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food, and drink.”

These were the traditional offerings. In the old days, it was common to bring a wide range of things to a dungeon, but weapons, food, and drink were the usual opening gifts for adventurers new to a dungeon. Those Eosoreans who remembered the golden age of the dungeons had a wisdom to share about what had been expected of adventurers, and modern adventurers eagerly listened to all their reminiscences.

Sarah took out the weapon she was bringing as tribute— a belt of sharp throwing axes. Todd, who had insisted that he would bring food, took out his offering— a wheel of cheese. Josh, against all protest, had brought a six-pack of Samuel Adams lager, his favorite beer. “It’s a modern drink,” he had argued when the others had protested that it was a silly choice. “And popular. This will mean the dungeon can create six packs as rewards for adventurers, and there will be loads of people who want nothing better than to crack a beer once they’ve finished running a dungeon. I know that’s what I would want!” He had bought two six-packs. One was for the dungeon, but the other awaited him in the car.

“Enter with your gifts, then, and may the gods of fortune guide your steps.”

Sarah looked at her companions and grinned. It was well known that dungeons liked this kind of formality before allowing adventurers to enter. Some even set adventurers riddles, and all demanded gifts. The relationship between adventurers and dungeons was one of friendly rivalry. Both benefited from each other, indeed, both relied on each other, but they were also in competition. It was not in the dungeon’s interest for the adventurers to all be killed, but at the same time no adventurer wanted a dungeon that was not a challenge, and death always remained a real possibility.

That was why the dungeons Sarah and her team were used to running felt so bogus compared to this. The ‘tribute’ you paid was just dollars for the entry fee. The only real ‘risk’ to be run was getting a crap score.

No more. This was the real deal now, and they were no longer dungeon gamers.

“No more arcades, boys,” she said to Todd and Josh. “It doesn’t get any realer than this.”

With that, the doors swung open inward before them.

Sarah, Todd, and Josh stepped though, and became the first genuine dungeon runners in more than a century to enter a true Eosorean dungeon.

A ripple flowed out from that first step. It went out, away from Kyrine’s grounds, away from the city, from earth, away out across the universe, and then beyond, across the dimensional rift between the universes until it found the smoldering ruins of Old Eosor.

In a barren, lifeless landscape, the palace of the Fateweaver rose like a fortress of living death. In a high tower, the Fateweaver himself, devourer of worlds,  lifted his head and turned his ear as if listening for an elusive sound.

“It begins,” he said. “The dungeons have awoken.”

He rose, called for his servants, and began to give his orders.

Chapter 13

The dungeon adventurers stepped through the Mansion’s door and found themselves in a brightly lit, carpeted hallway. Four women stood looking at them— two beastkin, one dreadlocked outworlder, and a Drow woman. One of the beastkin raised her hands and cried out wordlessly in alarm.

From somewhere, Sarah heard a man’s voice. “Shit!” it said. “Wrong door! Hold on… ah, there we go.”

She heard the dungeon’s female voice chuckle, and suddenly the scene changed. The opulent hallway was gone, replaced by a stone chamber with rough walls and a high vaulted ceiling. Flaming torches in sconces burned round the walls, filling the hall with a shifting, shadowy light. Piled against the walls, Sarah saw chests, tables, wooden shelves, and here and there the glint of gold.

“This is more like it,” she said. “I wonder what that other scene was?”

“And that man’s voice,” said Josh. “Talking something about the wrong door?”

“Must just have been a glitch in the programming,” said Todd, and they all nodded agreement and put it out of their minds. They had more important things to deal with just now.

The three of them put their tribute gifts down on the ground, beside the doorway that led back out. Now that they were in the dungeon, the entrance had changed form. It was no longer a high set of wooden double doors. Now it was a cave entrance, a rough tunnel leading away up toward a bright light. If they went back up there, they would find themselves outside again.

Todd came up beside Sarah, while Josh hung back, his crossbow ready.

Sarah and Todd scanned the big chamber, looking for any sign of enemies. They did not have to look far.

There was a chittering, screeching noise, and a shadowy form appeared at the other side of the cave. It rushed toward them, its many legs clicking horribly on the stone floor.

“Spider!” shouted Sarah. She sheathed her short sword and drew her massive double-hander, leaping forward to confront the spider. It was massive, as tall as she was, and each leg was as thick as Todd’s thigh. Bristling, razor-sharp spines covered its legs and its bloated body, and a cackling, gloating sound came from its slavering mouth parts. Rank upon rank of black eyes glowed with a horrible intelligence.

She and her team had never fought spiders before. They were hard to create in VR, and so they were generally left out and replaced with easier enemies. Sarah was ready.

She swung her sword at the monster’s legs, taking one off at the joint. The creature flailed backward, blood spurting from its severed limb, then it swung another clawed foot at her.

The blow rang against her armor, and she heard the twang of Josh’s crossbow release. The heavy steel bolt smashed into the creature’s head,

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