And so the door from the previous dungeon was selected, mechanical gears and whirring noises bringing the way to life. The faces laughed and reminded the group to ‘enjoy what was behind the door’. And with trepidation, the group advanced through the door. 

“See?” Mircea said as they all made it in and it was just…a hallway. An innocent-looking hallway, wide enough for the four of them to walk two abreast. Mircea and Safira in the front, Signe and Syle in the back. “See, mi amigos, nothing wrong here! We made a good choice and picked the best door, and none of us have died! That’s such a good thing for all of us, isn’t it?” His gait was even and light, as if full of pride for his team surviving the encounter with the doors. “I knew the knowledge that I had would be helpful.” Safira spoke softly, matching the movement of the de-facto leader with ease, but with more of a solidness than the light step that the other Courser had. 

Syle and Signe, ever vigilant, brought up the rear. They didn’t believe that they were going to be out of the woods just yet. Dungeons rarely were, and the two of them grew up on stories and practice hunts in mock dungeons. Syle, especially, was vigilant. He was raised by a Courser parent who drilled into him the meaning of being careful and watching out for everything. Nothing was as it seemed in the dungeons; that much the two of them knew well. Over the course of their days in the Nexus–what Mircea called their little slice of the universe, safe from encroaching on any other territories, safe from the dungeon entrances where monsters seeked to lurk and make their homes–Syle and Signe learned about the others in their group, the ones who were leading them on and down the hall.

Mircea proclaimed himself the leader, the oldest of the four Courser though not necessarily the wisest. His story, he explained to them one night, was too fantastical and long to really explain to others, but sometimes he could be found at night taking in deep breaths while staring up at the starry skies in wonder. He usually deflected when questions got too specific, often changing the topic on the questions or guiding everyone abruptly to something different.

Safira was not the youngest, but she was the wisest of the group. Raised by a group of Courser who were…more like keepers of lore and wisdom than battlers of the dungeons, she had set out on her own when she was old enough to do so and hd encountered Mircea on one of his earlier missions, tag-teaming with him for future ones later down the line.

The pets who joined them all on this quest had fallen silent too, paying the most attention to everything. Though three of the four of them jumped as Stellaluna, the painted bat perched on top of Signes’ head, let out a series of chirps, high pitched and enough to catch the attention of all present.

Mirceas’ ears swiveled and he and Safira slowed to a halt. “Siggy, mija, whats going on?” He said, giving her a new nickname because he could. “Stella was trying to see what was up ahead.” She listened attentively to the chitter, an ear occupied by the quiet conversation of the bat. “Says that there are no enemies in the space before us. We should be clear.”

Comforted by these words, the Courser pressed on and soon came to a large room. Larger than life, it felt like, but it also felt…empty. Cold? Like the air was devoid of all of its heat as they entered the space and explored it. The looming statue guarding the room and the next door was imposing. 

“Syle?” Mircea called out to his new favorite Courser, second only to Safira. “Aye, I don’t like the look of this one either, Muchacho.” Syle spoke with his Gaelic accent clear and solid in his voice. “Trust me in that big statues and open halls are never good.”

“It’s wearing a bit, but not one I recognize.” Signe commented on the statue, looking up with wide eyes. 

“Bits were used by older humans when they were fighting.” Safira explained. “They supposedly rode older generations of Coursers into battle and if they saw something we didn’t, they used them.”

“And they sat? In your mouth? Oh thats horrifying!” Mircea snorted, tail swishing angrily. “I would NEVER want one of those in my mouth.”

Abdel swooped up from Mirceas’ back to get a closer look, just as the room began to rumble. “Watch! Honk!” Goostarion warned in alarm as they all made a rush towards the wall on the opposite side of the statue.

A statue whose mouth glew with inner flame that blasted out shortly after. Signe let out a whinnying scream as the tip of her tail got caught in the blast, angrily swishing it back and forth to get the fire out. With some support from the winged ones and a bash or two against the wall, it was out. 

Phew! A hot scenario indeed!