Respawn Condition: Trash Mob

This odd creature, this thing that beholds, it slips through the cracks and crevices of the dungeon, as some strange sensation pulls it towards the deepest, darkest part of the world. It doesn’t know why it has the odd desire of wanting to reach the very bottom of the dungeon, to reach back towards where that cold ice is that it has left behind. But something lures it there, something calls it.

 

Yet its curiosity is too great to be swayed by such a simple sensation and it instead pokes its eye out of the dirt, staring at the thing that sits above it.

 

A giant crab stands in the middle of a large clearing, snipping away foliage with its massive claws and then tossing the trimmed plants onto its back. Sensing the intruder, it turns around and looks at the eye that pops out of the ground.

 

“Hi!” says the deceased crab, waving a giant undead claw. The thing that beholds blinks in confusion and pulls itself back down into the dirt, deciding it might be best to just keep going and to see something else.

 

Crawling through the rocks in a direction it is unable to decipher, it pops out somewhere else, staring at the two odd, sandstone creatures who are yelling at each other.

 

“Fine!” yells one of the sphinxes. “Go! Move out! See if I’ll miss you in the next plot-line.”

 

The other sphinx turns its head away in indignation, bending down to grab its things. “At least on another floor, there might be someone who appreciates everything I do,” it says with a sharp tone to its voice.

 

The thing that beholds crawls back into the rock. There are certainly lots of odd creatures here in the dungeon.

 

It decides to go somewhere else. Hearing the sound of a lot of voices coming from one location, it feels like that could be something interesting to look at.

 

The thing that peeps looks out, squeezing its eye out of the minuscule gap in the bricks as it stares at the scene below itself.

 

Six creatures sit in a circle. A zombie. A cultist. A skeleton. A giant, hairy beast of a man. A fire elemental and a suit of hollow-armor. Wait. No. The thing that beholds squints, seeing something else. A ghost. Seven people sit in the circle, all of them have one thing in common. Their missing jaws.

 

“Piotr,” says the zombie, nodding to the skeleton. “Piotr.”

 

“Piotr,” replies the skeleton with a shriek that causes everyone to flinch, before turning and nodding to the hollow-armor. “Piotr.”

 

“Piotr,” replies the hollow-armor nodding to the cultist. “Piotr.”

 

“Piotr,” replies the cultist, nodding to the king with no name. “Piotr.”

 

“Piotr,” replies the king with no name in a gruff voice, stretching the belt in his hands taut as he looks at the ghost. “Piotr.”

 

“PioOoOoOotr~,” says the ghost in a spooky voice.

 

“Shut up, ghost-Piotr,” say all of the other Piotrs at the same time.

 

This exchange goes on for a while, until all of them have greeted each of the other Piotrs.

 

“So I hear you didn’t get to fight your big fight in the end?” asks cultist-Piotr, looking at the hollow-armor.

 

Hollow-armor-Piotr shakes his head. “Aaaah, I blew it,” he says. “I thought I’d make them hustle a little to keep up with me, you know?” He winds his arm around in a circle as if stretching his shoulder. “I was too rough and too fast, I let the role get the best of me. I got obliterated by the end-fight before they even showed up.”

 

Cultist-Piotr pats him on his back. “At least you got a shot. I never even saw them. I was dead when they got to my floor and then they just never died at all. Seriously, what was that last body?”

 

“OooOOoo~” says ghost-Piotr, explaining how he was all excited to have a cool ghost adventure with the student. But then, they got themselves killed by the rat-queen two minutes after spawning as the only other ghost in the entire dungeon. It was very disappointing. All of the Piotrs sigh an exhausted sigh at the same time, all of them able to connect with that feeling on some level.

 

“They were a difficult one,” says fire-elemental-Piotr. “But I got to fight the hero-party with them.”

 

“Lucky. I didn’t get to see them at all,” shrieks skeleton-Piotr.

 

“I got killed by them,” replies the king with no name, throwing that into the circle. “It hurt a lot actually. I think they had some things to work out.”

 

The others think for a second. Skeleton-Piotr shrieks. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

 

The king with no name nods. “It wasn’t their lesson, but they learned it anyway.”

 

“Do you think our plot-line made sense?” asks fire-elemental-Piotr, rubbing his chin.

 

The king with no name nods. “I think so. Once you dig into the metaphor. At least we didn’t have to be the miller.”

 

“I hate that floor,” says cultist-Piotr.

 

“Same,” agrees fire-elemental-Piotr.

 

“OoOOo~” agrees ghost-Piotr.

 

“So what’s the plan now?” shrieks skeleton-Piotr.

 

“Dunno about you guys,” says cultist-Piotr. “But I’m going home to my wife.”

 

“I think you mean my wife,” says Fire-elemental-Piotr.

 

“OoOOoooo~!”

 

“You mean my wife?” asks the king with no name, tightening his belt and rising to his feet. All of the other Piotr’s jump up, grabbing their weapons as they get ready for a fight by the looks of things.

 

Zombie-Piotr shrugs. “I don’t care. You guys leave me out of this.”

 

The thing that beholds blinks, not understanding the social dynamics of the living in the least. Are all living creatures so odd, or is it just the way that creatures who live in the dungeon are?

 

It doesn’t know, but it decides that it doesn’t matter as it crawls back into the darkness behind the rocks that make up the dungeon wall. There is still that odd sound to follow which attracts its attention.

 

It’s strange. It’s almost like a heart-beat, like a throbbing coming from the deepest part of the dungeon, like a sound that beckons it, that lures it down deeper and deeper.

 

A sound that strikes twice, that vibrates through the walls and goes -

 

Thook-thook.

 

 

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