and left the workshop. There seems to be a huge crowd that had formed around the supply depot. The mass of talking and gossiping had rendered all the talking into indistinct noise.

Dinosaur Hunter couldn’t see what was very interesting. People had formed a tight wall around the supply depot and he couldn’t manage a glimpse into whatever was going on inside. He tried standing on his hind legs, but even the extra height didn’t manage to get his eyes a clear view of the situation.

“Hey, Castlevania 2,” he spotted his friend on the edge of the wall. Castlevania 2 turned at his call. “What’s with the excitement?”

“A scouting group just returned to a successful hunt, DH,” Castlevania 2 answered. “They came back with a human.”

*Wow!* Dinosaur Hunter perked up at that answer. Now he was intrigued beyond belief. He, like most of the people of the tribe, had been curious about humans. They had seen depictions of such creatures before, plastered on many cabinets and as characters inside the games. It was difficult to obtain a proper description of them since they’re often depicted in wildly different ways and their anatomy was hardly ever elaborated.

“Hey, GDB,” Castlevania 2 pestered a guy further in. “Have you gotten anything about what the human looks like?”

“Do I look close enough to see it?” Golden Door Bonanza growled.

“No, but did anybody close enough to see send back any talk about it?”

“Not anything substantial. It’s apparently very red like there's still wet dye inside it.”

“Castlevania 2, help me squeeze through,” Dinosaur Hunter said. He tried climbing onto Castlevania 2’s back, but he only tried to put him back down.

“Hey, mate, don’t do that. That’s a bad idea and I don’t like it.”

“Please, Castlevania 2, I really want to see it.”

“So do I, mate. We need all the patience we can get.”

“Guys, can you not squeeze so much? The time’s running out.”

| |

*Beep!* *Boop!* *Game over!* *Stop!*

The crowd suddenly burst into a cacophony of beeps and voicelines as they were locked in place by the Lord’s rule. A few of them tried to scamper out of the press, but they were stuck in place. There was much complaining, especially to those stuck in the middle.

“Well, looks like we’ll get our chance, DH,” Castlevania 2 said.

“What makes you say that?” Dinosaur Hunter asked.

“I think they’ll be spreading as soon the tribe’s turn returns. We’ll be able to get to the front and see the human for ourselves.”

Everyone in the crowd squirmed as they tried to get more comfortable positions to little avail. They were squeezed too tight and the Lord’s rule had overridden any locomotion. Dinosaur Hunter and Castlevania 2 came out rather lightly for being on the edge of the crowd. Those squeezed in the middle were becoming poor piles of limbs and weak beeping. Many had got rather severe scratches on their shells from that ordeal. It was excruciating ten minutes or so before the time so returned to the tribe to start moving again.

|Your Party’s Turn: 3:59|

*Congratulations!* *You win!* *Magnifico!*

The moment the tribe’s turn came about, beeps and voicelines of relief were aired. They spread about, making enough room to make themselves comfortable after that rather uncomfortable waiting. Many retreated from the scene, having their curiosity sated or discouraged by the uncomfortable waiting.

It was the perfect opportunity for Dinosaur Hunter to squeeze through to the front. Though he went against the flow of the crowd, he managed to get close to the front without much difficulty.

It was… an odd sight. He had seen corpses being returned to the tribal chamber before, to be harvested of parts or to be exorcised and extracted of spirit, but this one, it was unlike many bodies he had seen before. It lay there on the carpet, leaking with some sort of dyed oil, sitting on a small puddle of the stuff. Marvelous red dye. He wondered how beautiful would fibers stained with such a color be.

“Excuse me,” Dinosaur Hunter said. “Let me through.” He tried to squeeze in between the people that were still crowding before the human corpse.

“Hey!” The guy in front of him shouted. “You’re scratching me up.”

“I want to touch the human,” Dinosaur Hunter replied.

Humans… weren’t like what he thought they were. They were soft and rubbery under that cloth shell. They weren’t made of wood, paper mache, or metal, but instead of this strange rubbery substance that leaked red dye when cut. How much red dye could they squeeze from this body? What uses could the rubbery stuff have?

“Hey! No touching,” somebody on the scouting group shouted. “Don’t ruin the merchandise.”

“Oh, I’m very sorry, Kill Hill,” Dinosaur Hunter said. “I’m just very curious.”

“I know everyone is, but please keep it relatively intact until the elders come to an agreement,” Kill Hill replied.

“What are their plans for this body?” Dinosaur Hunter asked.

“What part of ‘waiting for them to come to an agreement’ did you not understand?”

“Calm, Kill Hill,” another one on the scouting spoke.

“Oh, Cosmos Trespassers, you’re back. Had they said anything?” Kill Hill asked.

To which Cosmos Trespassers blinked his lights at. “I wish. They had narrowed it down to either exchanging the human whole or by parts.”

“I suppose I could see the merits in both,” somebody in the crowd said.

“They’re arguing on which would exchange for more tokens aren’t they?” Another asked.

And another answered, “Isn’t that why we’re making ropes now instead of just exchanging fibers wholesale?”

Cosmos Trespassers nodded. “Yeah, but this is a human. It could be different. They’re weighing our options. They’re afraid that whatever we do might cheapen the product.”

Dinosaur Hunter had become thoroughly disinterested in the conversation at hand. There was much back and forth between the scouts and the crowd, but he tuned them out and turned his attention to the human body. There was simply… something exquisite about the human body, something that even the living bodies of the creatures born from their Lord. His eyes explored the human, examining the ravaged wounds and openings upon it. He wondered if there was some fiber that they could extract from it. As a weaver, getting some human parts to make ropes from seemed rather exciting.

He was only distracted from his examination when someone beside him asked loudly, “Hey, where’s Desktop Computer 17?”

Now that he thought about it, Desktop Computer 17 was oddly absent. All the other members of the scouting group was here in the supply depot, but not him. Desktop Computer 17 was a shy one, even discounting his nature as a mimic. He doesn’t come out often, and whenever he’s out, he’s always seen with the scouting group. The fact they’re gathered here without him was odd.

Everyone on the scouting group lowered their heads and dimmed their lights.

“He’s dead,” Cosmos Trespassers answered.

“Why didn’t you bring his body back?” Golden Door Bonanza asked.

“It’s less that we didn’t and more that we can’t. The human kicked Desktop Computer 17 onto a cracked floor and he fell into the Old Abyss,” Kill Hill explained.

“Abyss below!” *Beep* *Beep*

The crowd erupted into a shocked clamor. They extended their sympathies to the group. The clamor was suddenly killed by the arrival of the elders. Everyone bowed and offered their respect to them.

The elders stood a head taller than them and sported many scratches and furrows on their shells that had since been puttied and painted over. They were old, old enough to remember a time before the Old Abyss was an abyss and before the voice their Lord had been muted and stolen.

“We have come to an agreement,” elder Lazer Attack boomed. “We will cut the human into parts. We will exchange half of it, and give the other half to the crafters to make what they will with it.”

“We will also prepare,” elder Bolas Action Parade boomed. “Humans have found our Lord. It is our born duty to serve and protect our Lord. This may be the first human, but we know more will come.”

“We must protect our home, our Lord, from these intruders. We must stop them from taking away the voice of our Lord again!”