Lysandra cared for the rift on the arena’s floor, managing her resources through her pouch of components and keeping it stabilized whilst occasionally channeling energy through her staff and into it. As she did so, receptionist Kay approached her.


    “Madam, what should the children this year expect?” She asked her senior.


    “My party and I have thoroughly scouted the drop off points, but even you should know the dungeon is an unreliable entity, Kay.” Lysandra chided.


    “Each drop off point has at least two patches of the flower within a few hours reach, we collected any extra to balance out the experience.” She pondered for a moment while carefully dripping an oil into the rift, the liquid disappearing as it touched the shifting space. “Goblinoids, medium arachnids and lesser fauna were observed, things all adventurers entering the dungeon must be prepared to face at all times but, nothing too dangerous was left roaming within a 24 hr radius of each.”


    “Then we should expect the return of the more lucky parties in a few hours.” Fel observed the shifting rift from the stands, petting a chicken under its chin as it clucked happily beside him. “I wonder how that strange lad will do, bringing fowl of all things, is it a pet?”


    “T-There are more interesting recruits in the other testing grounds, the first arena has high nobility I hear.” Kay tried to change the topic.


    “Nobility.” Lysandra scoffed, “The dungeon is the one place that does not matter, the first arena always has the highest casualty rate because of that. How many were injured two years ago Kay?”


    “Uh.” Kay put her journal to her chin as she pressed her memory, “Out of two hundred recruits, seventy three came back injured. Two died from the first arena.”


    “I was on a prolonged mission that year, what happened?” Fel pressed.


    “Oh, the scouts reported the surrounding goblin populace was agitated, their guess is they let a goblin escape an encounter and were hunted down.” Kay replied grimly, glancing down at the rift anxiously.


    “Even children in the distant farmlands know,” Fel began “Never let a goblin-”


    Each ceased to speak as a heaviness filled the arena, as the rift shuddered, turned bloody red, and then closed.


    Fel rose to his feet, gripping his sword tightly he leapt into the arena, landing into a kneel beside Lysandra. He passed his hand over where the rift just lay, before raising his gaze to see Lysandra’s. The old mage had paled several shades and had gone still. “Is this…”


    “The dungeon, a dilation has occurred.” Lysandra gasped, covering her mouth as she shook. “I lost my connection!”


    Kay dropped her journal and pen “H-How long…”


    Fel nodded and stood up.


    “How long did the dungeon dilate.” He asked as the other observing silver ranks came down the stands.


    “A week.” Lyssandra clenched her staff as she passed the hand over her eyes, tears now streaming down the old woman’s cheeks.


    “A-A week?! Now? Of all times now?” Kay panicked, “They aren’t even one star into Onyx rank!”


    “Miss Dew, breath.” Fel retorted coldly. “The search for survivors must begin now, but I''m afraid we must expect the worst. We will begin forming parties, you go hail the guild master.” Fel ordered the others.


    “I-Uh-But” Kay couldnt find her words as the adventurers all began to stream out of the arena, she blankly followed out finding the entire hallway in mayhem as each testing grounds now emptied out into the guild proper. She stood there in shock.


    “Is there anything…we could’ve…”


    She felt a hand clasp her shoulder then as Lysandra joined her in the hallway.


    “Nothing, the dungeon dilated time, it is not something we can track.” Lysandra practically growled with anger, “The dungeon is not something we can so frivolously tame, we know so little, yet send our children with a day of rations in to compete for access to its depths…At my age, I should know better, but still enabled this.”


    “I’m sorry, I cannot abide by this.” Said a voice from behind them as they turned to meet gazes with a stout man, a halfling half their height and large mouse-like ears as is their nature. His hazel eyes hardened by his experience of the silver rank, pulling at his scarf he adjusted his leather armour whilst taking count of the many daggers that hung off his many belts.


    “Sir Seid?” Kay recognised the adventurer as he stepped to stand beside them.


    “Do not dare take responsibility for this, Lysandra. It is an insult to us who call ourselves adventurers. Those kids, they put their lives on the line to delve into those depths, and so do we. You watched them fight Fel just as I have, those who entered the dungeon, you saw their eyes up closer than I. Those aren’t eyes who would regret the delve.”


    The younger halfling walked past them and began making his way down the hallway “Do not forget why you began down this path, mage. They made the same choice so disrespect it at your own peril. Instead, I choose to respect their valour, that is why you are standing there weeping retired and I…am going to find them.”


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    <hr>


    Tod and Gin ran for their dear lives as bone javelins pelted out from behind them, far more goblins than they could handle chasing after them through the vast rocky tunnels they found themselves in.


    Turning momentarily to send an arrow flying back, “Is that what, four dozen!?” Gin yelped but Tod pulled him by his quiver and dragged him back into continuing to run.


    “No point wastin those! We can''t kill em all! Save your breath too!” Tod exclaimed as he kept pace with the half-orc, capable of going faster but not willing to abandon Gin to the horrid fate that chased them.


    “We cannot run forever though! Surely we have a better chance if we fight them now rather than when we’re tired!” Gin argued but continued to bob and weave between the large roots that sprawled like pillars in every direction across the tunnel.


    “Heh! Ya booksmart but ye never gotten chased before eh?” Tod chuckled.


    “This is not a laughing matter!” Gin chided.


    “If I can’t laugh while on an adventure,” Tod met his grimace with his own smirk, “When can I?” he said as he leapt over one tall root, evading a javelin whistling right by his head.


    As they both landed behind the root the sound of javelins impaling themselves into it filled their ears.


    “Anyway, ye said you wanna fight?” Tod turned around facing the root that lay like a short wall before him, “My mum always said, if ye wanna fight, do it on your terms.” he said, as he dug his claws into the root and began to part it with his raw strength at the leftmost end where it dug into the wall.


    “Cover me!” Tod yelled out, his entire body flexing as he focused every fibre of his being on this one goal.


    “Shit, what are you even doing!?” Gin yelled back, using the bending root as cover while returning arrows at the closest goblins.


    Moments later, the tearing sound ended in a loud snap as the root parted from the wall. Tod stepped back but did not wait to observe his very haphazard handiwork and instead immediately rushed to the other side of the tunnel, a whole fifteen feet to where the root ended entering the other wall.


    “Tie a rope around that end of it if ye can!” Tod shouted back, stopping a handful of feet away from the wall he then began ripping there also.


    “Tie rope!?” Gin exclaimed in confusion, but pulled out one of his coils of rope anyway, making sure he had time by killing the closest two goblins at least fifty feet behind them now, he throw a coil of rope worth twenty feet around the three feet thick root and quickly tied it off before returning to firing arrows down the tunnel.


    Once again the sound of wood ripping apart reached his ears, as he watched the over ten feet long pole of root turn and begin to run again as Tod dragged it behind him.


    “Got it! Go go!”


    “What the fuck do you even got!?” Gin demanded as he chased after him, barely catching up even at his maximum stride.


    “No time, you tied a rope?”


    “Yeah I’m dragging the other end with me! What’s this for!?”


    “Gimmie that, tie another to this end!” Tod said as he pulled the rope out of Gin’s hand, “Trust me yeah?”


    “Shit, not much choice there!” Gin grumbled, pulling out another coil and beginning to tie it around as once again javelins of bone descended on them.


    “The log’s slowing us down! They are going to catch up!” He said finishing the second knot.


    “We just need another root at the same angle at ground height or close!” Tod replied, grabbing the second rope’s end from Gin too.


    Gin glanced ahead as they continued to bob and weave between roots, now doing so more difficulty as Tod heaved with him the long log.


    “There! Looks a few feet off the ground though!” Gin pointed out ahead, a few hundred feet away.


    “But no way you’re getting that log past the bramble before it!”


    “Watch me.” Tod growled, as he sped up into a charge.


    Gritting his teeth, Gin paused momentarily and took aim. “Dammit fine!” stressing his arm as he nocked his thickest arrow, almost spear-like and pulled it back with his bow’s main and second string. “I only got one of these!” He shouted, the sound of his bow bending further than it had before echoing across the tunnel.


    He let it loose, sending it soaring ahead. Its wide bladed tip bashing into one root and cracking it asunder into falling from its bramble.


    Tod in turn took in a heavy breath, dropped the log and leapt one final step forward, crashing into another root making up the bramble that impeded them. The feeling of the bones in his shoulder shattering filled his vision red, but he pressed on through the sensation of agony until this root gave away also to his strength. His left shoulder malformed and bloody with a bone now sticking out, he heaved out in exasperated pain before pulling the log closer to him with the ropes and picking it back up with his remaining arm.


    Gin had reached him then, his gaze scanning over his ruined shoulder. “Holy, are you-”


    “Fine, we don''t have time to second guess!” Tod warned, managing to resist losing consciousness to the agony.


    Just then, three javelins landed around them.


    “Shit, move!” Gin exclaimed, rushing through the path they made in the bramble, followed up by Tod who dragged the log through with him.


    “Now what?” Gin asked, arriving at the root formation Tod wanted, turning to see him drop the log behind him and turning it to face the same as this one. The strange boy rushed to his side holding both ropes in his one good hand, as the other’s shoulder slowly but surely recovered itself.


    Tod threw the rope end’s over this root and then leapt over to the other side as well, Gin followed him and when he glanced back and under the root, his mind caught on.


    “Wait this is…” He turned to Tod who had taken grasp of the two ropes tightly into his one working hand.


    “It came to me when I saw the first root we cut out,” Tod mused as he listened intently to the sound of scurrying creatures chasing after them. “Back home, we press peeled oranges repeatedly between two planks to make jam.”


    “You are crazy.” Gin chuckled grimly.


    “I don''t have time to peel those goblins.” Tod said, as he listened to the goblins rushing through the bramble with much more ease than they had, and over the log he had dropped over fifteen feet back behind them.


    “But I’m gonna be a little greedy.” Listening to the foot falls, he counted as Gin stepped back and took aim ten feet away.


    “And I’m making some jam!” Suddenly Tod pulled at the ropes with all his might, rushing ahead and dragging them with him as fast as he could. He sprinted past Gin with a mischievous smile as the ropes sent smoke wafting off the root they were running over with such speed they dug through the bark.


    And Gin watched as the flailing hands and feet of several goblins lay being dragged ahead by the log that had just picked them up on its way forward.


    Poking out above and below the root they were all moments later smashed into, and grinded into, as it rolled up and over the root sending green and brown blood and viscera raining onto their side, much still landing over Gin as he began loosing arrows at survivors that were quick enough to duck under the log.


    Like shooting fish in a bucket, he had crouched low and loosed arrow after arrow under the root, ignoring it even as a whole green arm landed beside him.


    Momentarily he glanced up, fearing the bounced log would land on him too but, just then he head the footfalls coming back and then disappearing entirely. As behind him, Tod leapt whilst the log still remained falling in the air, and kicked it with all his might back over the other side.


    “Next batch!” Tod shouted, whipping the log downward using the two ropes, as Gin watched it almost crush another goblin in its landing.


    And as he loosed his last arrow, Gin also watched as the many goblins that had previously followed behind the log in confusion, now stood in terrorized realisation.


    That they were the next batch.


    Once again, Tod pulled and sprinted forward, dragging with several more goblins that failed to duck in time or were too close to the log to duck or dodge when it began to move.


    And once again, the sound of squealing, squelching and squishing filled the air.


    As the log crashed and rolled off the root, it suddenly broke in two, falling down with three thuds to the rocky cave floor.


    The remaining goblins looked up from were they lay on the floor, shuddering as the looming figure of a young man clambered to standing onto the root covered in the remains of their brethren.


    “Five left? Not the family reunion I wanted but,” Tod flexed his now healed shoulder.


    “I guess Pops was right, goblins still don''t know.” He smirked, showing off his tusk like teeth.


    “Never tick off a dreaming Troll.”