Auriga crept quietly in Rukbat’s wake. It was only her third time in the dungeon, and her nerves were obvious. They hadn’t gone deep enough to encounter anything truly dangerous, and Rukbat had taken care of the few creatures that had emerged to harass them. Honestly, she still wondered why he’d decided to take her under his wing. It didn’t stop her from being grateful, though. With every dive, her fear ebbed and her curiosity flourished. There was so much history here, and so little ...

After a short rest in the cave they thought was a tomb Vashti slipped through the vines again and left the cavern they’d explored previously. The wind ruffled their mane and tail, promising to lead them outside, but Vashti refused to listen, turning away from the way they’d come. There was no fun in exploring where you’d already been!   The breeze came in from another tunnel, a little narrower than the one Vashti had entered by, but wide enough for all but the bulkiest of...

Vashti trotted smartly along the trails worn by other explorers, creeping moss muffling the sound of their hooves. These places were interesting, sure, creatures and plants were always shifting things around, uncovering something new, hiding something old until it was new again, Vashti apricated this, but they wanted to see something they’d never seen before, so they veered off onto a less worn track as soon as there was a chance. The moss grew fast, so dozens, maybe hundreds of coursers co...

If their family was a strange thing, it did not matter. Bandy-legged, freshly born Delano looked like a miniature, carbon-copy of his strawberry-hued parent. Frog paler, more delicately boned than that of Bug. A family of Pucks traversing their dungeon, one with the dungeon itself. What was there to fear amongst lava-strewn caverns and mossy halls, when they had each other? When the next came, it was not merely of one or the other. Not so simple as all that. Moss, when they ca...

The dungeon’s soundscape was particularly monotonous today. Rukbat’s hooves clopped in time to the cool water dripping from the stalagmites, to the point where he could barely tell the difference anymore. His head began to dip, his ears drifting from their usual alert position. There had been an unusual lack of… well, really anything interesting today. A scarcity of monsters, only a few scraps of low-value treasure, and a dearth of other Coursers to cross paths with. At this rate, he wa...

In every sound there is an echo. The heat of dawn must melt into the cool of dusk, the crash of the sea must bow to the inflexible earth, all that is must fade into what was. The call of the dungeon is life itself. There must be an echo. You see it in the way the stonework of the moor is painted with copper stain. ...

A misstep. A pull. A snag. A hoof caught in a crevice, newly-opened, incongruent with his remembrance of this part of Overgrown Caverns. It is not strange that things should have moved. There have been rumblings more and more often, the depths shifting and yawning in their sleep. Chasms can open up down to the Furnace, even. To the Moors. This one is not that deep. Only enough to nip at his pastern and remind him to watch his step. Eocene takes a calming breath and backs up, mea...