D'Jinn Keeper

[gamecreator]

You have to roll a 20 to successfully complete a task (Example), instead you roll a 0. You failed critically (because it would take 2x that roll, or more, to succeed). If the Difficulty Check (DC) was 30, instead, you'd critically fail at 10 or lower. You'd critically succeed at 60 or higher.

Can you write an expresion of how you got 10 out of 30? From your general explanation it sounds like critical fail is half DC, but 10 doesn't fit here.

[thunteater]

You have to roll a 20 to successfully complete a task (Example), instead you roll a 0. You failed critically (because it would take 2x that roll, or more, to succeed). If the Difficulty Check (DC) was 30, instead, you'd critically fail at 10 or lower. You'd critically succeed at 60 or higher.

Can you write an expresion of how you got 10 out of 30? From your general explanation it sounds like critical fail is half DC, but 10 doesn't fit here.

I didn't get 10 out of 30.

[ChuckDaRighteous]

now I'm confused. "If the Difficulty Check (DC) was 30, instead, you'd critically fail at 10 or lower." would indicate 1/3 DC is crit fail. Did you mean that 10 to be 15?

[gamecreator]

I didn't get 10 out of 30.

Then I don't understand out of what you got it.

[thunteater]

Chuck, I'm just gonna say, Rukruk is a jerk.

[ChuckDaRighteous]

Chuck, I'm just gonna say, Rukruk is a jerk.

Why do I get the feeling this is going to end VERY badly.

[thunteater]

Chuck, I'm just gonna say, Rukruk is a jerk.

Why do I get the feeling this is going to end VERY badly.

The working post is updated with -why- Rukruk is a huge jerk.

[ChuckDaRighteous]

Woah! When you said jerk, I Imagined him triggering an alarm and then running off, leaving me to die a horrible death. The shirt off my back, considering what he brought to the table I can live with that.

And finding the prisoner actually plays into something I had planned to do next week...

Question though... him finding those gloves, do they go into the communal pile or do they go to him? In other words would it piss him off if I took them, or did they never go directly to him?

[Patdragon]

Hmmm a Stealthy Beholder.....maybe something to think about. Tho I also like the idea of him just singing on the mountain top drawing in adventurers.

P.S Laughed quite a bit when damn it Ruk Ruk came out....so Go Ruk-Ruk!!! This will be the first NPC people want to possess if the die..tho i bet he somehow becomes the next D'jinn without being possessed.

[GathersIngredients]

Okay, I'm sorry to be that person, but is the update post done?
I'm not asking because I'm impatient and would like you to do it faster, but because it is HUGE and I would rather only read through it once, with full attention than having to come back repeatedly and search through it for what's new, skimming the text only and probably missing some stuff.

Also, can I name my Minotaur Flinda? (Or maybe I should look at the names of the other Minotaurs first, and see if it even remotely fits in with those. I'll probably get back to you about this. Is there a list of our creatures with their names and skills and race that we can look up somewhere, please?)

EDIT: Found the Minotaur names:
(6 Minotaur -we got 8 minotaur total, and of them are PCs - Donnigan's and mine)
Kragmarr
Thane
Ophirea (possibly female?)
Zeun
Hestalt
Artemir

I think I'll stick with Flinda. It doesn't sound greek-y or anything but it doesn't stick out THAT badly. I kind of like the sound. And yes, that means my minotaur is a girl.
EDIT end.


Oh and we CAN learn stuff like stealth, even if it's not in our template? That gives me so many nice and interesting ideas...

[Patdragon]

Its not quite done yet, still a few player actions to be sorted out

if i remember reading somewhere cant find it at the moment we can learn none "class" skills but at half the speed and we will only ever be 75% as good at it as someone who learns it normally.

[ChuckDaRighteous]

actually it says 1/4 speed, but that didn't seem to hold with the calculations so I'm not complaining.

Also I noticed stats didn't seem to factor in the calculations. I'm not too sure how they factor in right now. I thought the beholder with its high perception would have done better scouting than the orcs for example. Perhaps they factor in more subtle ways though.

Blind Discovered a friendly Baby Dragon.

Wait how did I not notice that till now... my goal next time I die is to possess it.

I've noticed all the magic items are listed as "humming" items and stats are not listed. Does this mean we don't know what the enchantments are yet? If so could we at least get the stats for the base items without the enchantment modifications?

I had to go back and look at the legacy perk because I'd forgotten all about it. So essentially that book offers 138 exp. That's going to be popular with the smiths.

[kida]

Blind Discovered a friendly Baby Dragon.

Wait how did I not notice that till now... my goal next time I die is to possess it.

You should suicide untill you possess it

[BadgeAddict]

Finding a friendly satyr or baby dragon doesn't necessarily mean it joins our ranks does it?

And based on his comments about the majority of us surviving our first encounter with an adventurer...I really think we need to work on beefing up security.

Also, As for naming our characters

My gnolls name is Badge (for a reason though): He tends to keep badges from things he kills, typically ears, once he has at least one, he will make a leather thong necklace and wear his badges proudly...thus, Badge.

[kida]

I think we need to build library/arena/training room to start building combat skills.

[thunteater]

Items your hirelings find go directly to your inventory, instead of the Dungeon's Inventory. You already "paid" for their service, after all. Now if you give them to them, that will boost their Morale with YOU, making it easier to keep them working for you.

As far as the Dragon and Satyr, yeah, you guys just found them. You'll need to convince them to join your ranks first. They're wild creatures, but aren't inherently violent to you. They may trade with you, they may be hired to do tasks for you, but they need to be convinced that joining you is the best idea. As far as baby creatures, the first creature that tries to recruit it, will always get a +2 to diplomacy rolls with it, due to imprinting. Of course, it's a baby dragon, not a full grown one, and Dragons take a LONG time to grow up..

there's ways to speed it up.. but think about whether you want an adult dragon with a baby dragon mentality.

Stats factor in for certain rolls that haven't been necessary yet (Think saving rolls, combat rolls, etc), and they give you a chance to retain half of your Pre-level up exp, when you level up an associated skill. I.e. you successfully roll a str check to retain exp. You had 200 blunt exp when it leveled up to the next level, you retain 100 of that towards the next level.

As far as magic items, base stats will be visible in the final posting, but the enchantments... you'll have to use the enchanting skill to discover them, and the charges. Sometimes items will be cursed, as well.

[ChuckDaRighteous]

Blind Discovered a friendly Baby Dragon.

Wait how did I not notice that till now... my goal next time I die is to possess it.

You should suicide untill you possess it

I considered it. But I figured you guys would be pissed if I killed off half the population with 20+ failures.

[thunteater]

donnigan just discovered some very useful technology... and yeah.. someone else is about to discover a rather nasty surprise for your future gathering efforts..

[Patdragon]

I will say ut-oh...but it wasn't unexpected we've had some good rolls so far and was expecting something to start balancing it out.

On an extra matter whilst I remember as i'm guessing it may pop up soon how quickly does our health and mana replenish.

[thunteater]

I will say ut-oh...but it wasn't unexpected we've had some good rolls so far and was expecting something to start balancing it out.

On an extra matter whilst I remember as i'm guessing it may pop up soon how quickly does our health and mana replenish.

Determined by the buildings you have, honestly. The default without buildings is 1 HP per week, where as Mana is only restored when you "Consume" Gold or Gems using a special ritual at the D'jinn Crystal.

[BadgeAddict]

So...question...I was hoping to dig a much deeper pit before placing the spikes in the bottom...and i had mentioned i would be willing to use 2 actions to get to the depth i was looking for. How exactly can i move forward at this point since you already had me installing the spikes?

^Because i was hoping that , the further a person fell until hitting the spikes, the more damage the spikes will do.

On the other hand, if you're working on the final post and our questions are interrupting you from doing this...please ignore us.

I'm also confused about AP usage.... You said that we start with 7, and i wanted to use 3 to do my actions but at the end i have only 2 left.

Personally, i would rather not spend more actions than i wanted to use, but i also don't understand the process of using them. I suppose it's my own fault for not assigning priorities.

I dug a hole (1 AP) (priority) until 20+ feet deep (2 AP if needed to reach depth)
I tried to invent a collapsing bridge (1 AP?) I understand, you spend an action and failed.
I tried to plant some stakes in the ground (1 AP?) given the math of only having 2 actions left, does this mean that instead of 1 here i spent 3 AP? (1 to invent, 1 to make, 1 to build)

In which case, i would rather spend only the 3 (+1 for depth) and just invent the stakes as opposed to the +2 to make and build them. (this is primarily because I wanted it to be a certain depth, whereas if i invent, make, build at the depth of only 14 feet, then i will need to spend an action to unbuild the stakes and then dig deeper)

I'm not trying to sound overly whiny or demanding and I hope im not coming across that way. I was simply trying to save 4 actions for later use.

[thunteater]

This Week In D'jinn Keeper: Week 1 (D'jinn Born are Born.)



The D'jinn Crystal Chamber is filled with a cacophony of voices as those gathered debate, argue, and try to convince each other over the proper course of action. Of the choices presented, the population can only support doing four of them, and that is only because they are going to be removing all of the creatures from guard duty. "Food is an issue.." Chucks words cut through the small argument like a sharp knife, lingering in the air. The words are heavy, oppressive. Everyone knows it's true. Already, many of them can feel the hunger gnawing in their stomach, and their meager stocks aren't even close to enough to fulfill their needs in the future.

"Perhaps," Chuck continues, the words slightly guttural as they emerge from the mouth of his new host, an Orc. "We should focus on building some snares. It would be a good way to passively capture some of the rabbits I saw, when I explored the area surrounding the Mines." His new body really wasn't too far from his original, perhaps a bit more muscle, and standing at a daunting seven feet tall, but generally, his mind was unaffected by it.

This was in stark contrast to Noland, inhabiting a Gnoll named Bar'Bark. He twitched around, jumping from foot to foot, and standing at only five feet tall. Like a mixture of a Hyena and a Human, he could already feel his mind linking to the other Gnolls, almost like a "Flare" every few seconds. Indeed, this affected his critical thinking skills to a small degree, his intellect coming in bursts, followed by periods of what could be more easily described as "Mental Darkness". "Hyes, Hyes, Hyes!" Noland's voice range out.. "The Snares are Good! Hyes!" His words flew out at a rapid, exaggerated pace.. almost matching the tempo of his heart as it thudded in his chest.

"Indeed.." Chuck responded, "But it may be wise to concentrate on building the snares. Perhaps if we used half of the current population to do it..?" "NO!" Synch screamed out, inhabiting the body of a Gremlin. Though most of his 'No' was meant for the fact that he was now inhabiting a Gremlin, and as such, he could feel his mental prowess struggling to maintain itself, as a constant murmuring of voices impacted his psyche, threatening to steal away his individuality, the others gathered agreed, perhaps constructing snares might not be the best idea, and besides that, they don't have the necessary materials right now to make them.

"How about..." The words slurped forth from the drooling maw of Pat, now bound to a Beholder, his solitary eye darting this way, and that way, as his round, bloated body hovered above the floor, a steady stream of spittle seeping down from his tooth-laden mouth. "We build a library? Then maybe we can study some spells.. Perhaps that would give us a way to scout out new resources, or gather them more efficiently.." The others shook their heads. Now was not the time to worry about books, and they had no books to place in the library, anyway.

"We could get the Gremlins started on surveying the mines for anything they missed.." Slobbered Alaen, from within his Beholder Host. "I agree.." Gathers bellowed, the words harsh and deep, flowing from the throat of Flinda, the female Minotaur. " Noland nodded rapidly, hopping around and almost bouncing off the walls in eagerness, while Game stated "It may be a wise choice of action.." Folding his orcish arms across a broad chest.

The others were not so convinced, and another argument broke out. That is, until another scream came from Synch, who held his head and ran in circles for a few moments, before blinking and looking around at the others gathered, shocked expressions covering their faces. "Uh... so.. What about maybe send orcs get food?" Synch offered with a sheepish grin.. which more or less consisted of at least five hundred small, needle-like teeth spreading across a mouth that took up almost half of the expanse of his head, the other half almost entirely dominated by deep, black, empty eyes.

Donnigan shifted uneasily in their Minotaur body, bringing broad arms across their chest, as they stared at Synch. They almost shuddered as they thought about the pain of such a horrific creature latching onto you with those teeth. "That.. Is probably a good idea.." they muttered, casting their gaze down to the ground and pondering this twisted situation, feeling trapped in this nine-foot tall bull creature. Alaen, Synch, and Chuck offered their agreeance, while Pat and Game suggested it might be wise to focus on gathering simple foodstocks, such as Larvae and Mushrooms.

"We need some defenses, so lets fix that gate, too.." These words came from Noland, with a nod from Game. The others shook their head in disagreement, right now, there didn't seem to be any threats to keep out. No one even seemed to know that this Mine was here, let alone inhabited. "It might be wiser to send some creatures out to try to repair the Lumber Camp. The benefit it could offer in gathering wood to repair and construct other things might give us the boost we need to really get some industry pumping.." These words, a bit timid, were offered by Gathers, shifting uncomfortably in her new skin. Donnigan, Chuck, Gathers, and Synch all agreed, with Badge chiming in.. "Perhaps we should use the entire population to do this, and try to get it all done in one day!" The others were not convinced however, and decided that the best course of action was to just do it with the suggested amount.

"Of course, if we're going to fix anything, we're going to need to gather up some resources, as well. Raw materials and the like that we can turn into tools and building components." Everyone turned to look at Kida, as he spoke up, struggling to not drool on himself as he bobbed in the air. To say that it was disconcerting to lose your arms and legs, and propel yourself with your mind, was an understatement. Even a momentarily lapse of thought could cause him to nearly plummet to the ground. "Yes, we could send out a mixture of Orcs, Gnolls, and Gremlins to get the job done." Donnigan, Noland, Gathers, and Pat acknowledge the wisdom of this plan, Alaen and Synch suggested, perhaps, using more of the population would get the job done faster, and better. The others declined, stating that it was a far better option to perform multiple tasks, so as to not throw all of their plans in one basket.

"In that case, what about expanding the tunnels? We could use some more space to build new structures.." "That's a good idea", was Donnigan's response to Game.. "And Perhaps we could find some more resources in the process.." came from Gathers. "Sounds like a good plan to me"... "Yeah.. I could get behind that.." Both Pat and Kida grinned at each other.

"Do we have a consensus, then?" Boomed the D'jinn Crystal, echoing in their skulls. Those gathered nodded, each touching the stone in turn, to transmit their thoughts to the D'jinn within. The decision was made. The orcs would be dispatched to lead a food gathering mission, while the Gremlins worked on repairing the Lumber Camp. Afterwords, the Orcs would lead the Gnolls and Gremlins to gather some raw materials, and the Gremlins would lead the remaining creatures to expand the tunnel system.


Noland stood outside of the mines, head tilted back as the sun washed down over his fur, his muzzle slightly opened. For once, Bar'bark was still, not straining at his mind, as he typically did, not making him fidget and fuss. His eyes slowly opened, and he settled down into a lotus position, placing a long pole, a piece of roughly carved wood, and a dowel upon his lap. His clawed hands worked at the bits of wood, forcing them this way, and that, until, finally, he had them fashioned together in a rather crude spear. A wicked, toothy grin split the Gnolls lips, as he jumped to his feet, Spear in hand, and spun it slowly, getting a feel for it.

A few of the creatures passed him, on their way into the Mines, carrying assorted objects. Some stopped and stares, others simply hurried ahead. Noland gave the spear two more cursory spins, then set both hands upon the shaft, leveling it. His eyes shut as he swung and thrust the spear, dancing with imaginary enemies. In his minds eye, he cleaved them asunder, he pierced their organs, and left them bleeding out on the ground. Another slash of the spear drew the point across a grand hero's throat, dropping him to the grass in a splattering of crimson, hand clutching helplessly at the gaping wound. By legions and hundreds, heroes fell before his grand spear, their blood forming a river to his greatness. Coating fur and muzzle, even as fine jewels and armors adorned them.

The hours passed without him realizing it, and when his eyes opened once more, he found that most of the creatures of the Mines were giving him a rather wide berth. Perhaps he had looked quite the fool, he mused, but he felt fantastic now. It felt like part of his mind had quieted and calmed, he had found an inner peace of sorts, had adjusted to predicting the ebs and flows of the Gnoll Hivemind. Bar'bark had calmed down, as well. Mostly, he could feel a more solid familiarity with the spear in his hands, and the ache in his muscles told him that the effort would not go unrewarded.

Kida floated along the passages of the mines, his massive, solitary eye rolling back and forth as he left a steady stream of drool behind him. He was searching the walls, the floors, the ceilings, trying to discover any new resources, or abandoned tools. The single massive eye, he figured, made him the perfect scout, giving him unparalleled perception. While the ocular orb was, indeed, quite large, offering him excellent vision, if not giving horrible depth perception, he had no experience at all at searching for veins of ore or gemstones. As such, during his searches, he was only able to detect a solitary vein of quartz. He had almost passed it by, the only thing to be noticed being a small, clear portion jutting out of the rocks. Excited, he memorized the location, and rushed back to inform the D'jinn Crystal of his find.

Rage and anger lashed at the mind of the creature that was once an elite professional gamer named Patdragon. He had devoted his life in the real world to gaming, and was capable of even making a winning off it, competing in tournament after tournament of Hugcraft, a game where you controlled small teddy bears, kittens, ponies, and unicorns on a strategic map, in order to "Hug" the enemy into submission. Inventing a tactic known as the "Hugrush" skyrocketed him to his position as the number one Hugcraft gamer. Now, however, he was trapped inside of a round, slobbering ball of hunger and lethargy. He was angry. Angery enough to punch a wall.

He also had no hands, and couldn't even throw a proper fit, with no legs. Worst of all, he constantly kept forgetting to tell himself to float, and would fall to the cold, hard, stone floor, rolling almost to the exit of the mines, before catching himself and floating back up to the D'jinn crystal. It was after one of these events that Kida reached the D'jinn Crystal, just in time to see Patdragon lash out with his Eyebeam on one of the Gremlins, giving it a mild shock, and hover off out of the mines in a huff.

Kida snickered, settling down near the D'jinn Crystal, for a bit of a nap. This nap lasted for about five minutes, before a gremlin mistook him for a bean bag and hopped on him, flopping down and spreading out his arms. The Gremlin soon scampered off, getting back up after an angry eyebeam from Kida sent him flying into the wall, arms and legs sprawled.

Patdragon bounced and bobbed into the sunlight, his cyclopean eye shutting against the flare of the outside world, before slowly adjusting. This only served to make him even more angry, and he began to explore the world surrounding their little mine. He traveled for a good three hours, fuming and trying to sort his thoughts. He saw the guard tower from almost a mile away, pausing suddenly and slowly floating into the bushes, an action that would be comical, if he wasn't a giant floating combination of eyeball and gaping maw.

The longer he started at the guard tower, the better it seemed to draw into focus, and soon, he was able to count the exact number of occupants, and what they were wearing. He quickly realized that they were all wearing chainmail and performing patrols to the surrounding countryside on an almost constant basis, with two occupants armed with bows at the top of the tower at all times. Obviously, these were guards, meant to destroy monsters, and there were at least nine of them. Cautiously, Patdragon floated away, back to the mines.

One might think that a floating ball, dripping a thick trail of drool, would attract some attention, however, somehow, Patdragon managed not to. Almost as if a spell of invisibility was cast upon him, he made it back to the D'jinn Crystal without incident. His giant eye shut, as his mind raced. His emotions in turmoil, he tried to sort them, only to feel a strong, firm voice echoing at the back of his mind. "It seems you D'jinn-Born are having trouble adjusting to this world. You are not from it, are you? That would explain a fair bit. Yes, you all lack the ritual protections that allow us, through the D'jinn Crystal, to possess our creatures, and control them, without allowing them to fight back, or their minds to seep into our own. This must be quite the adjustment for your kind. The creature you inhabit is a creature of magic, bred for that solitary purpose. The hunger you feel is for mana itself, the only source for my creatures being my Crystal. Slip into your mind, and I will impart some of my information to you, so that you can better find your place in my Dungeon."

Images flared into Patdragon's mind, filling it with knowledge of enchanting and spell lore, flooding it past capacity. In the end, he could only remember, and retain, a portion of what was injected into him. What he could remember, however, made him hungry for more. Made him realize the power that could be wielded by his kind in these lands.

The creatures of the Mines roamed around the dungeon, listlessly and without purpose. A few orcs sat in one corner, playing with some cards they had found abandoned. Though they did not know what the icons on the cards meant, they adapted them to their own use, playing something very similar to old maid. Being orcs, most of the games ended with someone being punched. The majority of the Gremlins simply scampered around every few minutes, spending the bulk of their time staring blankly at the walls. The beholders simply floated around, taking naps randomly, and the Minotaur spent their time arm wrestling and racing each other.

A psionic pulse rippled through the Mines, and every single creatures face went slack. They instantly stopped what they were doing, then rose as one. "Right, lads, you heard the command." These words issued forth from a large orc with a scar split across his right eye. This was Grum-Dar. "Gather some bleedin' baskets, snatch up whatever knives we've got, and lets see what we can hustle up." Ten of the other orcs gathered up what supplies they could, and set off into the forest behind Grum-Dar.

Meanwhile, a shout of "GERONIMO!" echoed through the mines, as four gremlins and eight gnolls tore past the orcs, riding six of the minecarts left long abandoned in the dungeon. They each knocked into each other, as they came to a halt at the bumpers located at the entrance to the mine, and all of the creatures leapt out, a flurry of activity. They all gathered around the delapidated lumber camp, as one of the Gremlins, obviously named Geronimo, scratched his head, then split his mouth into a toothed, jagged, baracuda's smile. "Geronimo!" He began to frantically point towards Gremlins and Kobolds, then towards either planks of wood, or sections of the lumber camp, issuing each order with a "Geronimo!" of various inflections and tones. Seemingly, both gnoll and gremlin had no problem understanding this makeshift language, as they set to work placing planks and hammering them into place with rocks. With surprising efficiency and significantly reduced resources, they were capable of not only repairing the worst of the damage of the lumber camp, but were able to do so without creating a scene. Though some gremlins and gnolls were utterly useless at helping with the task, Geronimo quickly spotted them, and sent them back inside with a scowl and a "Geronimo!". With repairs complete, he leapt back into the mine cart, followed by the rest of the gremlins and gnolls, and with a shout of "GERONIMO!" they were racing back down the tracks.. past the Orcs who were just now reaching the entrance to the mines.

Grum-Dar watched Geronimo and his workers tear past them, a blank expression on his face, then let out an exasperated sigh, as both of his massive, four-fingered hands slapped against his face, palms obscuring his vision as he shook his head. One of the female orcs patted Grum-Dar upon the shoulder, light for an orc, almost a strike to any other race. His hands dropped, and Grum-Dar straightened up, rolling his shoulders back and lifting his chin, a posture that screamed of nobility. "Right.. this way.." He pointed a clawed finger towards the forest and began to head towards it, the other orcs marching behind him, some of them balancing grass-woven baskets on their heads. They reached the shadows of the small forest, and split up, spreading throughout it and searching the undergrowth of anything of value. Soon, they had gathered up a good collection of mushrooms and small vegetation, meeting up near the entrance to the forest.

Just as he was turning to head back, Grum-Dar stepped on a twig, startling a younger human male he had not seen foraging around for mushrooms. The young man jumped up, looking around, but not seeing the origin of the sound. Fright painted the young man's face, and he turned, immediately running in the opposite direction of the dungeon. His his haste, something fell out of his pack, and once Grum-Dar was certain that the human was gone, he approached and picked up the book that had fallen from the human's pack. "Rock 'N Roll Balderdash..." Grum-Dar mused out-loud.. "Odd name for a book.." He flipped through it quickly, but the words seemed to swim on the page.. "Bah..." He exclaimed, turning and jogging back towards the entrance to the forest. He'd simply count the book amongst the spoils, and let the D'jinn Crystal decide what to do with it.

The orcs marched back into the Mines triumphant, baskets bursting with what they could carry. What they had left behind, Gremlins quickly rushed off to gather and bring back. Meanwhile, the largest of the gnolls, known as Viur'Lent, gathered his people together. They spoke in hushed, raspy tones.

Viur'Lent was easy to spot, having black fur, while most of his kin had brown, or orange-ish, fur. Most noticeable, however, was that most of his fur was missing in patches, the result of an early childhood disease that had caused his skin to scar so horribly, that the fur could never grow back in those spots. He didn't know what virulent meant, but the shaman of his tribe did, and immediately decided that was what they shall name the pup.

"The orcs think themselves great gatherers, hyesss?" Viur'Lent spit. "They think them greater than us, hyess? Hnooo, I say, gnoll is greater gatherer! We challenge orcs, we gather better, we show them who big boss is, hyesss? D'jinn Crystal reward gnolls for be great!" The other gathered gnolls nodded, grinning widely, their tongues flopping out of their muzzles. The entire group marched as one towards Grum-Dar, as he tried to direct the orcs in placing their goods in the meager storehouse that was available.

"Orcs and gnolls fight, Hyesss!" Grum-Dar arched a brow at Viur'Lent, green eyes filled with annoyance, one hand slowly curling into a fist. "We gather, orcs gather, winner gather most!" A low, rumbling chuckle rolled forth from behind Grum-Dar, a deep, female voice ringing out.. "Grummy, dear, humor the dogs." The female orc standing behind him, known as Ushara, gave him a wink, as she leaned on his shoulder. Another exasperated sigh escaped Grum-Dars lips, his eyes rolling, before settling on the gnoll leader.. "Alright, Viur'Lent, you've got a competition. Gather your little hyenas, and we'll meet you at the entrance.

"DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!"

Both groups jumped back suddenly, eyes wide, as three gremlins tore past in a minecart, literally rolling right between the two groups. One of the gremlins simply stood up in the center of the cart, blinking rapidly, while the other two bounced around inside of the cart wildly. "HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!", one laughed, the laughter rapid, yet monotone, with a deeply insane undertone. This laughter slowly faded away as they tore towards the entrance of the mines.

Gnoll and orc alike sought their composure, glaring at each other, then turned and walked in opposite direction, moving to gather up tools. Ten minutes later, the two groups entered the moonlight of the outside world, and split up, each individual seeking out the best possible gathering locations.

Grum-Dar managed to unearth a small wooden box, discarded underneath a tree. Though the box crumbled upon him picking up, he was easily able to extract a book titled "Adventurer's First Choose Your Own Adventure Book", a title that hurt his head and left him no doubt that it would be useless. Still, it was an object of interest, and the gnolls probably wouldn't be able to read it, anyway. He could simply tell them that it was a great tome of knowledge. Snickering to himself, he gathered up his finds, and went to meet the others.

"I think we've got this one.. won" Ushara grinned at Grum-Dar, holding up a faintly-glowing short sword, that hummed with magical energy.." "Fooking right, mate.." Krael the orc heft a small bag of coins, clinking it noisily, then tossing it in the air over and over, catching it in the opposite hand each time.

Meanwhile, Blink had fallen down a ravine, bounced off a boulder, landed on a sapling, which then flung him into a nearby tree. He greeted this tree, by smacking his face into it, and slid down the trunk. Only to land in a long abandoned dragon's nest. A forest dragon's nest, naturally. Unfortunately for Blink, this nest still held a baby dragon in it, which promptly let out a tiny squeek of a roar, and charged him. Blink simply stood there, paralyzed, and could only blink as the miniature behemoth. Being a baby, of course, it was rather clumsy, as well, and fell down halfway towards Blink, who, again, could only blink in shock. Another blink issued from Blink, and he noticed something shiny at the baby dragon's feet. Scampering over, he rose the set of gauntlets in triumph, patted the baby dragon on the head, and scurried down the side of the tree, holding the gauntlets high over his head and running back towards the others, needle-toothed grin stretching his face.

DUCK had just dove into the lake, splashing around, before realizing he couldn't swim. He screamed loudly.. "DUUUUUUUUUUUCK! DUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!", which caused a nearby fisherman to duck down, then, glancing around and seeing nothing, to quickly begin to paddle towards shore. He redoubled his efforts when he heard mechanical laughter echoing out from the shadows. His boat coming to shore, he smashed his bottle of whiskey, and hefted the small canoe over his shoulder, hurrying down the road, and swearing to skip the hooch, and find a new fishing spot.

DUCK continued to splash around, before, finally, realizing if he simply stood up, he wouldn't drown. He promptly did this, and began to search around the shallows of the lake. His empty, black eyes came to rest on a strange jelly floating on the surface. DUCK loved jelly, and thus, DUCK ate it. Almost immediately, excruciating pain, even for a gremlin, tore through DUCK's hands. His fingers melted together, and soon, his hands had turned into flippers. A deep, toothy frown painted DUCK's lips, as he stared on sadly at his new flippers. Tears streaming down his face, flippers extended above his head, he ran off screaming "DUUUUUUCK.. DUUUUUUUUCK", towards the mines. "GOOSE!" shouted the female orc, Ylar, laughter escaping her lips.

The moonlight cast wavering shadows, as Olm'Mai and Lae'Nui crouched in the bushes. Speaking in hushed tones, they watched the two strange creatures, as they lounged in the center of a forest clearing. Their brown eyes, built for nocturnal use, easily discerned that one of the creatures was covered in a thick, fluffy coat of fur, while the other appeared human, save his hooved feet, hairy, backwards facing legs, and the two horns jutting from his head. Olm'Mai hefted his shears, and approached the creature, cautious, slow steps taking him into the clearing.

The Satyr lowered his pan-pipes, a sly smile crossing his lips, as he watched the gnoll step into the moonlight. "Greetings, creature of Gaia, have you come to join me for a song, perhaps you bring me some wine?" Hesitantly, Olm'Mai gestured towards the sheep. "Olm'Mai shear sheep?" A small frown crossed the satyr's lips, his eyes shifting to the sheep for a moment, then back to Olm'Mai. "I suppose you could.. I don't think he's doing anything with it, and it is pretty warm these days.." "Hyesssss!" Olm'Mai shouted, making the satyr jump slightly, before lifting his pipes to his lips once more and playing. Olm'Mai immediately charged towards the sheep, and began to shear its wool, gathering it up. The sheep let out a "baa", and continued to graze on the grass. Ten minutes later, Olm'Mai had more wool than he could carry, and he scampered off into the bushes to show an excited Lae'Nui. Surely they'd win the competition now!

The sheep shuffled over three feet, and grazed on some grass.


The group gathered up their finds, and loaded up the minecarts. Half an hour later, their gatherings were stacked around the D'jinn Crystal. Each creature's eyes went blank, rolling into their heads, as the D'jinn within the Crystal scanned their thoughts and memories. Finally, he declared the gremlins the winners, for finding a baby dragon, and the orcs and gnolls wandered off, grumbling to themselves.


The fourth day of the week found the creatures expanding the tunnel system of the Mines. Led by the gremlin Geronimo, a team of three gremlins, six minotaur, and a very grumpy Viur'Lent and Olm'Mai, began to chip away at rock with whatever they had, whether it be pickaxe, or rock. Within six hours, they had made good progress, digging out four new rooms, opening a passage that would let them dig deeper into the mines, and discovering a room that used to be a treasure room, or so Kragmarr, the leader of the minotaur tribe, assumed, based on the gold coins they found, and the beheaded skeleton they found within it. Of course, he might have also been tipped off by the large wooden sign, dangling from one side over the door, labeled "OVERLORD'S TREASURE ROOM! KEEP OUT, OR THE SKELETON GUARDS WILL KILL YOU!". A quick scan of the room did not reveal the head of the skeleton, and without its head, it seemed to be rather dead. Figuring that they'd quit while they were ahead, and before they end up digging into some eldritch terror lair, which would most definitely put them in over their head, the creatures disperse, and go to carry on their daily lives, heading off in different directions.

Gathers was a "GamerGRRRRL" in the real world. That is to say, she posed for "PL-A STAY-TION MAGAZINE", "ROCKET, PAPER, SHOGUN MAGAZINE", and "Lonely Nerd Weekly" holding a controller, and dressed in punk fashion. It paid the bills, but the groupies were some of the worst that you could ever imagine. Further, comments always ranged from "PLAYING SLIMS DOES NOT MEAN YOU'RE A GAMER" to "NICE AIMBOT, TRANNY!". This was one of the largest reasons she found herself masquerading as a boy, at the convention. Now, however, she found herself trapped in a twelve-foot tall bull person, or, perhaps in her case, cow person. Now, she had played a Tarunon in City-State Of Workcraft before, but she never thought she'd end up literally playing one. The situation was, to be honest, rather unnerving.

Thus, she simply found herself hunkered down in one corner of the workshop, fiddling with some bits of wood and stone. The entire week passed her by, and she simply ignored everyone, and was ignored in turn, as she idly tinkered away. Her mind was focused on a million things, and in the end, she managed to make a rather serviceable hammer, then used it to fashion fifteen nails, in the span of five days.

Donnigan, on the other hand, had a very active lifestyle in this new world. He had mostly kept to himself, too busy designing java and flash games for Grown-up Pool Time's websites, which, while it paid relatively well, it also effectively murdered his social life in the real world. Now, finding himself in the powerful body of a minotaur, he gathers up those he can, to engage in a valiant mission. His rousing speech is lost on the majority of the other minotaur, who are too busy expanding the tunnels to care, anyway. It does, however, net him the attentions of two female minotaurs, named Hestalt and Artemir. He impresses them so much, that they both offer their services as his apprentices in one trade skill. "I'll think about it and get back to you.." Donnigan rumbles, with a sly wink. The two nearly swoon, and it takes no convincing for him to get them to follow him into the forest. Once he starts gathering long grass, they follow suit as well, and soon, they have massive armloads of thick, three foot long grass, which they bring back to the Mines, and stash in the corner of the sleeping chambers.

It is at this point that Donnigan decided to make use of this grass. He had seen how effectively those baskets that been used by the orcs, and now he set to work, weaving his own basket. Observing his actions, the two minotaur women mimic his actions, and soon, they've created two smaller baskets, one of which is of significant quality, while Donnigan has not only learned how to create a large basket, which can act like a backpack, but he's done such an amazing job on his, that it is truly worthy of the title of a masterpiece, as much as you can call a back-mounted basket of woven grass a masterpiece.

While sitting and weaving the baskets, Donnigan and the two minotaurs exchanged idle conversation. Artemir mentions a strange plant she found, growing around an ancient statue. Though the statue is beaten up and broken in places, it seems to deplict a minotaur with head lifted, spewing fire into the air. Of course, the statue had been toppled over onto its side, and the arms had been torn off, so who or what it may deplict is unknown, but her hair had stood on end while investigating it, hinting at a magical origin.

Abruptly, their conversation was interupted, as one of the gnolls wandered past, rubbing their rump and cursing about pits. Arching a brow in confusion, Donnigan stood up and made his way towards the entrance to the mines. It was there that he met the pit.


"A pit would be a good idea, hyess. Adventurers fall in, we collect shinies, hyess..." These thoughts echoed through Badge's head, as he ran around the mines, searching for a shovel. Finally, he settled on a pickaxe, and rushed to the entrance of the mines. A wide grin on his lupine face, tongue dangling from the corner, he began to rapidly slam the pickaxe into the ground, sending dirt, grass, and stones flying in all directions. Soon, he had managed to dig a pit that stretched across the whole entrance of the mines, and extended six feet across, effectively making it so that you had to be capable of jumping six feet, in order to reach the other side. He dug and he dug, until, suddenly, a shuddering vibration tore through his arms, sending his whole body shaking, and chipping the pickaxe slightly, though it was still quite serviceable. Confused, he brushed away the dirt at his feet, only to expose an unknown, thick stone.

Annoyed, he cracked away at it with the pickaxe, and succeeded in dislodging a one inch section... which immediately lifted out of the hole, as water began to seep up. His eyes widened in shock, and he quickly plugged the stone back into the hole, then stomped it back down. Grumbling to himself, he climbed up out of the pit, unable to advance any further, due to the mysterious underground spring. Digging down any further would only give him a moat, and he wanted a pitfall.

The thought occurred to him that this might make it more difficult for other creatures to enter or exit the mines, so the grand plan was born in his head. He would make a drawbridge, that wasn't a drawbridge! Grabbing a stick, he began to scrawl in the dirt near his hole. A rope here, a pulley here, and if properly done, anyone who stepped onto it, thinking it was solid, would simply fall to their deaths, unless the creatures tied off a specific rope in a specific spot. It all seemed like the perfect plan.

Unfortunately, inventing it proved to be a bit harder. Once he gathered up all of the materials he thought he'd need to invent it, well, he simply couldn't figure it out. What seemed to work on.. dirt, didn't actually work when you went to assemble it. For now, at least, he'd give up, and move on to the next invention. Of course, this would mean that any creature trying to get in or out of the mines, except beholders, would have to hope their dexterity was good enough to propel them six feet over open air, to the other side, for now.

Gathering up some materials he found laying around the mines, and pulling nails from old support beams, he managed to fashion a rather effective spike trap, assembling it at the bottom of the pit and nodding to himself. Easily transportable, and easily upgradable, it would get the job done rather effectively. Best of all, it was relatively cheap to make, and all one had to do to move it to a new location, is simply pick it up, and move it there. Installation was as easy as weighting down the bottom, either with dirt or rocks, and waiting for some unwary fool to fall on it. Preening himself, he was quite pleased, and went to the D'jinn Crystal to inform him of his grand work. Donnigan watched a very dusty and dirty gnoll pop up from the pit, face first, and march proudly past him.


"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"
"Venit mors ad omnes."
"GERONIMO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"De sanguine regum vocat. "
"DUUUUUUUUCK!"
"Animas pascunt in crystallum."
"...."
"Relaxare eu usu est."
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA"
"Aliquam ut mea.."
"GERON-"

The voices pounded at Synch's mind constantly. At first it was merely the loudest of them. Geronimo. Duck. Ha-Ha. Even Blink's silence seemed to scream in his head. Beneath all of them, a whispering had begun. It started out quiet, solitary. The D'jinn within the Crystal. Then it began to expand. Rapidly. Six became sixty. Sixty became six hundred. Soon, it was a raging tempest of voices, of various volumes. Beneath them all, the same mantra kept repeating itself.

In the real world, Synch was..

The voices only paused for a few seconds every few minutes. They came and went, like a pulse. Like a heartbeat. It was a living hell, stress of a magnitude he had never felt before. In the real world, he had been..

Sometimes, it seemed like the clarity survived longer. Endured against the ripple of thoughts. Other times, they flooded in so heavily, that he felt as if he would be swept away. In his few moments of clarity, he could feel the gremlin he inhabited, clawing at his mind, attempting to burst free. It was named...

In the real world, she had been...

The voices would sweep in, forcing aside any of his own thoughts. Occassionally, it almost felt like Geronimo and the others were actually speaking out more solid words, instead of simply screaming their names. Or were the names simply given to them, because it was the word they screamed out most often? Perhaps there was some form of connection to this word.. In the real world, what was the connection with the word Synch? It was a comic book char-

"GERONIMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!"
"IT HUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS"
"HA-HA-HA"
"...."

Synch clenched his teeth together, lips spreading in a snarl, his three-fingered, clawed hands coming to the side of his head, as another scream tore from his throat. He ran around in circles, and a few of the dungeon's creatures pointed and laughed, walking off and shaking their heads, muttering about gremlin retardation. It was a joke to them. They didn't know. No one could know. None of them could voice the pain, the experience. It defied words. How can one explain their entire existence, their individuality, being torn away from them, scrap by scrap?

The clarity was fleeting. With only a few moments to even say anything of value, it was a struggle to spew forth anything besides the screams.. or the word Synch....His name? Her name? Everything that happened was fading away under the voices.

In the real world..
This is not my real world..
I came here from someplace else..
This is a video game..
It was a video game..
I was transported here...
By magic..
By something.
My name is..
I was...
I lived...
I...

Trying to brute-force through it did nothing to help. Perhaps, labor would succeed, where mental acuity did not. Synch left the mines and headed out to the now repaired lumber mill. He searched the area, but found nothing.. they had picked it clean after they finished repairing it, and the searching did nothing to still the voices. The distance, however, seemed to mute them, very slightly. She re-entered the mine, reluctantly. A moment of clarity struck It, and It rushed to the storage room as fast as Its legs would take it. It gathered up the materials It knew It would need, and sat down, experimenting, as much as constructing. Realization struck It. A simple experiment, utilizing stone.

Synch realized, crafting here was no different than crafting in the real world, persay. The ingredients used determined almost everything about the resulting item. Yes, you had to figure out how to insert tab b, into slot a, but you could make almost anything, out of almost anything, if you were skilled enough, lucky enough, or simply figured it out. Improvisation was completely possible. In short, the only limitation, was their own talents, and their imagination. If It could simply tell this information to the others, then...

"A-HA-HA-HA"
"Someone...He-"
"GER-OH GOD, WHY..."
"DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"


"Keep Rollin', Rollin', Rollin', Keep Rollin', Rollin'.." The song echoed in Alaen's head constantly, as he floated along the mines. The front man for a band in the real world... nah, actually, he was just the bassist. Still, he got to perform with the band, and it gave him plenty of time to play games on the tour bus, since he didn't really need to practice as much as the others. Music was his passion. Music, and video games. Now, as he found himself trapped in the body of a drooling beholder, his mental facilities stronger than ever, he did the first thing that he figured you always do in a game. He was hunting down gold and gemstones. "Money.. Get away... " He muttered the lyrics to himself as he scanned left and right with his gigantic central eye, searching for any sign of a few coins.

His search took him through the mines, and even out into the woods nearby. Occasionally, he'd find the odd coin dropped by someone, or, when he was really lucky, a fallen gemstone, long since forgotten. The whole time, he couldn't help but notice that the creatures and other D'jinn Born that had been out gathering, simply didn't have the ability to bring back everything they had found. Instead, they had abandoned over seventy-five percent of their finds, which the Gremlins were now hurriedly gathering up and bringing back into the mines, loading up minecarts at the entrance and sending them deep into the dungeon. Their methods were rather chaotic, and they simply were leaving things where ever they felt, with the storage room filled to capacity.

"To share with me his fate... Wooo, we outta space.."


Gamemaker watched everyone rushing about to gather food outside of the mines, then turned his gaze towards the handful of seeds they had stashed in the storage room. In the real world, he had been the lead designer of most of the titles produced at Enterplay, though the company had long since collapsed. As such, he was good at looking at the larger picture. Grunting to himself, he began to search around the storage room for a shovel, and finding one, stops to consider if one would even really be the proper tool to do this.

It was obviously that they had to get seeds into the ground. Start growing your crops now, and you could harvest in a few months, never have to worry about foraging out for food, and could potentially grow exactly what they wanted. Surely, gathering from a farm plot would be fair easier, and faster, than foraging out in the woods. Getting the seeds into the ground however, was a more difficult task. He'd never planted a thing in his life, and the cactus he once had sitting on his desk, died within a week. How was he supposed to know that you can't "Water it for the year"?

So what to use to plant some seeds? The idea comes to him the instant that he starts thinking about Slim Farmer 2010. You start off with a hoe, of course. Jumping to his feet, he tore through the storage room, until, finally, he had a gathering of random components. He set about tinkering with them, smashing a dowel into place, and before he knew it, he had a wooden hoe, fully functional and ready to ship, with no bugs to be seen. All that was left was one final beta test.

Making his way out of the Mines, he leapt over Badge's pitfall, barely making it, and moved halfway between the entrance and the lake. There, he began to till the earth, turning up fresh soil and making several five foot long, one foot wide mounds. Having only taken a handful of each seed, he carefully planted them, scooping dirt back over them and running to the lake. He gathered up handfuls of water and ran back towards the mounds, splashing and dripping the whole way, as he watered each seed. Whether he succeeded or not, he wouldn't know for a few more months, but he was fairly confident about those flax seeds. Fairly confident, indeed. Brimming with pride, he leapt back across the pitfall, and descended into the depths of the mines once more.

Chuck. Chuck from middle management. Chuck from accounting. Chuck Da Righteous. He was known by many names in the real world. They all depended on who you were. None of them really defined him all too well. He had led a fairly lackluster life, up until then. Seven AM, wake up. Make a pot of coffee. Take a shower. Shave. Drink coffee. Read the newspaper. Go to work.

Sit in front of a computer for three hours. Try to organize and keep employees working the rest of the day. Corporate e-mails. No promotion. Flirt with Debra in the mail room. Go home. Videogames. Sleep.

Every day was the same thing, on repeat. Now here he was, inside of an Orc, a creature that would make any muscle-builder, any strong man, jealous. It was time for an adventure. Excitement filled him, as he headed into the storage room, grabbing a rotted, doghide jerkin, and a soapstone knife. Armed and dangerous, he jogged around the mines, until he came across a solitary orc, sitting by himself in a corner, eyes shut, legs crossed in a lotus position.

"Hey, Orc, You come with Chuck? Big Adventure, Yes?"

The orc opened first one eye, then the other.

"Pardon me, good sir?" The response was a perfectly enunciated accent.. back home, Chuck would have expected it from a stuffy Brit. Confusion furrowed his brow for a moment, and the orc let out a quiet sigh. "You do not need to speak to me as if I am some country bumpkin. Despite the insufferable situation we find ourselves in, I assure you, I am no lowborn, uneducated barbarian. My name is Henrich Von Ruk-Ruk the Third, Esquire. My father was Nomnom Von Ruk-Ruk, Lord of the Hamlet."

"Uh.. The Hamlet?" Chuck scratched the back of his head, pondering to himself.. 'Orcish nobility, here? That should be an interesting story..'

"Yes.." Continued Ruk-Ruk, standing up slowly and brushing the dust from his ragged cloth pants. "He owned several pigs, who he would take truffle-hunting quite frequently. It purchased him a goodly piece of land, and a large stone cottage. It was up near Fredricksburg, unfortunately, the Culinary Institute of Atlantis went under.. no pun intended, of course, and that caused the truffle bubble to burst. He lost his pigs, and the cottage, I'm afraid.. which leads to me being here, in such dire straights."

"Well.. I was just gonna go and hunt around for some stuff.. I figured maybe you'd like to come along?"

Ruk-Ruk considered the offer for a moment, looking Chuck up and down appraisingly. Finally, after a long pause, he spoke..

"Well, old chap, that does sound like it could be some good sport.. I will make you a deal. That is a rather fine shirt you have. As you can see, I lack a shirt. Ergo, if you were to bequeath upon me your shirt, I shall offer myself up in your employ, for a period of five weeks, or when you offer me reprieve from the debt, which ever may come about more rapidly."

"Yeah, sure, you got a deal, Mr. Ruk-Ruk." Chuck stated flatly, extracting himself from the jerkin, and handing it over to Ruk-Ruk, who quickly donned it. Chuck was not happy that this NPC did not willingly go along, and he was feeling unbalanced by the mental prowess it obviously showcased. He definitely went into the situation the wrong way, but he would learn from it, and adjust.

Twenty minutes later, they were traveling along the road outside of the mine, with the moon shining down on them. Occasionally, a cloud would drift across it, obscuring the dusty, dirt path they traveled. Fortunately for them, this also made campfires rather visable, and it was not long before Chuck felt a broad arm cross his chest, bringing him to an immediate stop. A whispered "Duck" reached his ear, and he did just that, slipping into some bushes with Ruk-Ruk.

"Over there, you see? About fifty yards as the crow flies.." whispered Ruk-Ruk. Chuck followed the path of his finger, and nodded. He could see it. Ahead of them, to the right of the road, three adventurers were setting up camp. Even as they watched, one of them began to stomp out the fire, while the other two slipped into their tents. There was something else there, in the dark.

"They've all gone to bed now, my good man. Let us wait twenty minutes, and they will surely be asleep." Twenty five minutes later, Chuck and Ruk-Ruk crept into the camp. Sure enough, the adventurers were asleep. With quiet footsteps and careful movements, they began to loot the campsite. Ruk-Ruk approached Chuck once more, warning him away from the object they had seen from a distance. Inside was a human man, roughly twenty-five years old, dressed in ragged clothing, and manacled to the bars of the wooden cage he was trapped within. The man was currently asleep, leaning against the wall, as the manacles did not allow him to lay down.

In the end, they decided to avoid the man, for now, and simply loot what they could from the campsite. They did not want to try to face three adventurers, and they soon set back to the mines with their haul; An old cooking pot, an old shovel, a book titled "How to be a Cokehead: Smithing Like a Grandmaster", a pair of leather gauntlets that are humming with magic, and a halberd that was more of a staff with a carved, sharpened blade upon the end, obviously having belonged to the captured brigand, who was worth at least twenty five gold coins, judging by the "WANTED!" posters they found sitting next to the campfire.

On their way back, Ruk-Ruk stopped Chuck once more, earning his keep when he pointed out a small bit of dull, grey stone jutting out nearby the mines.. "That would be Lead, my good man. My father had a goblet made of lead, you know. Fine metal, he swore it made everything he drank sweeter. Perhaps, one day, I'll have a lead goblet of my own. Come forth, then, let us head back into the mines, and I shall give you our spoils, to divvy out as you see fit."

Chuck spent the rest of his time that week reverse-engineering one of the pickaxes, discovering how to do so. During the process, he accidentally broke the pole in half, and realized it would work just fine like that, discovering how to make tools more efficiently, by substituting a short pole for things that used to require a longer pole. "It's all a matter of weight distribution!" he exclaimed, as he explained it to the other D'jinn Born. Everyone nodded, and wandered off to do their own thing once more.

The sun set on the last day of the week.
Deep within the mines, a low rumble reverberated through the rocks. It sustained for a minute, then subsided.

Meanwhile, out in the world surrounding the Haunted Mines, three adventurers woke up, none the wiser about the robbery that had occurred.

For now, the Dungeon, and the D'jinn Crystal, were safe, off the radar of any would-be adventurers, and still considered very much abandoned by any nearby villages.

Only time would tell what the next week would hold.

[Patdragon]

Just checking on Alaen sightings. Were the Gremlins and such using the railway system to carry things inside the mine this week or do they still need more carrying capacity.

[ChuckDaRighteous]

It looks like the rolls are done. Just need the final write up, and the voting options. I can't wait. No seriously I can't. I already wrote up my actions and accompanying fluff that is a page and a half long.

[Donnigan]

Vwoot! Apprentices!

Question! Can they be more generic apprentices, Like crafting in general? I'm planning on doing a lot of that.

I suppose i could just be the tailor...