Treatos and Snoozers - From the Upcoming Rogue Dungeon Anthology

                                                                      Treatos and Snoozers

                                                                              by J.D. Astra

Clashes of steel on steel rang out in the halls of the Cruel Citadel. The level one [Stone Salamander] dashed across the ceiling, perfectly camouflaged. Three enemies hacked and slashed at the little blue Changelings who threw themselves carelessly into battle. The Stone Salamander—Mander—knew better. He would wait.

The slender Elf turned away from the hulking Rog and stout human, scouting ahead with her bow. This was Mander’s moment. She turned the corner down the long hall, Mander prowling above her, his sharp, stabby teeth ready.

She paused, her eyes losing focus.

Now.

Mander deactivated [Sticky Toes] and twisted mid-air. He sailed toward his target, salivating at the thought of her yummy meat. His jaw opened wide and he landed on the Elf with a thunk. She collapsed to the ground in a blood-garbled scream as he sank his needle-like teeth deep into her throat. The Elf struggled to free herself from his weight, and Mander twisted, ripping into her tender nummies.

Oh, so good!

One of the heroes moved toward the hall. “K-dawg, you okay?” the nasally boy asked.

The Elf bucked under Mander, gurgling for help as her health bar over her head plummeted by the second.

“Get off her, ugly lizard!” The boy screamed.

Mander heard the Rog’s heavy footfalls behind him and snapped out of the delicious trance. He activated [Vicious Bite], tearing through the Elf’s neck and leaving a bloody chunk in his mouth. The tall, slender woman’s health bar drained down to critical, and finally emptied. When the Elf sighed her last purling breath, Mander took off at a wiggling run. His fat, paddle-like tail whipped from side to side and he scampered down the hall toward the feast chamber.

“Oh no you don’t!” the Rog said with arRogance, his boot-falls louder than before.

Mander heard the swipe of a blade through the air and leapt onto the wall, activating [Sticky Toes] once more. The metal scrapped against the stone floor and the Rog growled. Mander scampered up the stones as he rounded the corner into the feast chamber. It was tall enough that no melee opponent could reach him on the ceiling. With their archer dead, Mander knew he was relatively safe.

When he was well out of the Rog’s reach, he turned back to look at the angry hero.

The Rog snarled and declared, “You’ll pay for that you little twerp,” as he swung his axe wildly up the wall.

Mander slurped up the bit of chewy throat meat in his teeth with satisfying chirp, then licked bloody goop from eyeball. This infuriated the Rog. His desperate attempts to reach Mander would not succeed, but it would be best for the Stone Salamander to run and hide. Mander had gotten what he fought for: a tasty treato.

[Reaver Bats] swooped down at the Rog, screeching their high-pitched calls. Mander knew the bats wanted treatos, just the same as he did. Perhaps he’d let them pick the Elf clean when he was done with it. Mander activated [Mirror Camouflage] and disappeared into his surroundings.

“Get back here coward!” the Rog shouted, throwing his axe haphazardly up the wall as he swung his off-hand at the dive-bombing bats.

Mander dodged, then climbed his way onto the ceiling scampering into a warm spot in the next hall over. He would wait out the heroes there in comfort, then return to the downed Elf for a few more nibbles, and some to share with the helpful bats.

The warm spot glowed with red-hot embers in a short, stony basin. There were strange tables, hanging spikes, and weapons Mander would not want used against him lying about. It was safe enough when the room was unmanned, so the salamander crawled down to the floor and curled up next to the pit of coals.

Executing the Elf had given Mander just enough experience to level up. Without a thought, Mander allocated the stat points into strength and dexterity. Strike hard, strike fast; that’s how he knew to win. It had served him well so far, and that was good enough for him.

Mander heard the Rog and the human blunder through the halls for another few minutes before leaving the dungeon. They wouldn’t move on without their third-party member. The Floor Overseer, Ugoraz the Vile, would leave none alive, and the small, two-man party didn’t stand a chance against him and his horrible whip.

Mander’s back itched with a pain from long ago. He had been on the other end of that whip once. He’d abandoned his post for a bit of warm stone to lay against, and a big party of heroes came blundering through, wiping out the entire level. Every creature that had not performed their duties to the best of their abilities had been punished, and Mander’s negligence had earned him five painful lashings.

When the halls were quiet—all the fallen creatures waiting for respawn—Mander made his way back to the downed Elf. He rounded the final corner when he saw someone had already come to claim his kill!

The bigger, level three Stone Salamander stood over the Elf like a proud hunter, as if she’d done anything at all. Mander waddled within a few feet of the other salamander, then lifted his front legs in a big show of strength. He hissed through the back of his throat and bared his pointy teeth.

The thieving salamander—Sal—reared up in the same way. Mander advanced on his back to feet, arching his back in a painful display of dominance. He hissed again, louder. Mander had earned his treat, and Sal didn’t deserve a bite for doing nothing.

After a tense moment, Sal dropped down in defeat and Mander darted in, snapping and hissing. Sal turned sideways as she pulled away from the body. Mander continued to hiss and bite at the air as he inched closer to his prize.

He snapped precariously close to Sal, and she took the advantage. She twisted her back and lifted her tail, then clubbed Mander’s head. His skull bounced against the ground and he growled in pain. A red, filigreed health bar appeared in the corner of his vision and promptly dropped by a sixth as bright starbursts filled raced across his bulbous eyes.

Pain radiated from his fat head-shoulder joint as dagger-like teeth clamped down on him. The vial in the corner of his vision dropped another sixth, flashing a deep red. Mander growled and pulled away. Sal advanced, flashing bloodied teeth and hissing as she moved. But he wasn’t giving up that easily. Not when there were treatos on the line.

Mander backed up the wall, turning his toes to suction cups as he moved. There was a torch above him, and with a little flick of his tail, he knocked it loose. The fiery stick dropped down on Sal, who elicited a wild yipe of surprise and confusion.

With her distracted, Mander leapt down. He slapped his tail against her head and activated the same ability she had used, [Tail Flail].

[Batter your target with your fat tail, dealing 2x damage with a +50% chance to critical strike.]

Sal’s head smacked against the wall and Mander landed on her wide back. The air whoofed from Sal’s hissing mouth as she flattened against the ground. The red bar over her head dropped by a good chunk, but Mander wasn’t done yet!

Mander turned, wrapping his suckered fingers around Sal’s shoulders to hold her still. He bit down on her eye and Sal shrieked. She bucked free from his hold and scampered off, leaving a trail of blood in her wake. Mander let her go. He didn’t want Sal to die—he didn’t want any Stone Salamander to have to die—but the Elf was his, and he’d defended the kill righteously.

He looked left, right, then up, and when he felt there were no other possible intruders on his meal, he set to ripping chunks from the Elf’s backside. The fattier the meat, the better. Elf meat was rarely fatty, but elves didn’t often wear thick armor on the neck or head. Prime victims for overhead assassination.

When Mander’s health vial was refilled, and he’d taken the best bits off his kill, he dragged the body out to the bats. They began their swooping feast, and Mander retreated to his warm spot in the room with scary weapons. There were a few toasty places around the Cruel Citadel—Mander’s forever home—but none as secluded and nice as the torture chamber. The chamber often went unmanned, and so few heroes ventured in.

When his skin was thoroughly heated, Mander got up to go on patrol. He didn’t want to get whipped again, so he spent limited time basking in warm places or slacking off. He stretched, his muscles feeling relaxed and ready for action.

Another Stone Salamander—Tonee—weaved his way into the torture chamber to take Mander’s spot next to the coals. The level one creature gave a warning hiss, but Mander ignored him. Tonee wasn’t a threat, and recognizing his defensive gesture would only provoke him. Better to keep waddling.

The entrance hall of the first level was still empty from the last raiding party, which meant Mander would have to be extra careful. Enemies wouldn’t have distractions to pull their attention, and if they were high enough level, they could spot Mander even through his Mirror Camouflage.

“Looks like someone wiped it out,” a female said from the rocky opening to the graveyard.

Mander cocked his head to the side and his bulbous eyes focused on the intruder, a human in shining armor. No, she would not do. Her defenses were too strong. She took a few tentative steps down into the entrance hall, her shield upheld and ready to deflect projectiles. It was too bad Mander didn’t have any projectiles or magick.

Next, a robed human appeared in the opening. Perfect target. Cloth gave no resistance to Mander’s sharp teeth and robe wearers often had little healthy. Two more party members emerged; an Elf in leather—a more difficult but still feasible target—and an Olm in chainmail. This wouldn’t be easy, but if Mander could separate them, he could have a chance with the leathery one, or the robed one. The robed one would have the tastier meats…

“I’ll check it out,” the leather-clad Elf said, then disappeared as he reached the bottom step. Mander knew he was up against a sneaky snake. The cloaked Elf would scout ahead, thinking he was safe shrouded in the darkness he adopted. But Mander was born in the darkness.

He blinked his big eyes and focused on the shadows until he saw the shape of the Elf prowling his way. The other three heroes took it slow, clustered together in a group that made them feel secure.

The Elf walked under Mander and into the next hallway. Mander skittered around the corner, his sticky toes silent on the cold stone. He salivated as the Elf wandered farther and farther from the group. Elf twice in one day, what a treat.

“Anything?” the woman in the armor called in a hushed voice.

“Not a single mob,” the Elf replied. Or so he thought.

Mander jumped from the ceiling, performing his aerial acrobatic twist as he did. He sailed right onto his target and triggered [Tail Flail]. The Elf pitched forward from the force of Mander’s weight and collapsed to the ground.

“Help—

The Elf got out a single cry before Mander’s jaw snapped around his face.

[Critical Hit!]

The notification appeared in Mander’s vision as the Elf’s skull gave a satisfying crunch. The red bar over the elf’s head flashed madly. Mander wanted to give a chirp of victory, but knew to stay quiet. The battle wasn’t over yet. He bit down again, triggering [Vicious Bite] as he did, and that was enough to put an end to the Elf.

Mander dragged his quarry down the hall and into a side room. He heard the hurried footsteps of the rest of the raiding party as they rushed to their fallen comrade. Mander tugged and pulled, his little stone heart slamming in his chest as he tried to hide his deadly work from the group.

“What was that?” one of the intruders asked from the long hall.

Mander tugged the Elf into the corner of the room, then jumped onto the wall, ready to perform the same trick again on the unsuspecting robed enemy. And that was Mander’s strategy. He couldn’t take out big parties on his own, but he could catch the squishiest off guard. The squishy ones usually had the vital role of supporting the group. Without them, the party wouldn’t go on, and Mander wouldn’t get any lashes.

The tank of the group charged into the room littered with books and an overturned table. Mander moved slowly as he crept up the wall, away from the body. The woman in shiny plate armor looked to her comrade in a bloody heap, then to the wall where Mander hid. She drew her sword slowly, her eyes locked on Mander’s tail.

Mander looked back to see bloody footprints on the wall near his rear. He hadn’t been careful enough. With caution a foregone thought, Mander scrambled away from the advancing tank. She swung her heavy sword at the wall, missing Mander by mere inches.

Sparks flew as the steel scrapped against the stone behind Mander again. He wiggled out of reach, rounding the corner of the room as he headed down the hall to the warm spot.

“Get that farkin’ thing!” the tank yelled.

Fire sailed past Mander and blasted the ceiling ahead. He veered left, avoiding the much-too-hot stones. He put on a burst of speed as another explosion erupted in a shower of fire on the ceiling next to him. Mander liked the warmth, but this heat would surely cook his toes.

“Don’t let it get away! It killed Diego!” Mander heard the tank woman scream in a fury as clomping feet followed him down the hall.

He rounded the corner to the warm torture room only to see Tonee still curled up next to the coals. Mander hid himself away in the darkest corner farthest from the opening. The team of angry heroes rushed in, fire spitting in the robed one’s hand. The other two brandished sharp weapons and sharper leers.

Mander tracked them with his bulbous eyes as the fiery one held his hand up to all the dark places. They were getting closer and closer to the still sleeping Tonee. If Mander stayed quiet, they would kill Tonee instead, leaving Mander safe to prowl after them and get his revenge.

But Tonee had never done anything wrong to Mander… Tonee just wanted to sit in the warm places and enjoy treatos.

The chainmail wearing Olm kicked a blood-filled bucked, spilling the gore across the stones to the drain below the table. Tonee’s eyes blinked open at this, and he activated his camouflage, then curled in on himself to become smaller.

The tank wheeled on the Olm with an angry snarl curling up her lip. “Quiet,” she hissed.

The fire wielder peered around the basin of coals, holding the flame up high to reveal the outline of the little level one. “There you are, you little devil,” the mage said with a grin.

Tonee trembled, pushing himself into the corner as if he could become more invisible. The tank moved around the caster who stepped back a few paces, close enough for Mander to strike. The tank raised her one-handed sword and it glimmered with golden light when she spoke mystical words.

Tonee would respawn in two hours, but Mander felt a strange tenseness behind his eyes. The sensation didn’t feel good, and Mander knew if he let the tank slice Tonee through, the tightness would only get worse.

Mander jumped from his hiding place onto the mage’s back. They fell forward, slamming the upheld fireball into the tank’s head with a sizzling crack. The tank shrieked in pain, her hand reflexively coming up to bat away the flames.

Mander chomped down on the mage’s neck—his signature move—and activated [Vicious Bite]. Tonee was fast into the fray, not wasting the opportunity to pounce on the burning tank. Mander used [Tail Flail] while still latched to the caster’s neck. His paddle like behind smashed into the robed man’s back with a snap. The caster went down hard, and the red bar above his head emptied.

The Olm in the chainmail swung a heavy axe at Mander’s head. He juked left, but the axe caught Mander’s arm with a painful chunk. Mander screeched as the enemy pulled the axe loose. The Olm wound up for another strike with a grin. Mander pulled away into the corner, trying to activate [Sticky Toes] but something was wrong with his front leg.

“I’ve got you now,” the heavy fighter said in a gruff, malicious voice.

Mander couldn’t run, his leg hurt too much, so he reared up and hissed. He could still make this intruder pay dearly. The chain-wearer swung his axe and Mander reared back, barely avoiding the strike.

Mander’s paddle tail smacked against back wall. There was nowhere else for him to retreat to. There was a sound like metal through meat, and Tonee growled in pain. Mander didn’t take his eyes of the axe wielder as he turned to look. The tank gurgled a scream and Mander heard Tonee’s teeth sinking into flesh.

Power surged through Mander’s limbs and healed the debilitating wound. He had leveled up! With renewed strength, Mander snapped at the air like an angry viper. The axe wielding hero slashed at him, but too slow. Tonee slid off the end of the tank’s sword and collapsed on the ground in a heap. He wouldn’t be of any help, though he’d already done more than enough. Mander could finish this himself.

“Come on you little dill-hole,” the axe-wielder said as he slashed the air again.

Mander lunged as the man’s guard opened. He sunk his teeth down on the hero’s leather-clad bracers, not trying to pierce, but to push. The hero had overcommitted to the swing and now his axe arm was pinned across his body. Mander pushed against the ground with his fat tail, throwing the man off balance.

They tumbled to the floor and the axe clattered with a sharp sound. Mander crawled up the hero as he screamed, then battered his legs with a [Tail Flail]. The satisfying crunch of a broken kneecap echoed in the torture chamber, and the hero squealed like an angry Reaver Bat. Saliva slathered from Mander’s long, sticky tongue.

“Stupid lizard!” the man shrieked, and his free arm groped at his belt.

Mander pressed his full weight down on the invader’s chest, snapping at his face. The man raised a small dagger and aimed for Mander’s head. The move could not escape Mander’s huge, bulbous eyes. He slapped the dagger away with a quick flick of his tongue, then spit the weapon across the room.

“Gross!” the hero cried; his hand coated in Mander’s hunger juices.

It was time to stop playing. Mander bared down on the hero, and within a two chomps, managed to grab his head. The muffled cries reverberated in Mander’s mouth but for a few moments, and then the hero went still.

Mander crawled off the man and looked to Tonee. His eyes were closed, but he whimpered softly. The blood bar that hung over his head blinked. It was nearly empty, and losing more every few seconds. Red leaked out of Tonee’s gut and pooled on the floor near the downed tank.

Mander knew Tonee would be back. He’d seen enough Stone Salamanders die and return to know he wasn’t the only one eternal in this place. Another tight sensation pulled at him to do something. But what?

Eating. Mander knew that eating would make the red fill up. He padded over to the tank and pushed aside her armor, then ripped a chunk of flesh free. Mander grabbed Tonee’s whimpering face and held open his jaws with sticky toes, then dropped the meat into his mouth.

Tonee didn’t move, and the meat just sat there. Mander chirped loudly, then grabbed Tonee’s cheeks, moving them on his own. He mooshed the meat around in Tonee’s mouth by hand, then shook his head and neck until the chewed chunk slid down his throat.

Tonee’s blood vial stopped its descent, and Mander knew he was doing it right. He repeated the feeding process three times more until Tonee weakly opened his eyes. He tried to pull away, but when Mander brought him another chunk of meat, Tonee’s whimpering stopped. When he was well enough to eat on his own, Mander went to work, pulling enough of the axe-wielder’s armor aside to get at something delicious.

They finished their meal, and it was time for Mander to return to his patrol. This time, Tonee followed him out to the hall, then up onto the wall out to the feast room. Mander turned frequently to watch him, and every time he did, Tonee stopped and lowered his head. The young salamander wasn’t scared of Mander, but he wouldn’t challenge him.

The hall was filling with the little blue Changelings once more. Everything was as it should’ve been, until Mander smelled something wrong. What was that smell? It was hot, like the coals in the scary room, burning his slender nostrils. It was sour, like old meat but not as foul. It was unlike anything he’d ever smelled before, except on some heroes.

Mander activated his camouflage and Tonee did the same not far behind him. They prowled the hall until a strange Changeling with a big, amber necklace raced through the hall. He was holding hands with another Changeling who seemed confused.

“Invaders are coming! Prepare yourselves!” the strange smelling Changeling croaked like a hero. There were letters over his head that weren’t the same as the others. Mander blinked at them, trying to understand this strange creature who appeared to be of the citadel, but most certainly was not.

The Changeling rambled on, talking to the other next to it. Mander heard the footsteps of heroes and Tonee nudged his tail. It was time to retreat to narrower passageways if they were going to be of any use.

Mander and Tonee moved back toward the warm spot, but the heroes never came. They waited so long, their camouflage failed. After many long minutes, Mander saw the strange Changeling emerge from a dead-end hall.

Mander skittered over the wall, blinking his bulbous eyes as the strange one came close. He reached out for Mander, who triggered his camouflage immediately. The Changeling touched his tail, sending electric jolts down his spine. Mander had never felt anything like that before… It hadn’t hurt, and it wasn’t a spell, but it was something.

Mander scurried away and rounded the corner toward the Floor Overseer. Was the Changeling going that way? Surely the Big Boss would smell the difference in this strange Changeling, and that would be the end of him.

They moved into the Boss’s chamber and Mander retreated to the warm room. Bodies littered the floor. There was nowhere nice to lay, so he and Tonee moved to the room adjacent to the warm spot. Tonee showed him the wall where the hot coals shared their warmth with this room, and then curled up in its glow. Mander looked about the cluttered chamber, an idea sparking.

Some of the clutter was soft and could be molded. Things like old fluff from rejected armor and bits of straw. Mander pulled the soft things closer to the warm wall, making a pile on which to lay. Yes, this was much nicer than sleeping on the cold, hard floor.

Mander dozed for a handful of minutes until he was jerked awake. Painful screams roused him, and Mander went into a panic. Had he neglected his duties once more? He camouflaged and rounded onto the ceiling, then charged down the hall. The whip cracked against skin and Mander winced. It was the strange Changeling getting his lashings. Mander remembered this pain and cowered from it. Perhaps the Strangeling would be as strong as Mander had been.

A sharp yip from Tonee snapped Mander from a painful trance. Tonee was in trouble! Mander turned his back on the scene playing out below and waddled down the hall on the ceiling with abandon, not worrying about camouflage. He rounded the corner back to their nest to see another Stone Salamander in the doorway.

Sal.

She was reared up on her back legs, hissing and snapping sharp teeth into the room. Mander leapt from the ceiling, landing with a loud, menacing bark. Sal angled toward Mander, keeping one eye on each of her opponents as she backed away from the door. Mander wasn’t going to let her take their new, clean warm spot, and he most definitely wouldn’t be intimidated by her.

Tonee snapped and hissed as he advanced and Sal jumped, then turned tail and scurried off into the dark corridor. Mander snorted in her general direction—good riddance—then padded past Tonee into the room. It was cozy in their little spot and Mander let himself drift into sleep once more.

Mander had never considered working with another Stone Salamander to get more of what he wanted, but now that Tonee was here, he knew they could accomplish great things. It hadn’t come to chompers with Sal, and that was a first.

He’d only just drifted into sleep when a loud clamor roused him once more. Mander was not enjoying all these interruptions, but knew it would be his backside if he didn’t investigate. At least a little. Tonee was up just as fast. They rounded the corner of the ceiling into the scary room to see the two little Strangelings fiddling with an odd assortment of equipment.

The one with strange letters over his head and the amber necklace wore the garb of the heroes, and wielded weapons like them too. What was this weird outsider doing? Well, being more successful than his predecessors, that was certain. He was with the other who didn’t smell foreign but looked and sounded just as strange. The words over both their heads were not right.

They were dismantling the scary weapons and chatting about traps. It was interesting at first, but then Mander grew weary of watching them work. He decided he wasn’t going to get any rest while they were banging about, so he went on patrol.

Bats swooped at Mander and Tonee as they padded through the great room. Their divebombs were in vain; Mander had no treatos to give them this time. The creatures in the great hall were sparse, and spread out from the last incursion. Mander knew the feast hall was a vulnerable place to be. They’d have to remain vigilant.

When the Strangeling’s scraping, banging, and grunting was complete, Mander and Tonee returned to the safety of their hideaway. All was quiet, and Mander sighed as he curled in on himself. Finally, it was time to get a little snoozer in.

Bang!

Or it wasn’t.

He didn’t want to earn any lashings, and so every sound needed to be investigated whether he wanted to or not. Mander grumbled as he crawled up onto the wall, perfectly camouflaged.

Thunk… bang!

What was the horrible racket? Mander sped toward the sound with Tonee at his tail.

“And boom goes the dynamite!” The voice of a man grated against Mander’s little ear slits. He rounded the corner of the great hall to see a short hero in bronzed gear lighting the end of a wick on a metallic ball. He lobbed the ball into the corner with another wall-trembling bang!

The hero cackled madly, the echo of which sent a furious heat through Mander’s core. These heroes thought they could come in and start blowing up his citadel?

Movement in the corner caught his eye and Mander noticed Sal—that snack-stealing jerk. She was pinned under an overturned table that had been blasted half to bits. The man in jingling bronze armor advanced on her, pulling another explosion ball from the leather satchel at his side.

“You’re all out of places to hide,” the hero sneered as he struck the flint on a firebox. The wick of the explody-ball sparked, and the man lined up his shot. He was going to blast Sal to smithereens. Mander didn’t like Sal, but her impending death didn’t sit right in his burning tummy. Plus, he wanted another snack.

Mander waddled across the ceiling and launched himself toward Sal with a hiss. The hero pitched his bomb with a wild grin. Mander twisted mid-air, dropping his camouflage and activating [Tail Flail] as he soared into range.

The metal ball smacked against Mander’s fat tail and was promptly returned to sender. Mander skidded to a stop in front of Sal just in time to see the hero’s expression of shock before the boom of fire and shrapnel ate it off his face.

The little man dropped to his knees with a high-pitched scream of agony, covering his once wide-open eyes. Blood seeped from between his fingers and the red bar above his head emptied by half.

Tonee plunged from the ceiling like a chunky asteroid, slamming the little man to the ground. He smacked the man’s stubby legs with his tail—one of Mander’s signature moves—and got that satisfying snap. Mander lunged forward and used his vicious bite on the bronzed man’s head. In a matter of seconds, the heroe’s health bar emptied all the way, and he went still.

There wasn’t much of a meal here, but Mander was satisfied to see that the little one’s death had made him even stronger. Mander was level three now and distributed his newly acquired points just as quickly as the previous.

He gave Tonee a gratified chirp, letting him know it was okay to dig into the snack, then turned back to see Sal, still struggling under the weight of the table. Her health bar was low and when Mander approached, he saw why. Her tail had been blown off and sat several feet away, wiggling of its own accord.

Sal hissed weakly as Mander approached, but he ignored her. He launched his tongue and wrapped it around the leg of the table, then pulled. Sal pushed with her front legs and they heaved the thing off together.

When Sal was free of her entrapment, she limped away to the corner to lick her wounds with another warning hiss. Mander left her to it. He knew by the red leaking from her mangled tail stub that she didn’t have much longer to bother him.

Tonee had the little man’s armor pealed back, but he waited for Mander to take the first bite. The back meat wasn’t nearly fatty enough, so Mander rolled the hero over and took a nice chunk out of the man’s potbelly.

Mmm, tender.

Sal stumbled woozily as she tried to climb the stone walls. Her health bar was nearly empty. Mander knew she would be back, but he still didn’t like the feeling he got as he watched her die. It was that same tightness around his head and between his eyes, but this time it came with a clenched gut. He knew he couldn’t fit one more tasty bite in if he didn’t do something.

Mander ripped another chunk of meat free and tossed it toward Sal with a shake of his head. The bit of lung slid to a stop next to the wary salamander. Even on the brink of death, Sal glared daggers at Mander before she tore into the offering.

She devoured the bit and Mander tossed her another. Slowly, her tail stub mended, and the bleeding stopped. When she’d regained half the missing health, she boldly stepped up to mostly eaten meal. Mander reared back, his lips curled in a snarl that hadn’t yet been spoken. What was she thinking, moving so fast like that? Mander hoped his offerings had made Sal friendly, but those quick movements were a challenge in Mander’s eyes.

Sal stopped a few feet short, groaned from the depths of her stomach, then rolled onto her back. Mander returned to all fours, his huge eyes squinted in disbelief. Was Sal submitting? Mander walked closer to her and she tensed up but didn’t move from her exposed position.

Mander sniff-snorfed around her, trying to detect trickery in her scent. There was none. He opened his mouth and slapped his sticky tongue against the side of her face, releasing her from the prostrate position.

Sal rolled back to her feet in an instant, then waddled closer to the kill. The three Stone Salamanders ripped at the little body until it was bones, then left. Mander lead the way, camouflaged on the ceiling, until they reached their nest.

Mander curled up first in the best spot, then Tonee at his left, and Sal at his right. They snuggled together comfortably. The shared body heat warmed Mander into a comfortable snoozer. It was nice having friends, he decided. It was even better that he wouldn’t have to fight with Sal. She could be deadly when she wanted, and he’d prefer never to be on the receiving end of her [Vicious Bite] ever again.

Mander startled awake at a loud, horrible sound. Tonee convulsed at his side, screaming in agony.

“Yeah, get some!” a nasty hero said as she raised her thin sword to strike again.

Mander leapt from his quiet slumber and lunged at the Elf’s leg. He bit down with a jaw-splitting crunch. Her armor resisted his bite completely! Pain lanced through Mander’s back as the sword dragged across his flesh. He fell back, a tenth of his own life vial emptied from the hit. Mander’s daring advance had given the desired effect, and Tonee—though critical—was still alive.

A thick Olm in similarly strong armor rounded the corner wielding two bloodied axes in each hand. His eyes were wild with murderous intent.

“Nice work Brit, but let me handle that one,” he said, looking at Mander.

Sal scrambled up the wall as she activated her camouflage. So, she would run and leave Mander to defend the helpless Tonee alone. See if she got anymore treatos when next he saw her…

The Elf hacked her sword down toward Tonee. Mander lunged for her arm with calculated intent. He bit down again, this time getting his teeth between the creases of her metal plates. The leather provided resistance, but Mander used [Vicious Bite], amplifying his strength and punching through.

The Elf yelped and tried to pull away. Mander held tight, dragging his sticky toes across the ground as she tried to free herself from his grasp. She couldn’t get her sword in the right position to attack, but Mander felt the agonizing thunkof a weapon against his side. He released the Elf’s arm and fell back. The Olm laughed as he ripped the axe from between Mander’s ribs. The hero raised his weapons again when Mander spotted something slithering on the ceiling.

Sal!

She leapt, twisting mid-air as Mander had learned to, and landed with a heavy thud on the axe wielder. The Elf’s sword flashed a cool blue and she swiped through the air with deadly precision.

The attack cut straight through Sal’s front leg, and a second swipe severed her back leg. Sal flopped to the ground with a wail but wasn’t giving up yet. She gnawed at the Olm’s legs, trying to find an opening in his armor.

The Elf advanced on Mander. His guts hurt, but he wouldn’t let that stop him from ending this ghastly invader. A nearly dead Tonee sailed over Mander’s head and slammed into the Elf’s legs. He used [Tail Flail] but the Elf dodged straight up. She landed on Tonee’s back, spearing him through before dismembering him like she had Sal.

The Elf’s head dipped closer to the ground and Mander lunged. She dodged again, dragging her blade across Mander’s face. She danced out of range and Mander spared a glance for Sal. The axe wielding Olm chopped down into her without mercy until her health bar was empty. Sal was in horrid, gut-wrenching pieces. Her blood stumps still flailed in death, and Mander whimpered at the sight of her.

This was what Mander got for having happiness. No happiness in the Cruel Citadel! It’ll all be hacked apart. How could he have been so stupid. The lashings from Big Boss weren’t to be mean… it was a reminder. Don’t sleep on the job. Now, Mander learned the true consequences of his negligent attitude.

The Elf and Olm circled Mander, pushing him deeper into the corner. His health was low, and he’d used too many abilities already. He couldn’t escape.

He didn’t want to escape. He wanted to make them pay.

Mander snapped left, then right, keeping the two invaders on their guard. He snarled and hissed, making himself as mean as he could. Mander was a strong, level three Stone Salamander, and he wasn’t to be trifled with!

Fire, as brilliant as the dawn, lit up the small room in a flash. Mander squinted in pain, shaking his head from side to side.

“Now!” the Strangeling yelled.

A Thursr’s warcry shook the room. Mander opened his eyes to see the two heroes held to the ground by spectral blue hands. The Strangeling and his friend—now a Thursr—slashed and stabbed the heroes in the back as they screamed.

Mander jumped into the fray, latching his teeth on the Elf’s neck. She struggled under his weight, then collapsed to the ground. It was all silent in a matter of seconds. The glowing hands retracted and Mander jumped back to his corner.

The Strangeling could just as easily take advantage and steal his warm spot, or get him in trouble with the Big Boss. Mander prowled from side to side, keeping his eyes on the strange one. Then, the Strangeling did something unexpected.

He knelt, holding his hand out to Mander. Mander sniff-snorfed at the strange one’s hand, smelling not only the weird otherworldliness, but something delicious of thisrealm. What was that smell?

Mander couldn’t resist, his feet carrying him close to the Strangeling. Oh, yes, it was definitely treatos on his fingers. Mander’s tongue slapped out automatically and hit the Strangelings yum-covered fingers.

It was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

Meat grease, the best kind of grease ever. Mander loved the fatty chunks, and this was just the fat, plus some tasty treato flavor that made his tongue tingle with joy. It was the best, and he needed more!

The Strangeling smiled as he touched Mander’s neck. That wasn’t so bad. The strange one scratched in big circles the spot that Mander could never reach. Oh, what a wonderful scratch.

“What do you think, you bloodthirsty little macaroni?” The strange one asked.

Macaroni? Was that the delicious taste on his fingers? Mander loved Macaroni.

“Want to come with me? I promise I’ll bring you significantly more battles than you’ll find hiding in here.”

Battles meant treatos! Mander chirped, leaning hard into the wonderful scratching on his chin.

“It’s settled then,” the Strangeling said.

A glow emanated from the pendant hanging around the Strangeling’s neck and a golden handprint appeared along Mander’s hide. He felt a flutter of power fill his tummy, energy sprinting along his limbs and filling his mind. Roark. That was the Strangeling’s name, he suddenly knew. That’s what the words over his head meant. And Kaz was the big one. The Thursr. How did Mander know this? Suddenly, Mander knew a lot of things he’d never known before.

“Easy,” Roark said. “Macaroni, king of the wolves, ruler of the mountains.”

A floating bit of text appeared before Mander’s eyes, and he knew only he could see the words.

[Roark has made you his lesser vassal! He would like to name you Maka-Ronin. Is this acceptable?]

Maka-Ronin? That wasn’t a word. Mander wanted to be Macaroni, the delicious treato.

“What?” Roark asked. “No! Makaronin. Mak. A. Ro. Nin. The two don’t even sound similar!” Roark was angry, but Macaroni didn’t know why. He was saying what Macaroni was thinking.

“Roark cannot change a name once it has been accepted by the creature,” the tall Thursr, Kaz, said.

Macaroni chirped happily and licked Roark’s delicious greasy armor. Delicious.

“Macaroni,” Roark said with a grim flatness as he scratched Mac’s shoulders. “I had better level up from this.”

Mac’s new master turned away from the nest. Macaroni looked back on his friends. They would come back soon, and he would check on them. For now, Roark needed Macaroni to stay out of trouble with the Big Boss, and Mac needed more of Roark’s treatos. Bring on the next battle.