Chrysalis

It's a factor of the Dungeon that I find has been curiously understudied, the fact that the denizens of that place, the monsters in all their various forms, change over time. One hundred years ago the tower lead a detailed study into the menace of the Scorpionem genus that had been terrorising the Dungeon under Enlightened Alliance lands. And now? That particular variety of monster is gone, almost never seen.

The question that needs answering is why? Environmental pressures do no not account for such a rapid extinction of a species from the Dungeon on their own. Monster populations are incredibly adaptable, even the less intelligent species are known to adjust behaviours and select different mutations in order to adapt to the ever changing conditions around them at lightning quick speeds.

So why the dearth of Scorpionem monsters? Some of my peers have suggested that they were hunted to extinction, a prospect I find laughable. These creatures were featured in a study detailing their detrimental takeover of a large swathe of Dungeon territory, and we are to believe that they were exterminated by the surface races? Not a single documented case of a Dungeon species, let alone genus, being driven extinct by surface intervention exists.

And why? Because we cannot prevent or control Dungeon spawns. When a large population of one monster gathers together, it is known to cause a spawn point to form, but it isn't required. Destroying all of one species at a point does not prevent them from being spawned elsewhere. It's almost as if the Dungeon decided that it didn't need or want to spawn Scorpionem monsters anymore, so it stopped. Had they fulfilled their purpose? Were they deemed to be unsuccessful? We are on the edge of a very important question, one that touches on the very nature and purpose of the Dungeon.

Does the Dungeon choose which monsters are spawned and where? If so, the implications are terrifying.

Excerpt from 'Biodiversity in the Dungeon, a dissertation on its breadth and purpose' by Xinci

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Isaac Bird had seen some plops in his day. When his father had walked out his mother, little Isaac little more than a wee toddler himself, that'd been some ripe, fresh bull plops right there. His poor ma had worked herself to the bone, scrubbing pots and serving tables at the Skeevy Rat, a complete dive on the water front.

,

out to a local guard company, finally able to bring home a bit 'o coin

Some men could be crushed under that kind of weight, but not Isaac Bird, no sir. He'd picked himself up and

no mistake. Guards on the take? Plops. Merchants stepping on the citizens, above the law due to their wealth? Big bag 'o plops right there. Poor people strugglin, starvin', dyin' with nobody to look after 'em, thrown

as savage Dungeon monsters swarmed over the walls, that'd been the largest, most potent serving of plops that Isaac had ever clapped eyes on. Sacrificing the people of Midum so they'd have more time to escape, those worthless sacks of trash had ground the poor under their heel

surprised, but the callousness of it

he struggled to clear the sting out of his eyes. The damned smoke was everywhere. Even as he coughed Isaac found

Mastery has reached level

survived he might be able to reach Spear Supremacy before he turned thirty, quite the honour

the attack coming out of nowhere. Mainly because City Lord Cranten pulled all the scouts in and chucked them inside the wall when he found out what had happened in Liria. Terrified of

"what are you watin' for?

able bodied survivors of Midum heeded his call and stumbled back into position, braced against the splintered doors that were the last

once more through the crack in the door on instinct. His intuition was rewarded with a pained growl and a squelching impact as the spear tip

BOOM!