Rancid ooze dripped out of the cracks of both cocoons, chunky and yellow like fat removed by liposuction. The ooze melted more and more of the cocoon’s outer shell as it poured out. After a few long minutes, the cocoons were no more. No Mana Crystals, gear, or even a trace that a Necro-Shaman had ever been inside were left behind. Just ooze.
Deep inside the putrid glop, Garath saw a flash of silver, but he wasn’t about to wade into the fetid substance. That’s what he had demons for.
Garath cringed as Bill stuck his whole face into the vile ooze. Wagging his stumpy tail, the gunk-covered Felhound dropped a key at Garath’s feet. *Good boy! Now go get the other one.*
A few seconds later, Garath and Daisy held the final keys.
The fourth Necro-Shaman Key has been accepted.
One of you must use it to pass through the door in the next 30 seconds.
For each Key that reaches its expiration here, one member of your Party will be chosen at random to stay in Chuchusullay permanently.
When all five Keys have either been used to open a door or allowed to expire, some, if not all, are allowed to retire.
The fifth Necro-Shaman Key has been accepted.
One of you must use it to pass through the door in the next 30 seconds.
For each Key that reaches its expiration here, one member of your Party will be chosen at random to stay in Chuchusullay permanently.
When all five Keys have either been used to open a door or allowed to expire, some, if not all, are allowed to retire.
Like before, a pair of free-standing wooden doors appeared in the clearing. Holding a silver key in his mouth, Garath looked up helplessly at the door in front of him. There was no way he’d be able to get the key into its hole, unlock the door, and then twist the handle in House Cat form. Desperate, he turned to Daisy for help, but only caught a glimpse of blond curls disappearing into the blackness beyond before the door slammed shut behind her. He hated himself for doing it, but going back to his natural form was the only way to finish this gods forsaken dungeon. Bitterly, Garath shimmered into his human form. The second he did, a wave of relief swept over him. He’d forgotten how bloody tainted his House Cat form had become. It was almost like a completely different person. Garath made a mental note to be wary of using the form in the future, or at least to make sure his friends knew about the megalomaniac he became in the adorable body. With the clock ticking, he’d have to put more thought into it later. He unlocked the door before him, opened it, and walked in.
Garath wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting to see on the other side of the door, but he’d certainly been expecting to see something. Instead, everything was black. A heavy, oppressive darkness squeezed him as if he were deep underground in a place the light hadn’t touched in centuries. He couldn’t hear anything either. If it wasn’t for his +300% increased sense of smell, Garath may as well have been in a sensory deprivation chamber. As it was though, he could tell that he wasn’t alone in this place. A quick look inward also let Garath know that he wasn’t alone within his own mind either. Bill and Handsome were occupying the place in Garath’s mind that they always did when they were dismissed. Deep inside of himself he also felt the comforting presence of Tarzan, the new, white-light version of Tarzan. The comforting presence that had been completely absent while he was a cat.
The Necrologist took a few probing sniffs and was relieved when he recognized the scents of the other members of his Party. They were close, all four of them.
And then something brushed past his ankle. Remembering the poem’s warning about not making sound, he was barely able to suppress the shriek trying to escape his lips. Breathing as quietly as he could manage, Garath got to his knees and reached out blindly with both hands, feeling only open air until his right hand contacted something completely unexpected. A soft, fluffy puppy.
Gradually, almost imperceptibly, the room around him began to lighten and take shape as Garath continued petting the little fluff-bucket scampering around his ankles. The welcome sight of Sharon’s silhouette appeared ten feet in front of him, and Garath stood. The room continued to lighten, and the forms of Auto and Atlas became visible behind her. Not seeing Daisy, Garath began to panic. He turned around though, and there she was, sitting cross legged with a puppy in her lap. When the room’s light was enough to easily see by, Garath’s jaw dropped. There were puppies everywhere. There had to be a hundred wagging tails. If a dungeon boss appeared out of nowhere at that moment and started killing these adorable creatures, Garath would never forgive whatever ‘entity’ created the place.
Thankfully, that didn’t happen. Another look around revealed five wooden chests. Rewards for completing a dungeon. Garath wiped a joy-filled tear from his cheek and bent to scratch the ears of a puppy happily jumping up on his leg. After a happy reunion, the Party continued to play with the puppies for long, therapeutic minutes. Garath couldn’t wipe the ridiculous smile from his face if he’d wanted to. Filled to the brim with a light-hearted happiness, Garath wasn’t sure why the final room of this dungeon was filled with puppies. He guessed he’d probably never know, but he had some ideas.
Finally, each member of the Party moved to stand in front of a chest and pressed their hands against them to reveal the rewards within. Garath received two items from his chest and drank in the system-provided details at a glance.
Gloves of
