"How reliable is this info?" the twitchy man asked as he sweated. The duck before them walked off with a small bag of sheathed knives, accepting their tribute.

"Not super reliable," the smaller man admitted as he fiddled with a stone pedestal on the small island in the lake, connected only by the thinnest of paths back to shore. The first man looked at him with a grimace.

"Don't tell me you went to 'Grim's Tales of Woe'?" he begged and the smaller man continued to work on the mechanism, switching the ring from noon sun to dusk. The fake sun in the sky began to sink as the sky turned hues of orange and purples.

As dusk settled in, one of their groups pulled on their rented fishing rods, bringing up a floppy disk that turned out to be just a decorated silver sock with glued on eyes. The member chucked it back with disgust and it seemed to vanish rather than sink.

"The guild got it from the group that reached the second floor 'The Hells of the E-Star' or something. I could only afford some of the puzzle hints," the man working the pedestal continued to speak as the rest of them fished.

"And that was what? Play with unknown dungeon mechanisms and fish in uncharted waters?" the first man grunted.

"No," the smaller one said stiffly.

"It said that 'the path unseen to the second floor can be accessed by either a flash of gold or the dish of silver," he said and there was a pause as the entire group stared at him.

"And there's a device here to make a full moon appear, so we're covering both potentials. A golden fish or full moon could let us skip that cheating first floor boss. It expects perfect teamwork or risking it all to pass and I think we're smarter than that!" the man said as he finally slid the symbols to a full moon image and a beautiful scene of stars poured across the ceiling with streaks of color.

"It's breath-taking," someone said as a massive round moon shimmered into view and reflected on the lake's surface. Someone reeled in another fish and a horrible stench filled the air as an energetic crimson fish hung off the end of the blunted hook.

"Gods, toss it back!" someone wept and the moment the fish went underwater, the smell vanished.

"This place has some unique fish," the tall man, the leader of their little group, muttered.

The lake surface shifted as a single large ripple spread across the lake. The leader was distracted as another group seemed to be heading down their way. It was the scouts, searching for another path and by the way they were arguing about 'the demon mouse' it seemed they hadn't discovered anything. That wasn't good.

No one, no other adventuring group or Fairplay folks, had mentioned this in any of the bars or shared spaces but there was drumming in the walls. A deep primal thundering of distant drums that never stopped.

The leader had hoped they would find out where it was coming from.

The room suddenly darkened and they all stared up as the moon seemed to be vanishing at both ends by the shadows of a massive maw.

"What in the Abyss..." someone said as the lake suddenly heaved as something rose up.

---

The scouts rounded the corner and entered the lake room as the full moon reappeared from behind a dark cloud. They came to a dead stop and stared as instead of seeing their party making progress and discovering the secrets of the Dungeon. There was only a single abandoned fishing rod, rattling to a stop on the island in the middle of the lake

No one from the main group could be seen.

It wasn't until they left the dungeon, stopping to look for their names on that creepy memorial wall on the way out. They returned to the town and were drinking at the bar whentheir missing group members showed up a few hours later. Two of them looked feral with skull helmets and their 'smart' guy was decked out in a feathered-coat and craving the food of the other guests in the bar.

That was when the tale began to spread.

---

'If you conjure the full moon on a still lake. A gateway to the underworld will open. Enter the fleshy fields of combat and choose angels or demons. Play in their war and earn passage. Fail and be washed away. Thus is the tale of the King of the skies and the emperor of the shadows.'

'Fishing rods can be rented from Grim's Tales of Woes guildhall' for a reasonable price. Bait sold separately.'

---

"It's coming!" someone cried as the moon began to vanish and the massive Cat-fish arose, its mouth glowing from the swallowed moonlight. It looked smooth-skinned rather than scaled with two long dragon-like whiskers coming off its face with deep unfathomable eyes.

"Stag Horns! Charge!" their leader cried and they all leapt as one into the massive Cat-fish's maw, while sending up prayers.

---

In another mirror Floor 1

"We've been fishing for three hours! Where is this damn fish?" a woman scowled as she held a massive spear under the full moon. All that group had caught was a silver sleek fish and now a flapping golden fish.

"It was rumored that not every instance activates the same mechanics. It's like the dungeon wants to be unpredictable," one of her men muttered as he held the silver and gold fish close together with a baffled expression.

"Captain, these fish..." he said and she shot him a sharp look, knowing he must have noticed something.

"They have the shape of keys on their bodies," he said, holding them up so they reflected the moonlight, the moment he did, the two fish began to glow. Their shapes shifted and the middle of the lake, beyond the island, began to swirl with a whirlpool, pushing water aside as it laid the lakebed exposed to the moonlight.

In the sand, surrounded by rock and plants was a tunnel rapidly emptying of water that soon began to emit the scent of flowers followed by the sound of a waterfall.

"We discovered another path!" someone cried as they raced over and began to set up a rope to lower themselves into the tunnel.

"Time to see if it tries to flood and kill us," the woman muttered as she followed her group.

---

"On days where the great fish slumbers, two stars come out to play. A silver and gold fish that dance like moonlight. Catching them is a feat of patience and pride. It's also a secret. The lake can offer many paths. The question is, do you have the keys?'

'Grim's Guild sells rope and sensible shoes for traversing rocky tunnels. Sold as a bundle with the fishing rods for a fair price. If a fisher can bring back a key fish as a loot drop. Grim's Guild will nail it to a plaque with your name on it for a fee.'

---

"I feel this is stupid," a bald-headed woman sighed as the other two in the group listened to the regal looking mushroom man instruct them how to weave their pots together with 'dreams and honor'.

"Less talking and more passion," her comrade chided as he made a lovely flowerpot. Soon, all three of them had basic but usable pots. They were nice and maybe she would send it back to her mother back home. Her mum enjoyed fresh flowers in pots. The friendly mushroom walked off and the woman sighed, using her new pot to collect water from the lake to boil.

She blinked as a splash of gold leapt into her pot with almost celebration and swam happily in the water with its key-shaped mark clear on its side.

Quickly, the group tried to use their other pots to lure in the silver fish but it seemed uninterested in their vase-like pots.

The bald-woman quickly got to work and made something that could have been an earthen basin or a massive pan out of the mud and water, using the techniques from the regal mushroom.

The silver fish was drawn to the pan like a fish... to a frying pan.

The tale of the lake grew.

The wise mushroom man could teach people to make alluring arts.

The woman really did end up sending the vase back home. She crudely carved a key inside a heart on it. The meaning was lost on her mother but was still dearly beloved by the woman.

---

A tankard of ale slammed down as the goblin boss and a bear of a man tried to out drink each other in the Goblin Bar. It was quickly becoming a hang-out spot for the more experienced adventurers who could handle the constant pressure of the floor's Mana.

It turned out that if they just asked to go to the bar, the Dungeon didn't take them off into groups and sent an escort.

"If I win, you all need to come back and give me a proper challenge, but what do you want?" Fran slurred as Bacon let out a noxious fart that the bartender fanned away grumpily.

"Your helmet," another one of the men said quickly, sticking to soda.

Fran seemed amused and accepted, but despite his strength, his power to hold his drink was not actually that great.

The helmet was won and the adventurers returned the next day to beat Fran, barely and moved through to the second floor. Where they found the keys needed to reach the point where very few adventurers ever passed.

The second floor boss room was filled with mist and just as the shadow of the 'Tree of Pain' formed, they held up Fran's helmet in offering.

Even after a day, Fran's musky scent was still coming off it, indicating it was given, not dropped as a loot item.

"Is that..." the tree woman said slowly.

"The helmet of Sir Fran, earned in a friendly match," the leader said and the tree swooped down, all smiles and dimples.

"And you would give me... this treasure?" she purred.

"We would even regale you of the tale of our battle, how Sir Fran charged into the arena like a hero and what he said," a slimmer boy said, adding to the deal. The tree took the helmet and let out a sound like a demonic chortle.

"Tell me... tell me of the rippling muscles of my knight. Spare no details. I want to hear about every drop of sweat, every time he broke your bones and crushed your dreams then you may pass!" she ordered and hugged the helmet to her chest.

Thus the tale spread.

---

"On the second floor, a demon of pain and cruelty can be harrowing to fight but like all curses, the tale of true love can break it. Bring this tree an offering of a knight upon his mighty swine and you may have a chance to pass her wicked thorns. Be warned, that if your tale does not contain copious amounts of flexing, you may lack content to pass.'

'Grim's Guild sells artist renditions of Sir Fran along with actual mugs he's drunk from! These cost a fortune to buy. These increase your chance of not getting splinters in unsightly places.' Bed-length cushions for the body are in development.'

---

"We are ready!" the members of the healer-only group cried as they charged into the third floor boss room with their staves raised. As a group they were treated like a joke since they struggled to clear dungeons but this dungeon was allowing them to fulfill their dreams of a healer only run!

The Healies had challenged Fran, finding him hard but not crushing!

Wyin the Demon of Pain just choked in laughter until she passed out, which they took as a win. They did cast healing magic on her in case she had hurt her throat before they left.

"We are prepared to lose but will avoid it as best we can!" Daffodil Blue said as she was backed up by Star Child, Warm Duvet, and their newest member, Skull Cracker.

They were still working on the orc's healer name. It was like a fun healer name to take the burden off people screaming for them to 'do their jobs' and heal them of their thoroughly avoidable damage.

The massive throne room was empty except for a small bubbling creature moving across the floor under a skull.

They gathered around it and the little guy bubbled up at them with a wave of a tendril made from its body.

"Aw, you're adorable. Here, I brought a magic talisman to help strangers," Daffodil Blue said and put a sticker of a happy cat with the words 'Purrfect' under it on the forehead of the little guy.

"I no crush your skull. I salute your WARRIOR PASSION AND WILL TO BE KING OF THIS REALM!" Skull Crusher raged then settled down.

"That's the spell 'Inspiring Word'!" someone praised and all the Healies applauded for Skull Crusher who looked shyly down at their feet.

"Isn't that a bard thing?" Star Child wondered.

"It heals emotions, we can claim it," someone else argued.

At their feet, the little slime glowed and put a coin in each of their pockets without their notice.

---

"On the third floor... people seem to keep being defeated by different things. The tale is hard to pin down as it could be a harmless slime or a dragon of eldritch nightmares. So far, only healers have any chance and we've now seen an uptick of class changes. The healthcare system is booming!"

'Grim's Guild does not offer insurance for adventurers as the lot of you are risky and idiotic. If the owner wished to throw his money away, he would at least throw his coins at people he didn't like'.

---

The inside of the beast of the lake was a mess of wrecks and ruin.

The fearful bird with a weird crown screamed at two adventurers as a smaller demure seagull spoke in common.

"The king would be willing to allow you to keep your eyes if you serve in this war of ours. Your rewards will be grand!" the little black seagull said wisely. The two adventurers shared a look.

"Like... What kind of treasures?" one asked. The king gestured to a plate covered in half-chewed chicken bones. Another reward was a heap of ruined pants. The rewards went on in this vein with food, a massive nest, broken egg shells, blood-covered weapons of those who decided to attack rather than serve, and a dozen left-footed boots.

"The heavenly treasures of our kind," the seagull proclaimed.

"What about those?" the other adventurer pointed to a pile of gleaming gems and jewel-encrusted vases.

"You want... those?" the translator spoke for the king, conveying his weirded out tone.

"Yes!" the said eagerly.

King Trashlover stared as the hairless primates danced and hoarded the shiny rocks that would do nothing for them. Not protective feathers or food that could heal wounds or the boots that could increase their speed?

The king waved one wing.

The strange people would have their shiny rocks.

They would serve for their pretty pebbles.

Down in the depth, two other adventurers, who had been separated in the transition from the lake room, sat around a blue bonfire as the hidden base moved with dozens of armored formations.

"You are anointed! Your soft skins and thumbs are gifts of the goddess. You arrived here by great providence!" a pale white isopod spoke for the menacing emperor above.

"We paint you in sludge on the ground, we mark you with the rust of the vessels, and we grant you a symbol of power," the little guy chittered as two larger creatures placed a piece of pleon, a segment of their armor, atop of their head like crowns.

"You are now bottom feeders. You are now squiggly polys of the shadows. You are evolved!" the translator cried and the base was filled with chittering.

"But we get the chest of gold, right?" one spoke up.

"The box of metal that tastes bad, yes that is yours," the emperor said and was translated with amusement. After all, the two had rejected the sludge piles, the fetching seaweed togas, the wrecked armor of those who refused to serve, and the massive pile of boots that would only go on their right feet.

With excitement, they were given their tasks and sent out to a central platform where they stared in shock at their teammates emerging down a ramp covered in grease and feathers.

"Uh... the birds had jewels," one said, embarrassed.

"The bugs have gold," the other side muttered.

"FIGHT!" The translators cried and threw weapons on the platform. Confused, each adventurer picked up a pole with two rounded ends that was made of a strange padded material. The bird warriors had white clubs and the isopods had black.

"What are these going to- OW!" one of them said as a black club hit him in the chest and knocked him back a few feet.

"That's for snoring all night!" the attacker said with a grin. The smile was wiped off as he was hit in the face and landed on his rear.

"I would hit you for some coin, friend, so a whole bunch of jewels? I could go all night," his teammate beamed.

"I HAVE NO REASON, I JUST LIKE HITTING PEOPLE!" the second isopod warrior cried and charged.

The Para-Mercenaries and Sea Gulf Warriors let out the cries of their people as the battle went under.

This was only the first round!

Next up with the obstacle course and then the seaweed ball race.

---

Wyin stared at the haggard adventurers.

"We've laid offerings at all your groves and humbly ask that you let us pass," they said and Wyin reached out, finding a little bit of desperation and belief in her new groves.

It was so nice she could only nod in surprise.

"It begs belief, but you actually found them all," she said in utter surprise.

"Will you be soft?" a man asked, looking hopeful if a bit delirious.

"Does your mini-map look like a hundred hours of pointless markers?" she asked huffily, not even sure why Delta's memories made that image pop up...

"No?" someone said.

"Then scram before I change the genre to soulsborn," she warned and the group rushed past in a panic.

"She was cute," Wyin heard one of them mutter. She rolled her eyes.

"You're courting death if you go after her," was the response.

Now that made her heart flutter.

---

The Tale spread.