Jeremy stared at the center of the magic circle and felt a presence. Something invisible? Stepping over the now inert magic circle, he took a closer look. In the center was a small, smoky blob about the size of his palm. The smokey blob felt cold to his touch, but otherwise, his fingers met no resistance, like he was touching mist. He wondered if there was something more to it. But no, it was just a small, smoky blob.
He felt an excited, silent “Squeak!” through their mental connection.
Using Identify, he got —
Shadow Wraith. You will never find a more loyal or devoted familiar.
Jeremy sighed. “Don't take this the wrong way, Shadow Wraith, but I was hoping for something larger.”
“Squeak?” it responded through their mental connection. From the Shadow Wraith, he felt hurt. Was something wrong? Did he not like it?
“No, no, you're fine,” Jeremy answered, not wanting to hurt the little creature's feelings. “I'm just not sure what to do with you?”
“Squeak!” It was ready to serve.
“Could you stand guard, Squeak? Let me know if anything approaches?”
“Squeak!” The small, smoky blob puffed itself up to twice its former size and proudly began moving around the passageway.
The larger the shadow wraith made itself, the fainter it became. At twice its original size, it was so faint Jeremy could barely see it. He could feel his new familiar patrolling the hallway filled with the importance of its mission, eager to please its new master.
“A bit disappointing,” Flint said, “but it's possible your familiar will gain strength with time.”
“The wording of the spell suggests it will. I guess we'll see.”
***
Something entered the hallway, but Squeak was on the job! It pounced. “Squeak!”
Jeremy groaned and woke up for the tenth time to see Squeak fighting with a foot-long centipede. “Go get im Squeak,” he said tiredly. “You got this.”
“Squeak!”
The centipede thrashed around on the floor, its movement slowing, then stopping, lying there until it got reabsorbed into the dungeon.
Squeak was a little bigger than before.
It seemed Squeak had a life-draining ability.
“Good work, Squeak,” Jeremy said, wondering if Squeak could get big enough to kill hundreds at once.
“Squeak!” Squeak said, triumphant.
I guess we'll see.
Instead of getting up, Jeremy spent a long time staring at the dungeon walls. He knew he really should do stuff, but didn't feel like it.
A combination of Squeak's cold nudging him, the familiar ice shard from Arkis hurting his chest, and an impatient Flint clearing his noncorporeal throat forced him to stand up with a groan, clothes chafing his still-healing skin.
“Have you had a nice rest?” Flint asked. “In the likely event you're ignoring my advice to leave this floor immediately, it's time to get back to work. Let's not forget your sacred mission to get us out of this dungeon so I can save the universe.”
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With a sigh, Jeremy prepared another flask of his diluted poison.
He was saving the clearing of the red path and the immediate passageways branching off from it for last. If adventurers found a cleared path, they'd assume—correctly, that someone was clearing out this floor of the dungeon, and if they were like most adventurers he'd met, they'd try to kill him.
Fortunately, the entrance passageway he'd just cleared was repopulating. In a few days, there would be no evidence Jeremy had come through.
He sent his familiar off to scout the hallways. And though Squeak was thrilled to scout ahead, and the dungeon creatures didn't appear to notice it, Squeak had terrible vision. Squeak could make out general shapes within several paces of it, and nothing else. Jeremy couldn't do more than get the most general idea of what lay ahead. And Squeak could not move more than fifty paces away from him.
Jeremy activated Sneak and ran down several branching hallways while checking for traps until he was out of sight of anyone who might be walking the red path.
With that taken care of, Jeremy continued clearing the third floor of the dungeon.
The second passageway he cleared hurt less than the first one, though Jeremy was still sore from the previous day. His passive resistances were up so it wasn't as bad. Squeak helped, gleefully going from one small creepy crawly to another, growing to the size of a bowling ball, getting so bloated with life force it could barely move, dragging itself along behind Jeremy.
The second passageway went much like the first, with the poisoned insects being crushed by his body, or flying or crawling away and dying from poison.
Once the second passageway was cleared, Jeremy stood up with a groan and drank some water. He cleaned himself off, cast his crude light spell—more for practice than light—and looked around.
He found a second pebble lodged in a small cavity where the wall touched the floor. If he hadn't been looking for it, he'd have never known it was there. This wasn't a coincidence. The pebbles served a purpose. But what?
***
After the first few days, his passive skills improved to where he barely felt the creepy crawlies. He was soon clearing up to ten passageways a day. In the evening, he'd settle down in the last hallway he'd cleared, training with his sword or throwing knives, then working on puzzles and stuffing himself with dungeon rations, before eating some of his remaining food from Lard Lump, and turning in for the night.
Squeak soon grew to the size of a Saint Bernard, killing twenty or more dungeon creepy crawlies at a time, and Jeremy went up a level, but left his extra point alone for the time being. His Mental Fortitude was maxed out, but he wasn't feeling traumatized
***
“Okay, what do I do now?” Jeremy asked, relaxing after a long day.
He was working on one of his dungeon puzzles, the portable computer-tablet-shaped puzzle he called The Labyrinth.
He was attempting, once again, to guide his adventurer through the puzzle. Labyrinth monsters surrounded his adventurer. No matter what he did now, his adventurer was toast. Even worse, his adventurer would return to the beginning again, and he'd have to start over. How far through the labyrinth did he need to guide his adventurer to finish the puzzle? He had no idea.
“Leave this floor of the dungeon,” Flint said, from where he was sulking in a corner.
“I mean, about this puzzle.”
“You know the answer to that,” Flint said. “Make your last move and throw your puzzle before you lose your fingers.”
Jeremy had tried working the labyrinth from a distance; he'd tried wrapping the puzzle in his spider silk cloak before making a move. He'd even attempted to have Squeak and Flint work the puzzle under his direction. But the only way he could make the puzzle work was by holding it in his bare hands as he guided the adventurer through the puzzle's vast labyrinth.
Jeremy pushed the adventurer forward. As soon as it moved into place, he yanked his hands away.
A blur of motion as teeth and claws came out of his puzzle, only to vanish by the time the puzzle hit the ground.
Blood dripped from Jeremy's hands. Three of the claws were fast enough to cut his hand and fingers. But to his relief, his hands and fingers were still connected to his body; reattaching fingers and thumbs was always a traumatic and challenging activity.
The further he pushed the adventurer through the puzzle labyrinth, the faster and more numerous the puzzle monsters in his way, and the longer and sharper the teeth and claws coming out of the dungeon puzzle when the adventurer was inevitably surrounded and killed.
Thanks to his rapid healing, the bleeding soon stopped. He cast his light spell again. He'd reached the point where he could keep it lit for minutes at a time.
With a sigh, he wondered if he should have taken Lard Lump's offer and sold her the puzzles. As she'd pointed out, the puzzles were worthless unless he could solve them, and all his puzzles had proven equally frustrating.
On a more positive note. Jeremy's skills kept going up.
Acid Resistance: 3
Electric Resistance: 3
Bite Resistance: 4
So that was something.
