Dungeon Keeper (LitRPG/Monster Evolve)

[Chaperone]

By the fourth stamp, the hero's screams had stopped.

The demon didn't. Up, down, up, down. Its hooves beat as it danced a jig. Crushing armour, bones and organs. It was sadistically overkill.

And Moss was delighted.

He watched as the demon legion descended on the raiding party, ambushing them amongst the fungal foliage of the dungeon's third floor. He'd seen slaughters before - this was more like a cull.

The shrooms' bright glow was dull beneath a red layer. Gore and sinew dripped off their bell heads. Blood flowed through the mossy ground.

This is going so well, Moss thought to himself.

I'll wait until the end. Perfectly hidden from all danger until my treasure is ready for reaping.

"What in Hell's wet dream is that?" A LesserDemon pointed their spear at Moss. Flaming goat nostrils twitched, sniffing him aggressively.

He shrivelled back in fear.

Its comrade, facing the other way, also tasted the air. "Holy aura. Thick and nasty. There must be Clerics in the party."

With a fiery arm, he spun her to point out the keeper.

She scoffed. "It's nothing. Barely a critter."

Even critters have feelings.

"Can I kill it?" He asked.

"It'll die from a falling twig. Come. There is real blood to taste."

They leapt into the skirmish. Joining the other dungeon protectors and leaving Moss to tremble in fear - and anger. His tiny claws wrapped around the stem of a mushroom, shaking it with all his might.

The head barely shivered, causing his rage to boil over.

Nobody cares if you're the king when all you rule are the maggots. The bottom feeders. Dead lickers. Well, what if my grubs went away? Missed a shift or two. What happens when the bodies pile up? Block the corridors, and pollute the waters. When HolyRelics taint the very air they breathe. Then they'd see how crucial our role in the dungeon is. They'd finally see the gleam in my crown.

First, he had to claim it. Save his scrips and work hard to ascend the final ranks. For the keeper wasn't quite a King or Queen… or Orderer. Hell's bells, he wasn't even the team leader of his own chaingang. But he knew his worth and the value of his race. Only a few bodies and the dungeon's monsters would recognise them all. With a crown stitched upon his cloth, it'd be far simpler.

He only needed a few more bodies and the riches they brought him.

And here they come.

The final charge was playing out. Demons and heroes rushed forward, screaming war cries and activating their abilities. Fire pummeled into golden armour. Metal clanged and sparked. The raiders were faltering and becoming desperate.

At the rear stood a giant man. Clad in HolyRelics, the hero lifted his warhammer high and yelled.

He must have the strength of a DemonLord, Moss thought. For the weapon's end was a boulder of pure metal. And his raiders snapped into place at his command. Towershields banged together, overlapping to cut off the legion's advance. They formed a wall around an elven woman wrapped in HardWood. Her frame was lacking, yet she oozed power. As she whispered into her staff, a green glow pulsed from its emerald end.

She started to float, the air around her warped and buzzed with the Flow. Beneath the legion, vines and roots started to poke through the floor. Growing and expanding with each flicker of the candle.

A war horn blew amongst the monsters, summoning a ScaleDemon to the frontline. The legion started to stamp their hooves at its approach. It would take seven keepers standing on each other's shoulders to reach the curving horns of a normal demon. This behemoth was at least ten keepers tall. Clad in thick armour, the legion parted to let the brute through. Lessers reached out to touch it with flaming hands. Dimming the red blaze on their claws and igniting the glow beneath their plate armour.

A demon stepped in its path. "A glorious end!" It yelled. "A glor-"

Its hooves crushed the lesser.

Invigorated, the legion took up the chant.

"A glorious end! A glorious end!" They echoed.

By the time the ScaleDemon reached the frontline, it was a blaze.

Moss assumed it would charge straight through the wall. But it's bulk hit the first shield and flopped over. Like an anvil dropped on a tomato, the dwarf popped. Then,

Boom!

The keeper was swept back into the fungal foliage. Grit and dirt pummelled him, tearing at his simple cloth cloak. He crawled out to find body parts raining down on the trench. A falling twig wouldn't harm a keeper. But a girthy dwarven leg wrapped in armour was a different tale. With a groan, he managed to get himself in the shadow of a toadstool. One of the hut-sized shrooms that the GreatToads would lounge on.

He saw the elven woman fall with the loss of her defence. Her staff cracked loudly as it hit the floor. Causing the green aura to explode out in a wave. As it washed over the roots, they writhed in madness. Attacking anything nearby. Including Moss.

They wrapped around his legs, tearing skin. The keeper's meagre claws slashed them away. Barely clearing the area in time to save his life.

Bits of mushroom suddenly sprayed him as a body crashed through his shelter.

It was a dwarf. Well, part of a dwarf. Its lower half was completely gone. Its face was partly melted away, exposing teeth and bone. On its good side, an eye opened.

"Fucking monster scum!" The dwarf spat out, blood spurting from his mouth. "I'll use your cloak to wipe my shit hole!"

In Moss's shock, he tried to point out the hero no longer had one. But only a whimper escaped his hood. The dwarf slammed his visor shut and started to crawl towards him. His gauntlets dug into the soft mud, dragging his body forward on powerful arms.

The keeper had nowhere to go. Vines still danced in their spastic throes in every direction. The trunk of the Toad stool was a short climb, but its cap blocked him from getting any higher. And with every flicker, the armoured hero grew closer.

Panic took a hold of him as he screamed for help. Straining his voice to be heard over the victory cries of the legion.

Before all was lost, before the dwarf reached him.

Two demons halted nearby.

"Pools be praised!" Moss cried with joy at the sight of his saviours.

"Fuck the dungeon Core." A Lesser said.

The other dropped into a squat with a sadistic grin. "Three scrips says the dwarf chokes him."

"Nah, it'll cave his head in." His comrade replied.

They banged weapons, sealing the deal.

Moss couldn't think. He'd worked so hard for so long. Only to lose it all with one stupid gamble.

The keeper kicked out, smacking the dwarf's head and arms. It roared with fury, causing their audience to shout with glee. More legionnaires joined to watch his end.

The hero snatched his ankle. Yanking him closer.

"Got you.. now." The dwarf gurgled.

He pulled himself on top. Blood flowed over the keeper's face. In the river of red, Moss could barely see the fist raised high.

"Told you!" The demon yelled.

This is it. All for nothing. Back to the start.

Thud.

It hit his chest like a heavyweight. A bolt of pain shot through his body.

Barely able to stay conscious. All he could do was tense up as death pursed her lips at him.

"That's boring." A demon said.

Moss wiped his face, clearing the blood from his vision.

The dwarf was dead. Crushing him with his fat, armoured body.

"Help me." Moss whimpered.

But his blaspheming 'protectors' were already gone.

Please, Pools, lend me the strength and I'll repay you.

He prayed to his dungeon Core. But no matter how hard he clawed at the ground, he couldn't move from under the hero.

Exhausted, the keeper gave up.

A scrambling noise woke him. The trenches were still hazy from demon fire. But Moss could make out the midnight blue cloth of his creed amongst the dead. It scuttled around, only stopping briefly here and there. A small breeze momentarily lifted the smog, revealing the small monster. Crimson eyes sat in an endless shadow beneath its hood. The sack, they called a cloak, covered everything except the bone white claws and feet of the grub. It was a fellow keeper.

Has the graveyard shift already been called? No, I would have heard Ombay's call.

He tried to shout out for help, but his throat was still raw from the smoke. A painful gasp was all he could manage.

The other keeper moved. Moss hoped he'd somehow heard him. But then the small monster leapt back from a mound of bodies. A single corpse shifted and rose.

Their commander lives? Pools will have the demons lashed for such a mistake.

His golden armour was seamered in red. The metal plates, cracked and broken. The giant man stumbled to a knee, yet his might was plain to see.

Moss bid the other keeper a good death, for their kind weren't built for battle.

The keeper looked for an escape. Stepping the heros grasped and climbing the mound of bodies. He used a weapon's handle to hoist himself up to the top.

Then it all moved. The entire pile shook as the commander's warhammer was pulled free.

Muck the bedroll.

Moss couldn't believe his eyes. The giant boulder of metal hovered over the keeper's hood, dwarfing his tiny body. Yet his skinny claws held the weapon without strain - like it was made of nothing but SoftWood and paper.

The commander cried out as it fell. Crushing his head and spraying the ground with his death.

That's no keeper. We would never fight a hero, or consider lifting a weapon that heavy. But what kind of monster would dress like a brother of the cloth? Is it a fiend?

Moss considered the wild monsters that haunted the shadows of the dungeon. Living nightmares that den mothers warned their younglings about if they wandered into the mists of the Watcher's Woods, or the depths of the Fungal Trench.

A gentle breeze wafted smoke across the battlefield. Obscuring Moss's vision.

He thanked Pools for his damaged throat. For after a few flickers, he saw the glint of gold as the other keeper found his prize.

Graverobber.

Mirroring what Moss had come here to do. Except that 'keeper' was seeking a different, more forbidden, prize - the HolyRelics.

After the candle's wax had burnt for a while, Moss saw no more movement. No more shining gold. The graverobber had what he wanted and disappeared into the fog of war.

Moss let out the groan he'd been holding and smacked the dwarf's head.

But why hadn't they come over for this treasure?

The keeper sat up with sudden realisation. The golden helm gleamed in the torchlight. Its pauldrons, gauntlets and chest pieces were intricately decorated with shapes and symbols.

But Moss was more interested in the grooves of the artwork. Where the craftsman's blade had nicked the golden outer layer. Revealing the common BlancMetal beneath.

Cheap bastard. No wonder they lost the battle.

With giddiness, Moss yanked off the dwarf's helmet and tossed it away. No Holy aura burned him. He tousled and wrestled the hero's body around. Allowing him to pull the arms back and prize the gauntlets free. Now with the actual treasure exposed the keeper could begin his profession. His claws sank into the dead flesh, releasing the venom contained within. It worked quickly thanks to Moss's improved stats. Circulating the fat body and relaxing the muscles to a more malleable state.

From within Moss's hood, he unleashed his greatest tool. A large pink tongue. It licked the Dwarf's body, plastering the flesh and armour with an adhesive substance. It's the first ability all keepers are born with. Lick.

Lick has increased to level 10

Lick has increased to Cloth rank

New ability unlocked: BodyBoulder

The deep voice said in his head. Moss noted his usual grumpy tone hadn't changed. Doesn't he know this is a moment for celebration?

He tried to whoop with joy, having forgotten his throat was a ruin, and instead made a noise like a mating HareHound.

Invigorated at unlocking a new ability. The keeper started to fold the dwarf together. He manipulated the, now loose, body into a small sphere. Sticking it all together with his tongue.

In the past, other dungeon dwellers had commented that they'd seen small black beetles do a similar thing with dung. They then went on to say some horrible things about keepers. Moss hadn't listened. He was used to the abuse his race received from… everyone.

Within a few flickers, he'd rolled the dwarf off his body. His legs weren't working. The bones, likely crushed, screamed in agony. He tried to wiggle his toes and couldn't move them a moth's wing.

Oh, Pools no. Anything but this.

It killed Moss to have to do this. But he pulled a small, minuscule, red vial from his cloak. It contained a few droplets of health potion that he swigged back. The healing elixir partially fixed his wounds and soothed the pain. It did little to relieve the emotional damage of using such an expensive potion. That was a lot of shifts' worth of scrips.

Exhausted and limping. The keeper headed back to the Grotto and away from any potential danger. The graverobbing fiend wouldn't want a witness to their crimes. And if he can kill a hero, he could tear Moss like wet parchment.

It was a king's wealth he'd just abandoned. The thought plagued him to his bedroll. An army of bodies, just lying there, waiting for his tongue. But his ambition was crushed by fear. Death was common in the dungeon. For heroes, demons and dwellers. All monsters died, except Moss.

He'd worked too hard to lose it now. His stats. His rank.

Plus, the bitter humiliation when his chainmates found his remains beneath the fat dwarf's embrace. Hero lover, they'd call him. Dwarf diddler. Everything but friend.

The keeper stumbled into his hovel. Nestled deep within the dungeon, far from any raider group or demon legion.

I just need the stitchless cloth on my back and belief in myself.

And I'll become as strong as that graverobber.

Then they'll see a grub become king.

 

[Chaperone]

Ombay's roar smashed the hovel's door open. Sweeping through the hovel to wake the keepers. The WindDragon's call had travelled all the way from the Core to spread the news - the raiders have been defeated.

It also brought in a flurry of parchment that billowed around the small room like a snow storm.

Moss groaned in his bedroll. He felt like an OgreBear had rolled over him throughout the night. Leaving his body aching and sore.

Exhausted, he struggled out of his bunk.

Usually he'd be excited, since the call marked the start of his graveyard shift. But right now he needed sleep - which would mean missing his shift and the last thing Moss would do. So he had to spend more scrips on a potion.

Banish me. I better hit the vendors before it gets busy.

Moss grabbed one of the parchments that had settled.

'Rogue monsters hurt ALL dwellers. Report shady behaviour this shift.' Pool's axiom #2432 - Herald of Truth

The grand raiding party from the Dwarven Kingdom of Mons Bachilum was smashed this shift by the ever inspiring DemonLegions…

He tossed it away, not wanting to think about yestershift. Which had left him poor and miserable. Then he remembered his new ability. BodyBoulder.

The keeper suddenly felt a rush as he considered ways to use it.

My Flows finally changing. I'm going to make all my scrips back and more.

"Shifts on keepers, let's get to work." Moss yelled to his chainmates who shared his hovel.

"Fuck off." Snapped Franc. The faded keeper grumbled as he pulled his bedroll around him.

Moss scoffed. "There's no need for Holy words, Franc."

"Suck my cloth you little goblin."

I thought more seasons matures the monster. He's got loads of frayed threads and acts like a clawless youngling.

Pittons, their other hovel mate, was already awake and facing the wall, whispering to himself. He turned in his stitched cloth, a wild grin beneath his hood. "So much to do, Moss. Reapers never stop, do we?"

Reapers?

"Not even when we're dead." Moss replied, half joking.

Pittons shook his head. "No, no. She lets us rest then." He whispered into the wall once again.

The keeper looked over Pitton's cloak again. Noticing it was more stitches than blue cloth now. He's spent far too long in the wells. Those madd voices are getting louder each time. Which reminds me.

Stats please.

Moss spoke to the voice in his head. This wasn't the maddness that Pittons suffered from, but a connection through the Flow to his Chronicler. A monster in the lower floors whose job it was to record a dweller's progress. A very helpful role for progressing monsters on their journey to improve and grow. In theory.

Moss's Chronicler had a different approach.



I'm not doing this anymore. I can't. I won't. It doesn't matter

My stats please. Moss requested again.

No! I'm sick of repeating these terrible numbers. They're pathetic. Why did I get assigned to a Keeper? Why not a DemonLord or a BansheeLock? Why-

My stats, please! I have to go to work. Moss interrupted him.

This is the last time. I'm done. I'm rutting done. Pools help me.



Moss - Keeper - Rank 33

Health - 10/10

Mana - 33/33

[Ability]

Lick - 10 (Cloth)

VenomClaw - 8

BodyBoulder - 1

[Conditions]

Maddness - 7



Why is my maddness creeping up? I haven't got a stitch on me.

No answer came.

"Meeting by the GreatToad in a quarter candle or it's a lashing to the death!" Shouted Stew, their appointed Orderer.

Moss knew how many bodies littered the trenches. This was his chance to use his new ability. But he needed a potion first. He knew Stew was desperate to use that lash on him.

Why do all Orderer's hate their best workers?

Having wasted too much wax already, he raced out onto the muddy pathways of the Grotto. And into a sea of blue clothed keepers. They surrounded him. Stumbling to work with less enthusiasm than a virgin at a cult gathering. Wherever Moss looked their slumped hoods were, blocking every winding path around the hovel huts.

These bulged like mounds of minotaur dung, consuming the cave they lived in. This impeded any efficient route that would have been useful to a monster in a hurry.

Not only did keepers not have the wisdom to design a decent living arrangement. They also didn't have the strength to build anything of significance. This was recently proven after a raider, with a giant axe and a fetish for making dwellers homeless, got lost on her way to the Sixth floor. She destroyed all the hovels and took out most of the Keepers as well. Giving them all a fresh stitch and bottom rank. But not Moss. He'd hidden himself behind the waterfall at the back of the cave. It fed a grimy stream that keepers drank from.

Moss plunged into that cold water now, using it to bypass the crowd and get out. It soaked his cloak and reminded him of that chaotic raider, and the frustration he felt after discovering Kai had survived as well. He couldn't think about his competition right now, he had to move.

As he reached the cave mouth, he climbed out of the stream before it plunged him over the edge.

The Fifth floor opened up before him - the Watcher's woods.

Rolling mists billowed amongst massive trees that grew like towers for giants. Torch lights burned on the intertwining platforms and bridges that connected them and made up the Village. His first stop of the shift.

The keeper had to slow himself down as he crossed the old rope bridge. Missing planks, rotten wood and questionable knots carried him from the Grotto across a long drop to the closet platform.

When I'm key keeper, I'll have this bridge fixed and ready for-

A figure, falling from the sky, shot by him.

"I'm doneeeee!" They screamed, until the fog beneath consumed them.

Moss, with a death grip, peered over the edge. But saw nothing but swirling white clouds.

"Where the Hells had they come from?" He said aloud. Before looking back towards the cave and up the cliff face. Through the thick mists, he thought he could see the edge of a… platform?

No, not happening. I can't be figuring out random dungeon riddles this shift.

Dwellers always see strange shapes and happenings when they stare too long. Best not to look at all.

Just as the bridge began to tremble with keepers, Moss reached the platform. Unlike their hovels, these were solid constructions. Built from the same HardWood they were attached to, the platforms supported houses, markets, businesses and more. Sections of the GreatTrees were hollowed out for staircases or rooms. One tree housed the entire Furry population. Its platforms were swarmed with their litters, which made it a no go zone for keepers. They were more likely to be eaten there than anywhere else in the dungeon.

Moss found the potion vendor. Their SnailWagon was parked at the edge of the platform, with a stall extending from its shell.

The kobold merchant was haggling with two HowlerBears. Their massive forms and dark fur were sleek with oil and honey from working their shift at the NectarHives.

Moss stood behind them, a few steps back so as not to get crushed. HowlerBears were fairly passive, yet lumbering beasts. Moss would have to stand on five other keepers to reach their heads.

As he waited, a Furry stepped in front of him,

Large bat-like ears twitched on the gremlin monster, reacting as Moss coughed.

Banish me. I need to go.

The other keepers were starting to reach him now.

He didn't dare cough again. Furrys were always hungry and saw any movement as prey. They only reached the HowlerBears hips, but three keepers could fit in their mouths. And one nibble could end Moss's dreams.

The cue moved. Moss closed the distance. Then glittering dust rained down on him.

"Trix was an absolute fiend last night. I can't believe the Minor's Quarter keeps letting her back in." A Fairy said to another as they cut Moss off.

Her companion rolled her eyes. "Oh I've seen her work there. Like a succubus in a Holy orphanage."

"Excuse me." The keeper whispered.

Their laughter drowned out his words.

"I heard she was snorting her own dust and MoonSugar. Vile mix."

"Excuse me." He said a little louder.

He could see the last brothers of cloth passing him now.

I'm going to be late. Stew's going to last all my hard work away and he'll love every rutting flicker of it.

"She'll be feeling cursed this shift. I doubt she has the scrips for a red potion."

"If the rumours are true, then she'll be needing a HighGrade."

"What?"

"Yep, went back to Seb's nest with his harem. All those RatKin wives and he still can't get enough of our shine." The Fairy said with a sob.

"Oh darling, I'm sorry. Rodents are such HellHoles."

"Excuse me!" Moss yelled.

The Fairy's, floating in the air, looked around for the voice before spotting the little Keeper. One flew back in disgust, while the other swooped down and slapped him across the face.

"Be quiet you little grub." She snapped. "You're upsetting my friend."

Pain and anger flooded Moss. He wanted to slash at them, but they were too high up. And his face hurt from the meagre slap, which would have cut his health in half.

He squeezed his claws tight, holding his tongue so as not to make the situation worse.

A dark shadow engulfed him.

"Is this maggot bothering you?" A deep voice boomed.

A gnoll stood over him. Its claws extended out, growing longer than the keeper's arms. Scars marked the fur on its bulging muscles, speaking of many deaths while enforcing order in the dungeon. Though you couldn't have guessed from its polish leather armour. Not a mark or crack on it. A single piece was worth more than Moss's entire chain made in a season.

She turned her nose up at the gnoll. Disgusted that she had to deal with a dungeon guard, a common reaction amongst dwellers.

"Obviously." She scoffed. "For Pool's sake, do your job and squash it."

The fairies dismissed the keeper to his fate without a glance, their scowls melting away as the merchant became free.

Moss scampered. His little clawed feet scraped at the wooden beams as he made for the Grotto.

A sharp pain shot through his back as the gnoll grabbed him, lifting him like a pup by the cloth.

The keeper cried out as the thin fabric tore. But the guard took no notice. It brought him to the edge of the platform and dangled him over the side.

"Look." The gnoll commanded.

Moss, trembling from pain and fear, managed to open his eyes. The fall was certain death. But the fog meant no other keeper would look for him and find his remains for the wells. This execution would be a true death.

"I'm sorry." He whimpered. "I won't do it again."

A growl came, shaking him further. His little heart pounded and threatened to burst.

"You do not see." The guard stated. "Down there is where you belong, grub. With the mud and muck. It is only by Pool's word you are allowed amongst us. A gift to your kind."

"Thank you, Pools." Moss mumbled out. "I'll be a good keeper from now on, I swear by my cloth."

"No." The gnoll barked. "You must be better."

His vision was replaced by wood as the gnoll carried him across the platform, towards the GreatTree. Metal lanterns, containing LightCrystals, dangled from metal hooks in its bark.

The gnoll hung him from an empty one.

"Critters witness the world without getting in its way. They know their place. Stay here until you have learnt yours."

With that, the guard left. Moss tried not to wriggle, he wasn't worried the guard would keep watching him, gnolls rarely paid keepers any attention. He was more concerned with tearing his cloak further. It was already causing him great agony. But if he listened to the enforcer and hung around, he wasn't going to survive this shift.

Dwellers passed beneath him. His foot brushed the head of a HowlerBear. Tiny eyes regarded him suspiciously before it shook its great head and trudged on. Moss didn't have the claws to ask it for help.

"You deserve this." A familiar voice said.

Moss turned to find Franc watching him, his chainmate shook her head and walked off.

"Wait, Franc. Help me, please."

Then another blue shape passed by.

"Pittons."

His chainmate didn't stop.

"Pittons, it's Moss. Up here."

His hood spun around several times before finding him dangling above.

"Are you real?" Pittons asked.

"Yes, of course. Listen, we're going to be late to our shift. Which means a lashing to the death. Help me down and I'll show you my shortcut."

"I'm not going."

"What? But you'll die and get another stitch. We've got bodies to clear and brothers to revive."

"Those aren't our brothers, they're all bullies and.."

"And what?"

"And maybe I like getting lashed."

"Wet my claws, not this again."

"Don't shame me! The faes said it's completely normal."

"They're all witches, Pittons. They'll say anything to dust your nose and suck out your soul."

"Reapers don't have souls, Moss. The voices told me that." Pittons pulled his hood down and started to whisper again. 'They're the only ones that love me."

Moss felt like he was hanging over the platform again, the panic rising in him like a wild spell gone wrong.

I can't do anything up here, but 'witness' as my hard work comes to an end.

Moss watched other dwellers mill by, mostly ignoring them. Others gave Pittons a wide birth after hearing his whispering. A madd monster wasn't necessarily dangerous, but it was good to avoid them.

Leaving him all alone, with no one to help him. Just like me.

"Pittons. Help me down and I'll lash you whenever you want."

"Until the voices stop?" His chainmate asked. "When I'm dead."

Moss had never killed another monster before, that was the opposite of a keeper's role and illegal in the dungeon. But he would lie.

"Sure, but I thought you loved them?"

"I do." Pittons said, clawing his way up the tree. "Only in death are we truly welcome. That's what they tell me."

With the stitched keepers help, Moss was able to get off the hook and climb down. Pittons chose to simply drop.

The small fall broke his skinny legs.

A low moan escaped his hood.

"Now, Moss." He cooed. "Kill me now."

But Moss was already running. "Sorry, maybe later."

At full pelt he ran through the Village. Dodging dwellers on the platforms, hopping the planks over the bridges and racing up the inner staircases.

A large gap blocked his route. Using a vine that dangled from the mists above, he swung across. Buying himself a few flickers of the candle. Moss landed in an attempted roll - that was more like a tumble. He skirted around a trunk and charged straight into Furry.

This one was particularly haggard and chain smoking ebonys. "Francy boo! You were meant to watch the kids last night!" Purry the furry shouted between puffs on her black death stick.

"Bloody monsterist." Moss mumbled to himself before shouting back over his shoulder. "My cloak is wizard blue, while rutt boy Franc's is midnight."

"I can't see colour, you little maggot! Tell Franc he better be home for dinner or I'll eat him! And not how he likes-"

But Moss had already sprinted over a swinging bridge and through GaDivers shop door.

 

[Chaperone]

'Divine birds use Holy words. Report hero lovers this shift.' Pool's axiom #102 - Herald of Truth



"Oi! Stores closed! Didn't you see the sign?" The HowlerMonkey yelled from a hammock overhead. His cluttered store made up the inside of a hollowed tree trunk, mostly displaying common items made of BlancMetal or HardWood. So the kind of junk Moss would toss in his rubbish bag of holding. But there were a few Greater items amongst the common muck, like some Twilight fairy wings which GaDiver was currently grinding into a fine powder.

"Sorry, I'm a little late for my Graveyard Shift." Moss told him.

"Oh! A keeper, finally! Place is a right mess, tidy it up would ya." GaDiver said while dabbing at his pestle and rubbing his gums eagerly.

Moss puffed his tiny chest out with pride. "Dives, Keepers don't clean. We maintain order in the dungeon. Recovering the fallen cores of our brothers from the battlefield, and depositing them in Pool's wells to rejuvenate our ranks. We remove the corpses of our enemies, ensuring their disgusting holy magics can't taint our Flow. We are the keepers of balance."

"Sounds like you clean stuff. My muckhole out back is blocked, go check it after you've 'balanced' my shopfloor."

Moss's pride crumbled immediately. "Come on Dives, I'm late for my shift. Can I please go through your attic to the next floor?"

"Fine, but give us a lick before you go." He winked with a glossy yellow eye.

Moss was taken back by the sudden change in tone. "Dives… I'm not going to lick-"

A window cracked in the wind, making the keeper jump.

"Just my loose window shutter. Ya bloody sex fiend." He said, hands in the air to show his innocence. His long monkey finger pointed through the cracked glass. "That weird goblin is always watching me sleep."

Moss squinted through the glass towards the neighbouring tree and noticed a rustling bushy branch. Within it, a wide eyed goblin was either polishing his favourite dagger, or something slightly more crude. In a strange power move, it started 'polishing' more vigorously after realising it was being noticed.

"Holy Pool water!" Moss yelped. "Goblins been snorting fairy-"

He looked backed at the shopkeeper, his nose glistening with dust. "I'll fix it."

His huge pink tongue licked the shutter's frame and slammed it, sticking it firmly together with the adhesive magic that all keepers possessed.

A female monsterettes voice was suddenly in his head. It took him a few words to realise this was a new Chronicular. One without resentment and venom dripping off every word.

Dungeon achievement unlocked: Window licker (Common)

No one has ever done that before in the dungeon. What a unique way of discovering the world and exploring your abilities. Keep it up my special little keeper.

Reward: +1 Lick



Lick has increased to level 11



Her words reached him through the Flow. The connective energy that travelled through all monsters and all floors of the Whispering Pools. Allowing them identify each other as allies, use their abilities and communicate with the Chronicular's.



A dungeon achievement? Why have I never received one of these before? I've accomplished dragon loads in the last few seasons.

Your connection to the Flow was… Oh what did that record say. Yes, here it is - Restricted. But who are they to decide how a river should flow? Not I, nor your previous Chronicular.



This was all very unusual for the keeper. He had always struggled to get more than a few words from the record whisperers. And definitely never had a full conversation with one. As they say, even a mad monster moves with the Flow. But to hinder is the sin of a rogue.



What happened to that grumpy bastard that used to speak with me.

He quit. Too many requests apparently. Too much attention. But I don't mind attention, especially from keepers. You're the most adorable monsters I've ever read about.

Quit. That wasn't a word in Moss's lexicon.

How can someone just quit their job? Was it my fault?

Some say quit, others say he jumped out a window. But it's not your fault at all. You can't do anything wrong in my eyes.

Can I see my stats?

Except that. You've been banned from stat requests for the next 24 candles.

Oh rutt me. Well what about my new ability? What does it do?

Body Boulder: Allows the user to assemble a boulder of body parts from a range of monster and hero races.



This was huge for Moss. Keepers were usually restricted from sticking the corpses of different species together. Since raiding parties and protectors rarely were made up of the same kind, they had to be separated. A time consuming process that no longer affected Moss. His mind ran wild with ideas and possibilities that he could try out during his shift.

"My shift! I gotta go." He yelled.

"You barely teased it lad, will that even hold?" The HowlerMonkey questioned him.

"I'm rank 33, Dives. 3rd best keeper in the entire dungeon. A storm dragon would struggle to pull that off." Moss stated with absolute confidence.

The store owner looked up from his mortar, more rainbow powder was caked around his nostrils. "I don't know, maybe we should get one to try it while they're here" His glazed eyes looked to the empty space behind Moss. "Go on then ya scaly critter, try and rip it open."

The keeper looked around unsure, before noticing the store owner's strange twitching. "Aaahhh, cool if I head out the attic then?" He asked.

Dives pulled on a rope over his head that dropped an attic ladder.

As he scrambled out the shop, he could still hear the Howler talking to 'himself'.

"Call yourself a dragon? The bloody cleaners are stronger than you. You're just an oversized chicken."

"Cleaner." Moss grumbled as he climbed out the roof.

They'd soon notice if the protector's bodies were piled up everywhere and raiders were left unopposed. It'd be a real mess in here. Would take the other monsters forever to clean-.

"Ruttsake!" The walking dungeon mop shouted in frustration.



Moss climbed up the vinefalls through the mist above and onto the fourth floor. He popped out by the Loner's tree amongst the dunes and slowly ran across the Shifting Sands towards the mushroom grove. Here he finally caught up to the other keepers. His chain gang waddled sullenly down the Fungal trenches, heads down, minds still half asleep. Franc, lingering at the back, turned around at Moss's approach.

He immediately put his head in his hands. "Moss, before you say anything. Shut the hell up. I'm not going to apologise-"

"I don't forgive you. You could have made me late and got me lashed to death. But our chain can't fall apart now. We need to sort our priorities out. Which got me thinking-"

Loud boisterous bantering cut him off. All the keepers looked up at once. Then dipped their heads even lower.

"Curse my Ma, here they come." Franc mumbled.

A troop of LesserDemons were heading straight towards them. The official protectors of the dungeon were true warriors. Covered in leather armour, wielding fierce weaponry. They towered over their cleaner counterparts. A keeper could sleep snuggly in their goat jaws, especially when they opened like a snakes' to breathe fire. This rowdy legion was still pumped from slaughtering the raiders. They clashed horns, jostled and shoved each other with laddish vigour. Howling with laughter and screaming war cries at obnoxious levels in the narrow confines of the trench. Their respect for little showed as they hacked at the beautiful glowing mushrooms along the way, lifting their armoured skirts high to flash the passersbys. And just being typical wankers all round.

Moss didn't want to let his chainmate off so easily, and continued his lecture at a whisper. "You need to consider your rank when you act." Moss poked the stitched number in his chest, causing Franc to slap his claw away. "You're 34, that makes you the second best keeper. If something happens to Kai, you're number one bro. You'll be the Key keeper and get all the perks that come with it."

"The perks?" Franc questioned with slow realisation.

The demons were now passing them. Making keepers flinch and smearing blood on their blue cloaks.

Moss grabbed his roommate's shoulder and stared into his red eyes. "You'll be able to choose your own chain. Better pay. Pass to the Minors Quarter. You'll represent us at the floor council. But best of all, you'll get your own hovel, Franc. A space just for you and Purry and all her kids."

"All her kids." He repeated in a whisper, more to himself than Moss.

Franc sharply turned on the spot, pivoting his weight to punch a demon's sack from behind.

"AAAAAAHHHHH!!!" The fiery creature screamed and grabbed its balls.

"Franc, what are yo-" Moss was cut off as gore splashed over him.

The beast's hoofed foot cracked the stone where Franc had stood. It stamped a few more times. Until all that remained of the keeper, the father, husband and friend, were a few scraps of cloth and flesh. The goat's face turned on Moss, practically ramming him to the ground with his curving horns. "You sizing me up, hood rat?"

Hood rat, Moss thought with disbelief. He hadn't heard the derogatory term in seasons. The rest of his chain simply watched - what could they even do? Except end up dead and back to zero.

Moss gulped and looked past the demon to a dungeon poster stuck to the trench wall.

It read; 'Keepers are cleaners. Not heroes. STOP the killings.'

So that's why gnoll didn't kill me.

The lesser noticed and looked as well.

Then screamed in Moss's face. "You think I can read, maggot!"

It pulled back it's leather and started pissing on the puddle of blood that was Franc. His legion burst out laughing and hooted for more.

The demon, now relieved, addressed them all. "Now do your job and clean this shit up."

Soon their laughter just echoed off the trenches. The other keepers had gone as well. Including Moss. He didn't have time to gather his chainmate into a ball and return his flesh to Pool's well. He would have been late to his shift. Franc will understand, Moss told himself. It sounded like he wanted a break from the kids anyway.

 

[Chaperone]

A rancid smell welcomed the keepers to the start of their shift. As did their parchment sniffing Orderer.

"You're all late." Stew yelled from beside the Great Toad.

"Suck my cloth, Stew. We just had a tussle with some Lessers." Dill shouted back.

Stew looked away from his scroll. "Really? Why-"

In one smooth motion he whipped off his slipper and cracked a dazed keeper across the head. "Don't look at the toad, Kole. You damn rookie."

Kole's eyes rolled back from a spinning, kaleidoscope of colours to the usual red. "Holy hell. Dill you were right man. That was a total ride." He croaked merrily.

"It will melt that pebble you call a brain kid. Now listen up everyone. We are looking at a party size of 24. Located between our two points of interest, the GreatToad and the Empty Archway. Mostly dwarves that were trying some sort of blessed carnivore diet. We'll find them spread out from here to the start of the second floor. Our delightful demon friends were seeing who could bounce them between the trench sides the most."

"Why?" Kole asked.

"Because they're assholes. Anyway, it's a real cesspool down there. If you can hold your breath without dying, go for it. Each chain will have their own zone to go over. As the key chain, Kai's lot gets the elf healer's at the rear." He smiled towards several keepers that started high fiving each other. Their leader, Kai, stood cooly smoking an ebony alongside his second in command, Guk. Totally unfazed.

"Fuck Kai." Moss said to himself, wishing he could be him.

Stew, also caught up in their bravado, continued. "And Pool knows you boys are gonna love those soft rears." He shot finger bolts at them and winked.

Kai's chain stopped cheering and shared awkward looks.

"That was fucking weird." Shouted Dill.

A silence dragged out for a few flickers, until the toad croaked.

"Ahmm, graveyard shifts on. You got two candles. Now get to work!"



He dished out each keeper's work orders. Each chain gang had their own working area, which was then split further to accommodate each individual keeper. They weren't restricted to a limited amount, once their personal order was complete they could move on to gather bonus bodies and HolyRelics for additional payment. This tended to filter the lazy from the Moss's - or so he thought.

"Great, the dead beats. Where's Pittons?" Stew asked at Moss's approach.

"He wasn't feeling well this morning, sir. Something about a holy cold." He lied.

Stew sighed heavily. "Why is it that I have more issues with this chain then all the others combined?" Before Kole could answer, Stew cuts him off. "You're all deadbeats."

"Harsh." Dill muttered.

"Dill, you abuse every substance you can get your hands on, I'm surprised you haven't taken a dip in the wells yet."

"Why, what happens?"

Stew ignored him and continued. "Kole looks up to you - for some stupid reason - and you're sending him down the same crumbling path you've always walked. Franc's never mentally here, Pitton's never physically here and Moss…"

Moss's eyes grew wide at the attention, anticipating the beautiful words Stew will use to describe his work ethic.

"... you're too enthusiastic."

"Thank you sir, I bring 110% to each shift-"

"That wasn't a compliment. Keepers work in teams because it's time efficient. We are petite and frail, hero's are enhanced and heavy. Our job is important, Moss. The holy aura left behind by raiders must be cleared or the dungeon dwellers get weak. What do you think happens then?"

"Pools… gets upset."

"We die you idiot. So tone it down. Too many of our brothers in chains keep killing themselves to get away from you." Stew said.

"Sir, I don't think I'm the reason for these unfortunate deaths on shift."

Stew asked the group who spoke to Franc last? They all pointed at Moss.

"No, that was a completely different situation." Moss countered. "We were discussing his personal situation."

"It was suicide by demon, Sir. Seen it a thousand times." Dill stated.

"Excuse me, that is a restricted word. You know the dungeon doesn't allow it."

The young keeper rolled his eyes. "I meant 'accident' by demon."

"Correct. Now Moss, stop bothering your chain. Any more 'accidents' will result in a lashing. Wick is burning fast lads so clear your zone before shifts end or it's no pay. And think about what I said." Stew handed out their orders and dismissed them with a wave.

The chain set off to work. Their lecture had thoroughly demoralised them to the point of 'accident' potential. Moss wanted to pump them back up, get them to his level. But was concerned about the lashing Stew had promised him for speaking out. The Orderer had always had it out for him, even when Moss was one of his best. The thing with Stew is he never focused on individual performance, unless it's Kai, it's always about the team's results. So I just need to get my guys to smash this shift and show him what we can do. Together.



GRAVEYARD SHIFT MAIN WORK ORDER:



LOCATION: Fungal Trenches section 3A

2 x Protectors

4 x Dwarves

REWARD: 8 Scrips



BONUS ORDER:

HolyRelics = 4 Scrips

Heroes = 2 Scrips

Protectors = 1 scrips



Moss looked at their zone, a section of trench smeared with stinky dwarf remains. Blood and other fluids painted the rocky cliff sides. Limbs and common armour littered the floor. Mixed into it all like broth were clumps of mushrooms in various colours. You wouldn't be able to tell, but the keeper was grinning from ear to ear. He loved this part.

Without saying anything, he pushed Dill and Kole away from the bodies.

"What's your problem keeper killer?" Kole snapped at him. The behavioural side effects from staring into the Great toad were beginning to show.

Moss wasn't meant to be speaking with them. But as he glanced over to Stew, he saw the keeper was currently fixated with his scroll. So quickly, and quietly, indicated a plan for his chain. This was usually done by their appointed chain leader, but he was currently a puddle of blood.

Moss had Dill and Kole take either side of the trench each to clean up the splatters. Moss wanted the bodies. "I'll share the scrips after. I promise." He told them.

"It's all been picked clean by the demons, no loot here." Dill pointed out, wondering what Moss's angle was.

"He wants the HolyRelics. You wanna feel the burn from those enchantments don't you." Kole giggled. "Been listening to Pittons and his voices."

Certain heroes possessed weapons, armour or jewelry that had been imbued with their Gods magic. It left a golden glow that radiated with power. It also burned monsters. Demons couldn't stand the stuff, a single touch was agony to them, corroding their skin immediately. Keepers, however, had a natural resistance to their effects. It only went so far, allowing them to place the items in a specialised cart. You wouldn't see a keeper donning any shining breastplates for long - not that they'd be able to lift anything too heavy anyway.

Moss ignored his chainmates and got to work. First he checked his zone for HolyRelics, with no luck.

He then picked up a dwarfs stiff leg, the muscles locked tight like a HardWood stick. A common occurrence with body parts after dying. His claws squeezed into the solid flesh. The venom contained in them released the tension. Making it possible to manipulate. His giant tongue loped out of his hood and slathered one side with his adhesive lick ability. Which he then attached to a torso, then a head, a hand, a testicle, a finger and so on. Until a small ball of mangled dwarf lay before him. It was the same height as him and perfectly rounded throughout. The sphere was easy to roll and beautiful to observe.

He was an artist in reshaping the dead.

Usually keepers would stop at this point and start wheeling their body balls to the nearest well. These were found near most floor entrances or at specific milestones in the middle, such as the Great toad.

But Moss had a new ability, and a plan.

Body Boulder.

Moss started rolling and licking. Reapplying his ability to the outside with each rotation. He moved away from the toad and like a snowball, the boulder picked up parts as it went. No longer restricted by a single race per boulder. It steadily grew.

Keepers climbing along the sides stopped licking the rock to stare. For Moss must have been one of the first to unlock this ability in a few seasons. Which was strange considering that Kai was a higher rank than him. Unless he hadn't levelled his lick to 10 yet. He wanted to question him about that, but he rarely fraternised with the competition.

"Hey, I'm working here!" A keeper yelled as the boulder consumed his meagre ball.

"Don't worry!" Moss yelled between heavy breaths. "I've got this!"

His legs started to ache trying to keep up with the boulder. Tiny lungs burned from the work. But he couldn't stop to recover his stamina as he'd already left his appointed zone behind and was entering the other chains work spaces. Now wasn't the time to look weak.

The mass of bodies was big. The additional boulder had merged awkwardly, giving the overall shape a weird bulge. It started to tumble and bounce, losing it's smooth roll. Moss's tongue felt drier than the Shifting Sand's road. He stumbled and almost tripped as his mana depleted to nothing.

"Moss!" Stew shouted. "What in the whispering pools are you doing? This isn't your station."

He stopped to explain.

The boulder didn't.

It kept tumbling. All the additional weight, along with the slight sloping floor, added to it's rapid pace. Keepers shouted and leapt out of the way. Some stepped in the way. Adding a nice bloody smear to mark its path.

"Oh no." Moss whimpered and gave chase.

Soon all the chains were following suit, yelling with excitement that something new was happening during their boring shift.

Stew suddenly crumpled his scroll up and squealed with horrible realisation. "Kai!" He screamed and sprinted at full tilt. The ball was about to enter the number one keepers zone. It was so large now that any keeper in its path was being crushed, whether by accident or by 'accident'.

Moss believed he could talk his way out of these deaths.

I mean Pool had gifted me with this ability. Why would I not use it for work? What else were abilities for except to become better at your job.

This was a sound argument that even Stew could comprehend - unless he killed Kai. That was like drinking the welcome 'potions' at a cult meet and greet. You're bumping uglies with the lord of death. Which was the opposite of Moss's current life goals. He had to react and fast.

Stew was attempting to squeeze around the massive boulder's edge, but it was scraping the trench wall at this stage. Moss had to try and slow it down, so he grabbed a dwarfs tiny arm (That had strangely died clutching a red apple) with his claws and dug his heels in.

But the boulder kept going. Its momentum thought nothing of the keeper's tiny strength and now rolled with him attached.

"Aaaahhh!" He screamed in terror as he was lifted off the ground. He rolled to the top and foresaw his face being crushed upon the stoney floor. Seeing as it was his ability that had slathered the corpses. Moss could mentally unstick anything he touched at will.

Unstick! Unstick!

He was detached at the precipice of the boulder. Releasing the small 'arm' and himself into the air.

Kai's chain turned from their work by the Empty Archway to see Moss shooting towards them.

Guk glared at him with a mix of resentment and confusion. "Is he holding a dwarf's cock?"

 

[Chaperone]

Kai reacted smoothly like the professional he was. Calling his team to surround him with a click of his claws.

Moss couldn't believe it. As he flew towards them, they gathered in a small circle as if they were going to stop the boulder with raw strength alone.

At least we'll zero out together.

Moss hit them at speed and immediately appeared amongst the giant mushrooms.

"Team fuck ups prevails again." Guk sneered with glee while ruffling Moss's hood.

I'm alive? How?

"What just happened?" He managed to squeal out as he shuddered with adrenaline. That's when he noticed Kai tuck a golden ring on a necklace into his cloak. The keeper's chaingang stood over Moss menacingly. Their red eyes bore into him. The threat was real.

Kai towered over him. Arm raised. Fist clenched.

But it relaxed. He offered it to Moss, helping him to his feet.

"You heroically flew through the air and managed to save us in time." Kai told him.

"Do you understand Mr Hero?" Guk bore down on him. "You didn't see anything else."

Moss nodded furiously as his mind raced.

Kai has stolen loot. That's why he's always been the best. I must tell Stew that he's broken dungeon law.

A loud rumbling announced the boulder rolling by. It bounced awkwardly, shifting directions constantly.

The bulge pushed it one way, setting its path perfectly for the well.

"It's going home to Pools." Moss shouted with glee.

"Nope." Guk replied.

It smashed a rock. Pushing it sideways where it then bounced through a shallow pond. A loud RIBBIT echoed down the trenches with a hint of sadness. Moss couldn't look away as the boulder then smashed through the EmptyArchway. Shattering the legendary point of interest into fragments.

Finally it shifted back on course and landed with a splash in the well. The dungeon Core, Pool, worked her magic to consume the bodies. Removing the heroes and their holy ways from the floor forever and soon depositing the revived monsters back into the dungeon.

"I guess you were right." Guk laughed aloud, setting off the rest of his chainmates.



Lick has increased to level 12

Body boulder has increased to level 4



Moss and Kai's chains stepped out of the dense fungal. A line of chaos marked the pathway of the boulder. All the way through the trenches was blood and destroyed shrooms. They walked by the shallow puddle it had emptied in it's wake. The area writhed with little black creatures that slowly stopped moving.

"The Great toad's not going to be happy about that." Kai said flatly.

They reached the well, its waters swirling like a maelstrom to consume the massive boulder. The putrid smell of holy Flow reduced with each rotation.

Ding.

The nearby scrip post lit up with runes. One was always stationed beside a well. Luckily this one was built on the other side and hadn't felt the wrath of the boulder. Moss stuck his tattooed hand in the open slot of the black post. A stinging sensation followed as scrips were loaded into his hand rune. It flashed upon completion.



Order Reward: 60 scrips

Rank increased to 37



"Neither's Stewie apparently." Guk said. Pulling Moss's attention away from his sudden burst of wealth.

"Moss!" Their Orderer rushed towards them. "You are a menace to this dungeon and our society. Did I not just tell you the repercussions of killing keepers? And you just wiped out almost three full chains."

The ground shook as the GreatToad landed beside the puddle. Huge tears fell from it's bulbous eyes onto the black worms. None moved now.

"Not to mention the death of the toads offspring-"

I'm sure he can have more.

"-and the destruction of the Empty Archway!" Stew screamed.

Oh that's bad.

Moss scrambled to save himself and inform on Kai's rule breaking. "Sir, Kai has-"

"Kai has been soiled by your miserable presence." He turned to the number one keeper, who leaned against a large mushroom smoking an ebony.

"I apologise for Moss's inexcusable behaviour and will see to it personally that he's reprimanded swiftly." Stew goes to wipe off some fungal mess that had ended up on Kai's clothes, but the top keeper held him back.

"We good, Stew. Moss saved my whole chain from wiping." He looked over at Moss. "You earnt Key keeper today."

"Key keeper." Stew and Moss repeated together.

They both looked at the number poorly stitched into his frayed cloak. It was now 37 with a symbol underneath that swirled at one end and had teeth along the shaft. Hence the assumption it was a key. Moss secretly believed it was the crown. Though he'd never admit that to another dweller.

Kai's own rank, 36, now lacked the symbol.

Dungeon achievement unlocked: Alpha Cleaner (Greater)

Oh Pools! I've been assigned to the best keeper in the whole dungeon. I knew you were special, the butterflies in my tummy told me so. This is what happens when we remove the barriers and let it all flow so naturally. Speaking of Flow.

Reward: ChoiceRelic



Motes of light conjoined before the keeper to form a dark green coin. Its faces were embellished with a strange symbol of a tree and intricate weaving patterns. Moss reached out to grab it when it snapped in half. Releasing a small pulse of warmth.



Reward choice:

• AlphaClaws (Evolve) - Extended claws to dig deep into the meat. Improved VenomClaw by 25%. Improves keeper claws for combat and work.
• SpritelySprite - Elemental fairy companion that accompanies you at all times. Their joyful attitude and sharp wit will lift any from their darkest slump.
• +1 Spirit - Improved Spirit increases mana pool and regeneration. Increasing ability frequency.

Moss had only heard of HolyRelics before. But he wasn't going to shy away from an opportunity to better himself. He'd take anything to stay ahead of Kai. But that didn't mean the keeper was interested in fighting his competition. The mere idea of combat made him shiver. His VenomClaw ability was already effective. And he didn't trust fairies. Their silver tongues and glittery wings were a distraction from their selfishly, twisted nature.

The Spirit reward caught his attention. He'd never heard of that stat. But since his new BodyBoulder ability was so mana demanding, he needed anything that would help recover it. Smoking ebonys helped but they cost scrip.

He chose as the excitement took hold.

"I'm the best." He whispered before screaming again at the top of his lungs. "I'm the best!"

He'd done it. He'd done it all by himself. Moss didn't care that the Chronicler had called him a cleaner. Or that Guk and his chain were laughing at his outburst. This was the best shift of his life.

"The winds blow strongest at the peak, big keeps. Hope you don't fall too soon." Guk flicked him the holy V before leaving with Kai.

Moss didn't care. He was tentatively touching the stitched number as if it wasn't real.

He had to tell his chain, he had to find Dill and Kole now. He had to revive Franc quickly so they could go celebrate at the Minor's Quarter. They were technically still below minor monster rank. But as a member of his floor's council, the key keeper got access to the exclusive club. And of course his chain was welcome on the guest list.

Before he could skip away, Stew grabbed him. "Moss, come see me in my office."

What office?

Stew dragged him behind a massive fungal patch and rubbed his eyes aggressively.

"That could leave permanent damage sir."

"Shut up and listen. You've killed keepers. You just slaughter the Great toads children. A point of interest is gone. You disobeyed my orders. But more importantly you endangered our top keeper, Kai."

"But I'm the top keeper now." Moss defended himself.

"Listen kid, we need Kai and his chain. They take the majority of the workload on their shoulders without complaint or want. The dungeon needs them. We, the keepers, need them. Or questions will start getting asked. People replaced."

"Such as yourself? Doesn't the Key appoint their Orderers. Hell, I could just take over the role myself." Moss pointed out.

Stew stared at him for a long flicker before listing off his duties.

"I'm up first, analyse raid reports, organise orders, structure the chains, assess keeper stock and productivity. Which includes disciplining the indisposed and tardy."

Moss cringed at that last one. He didn't want to crack the whip, especially on Pittons.

"You're right. I got too many responsibilities for scroll licking work. Council meetings to attend. Maybe hit the Minors club for some networking. Let the other dwellers hear the good news. Because, Stew. I'm the Key keeper. I'm that monster who'll lead us into an age of respect and prestige. I do most of the work orders already."

Stew took out an ebony and lit it off a nearby glow worm. He took a deep drag before replying. "The only person your rank helps is yourself. You have to decide if your own actions require punishment or at the very least an apology to the GreatToad. I don't even know who we should talk to about the Empty Archway."

"Who care's? It was pointless anyway. Let's just pretend the raiders did it. And you apologise to the toad for me. That's an order. I've got a party to throw for myself."

Moss left Stew and found Dill and Kole waiting for him by the well.

Actually Kole was head first in the well. His colleague dragged him out at their new leader's approach.

The keeper emerged spluttering and mumbling to himself.

"So?" Dill asked.

"It's… it's awful. I saw a world in chaos. Raiders slaughtering dwellers, but they were all in blue cloaks. A forest ablaze. A haggard creature crying empty tears. Why did you make me go in, Dill? Why?" The young keeper started sobbing uncontrollably.

Moss put his arm around him. "Will grog and MoonSugar at the Minor's Quarter make you feel better?"

Kole leapt to his feet at once. "You got on the guest list."

"Haven't you heard?" Moss pushed his rank in their faces. "I'm writing it. Let's go boys." They began the march through the Maze, the second floor where the Quarter was located.

"Kai's knocked off? I can't believe it." Dill said. "We get to hang out with some real minors? I heard the harem there is meant to be wild."

Kole perked up even more. "Minors have a harem. That's fucking awesome, how much are they?"

Moss and Dill both stopped in their tracks.

"How much?" Dill asked.

"It's Seb's harem, they're his minors." Moss explained.

Kole rubbed his head in confusion. "So I can't pay them for sex?"

"No you goblin." Dill said. "Seb's one of the Ratkin, his whole harem is made up of rodents."

"But you said they're wild."

"Wild to party with, they're not rats of the night. Holy pools man, have a cold bath."

Moss, feeling bad for the young horny keeper, put his hand over his shoulder and started leading him away. "Let me explain to you what a harem is."

The Minor's Quarter was situated in the middle of the second floor. It took a while to get to, seeing as the whole floor is littered with traps and deadends. The dwellers that called this floor home were a strange, reserved bunch. Mostly Ratkin that scurried around in packs, also lost. And monsterist gnomes that crafted the traps and apparently lived in the walls.

Even with their extensive knowledge of the first five floors of the dungeon, the keepers got lost several times.

"Are we lost? I knew I shouldn't have smoked that LowQuality herb." Dill said.

Kole whimpered behind them. "I'm lost. I've always been lost." The swirling well waters were still there in his eyes. He'd obviously had a bad trip.

"Don't the TrapMaster switch up the layout each season?" Dill asked.

"It's this way." Moss pointed around a bend. He had no idea. But the Key keeper should be a decisive leader, regardless of knowledge.

The old decrepit walls and paths seemed to change before their very eyes. But the keepers never lost the spring in their step as they were finally about to enter the Minor's Quarter for the first time. The initial floors of the dungeon were protected by minor monsters that always partied after a raid. They'd tell you they were celebrating a victory but most just wanted to get muckfaced.

The keepers skipped over several of those 'noble' protectors that had died facing off the dwarfs earlier.

"The other chains can mop them up." Moss told his chainmates. "We've got crystals to snort."

They whooped as the entrance, a PaintWay, came into view. The portrait hung from floor to ceiling. It stood almost 6 keepers wise so even a minotaur could fit through its frame.

"Begone foul cretin." The portrait knight yelled, barring their entrance into the Quarter.

Moss signalled to the lads with a 'I got this'. "Excuse me sir knight, as you can see by the rank upon my chest that I am the highest and most esteemed keeper in all the lands. Thus providing me and my guests access to this ere establishment."

The painted man appeared to stare intensely at Moss before stepping aside and revealing a small pathway amongst the brushstroke trees. The keepers shared an excited smile and were about to step through when a party of Gnolls pushed passed. They stepped into the PaintWay, onto the path and disappeared beyond the trees.

"No cretins!" The knight snapped his helm into place and blocked the way once again.

"But-"

A loud thud cut him off as the knight spat out a stone tomb from his visor. He studied it briefly before showing Moss.

With horrid realisation, Kai's name sat at the top of the list - rank 38.

Mos was in disbelief, even as he stared at his stitched number. The key symbol had vanished.

"If you plebeians cannot read, It states that you are second best amongst the grubs."

Dill and Kole turned away, shoulders slumped.

"No wait." Moss began to sweat. "But I was at the top for a moment, can't we just go in for a quick look. I promise we'll be no trouble. "

"Said the Goblin to the princess. Pick finer words or shiny rewards if thou lack renown. For this establishment is full of minors that your sinning eyes shall not soil."

Moss lost it. "Fuck your minors, Sir slave knight. I may be small but you're trapped with one view and no one to share it with." He raced after his mates with the knight's words chasing him on the breeze. "Even grubs have sharp claws. They cut and reveal the truth of my grey heart. My solitude. My Loneliness. I'm so… alone."

 

[Chaperone]

'A mad monster is a bad monster.' Pool's axiom #2092 - Herald of Truth



A soft sobbing followed, but the keepers were already gone. Moss's words of redemption fell on the bleak ears of his chain mates.

The bodies of the protectors they'd passed before were gone, already rejuvenating in a nearby well. No doubt this was Kai's hard work.

"Shut your trap Moss! You're not the best keeper. You only have a high rank because you run from any glint of danger." Dill snapped at him.

"That's not true. I tried to stop that boulder and saved the mighty Kai himself."

Kole gave him an accusing glare. "How did you manage that anyway? I thought for sure you were going to become paste."

Moss was stuck, he'd planned on mucking on the legendary keeper's reputation by revealing his secret. But all it would do is reinforce their assumption that he was a waste of cloth.

"Well I whipped over the boulder, backflipping through the air to land deftly beside Kai's chain. The cowards were practically pissing pixie tears when I got to them. Had to slap Guk back into the dungeon. Then I picked them up and dived out the way. Pretty easy stuff."

"You picked them all up?"

"Obviously. Gotta be strong to move meat that size."

They shared a laugh. Moss didn't realise it was at him.



Ombay's roar broke the front door off.

"Let's get to work, keepers! Oh shit, Pittons!" Moss leapt off his bed and yanked their crappy bone door off of his flatmate's bed. "Bloody sadist."

But Pittons was gone. Moss recalled hearing he'd moaned to death on the whipping post before being tossed in a well.

Franc also wasn't in their hovel. He was still a soup of demon piss and blood on the trench floor.

Moss had forgotten to revive him.

"Haunted crypts, quarter candle till the graveyard shift!" Stew yelled from the Grotto's street.

Moss waited until his Orderer had moved on before slipping outside. Dill was just leaving his own hovel at the same time.

"Good morning keeper, ready for a day of bone licking fun?" Moss slapped him on the back.

"Don't touch me Moss."

"Someone's a bit dusty this morning."

Dill's irritation bled away into melancholy. "Kole got weird about the whole well vision thing last night. So I got him some mana crystals."

Moss rounded on him in horror. "Mana crystals. You don't fight a fire with a PyroWand, Dill. Where is he?"

"Here." Dill pulled a jar from under his cloak. It contained a grim liquid that sloshed like an old health potion.

"Literally melted his brain. Kai did warn me but I thought the rest would do him good."

"Kai! you got the crystals from Kai? How could you Dill, he's the enemy."

"If he's the enemy then why did you save his life yesterday?"

Moss was stuck. "I meant spiritual enemy, in the sense of competition and all that."

"Sure. Well he's a good bloke. Sorted Kole out proper and even had a word with him. Kid needs someone to look up to. Someone better than me." Dill trudged along.

"I could have spoken to him."

With that Dill doubled his pace across the drawbridge and into the Village.

Moss was about to chase after him when a particularly haggard furry rounded on the group of keepers.

"Francy boo?" She sneered.

Several keepers pointed behind them, until only Moss was left.

She leapt at him. "Leave me to raise these little hexes alone will you? I said 'be back at the end of your shift', we haven't eaten in days." She yelled as she smothered Moss. Her breath wreaked of stale ebony smoke and sour apple juice. The bridge shook as she continuously slapped at his face with mild effort. Full effort would easily have caved his face in.

"I'm." Slap "Not." Slap. "Rut" Slap. "boy, Franc!" He managed to get out. Staying her hand for a flicker.

Her feline pupils narrowed.

Slap.

The bridge started to tremble with an extra bounce. It wasn't from the light hearted beating, but rather an obese HowlerBear.

"You always say it's not you Francy boo, why are you always running away from our love? Is it my litter? I can 'lose' them in the maze for you."

"Purry." Moss said.

Her hand caressed his face lovingly. "Yes Francy."

He gently took it, kissing it softly as the bouncing grew to its crescendo.

"You're a terrible Mother." He licked her hand and slapped it against the passing HowlerBear's calf. With a squeal she was yanked away to trail the monster as if he had a piece of bog scroll stuck to him.

With his face feeling battered, Moss checked his stats.



Moss - Keeper - Rank 37

Health - 5/10

Mana - 30/33



[Attributes]

Might - 1

Agility - 2

Sense - 3

Wit - 1

Spirit - 2



[Ability]

Lick - 12

VenomClaw - 8

BodyBoulder - 4



[Conditions]

Maddness - 2



Oh. I got my stats. Thought I was block- What are attributes?

You've never seen them before?

No.

They're vital for a monster to understand their personal ability and weaknesses. But I'm sure the Key alpha keeper knows all about them.

Of course, every monster worth their claws knows.

He made a mental note to himself to ask the Oracle about them. But for now he had to play it safe for the remainder of his shift. His health was cut in half from that light foreplay. Any mad Ratkin or drunk Howler was a threat now. Hell'sBells , he could lose all his hard work from simply falling down a flight of stairs.

"No wonder Kai's so high. Little wanker can just blink away." Moss mumbled to himself on the way to work. He had to run most of the way to avoid the threat of Stews' lashing. Especially considering their little meeting after Moss's temporary rise to the top. Stew had mentioned monster's being replaced easily - Moss hadn't considered himself.

Across the Watcher's woods, over the Shifting sands, through the Fungal trench (Where a furious GreatToad tried to catch his eye).

"I promised I'll sort your kids out later today." He yelled at a mad dash. Quickly passing the dried out puddle containing some shrivelled black husks. Oddly it reminded Moss of Franc - who he'd also forgotten.

He zipped through the Maze, catching up to his brother of the cloth as they entered the Graveyard. To most keepers, not including Moss, this was a fairly dull part of the dungeon. He'd come here so much in his life since raiders struggled to defeat the Fruitbat protectors that nested in the skeletal trees. Or the DarkPine foresters. Black bark trees that loped around tending the poisonous orchard to supply their winged friends. Plus the ebony smoke they crafted from their own foliage. The Graveyard saw heroes of all calibre. Most arrived clad in thick metal and enchanted items. Goaded by tales and the promise of fortune and fame. But when flying rodents drop poisonous apples on your head then poop in your screaming mouths, it tends to set you off balance. Especially when the trees start stomping on your blind companions.

Moss left stoney corridors of the maze to find an eternal night waiting for him. GlowFlys twinkled above the blue grass, dancing in the moonlight. The Graveyard was the namesake for their shift since the keepers came here so often. And Moss found comfort in its familiarity.

"How can any dweller think this is dull?" He said, mesmerised by the stars overhead. Not a true sky, since their dungeon core Pools created it, but truly fantastical nonetheless.

"It's dark and gloomy and full of flying rats that shit on your hood." A passing keeper answered him.

Moss flicked him the Holy V when he wasn't looking then followed the crowd.

Stew stood upon a gravestone overlooking the group. Intensely scanning his scroll of work orders before waving for attention. "Right. Before we begin, I just want to say that using abilities isn't frowned upon or taboo, but should be used with some consideration. I'm not going to call anyone out-" He waited a flicker, making sure everyone was listening. -"Except Moss, you sack of dung. Do less, be better."

A few Keepers - actually most of them - glared at him. He'd taken all the scrips from the previous shift. Considering chains divided the pay equally and were paid by the body or relic. He'd also weakened most of their groups by zeroing out their mates. They were right to be annoyed.

Moss, hurting from Purry's attention, would have to watch his step today. He saddled up close to Dill, his only remaining team mate. His heart started to pound as keepers began to yell.

They're coming for me, he thought. Until a large gap appeared in the crowd as they moved out the path of a lumbering DarkPine. The tree walkers were a blind race, relying on the Flow to detect their surroundings. This explained why several keepers ended up crushed beneath its thick roots. However, it didn't explain the slight smirk across its barky face.

"Protect me Dill!" Moss cried, leaping from an aerial root that reached from its canopy to the ground. These were used as supports and weapons against armoured heroes - a keeper's cloth didn't stand a chance.

Dill pushed him off. "Stop grabbing me. Hells sake, Kole was right. You are a coward."

Moss brushed his cloak clean. A little embarrassed by the outburst and hurt by his chainmates words. He was just a practical survivor. Who wasn't scared of dying?

The startled crowd of keepers were bickering furiously about almost getting stepped on.

Causing Kai, standing on a larger gravestone than Stew, to cough loudly.

Guk called from his right side. "Oi, be quiet. Kai wants to say something."

"Shut up! All of you!" Stew screeched like a pixie. "Kai's speaking!"

Silence followed, except for the Orderer's heavy panting. He glared at the crowd before nodding to Kai.

"Keepers have always faced down boulders, whether self-inflicted or otherwise. We are stronger together. Don't forget what we're up against. We are chains for a reason."

"That was it? Wow, I feel so inspired." Moss mumbled to Dill who took an exaggerated step away from him.

Stew smoothed his cloak out. "Ahem, yes. Ah, well said. Let's support each other and be more like Kai. Our true Key keeper, he leads us each shift to be a better version of ourselves for the sake of the dungeon. A bastion to his own, he-"

"Shifts on Stewy, let's go!" Guk cut him off.

"Right." He scrambles to read off from his scroll. "Big day for us. The FruitBats took heavy losses, almost slaughtered to the brink but managed to hold off a tribe of PettyGnomes. Their tiny siege weapons contained sound amplifying devices that managed to belittle our flying protectors into a flurry. Most died flying into each other or the ground. So you'll find them spread out across the entire floor. These WarCrafts were covered in holy scripture so make sure we clear out every scrap. Also - I have to say this every time - don't eat the apples. It should be obvious but it always happens. Chain leaders come see me for your work orders. Graveyard shifts on!"

Moss lined up to collect his zone. He may have fallen from grace as key, but he was still top of his chain. Which meant he had a few responsibilities. Collect the orders. Ensure wages were split equally between his crew. Revive any fallen chainmates outside of the graveyard shift candles. As he considered these duties, Moss checked his scrip rune. The tattooed symbol covered the top of his right hand. It allowed him to store scrips, which he checked now.

Dungeon scrips: 72

"Rut my life."

Moss still had his whole chain's wages from the previous shift.

It's fine. I'm just a little distracted from having the crown ripped off my head. Happens to the best of us. The others won't mind anyway, he thought. Especially considering most of them were currently liquid right now. And Pittons tended not to care about scrips.

"Where in the hells is he?" Moss said to himself.

Stew looked up from his scroll with a grin. "Moss of the rusty chain. Not talking to yourself are you? Not a stitch in sight, or a key, so it can't be the madness then."

"Just getting myself focused for the shift, Orderer." Moss said.

"Well you'll be focusing on rubbish duty for a few candles. Make sure it's all picked up. Every last piece. These aren't real HolyRelics, just fragments."

Moss surveyed the battlefield. It was as if Ombay had roared inside Dive's shop. Shattered junk lay across the grassy field, littering every gravesite, pathway and tomb.

"But sir, we won't gain levels or scrips from this. The kobolds won't even buy it." Moss pleaded.

"I know. Make sure you stick to your own workload. A full chain will have this done before shifts over. Candles burning." Stew pulled up close to him. "I'm watching you, it's only a matter of time." He squeezed the handle of his lash and winked.

Moss rushed back to Dill to tell him the bad news.

"That rotten cloth has given-"

Dill had a small scroll in his claw and an odd look on his face.

"What is it?" Moss asked.

"A message from the Oracle." He passed it over. "Why's a QuestGiver sending you messages?"