Today is a special day.

Today is a special day, because today is the one day a week Logue is permitted to go "map" (explore) the lower levels of the dungeon, without needing a chaperone or a babysitter in the form of one of the older, more experienced dungeoneers.

A flurry of movement appears in Logue's peripheral vision, followed by a quietly indignant batlike noise.

By himself, save for his trustworthy bat Cocoa, he amends. Cocoa has already been along for the ride on several of Logue's more perilous dungeon expeditions and knows how to handle themselves.

Hundreds of miles underneath the rocky surface, and a good six hours into his mapping of this (previously) unexplored section of the dungeon, Logue has already come across several interesting finds. He carefully marks direction and location down in the pages of his dungeoneer's journal. It is at this point several hours into the expedition when Logue hits the first snag. The path he has been following leads straight to a crumbling stone ledge. This is not the most fascinating detail about the path. What is most spectacular, and also wildly dangerous, is that the narrow, crumbling stone ledge is suspended several dozen feet above a slow-moving river of underground lava.

Logue's pale green eyes widen in surprise. Undeniably beautiful, the lava gives off its own strange red-orange light.

Cocoa chitters, alarmed.

"Don't worry," Logue promises, crumbling stone flaking away from underhoof as he begins to traverse the narrow, rocky ledge.

It is just wide enough for a horse to fit. Barely.

The bright orange-gold sludge underneath the narrow ledge is deceptively slow-moving, for all of its destructive power. The heat is incredible even several dozen feet above it, a shimmering haze that rises from the surface in clouds of toxic vapour.

"Careful now," the humble courser murmurs to his brave companion, Cocoa.

A fall, no matter how minor, would surely be fatal.

Just as that morbid thought crosses Logue's mind, one of the threadbare seams holding his bursting pack gives way with a resounding snap.

Logue jumps, startled, as a number of interesting items clatter out of the newly made large hole in the side of his pack and careen through the air, most notably including his... dungeoneer's notebook.

Logue's heart sinks as the familiar leather-bound volume bounces off the rocks several times before coming to rest on the surface of the lava. For the span of a single heartbeat nothing happens. Logue's soft brown ears perk up- he might still have time to save his notebook if he hurries-

The cover bursts into flames.

Logue sighs. Blast it!

He had been meaning to reinforce that pocket for weeks, but just hadn't gotten around to it. Oh well.

On his shoulder, Cocoa chitters reassuringly.

"Thank you, Cocoa," Logue replies staunchly, staring mesmerized at the lava floes. "It did eat my notebook. Never fear, I shall have us out of here in no time."