The silence is disconcerting. Every other chamber in the dungeon they'd come across so far had had some whisper of life, or at least magic pretending to be life, evident. They can see multiple hallways leading off this room; maybe it had once been a central hub for something? The two strangers move forward, surprised that they move as one. They agree: there is no use staring at the room without knowing what is in this forsaken chamber, and so they begin to root through the dust-covered...

Four Coursers meet at the entrance to the next cavern. Two are brothers; they know each other’s moves inside and out. They have never met the others before. There is safety in numbers, the old saying goes, but in times like these, where stealth is so important, the brothers want nothing to do with strangers whose abilities they do not know or trust.   The two others are unrelated to each other. They me...

"That's funny," Layal said to their mimic, Puddle, as they spun slowly in a circle. "I think we've been here before." The mimic's hinges squeaked as its maw opened and shut, teeth clicking together with a decisive snap. "I think so too," Layal said. "We took the door on the...left." Puddle didn't deign to respond, pulling at its restraints to be let down. "Alright," Layal said, unbuckling the leather straps. "You lead." Two gruelling hours later, they were b...

Layal shook their mane and slowed to a walk. Finally, a place to rest. The gentle trickle of running water tinkled into a pool in a corner of the cavern, its glistening surface inviting. They reached back and unbuckled their mimic. Puddle dropped to the ground, hopping immediately towards the water. For some reason, the sentient chest had an affinity for any moisture it could access- hence its name. "Figures." Layal shook their head with a smile, watching the mimic with affectio...

"Well, that's just not cool," Layal said as they tried once more to move their foot to no avail. Puddle's hinges squeaked as the mimic dropped another enormous dollop of spit onto the ground. "That's kind of gross too, you know," Layal chastised, with another yank. It was no use. The tentacle, with its rows of endless sticky, strong suckers, was not giving up. "Well, off you go, then," Layal said, reaching back to unstrap the mimic from its makeshift shelf attached...

Layal stopped again and dabbed at their flank with a rag. The dampness just… never ceased. The Courser’s side was consistently drenched, thanks to the sentient chest strapped to their back; their mimic was the St. Bernard of drooling boxes. They’d have to find a way to fix that soon.   They picked up a canter as they approached the cavern. There was a deep, spike-filled crevice not far from the entr...