Blood dripped onto my shoulder. At least, I think it was supposed to be blood. It certainly smelled like blood, but it was hard to tell when it was smothered in a dull blue spotlight. I stepped lightly to the right, avoiding a puddle filling a dip in the stone floor. The spotlight followed my action and cut through the equally dull orange that lit the rest of the room.

If that was blood, it was both gross and impressive. Rivulets of the stuff beaded randomly on the ceiling, though the majority of them seemed to congregate above four large basins set on black stone console tables. Obsidian, perhaps? There was a volcano dungeon two weeks away from here. Getting the tables would have been easy enough.

My attention turned to the focal point of the room, a wide dais. Stone steps led upwards to a raised platform on which a sacrificial altar rested. A terrible looking affair made of black stone with cracks of red light pulsing towards the top. I couldn’t see the top too well from where I was standing, but it looked like there might have been a dagger atop.

On either side of the platform were two supernaturally beautiful women. Humans, by the looks of them, wearing lingerie that accentuated their curvy figures. The black fabric, hair, and deep red lips would have made a great contrast with their pale skin if it weren't for this distracting orange glow.

They looked nervous. Their eyes flitted from me, to each other, and then to the altar between them. I was about to speak when the sound of thunder rippled through the cavernous room and a cloud of bats appeared above the altar. The orange light intensified, muting the blue spotlight until it was more gray than blue.

The bats coalesced into a human form floating in the air. A cloaked human, just as pale and attractive as the women flanking him, descended slowly. His red eyes stared into mine with a deep, smoldering intensity. He wouldn't be able to hypnotize me at this distance.

His feet hit the ground with a gentle tap. The women surged forward, the one on my right stepping just a tad bit slower than the other, and they removed the cloak from the man to reveal a rather sharp looking suit. Actually, it wasn't a cloak; it looked more like a mantle. More authority than a simple cloak would demand. They laid it gently across the altar.

"Fools!" The man boomed. His deep, rich voice echoed nicely through the room. "You're too late! The ritual is nearly complete and there's no stopping it now!"

I crossed my arms, watching as he waved his arms about. He spoke with his hands as well as his voice. Very animated.

"Soon the Blood Rain will be upon us! The storm will cover the sun for a thousand years and welcome us night walkers back to the surface! We will reclaim this country and spread my name far and wide! The world will know the evil of Count Sarolious Etomine Falsavar!" He threw his arms into the air. More thunder crashed from the dais, this time accompanied by the sound of hundreds of flapping bat wings.

"No," I said dryly. "We've come to stop you and save the Oracle of Storms. Your ritual isn't done yet, Count Falsavar."

"She is already nearly dead, heroes! And your deaths will be the statement upon which your rebellion ends. Have at thee!" Count Falsavar brought his hands down and pointed them directly at me. Nothing happened.

I stared at him for a few moments, collecting my thoughts and how best to deliver them. "It was…" I began, scratching my head. "It's okay."

Sarolious' hands dropped to his sides as his face went from intense and intimidating to shocked. "Just okay?" He whispered incredulously. Despite the distance, I still heard him. The acoustics on that dais were amazing. His sound guy did really good work.

"Yeah, I mean, you have some good stuff here," I admitted. "The blood drip is a nice touch, sure to unnerve the squeamish and faint of heart. Can we turn it off, by the way?"

"Absolutely! Pardon me, where are my manners?" Sarolious said. He snapped his fingers and the dripping slowed to a stop, the pools of blood quickly evaporating. That was a neat trick. "It's part intimidation and part practical. The blood provides us a power boost, as you know," he explained.

"Yes, I'm quite aware of how vampires work," I said with a nod. I began walking around the room now that I was unimpeded by the blood. "But, and this part is really throwing me off here, but what's with the orange and blue lighting?"

Sarolious snapped his fingers again and the room's lights changed to a harmless sunlight equivalent. "I thought that was the new thing, right?" He looked to the women flanking him. "Right? Orange for the bad guys and this grayish blue for the good guys? Girls?"

While the girls looked at each other, not sure what to say to their boss, I sighed. "Sarolious, that was a fad that only lasted about three years, if that. And it was already considered obnoxious the whole time. No one uses the orange-blue look anymore."

"Well, I'm going to have a word with Steve, my lighting technician. He assured me that it was all the rage!" Sarolious snapped. I knew he wasn't mad at me. I just happened to be there telling him something he didn’t want to hear.

"I guess I don't understand why you'd want to change things up to be more modern," I said. "The vampire plotting to blot out the sun is a classic for a reason. You don't need to change it." I stopped beside one of the basins and peered in. Just like the floor, the blood inside seemed to evaporate despite there being no drain. That made cleanup a lot easier. I wondered if it would work on spilled adventurer blood.

"I just… I guess I just feel like I'm out of touch," Sarolious said. "I've been doing this for such a long time. Sometimes it feels like I’m doing the same dog and pony show I did during my second century as a dungeon owner."

"I know, Sarolious, but you’re a brilliant builder. People talk about your dungeons for decades after they’ve passed. The Department of Dungeons still uses your Rathelin dungeon as a standard for vampire-owned dungeons." I shook my head and smiled. "Kidnapping princesses is play book, but allowing them to take a vampire back to the castle? Priceless"

"That was one of my finer moments, wasn't it?" Sarolious smiled. He looked away and I could tell that he was reminiscing. I cleared my throat and brought him back to the present. "Do you think moving away from the more monstrous vampires was a good play? Candrovis was irritated, but I think it was a good call. What do you think of Marly and Janus?" He indicated the two women beside him. They smiled and gave a small wave, seeming to have regained their nerves.

"Union?" I asked. I left the basin behind to approach the dais. It was tall enough that I would have to climb to get on top, but a human sized creature could make it up with much less trouble. That came with the territory of being a Halfling, however. Many things were made with tall folk in mind.

"Oh, no," one said. "Not yet. Marly and I graduated from VU just last year and this is our first gig."

"Go Bats," Marly said shyly, raising a fist to her shoulder level.

It wasn't unheard of to hire right out of a henchman school. Union workers were more diligent and reliable, but there was something to be said about the enthusiasm of youth. If it were a different dungeon boss and not Sarolious, I may have had some choice words. For this, I just nodded.

"I think moving away from the Nosferatu types is a good call, even if they put up a stink," I said. I gave the two a critical eye, looking at their garments and watching their body language. "Are you two alright with what you're being asked to wear?"

"I absolutely am," Janus said immediately. "I majored in Femme Fatality, so this is right up my alley."

I looked at Marly. She seemed to wither under my gaze. "I knew this was the uniform for us specifically, but now that I'm wearing it and an outsider is looking at me…" Her voice trailed off.

Sarolious grabbed his mantle from the altar and placed it over Marly's shoulders to cover her. It started soaking up some of the blood on the floor, she was much shorter than he was, but a bloodstained garment wasn't a problem for a vampire. "Marly," he started, his tone supportive. "You should have said something, I would have collaborated with you for something you were comfortable with."

"I didn't want to lose this job," Marly explained. "I need the money and Janus is like my best friend."

"I am not going to fire you over this, of course I won't. We'll find something else that you'll like but still fits the same theme. Okay? Covering up and being mysterious can get the same vibe as my original intent."

Marly looked up at Sarolious and searched his face. Then she smiled brightly. "Thank you, Mr. Falsavar."

"Yes, thank you for working with Marly. Shall we move on to the next point?" I asked.

"Of course, of course."

I nodded. "As I was saying, Nosferatu are out and more conventionally attractive vampires are very popular. Opinion is currently split between if vampires should shine in sunlight, but this won't come up in an underground dungeon. You chose well, if I may say so." My gaze traveled to the women again. "Nothing salacious meant, of course."

"No worries," Janus claimed, waving it off. "Marly here is a Shiner, actually. I am sooo jealous of her skin. Mine gets super blotchy within seconds of exposure to natural sunlight."

"Janus, stop," Marly whispered. I could tell that she was pleased, though.

"Your sound guy also did way too good a job on the acoustics in here," I said, returning to where I had stood in the middle of the room. "Usually that’s not a complaint, but I could hear your whispers no matter where I was.”

Sarolious nodded. "I understand. I'll fill up the room with a few more things to help with that. But…" he hesitated. Out of character for the great Count Falsavar. "What of my monologue? I tried to keep it short; adventurers these days lack patience, and some have the audacity to skip over pre-battle banter entirely!"

I sighed. "Yeah, those are getting more and more frequent. We've started labeling them as A-MH. Adventurer class murder hobo. I'm not a fan, either." I shook my head. They really were a plague in the industry. "The speech is fine. It's short and succinct. Maybe add in an insult and threaten something specific?"

"If I can get away with it," he accepted. "I'll have to watch them closely so I know if I can. If they have a bard, then definitely."

"If not, it's basically a coin toss," I agreed.

I turned my gaze to the ceiling and thought about the dungeon, Sarolious' boss room, and his appearance within it. There was nothing unfair about the dungeon that I had seen, and it would provide a challenge worthy of the area. I nodded to myself. "Okay, I'm giving you the green light."

"Yes!" Sarolious shouted. The girls jumped in place and clapped their hands. Excitement all around. "Thank you so much."

"You'll receive an official notice after the paperwork goes through. After that you can open the dungeon at your leisure. You can expect it in three to five business days." I held up a hand as Sarolious opened his mouth. "But I do highly recommend ditching the lights for something less obnoxious and adding to the space."

Sarolious left the dais and walked towards me. "From the bottom of my shriveled heart, thank you, sir." He reached down with his hand. Sarolious towered over me, so he had to lean forward to do it.

"It was my pleasure, Sarolious," I said. " I look forward to hearing the stories this dungeon will pump out."

"Would you like an escort out?" He asked.

"No need, it's a mostly linear dungeon. I'll find my way. Goodbye and good luck." With a quick wave, I spun and started heading towards the door.

Sarolious turned to the girls as I made my exit. "Okay! Let's figure out what to do with this room. I'm thinking of more basins. Thoughts?"

As I walked through the dungeon, nodding my greetings at the minions as they lounged pre-open, my pocket started to vibrate. My Sending Stone. I pulled the thin, gray brick out and swiped my thumb in a swirling pattern before holding it up to my ear. "Dungeon Inspector Badger speaking," I answered.

"How did things go with Falsavar?" The voice coming from the stone sounded like both it and its owner chain smoked for a century and a half. But I knew this voice, and immediately pictured the surly, aging dwarf that had been chief inspector since before I was born.

"Chief Inspector Brackenhorst,” I greeted. “I just finished and I'm heading for the entrance now. Sarolious Falsavar has the green light, and I'm heading back to the inn now."

"We'll take care of the paperwork, I have another assignment for you not too far from where you're at. Small town called Thatcher. Apparently a new dungeon has popped up under a local tavern run by someone proclaiming themselves the Rat King."

"Thatcher?" I asked. Thatcher was more than a half day's ride out from where I was. "Surely there has to be someone closer? Wasn't Kaelmourn out that way? He’s got a few years under his belt, let him take care of the new dungeon. "

"Kaelmourn could do it," Brackenhorst started. He paused, which was something he didn't do often. Dwarves like him preferred to barrel through their conversations with reckless abandon. I wasn't looking forward to what was next. "Your assignment isn't the dungeon or the Rat King."

Oh no.

"Your assignment-" Oh no, oh no."-is to keep track of the rookie."

I sighed heavily. "Fuck." I hated rookie watch.