Dreamweaver Chapter 127






Each of the other teams has already gone to their own meeting and preparation functions. So now we’re stuck with the big guy.

The big hooded guy turns to greet us. He cracked his knuckles for effect and rolled his neck and shoulder muscles. “Good. Now that we’re in our own area I can talk to you guys freely. I suppose you are thinking that you are going to make tons of money, become famous, and bang lots of hookers. Well screw you, that is not how it works. You’re all just a bunch of little fuckers that are my minions. Jimmy, you want to give them the truth?”

The big guy has a pretty sadistic smile on his face.

The big hooded guy gestures to one of his lackeys. This guy’s sadistic look is worse than the big guys and full of smugness.

The other guy clears his throat as he’s walking up to us. I guess a big head honcho guy like this would have his lieutenants in place and this guy surely acts like one with a lot of confidence. There’s something weird about this big boss guy though. He’s like covered in clothing and shadows. I had already noticed earlier that he’s too tall for a human. Plus the really wide hulk like shoulders. But even his fingers are like…taped up or bound in small bits of cloth and gloves up to the elbows so I still can’t tell much of his identity.

Jimmy in contrast is too short and very skinny but looks wiry and agile instead of weak and small. But like his boss, he’s actually dressed to roam a dungeon. Both of them have the heavy dark clothing for camouflage and there’s armor underneath it too. It’s a type of modified leather armor for quick and silent movement. The boss has a huge shield over his back, but Jimmy doesn’t.

Instead he’s got two short swords and a throwing knife belts and pouches sewn into every crevasse and part of his uniform. So he’s a knife thrower specialist of some kind it seems. Can such a workup work in reality?


There’s like a good twelve or so of the pouches on his complex homemade getup holding really sharp looking vicious knives. He’s ready to move too with knife belt pouches, a vest that is devoted entirely to throwing knife sheathes, and even with some knife sheathes at the bottom of the back part of the vest, and even the shoulders. He’s got practice knowing exactly where each knife is like its instinct. I suspect he has a few more also that I don’t know about and can’t see.

Even while we talk to him sometimes he’s doing some kind of mental check to speed tap where some of them are to be ready and practice quickness. Jimmy is clearly a veteran, and he’s some kind of close combat fighter that uses knives before closing the distance. He’s also got a lot of scars that have long healed up. He’s been a dungeon fighter for some time by the look of things. And he’s got a funny accent too. He looks like a classic Middle Eastern type but is mostly clean shaven with a stubby goatee and big side burns. Is that because of being somehow related to the Egyptians? Perhaps he is descended from the Egyptian group nearby?

It also turns out that Svinn’s men also came over later on to inspect how well our team seems to get along first.

“Are you sure this is how you will have your rookies equipped?” he raised an eyebrow at the big huge guy that’s in charge of us.

“They’ll be fine. You just worry about the dwarves. I’ll worry about my people,” he countered in his deep baritone voice.

“I’m pretty sure you could do better at equipping them, even if you were on a tight budget. We have a lot of discounted second hand goods,” the dwarf counters.

“Mind your own business dwarf. This is our team and my say is the law for when we’re in the dungeon. By your own code I have the right to decide how my team is setup,” his fancy dressed lackey says to support him.

“Surely you could spare a few copper at least. My gosh, that one there has a rusty pitchfork, and that other fellow is using a homemade staff that looks like it will snap at the first blow,” Svinn’s secretary exclaimed.

“Shut up if you value your life,” Moose said.

“Watch your town. There’ll be no threatening of a city law magistrate or their assistants,” Svinn said clearing his throat.

“Of course not, I was just teasing you a bit,” the big guy explained it away casually.

I could see they didn’t like each other much though.

The dwarf shrugs but backs up a bit, “fine have it your way…for now,” he added the last part at the last second. The big guy continues to glower at him angrily until he leaves.

“Good, let’s get started,” the big guy said finally now that he’s gone.

The dwarf secretary for Svinn walks down the line of people eyeing us individually.

Svinn has been standing a bit further off. Apparently he doesn’t like standing too close to Moose and his lieutenant. He had his hands close to his weapon hanging from his belt too I noticed.

After a little while the dwarven chaperones leave, but that makes a lot of us nervous since any three year old could tell Moose and Jimmy have the vibe that screams of a semi-villainous nature.

“All right folks listen up. I have just a little time to brief you. I want you to understand what we’re up against,” Jimmy is serious but fair. But his boss, the big guy, is almost like he’s sneering this whole time.

“I don’t understand why we’re here. I never wanted to be an adventurer. And why is you are our boss? Why can’t we make our own teams?” a little scrawny guy that looks like he’s about to pee himself says. He’s the rusty pitchfork wielder. I sort of wish I had a weapon repair spell of some kind just to give him a fighting chance. I think he knows already his chance for survival is slim to none.

“Dwarven law states that to enter a dungeon we have to have a quota of men first. We have to have a team of ten minimum. The other teams also have to have ten each and people don’t get any exceptions even if they are related to the King himself. Because of historical…experience we got a bonus of two extra men. According to dwarven law we also need to ensure a survivability of at least three team members for the big boss to keep his position as team lead. And by law you have to have a certain number of successful missions before you are granted provision in your license to allow yourself to be your own team leader and have your own team,” Jimmy said looking proudly.

That explains a lot. That’s why I wasn’t able to go on my own.

“Only three minimum for counting yourself successful?! That’s terrible!” Someone protested in the back.

“No wonder they did a draft this time!” another said.

“Shit, I knew I should have become a coal miner instead,” a weak voice in the back said.

“If I get through this I can still get a farm going. I just have to live through this and then cancel my application status,” another guy said.

“Shut up punk! Buck up and be a man you small fries,” Moose said.

“Eh? They did a draft? Don’t you guys want to be here?” I said.

They all started laughing at me. I realized I’d said the wrong thing.

“Well I was forced to be here after the three strikes rule for stealing from the markets,” one guy said.

“No shit! Me too!” Another guy said empathetically.

“Why are they laughing?” I asked Jimmy, who is laughing so hard he’s wiping a tear from his eyes and chuckling madly.

He shrugged. “Being an adventurer hasn’t had a good survival rate in the last five years. Some say it’s partly based on not enough magic classes, but the truth is its just dangerous even if you have a mage of any kind. There’s been a lot of monsters lately that have migrated to this region in both our side and in the demon realm.”

“But adventurer’s make a lot of money with a license,” I protested.

“Ahh shit, you have a license?” The big boss, Moose, looked at me funny. I don’t like that look. It’s the look of snake eyes sizing up a mouse.

“Of course I do,” I said. I won’t let them intimidate me.

“Fuck that,” he said glaring at me.

He looks like he might hit me, and instinctively my hand went to the hilt of my axe.

“Easy, I was just kidding,” he faked playing nice but we both know it’s a matter of time before his aggression comes out again. He noticed I move casually without shaking in my boots like the others.

I want to quit now. This dwarven immigration system stinks. Well it’s not only the immigration system but also how they have their dungeon containment system overlapping with that part of the law.

He and Jimmy look at each other funny. I don’t like the look. They clearly don’t like that idea.

“Looks like we have a fighter,” Jimmy noted watching me. Of course he means in spirit and willpower, not my actual job.

“Less commission now,” the boss boomed while crossing his arms. He glowered at me.

“That means less in the cut for us,” Jimmy growls.

“But if more of us are prepared then we will do better in the long run and more kills will mean more income. You aren’t seeing this for the opportunity it is,” I said.

“Yeah, but too many hands in the pot makes us poor,” Jimmy countered.

His boss grunted. “How am I going to pay for my hoes’, when too many people have a license? Shit.” He’s shaking his head and swearing like a sailor in a rainstorm.

I don’t have a good feeling about these guys. But the exit is already cut off. The dwarves are trying to get everyone to get ready to enter the dungeon already. The last call to quit had already finished some time ago.

“So are all of us new, except you two?” I asked.

Jimmy shrugged, “I imagine so. Except maybe that dwarf over at the end that’s trying to blend in has a look of someone fairly solid looking, the others are all newbies. It’s going to be a hellish run today folks,” he finished.

“So how does this work?” the thin reedy voiced guy that sounds scared says. He’s carrying a miner’s pick and a rusty hammer. He’s the same guy that thought being a coal miner might not be so bad.

It would suck to be able to be hit by that. His arm strength wouldn’t kill you but the tetanus scratches would.

Where did they get these guys anyway? From a prison? I have a bad feeling.

“What was that?” someone asked.

“Ahh nothing,” I muttered back.

We’re lining up and then I have my next question.

“I don’t get it, why is there a shortage of people for dungeon work? My sources were saying it’s the best money?” I said.

They all laughed.

“It was, until we started losing the war. Then four years ago the dungeons started killing everyone on massive levels and it was like even the first levels were all on steroids, not even counting the lower levels. Over night the survival rate per dungeon dropped from 80 percent per run to half that,” Jimmy explained.

For looking like a medieval mafia boss, at least Jimmy looks like he knows what he’s doing. He has a confident swagger about him that even Moose seems to respect.

“And because of it we had to have them implement a draft to keep them contained. It included also a provision to use ex cons and prison inmates. It’s actually a pretty good deal to stay free and not have your hand chopped off for stealing if you are willing to work the dungeons for the military,” the big guy said.

Crap. This is so crappy. This is what the fuck man?! How can this world be so freaking screwed up! And the dwarves were supposed to have a better system than the others…

No wonder half the guys here look all redneck and have prison bar codes of some kind on their arms and are branded. There’s a lot of snickering on the back line.

“I say we dump him. He’s too naïve he won’t survive,” the thin reedy voiced guy said.

Oh they were talking about me?


I’ll show them.

Still I have to wipe the surprised look off my face.

“How does this work? Aren’t I supposed to kill him?” the thin reedy voiced guy is trying to stir up his fellows.

There’s more snickering and laughing along our line of men. I don’t let it get to me because I know deep down they are all weak and I’m strong.

But nobody likes getting laughed at.

I am sooo glad I didn’t bring Asakura and Rina in front of these monkeys. I’ll probably have to solo a bit until I can get provision for me to be my own team, come to think of it.

That makes me edgy. What if I have to feed.

The attitude of the men around me is more confirmation that I got on the wrong team. They would for sure try to kill me and take my women if I’d brought either Asakura or Sunghee here. Even just one of them was so beautiful they’d start a riot. But a crowd of thugs and degenerates like this one would riot on even a female with one eye and one leg probably.

If anything this has to be Team Ex Con or Team Pirate Scum. I think I hesitated too long. I wasn’t ready for the fact that the dungeon teams were seedy havens of the worst characters imaginable.

Within seconds the crowd of like eight or nine guys is jeering and cheering for the rusty miner’s pick guy to stick me with it. I can’t believe it! They are all instantly shouting, “fight, fight, fight!” I didn’t even pick a fight with him. He just wanted to gut someone and I have the face of a really young person.

How did it get to this so quickly?

I protest to the big guy. But instead of protecting me, he fuels their fighting rage.

“Fair enough. We can do a quick duel before getting the dungeon started. It’ll be fun actually,” the big boss with the deep voice growled. Within about five seconds they’ve drawn a chalk ring on the floor in our room.

“First one to leave the circle dies,” the boss said.

Jimmy also confirms it right after.

My mouth is hanging open in shock. How can they condone this? The dwarves don’t care? Well mostly we’re isolated away from the others. And if a lot of these guys are ex cons then the pity from them will be small.

The men are placing bets and money is changing hands with Jimmy being the bookie with a scorecard. So far the tally is in favor of rusty miner’s pick guy  against me. It can’t be helped  because he looks like he’s got about ten years ahead of me and I look like a teenager.

I’m lucky I had my buffs up from distrust long before I’d gotten here. He also didn’t see my weaponry is superior.

He can’t keep up with my movement speed buff and other buffs while I buy time to summon my fire axe. That surprised the onlookers. Now they are more serious about thinking this fight will be something good to watch. The whole time they are jeering, is a bit distracting. Some of them even push at me from behind, when the other guy is swimming at me, which I had to compensate for.

This guy with the mining pick is better than I thought. It was a mistake to just think he was trailer trash and I make it a point to not underestimate him. If it weren’t for the buffs he would be all over me, and his body is toned from handling real work and confronting the harshness of this world. His pick almost went in my head, though if his hit had connected it would have hit my shield.

I didn’t want him to know I’ve got a magic shield up.

So I looped out with my fireman’s axe and used a telekinesis push to sharpen and extend the reach of my blow to hook it behind his knee and trip him. Then with my right leg I kicked out and pushed him on his back.

“Surrendur,” I commanded.

And just like that the fight is over. He was pretty strong, but he went up against a power he didn’t respect or understand. He lands with his head sticking out of the ring, and the top part of his shoulders and arms.

There’s an awkward silence. Everyone saw the magic. They also saw how quickly I’d cleaned the clock of the half starved redneck miner.

I kind of wanted to spare his life though, because I felt sorry for how pathetic he looked.

“Finish him,” the big guy said.

“I don’t kill for sport. We need everyone in the dungeon. I’ll let it go just this once,” I said.

“Screw you bitch!” I moved to get up but instead the big boss’s heavy boot lands on his neck forcing him down. I hear a sickening crunch from the heavy metal spiked soles of Moose’s huge feet and how heavy he was as he was leaning into it. Instantly his windpipe is crushed and the neck bones snapped under it. But he didn’t stop there, and kicked the head so hard the man’s neck is broken instantly a second time if that’s even possible and he died right then and there.

“I thought I said that the first one to leave the circle dies! I’m the one in charge, now you!” he snarled. Then he slammed the sharp edge of a huge black bladed battle axe across the rusty miner’s pick guys neck. He’s now decapitated.


We haven’t even started the dungeon yet, and now we only have nine people left on our team plus the bonus two.

I’m still a bit stunned when Jimmy hands me a small bit of change respectfully and looking at me a bit differently. Despite Moose being threatened by me, he’s got a strange odd look of respect. “Here, not bad for your first time. You might just have some skills yet.”

“Eh? What’s this?” I asked.

“It isn’t good enough for you?” Jimmy looks offended somehow.

“Err…I’m just confused about how this works?” I said.

“Duel winner always gets a share in the pot. Its gambler rules for adventurers which are accepted in this region,” he explained giving me an odd look.

Ah so that’s why he’s offended. The lure of money rules people like him.


“So are you ready to go? What about the loser’s weapons?” he asked.

“What about them?” I asked.

“Well according to gambler rules you also can take them if you want…although they don’t look like much,” Jimmy eyed the rusty pick like it was only worth a few copper and as if it were tainted somehow. It looks like it’d been fixed a few times from breaking.

“I don’t think I’d get much on the market for a homeless guy’s gear,” I said.

That made Jimmy and Moose chuckle.

The men cheered as I gave away the dead guy’s gear to the poorest of our remaining group of nine.

The boss and Jimmy didn’t like that I was gaining popularity however.

“Oh looks like we’ve been summoned,” Jimmy nods as a dwarf in a military uniform, gestures for us to follow him. I notice he doesn’t like taking his eyes off the big boss guy in our team. Despite being in the dungeon containment and regulation committee he acts as if stuff might spill out of the dungeon at any minute or that danger could happen on us instantly.

That by itself I find very interesting.

“Are all the teams like this?” I asked Jimmy as we are leaving the room in single file. We’re following a dwarven representative to the dungeon entrance.

Jimmy has softened his attitude towards me now that he knows I’m not a pushover but I still don’t’ trust him.

“Who knows? This team isn’t so bad though. Just don’t get in the way of the boss and its cool. This is like our seventeenth run together and we always seem to make it back alive,” he said.

We keep walking through another maze. It’s surprising.

Jimmy explains it to me while we’re moving.

“The dwarves know that monsters can surge out of the dungeon at night, any time the dungeon becomes too overpopulated. It can also happen when they just get hungry. So the dwarves have to contain the dungeon itself with a security checkpoint and containment and regulation ‘committee’ which is actually more like their special forces, similar to a prison entrance and containment barriers and a whole maze worth of traps. That’s why it takes so much time just to prepare to go in with several guard stations and fences.”

“Thanks for explaining,” I said.

He snorted. “I’m not your friend or your ally. This is just following basic procedures. Dwarven law requires all mercenaries to be aware of basic operating procedures and how the containment structure works. At least those that we think will survive to tell about it,” he fumed. I noticed he was looking at the rest of the poverty ridden team that looked like they weren’t going to make it.

What did I do to offend him? And I don’t like how he looked at the others, but masked my emotions from my face.

We find ourselves in the middle of an arena that has a sharpshooter ring position around the dungeon entrance. It’s a staircase in the middle that goes down to what looks like a double set of basement freezer doors, except it’s made from stone instead of metal. Of course to get here, we’d walked through a parapet system high above the ground to circumvent the whole maze system below us. That system then emptied out into the gathering area where we now stood. 

“So that’s it. It’s my first time getting this close,” someone said in the back. He sounds like ten degrees beyond nervous as fuck.

“I don’t know. I want to go home now,” another scared guy says.

“I should have told my mom I love her one last time,” one guy blubbered.

“Oh come on you pansies. Get a grip,” Jimmy said.

Near us the two other teams are also at different positions from the door. One team is on the opposite side of the door on the east side, while we’re on the west side. The dwarven officials themselves are presiding over the north side, and the last team is on the south. 

I can’t read the dwarves’ runic writing but as the other teams check in I can see the officials are tallying who has licenses and experience being in dungeons and who doesn’t. Svinn is with them because he’s got the language enchant, then there’s a scribe with him that’s taking the tallies, and a third dwarven soldier acting like a bodyguard.

They are then putting all this information into a sort of strange looking spell sequence that I suspect governs over loot rolls and loot distribution. Jimmy and Moose don’t like it I can tell by the way they are hatefully watching them put it together for each team. They also are looking at the other teams covetously.

We learn some things watching the other teams go through the security checkpoints. The other first team has four licensees, and three new people, with three others being experienced in dungeons but not having licenses we can see while waiting on standby. Svinn and his group then move onto the next guy’s team.

So their survival rate is probably the highest, but the poverty level on our side is also really high too?

This one is also outclassing us I suspect.

Sure enough as the other second team goes through we see there are a whopping five with adventurer’s licenses, and five brand new people with no one there else with experience. It’s weird that it’s like that in its own way however. You would think there’d be more people in the middle ground and not just extreme new people and veterans with no middle veterans, if that’s the word for it.

So it also means that the survival rate of the members of that team is 50 percent? It’s a lower survival rate but less of them are in poverty. I can see the five guys with licenses are all dressed much better than the others, some of them even look like they have good equipment.

So they achieve economic superiority through the sacrifice of pawns…jeez how wonderful, I thought. Well…there’s a possibility I’m just judgmental and wrong.

Then there’s our team. Everyone looks like a homeless person or fresh from the farm or prison except for Jimmy, and the big boss ‘Moose’. I sort of look better than homeless but no armor either. But in contrast, actually I hadn’t been looking for it until now when comparing all of them together but Jimmy and the big boss have a lot of ‘bling’, silver earings and necklaces, and fancy boots with spurs and all kinds of things.

I mean like gold rings, jewels, brooches, you name it. They both look pretty rich. But the previous areas we had been organized in were so dark that I hadn’t seen it yet.

So does that mean they were purposefully taking losses before so they’d get a bigger share? I don’t like this.

Finally Svinn comes over to our team.

“Llandor, I see you have become acquainted with your new team,” Svinn acknowledges our bigger team lead. Llandor is glaring.

I still think moose fits him better than Llandor but if I said that to him I have no doubt he could punch me through a wall.

He grunts in response.

“Two licensees, and all new recruits,” Jimmy says.

“You mean three,” Svinn said pointing at me.

“He doesn’t have a license,” Jimmy objects. Jimmy had stepped in front of me.

“Yes I do,” I said.

“Shut up,” Jimmy stepped on my foot hard. My shielding hadn’t predicted a friendly fire situation so it hurt like hell.

“Yes he does. I helped him get it myself. I see you two are up to your old tricks. I’ve got my eye on both of you,” Svinn glared at Jimmy.

Wow, so early to have friction like this? And they were told that earlier that I had a license. I think he lied on purpose.

Jimmy and Llandor are glaring at me.

“Punk…you’ll pay for this,” Llandor said, after Svinn has walked away with his people. They had said it when the dwarves were out of earshot.

I just shrug. “What? Come on it’ll be fun!”

“If he doesn’t’ come back I’ll nail you for this,” Svinn reminded them as he walked off.

They are still glaring me.

Already the other two teams have gone into the entrance while police dwarves are still watching the dungeon entrance.

I’ll play along for now. But I’m going to have to watch my back with these two. I know it and they know it. Somehow I think there’s going to be an accident or several accidents on the way.

“Aren’t they going to give us a map or something?” a few of the new guys asked suddenly.

“Are you a blockhead? This is the Ever dungeon. It changes every time you go in it. Maps are useless here,” Jimmy sneers.

“What?” several of us exclaimed at once.

I didn’t know there was such a thing. How the hell do you get out?

“I didn’t know that,” someone said.

“That sounds dangerous,” another poor guy with a week’s worth of unshaven beard said.

“Yeah, you heard me. This dungeon changes daily. So maps are no good,” he said.

“Does every floor change every day or just one floor per day?” I asked.

“EVERY floor, every day changes you know. So we have to find the exit first before we even go find the first staircase to the next level,” he explained.

“Fuck! I never knew it was like that!” one of the new human guys said. He looks like he’s been given a death sentence.

Well maybe it is, now that I think of how technically challenging this could be.

“We’ll find it, I’m a tunneling expert. It’s my job to find tunnels. Leave that to me,” the dwarf in our group finally speaks up. He’s our only dwarf. The rest are all humans, except for whatever Moose is while trying to pass as a human.

“Not good. Something tells me this guy is going to want a little extra for it. I say we veto it,” Jimmy scowled at the dwarf.

The dwarf shrugs, “you know this dungeon is very complicated. It’s a small, very small tip in fact. Just you know a 2 percent gain on the total revenue accrued before splits.”

Jimmy scowled even more. “That’s not cool.”

But he had to admit it was the perfect counter skill against a dungeon that reset its layout every day. Both Moose and he are considering it as they talk in hushed voices. Finally they seem to reach a conclusion. They look like they are still in a fairly good mood but not a terrific one.

“Two percent isn’t very much. We can deal with that, if it will help ensure we find the exit sooner and that we live,” it was Moose that said it.

“Do we get a say in this?” one of the new recruits added.

“Yeah, we want a vote too,” another new ex-farmer guy said.

“Yeah I want like eggs and bacon in like provisions so we can have them like in jerky bags. Cold drinks like a beer or two, and a luggage team,” one of the newbie’s was voicing his dreaming big.

“Can’t we like hire a luggage porter too? I don’t want to be carrying monster parts,” another whiner chips in.

“Now that you mention it, it would get kind of dirty carrying that sort of thing wouldn’t it?” said the other ex-farmer.

The others looked at him like he was nuts.

“Shut the hell up, you mother f*@#@ers!” Jimmy barks them into order quickly, while eyeing Moose. It’s clear that if Moose had handled it, it would have been more than yelling at them. Moose’s big fists are twitching too.

“This isn’t no freaking picnic,” Moose’s hateful voice shook him back to reality. He was about to slap some of them but Jimmy intervened.

“I’ll take care of it boss,” Jimmy acknowledged.

“OK, fine,” Moose gives in.

“At any rate 2 percent is generous, but not too obtrusive to the group either. I also can assure you my skills will work in finding the exit quicker and ensure better survival. Thank you,” the dwarf was very humble, even dropping his hat in humility.

Just two percent, I thought. Hmm…will the others want to murder him for it both from above him and below him?

“Just make sure we find the exit fast. I don’t like that aspect of this dungeon,” even Llandor voiced his concerns. He tapped a dagger he was holding against the side of his knee. Wow, his arms are huge. I’d notice his height but not the massive biceps because of how heavy his robes looked.

But the fact that a big guy like him can get intimidated is quite interesting.

Jimmy looked unaffected in posture but the rings around his eyes and facial expression looked serious. I think Jimmy is better out of the two at masking his emotions.

Jimmy and Llandor both look excited. “Very cool. I like having useful guys if they can be efficient. The rest of you should be useful like this dwarf here,” Jimmy sneered at us yanking a thumb at the new dwarf.

The dwarf doesn’t look happy at the public attention. It’s partly because all the other lower peons are glaring at him like he stole their bacon and eggs.

“Just so you remember, we expect some efficiency and for you to work hard,” Moose jabbed his finger at the dwarf’s direction. Now the dwarf looks a bit scared, and I would be too.

“So we have an edge in finding the exit. That’s good,” someone said.

“Yeah but the Ever dungeon also has more square footage per floor than other dungeons on this continent. So we have a lot of work,” Llandor growled.

“We better hurry, it looks like they are signaling us now that it’s our turn to go in the gate,” Jimmy said.

We turn and notice he’s right. The dwarves are signaling us to keep up and wondering what the holdup is with why we’re dragging our feet to get to the dungeon gate entrance.


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