Dwarf fortress remove floor

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Louelle, Scout Specialist Technical Exterminator
Date [standardized human time]: August 31, 2136
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Limna was right where I left her. She was sitting hunched over the interface of our transportation vessel, and as we entered, she twitched her ear toward us.
- His sacrifice was in vain - she said in a somber tone, her slumped posture still facing the main holo. - They won’t even look at the evidence.
Within the corner of my vision, I saw Pilipin's face return to normal. Anger slowly washed away from his features, and instead confusion began to take its place. Perplexed, he signaled me with his tail to clarify. I took the hint and pointed my claw at the screens that displayed various camera feeds, and he quickly noticed that one with the feed from the meeting room camera was dark. He was also quick to add things up, and with this new realization, a spark of resentment flashed in his eye. With one hand, Pilipin slipped off the human-made colorful attire and considered its weight.
- Well then, why won’t you look at the evidence yourself! - He shouted and flung the dream catcher away, in the general direction of the female Venlil.
The moment she recognized Pilipin's voice, Limna quickly spun around in her chair to face us. Unfortunately, the offending rag caught her by surprise as it zipped past her and, with a muffled splat, landed right next to her.
- You’re alive! But we… what is this thing? - She started asking questions as her eyes flicked from Pilipin to the prismatic garment stuck to the bottom of the screen. - What happened? - Finally, Limna asked the question that actually mattered.
- First things first. Louelle, check if you can somewhat ‘burry’ our submission, preferably deep - Pilipin ordered and pointed the main terminal with his tail.
Without further ado, I went to the ship console to unceremoniously unseat the confused civilian. Limna, sensing what I was just about to do, scooted from her seat and observed as I reviewed the last snapshot of the message resync tool.
- And you! – Pilipin caught Limna's attention once more. - You will answer a very important question.
I got myself busy checking system registers but still overheard everything they were discussing.
- What translation method have you implemented for the conversation with the savage? - he asked with the utmost self-control.
- The t-text t-translation for both sides was managed by the built-in Dict-o-box. It-t was managed by your own holopad with an updated human language library - she responded after a moment of thought. - I found out the app defaults to that option when it detects latency spikes, or in our case, when I proxied your conversation, so…
- Defaults from what – Pilipin caught a detail, and I had to stop my work to listen to Limna's answer.
- You have to understand that the conversation through the app is not E2EE – she started going more into technical details while Pilipin went back to retrieve his holopad from the cabinet. - It goes through a third party monitor, in our case, me, and an online context broker for some fancy smart functionality.
- Stuff me and hand me over to the Grays – I groaned and covered my face in my claws, shocked by the information she omitted about such a crucial component in her ‘hack’.
- Excuse me? - she asked at a loss from my reaction.
- Dealing with languages without a translation model Dict-o-box communicates with its servers to provide information to update or create that model, in response, it receives a frame of reference data – I stated the obvious. - Pilipin, do you remember the screw ups with the first Yotul recruits, sir? - I asked Pilipin as he came back with his holopad in hand. He groaned and winced as probably memories of the fuck-ups those backwater primitives caused flooded his mind.
- Well, it looks like now I’m on the opposite end of the shit sitck – he commented about his situation and motioned with his tail for Limna to come with him.
- Alright. Louelle, you do you, and Limna, you’re coming with me. As I understand it, this context translation function works fine on verbal translation implants, right? - Pilipin asked her, and I didn’t hear a yes, but right after the question, he continued. - Great, we’ll have a quick voice-to-text experiment in the back, and then, considering the output, I’ll decide what to do next - the sound of closing sleeping cabin doors was what I heard next.
Right, let’s focus back on the report.
Logs cleared. Registers overridden. I left no trace of sending anything from this shuttle. Now to login with my credentials, and maybe I’ll even be able to revoke the predator attack report completely before it gets processed further down the pipeline.
Where in deep hell is it? Why is there no ID with the right time signature? It was automatically rejected? Why?
I reread the automatic reply in my mind, as this was the first time I saw this kind of flag attached to a report.
Now this is just treason.
The line was supposed to take into consideration all signs and reports of predatory behavior, but judging from the reply attached to it, that policy has recently changed.
"Due to the increasing amount of false positive sightings and reports of human ‘true nature’ all new submissions regarding human predatory behaviors have been temporarily suspended. We suggest rereading the ministerial pamphlet ‘Social predators and you’ on human conduct and practices or trying to consult the issue on your holopad with a dedicated human volunteer to resolve the problem."
Kicking back in the chair, I loosen up and let my mind wander.
That’s one problem out of mind, but damn. You can’t even file a formal complaint against them. This is it! The conquerors must be bribing the corrupt and tricking the single-minded, if not to eat them, then surely to slowly subjugate and enslave the Venlil population.
Lost in my musings, I faintly noticed the stifled laughs and shouting coming from the cabin until the door flung open to the side.
- NO! I don’t believe it! I don’t want to! - Pilipin was shouting as he exited the small cabin, gripping his holopad tightly in his hand, while Limna giggled, her laughter emanating from the inside.
Oooh, he’s really pissed.
The officer's short cut fur was standing up on its ends; you could see the gray, undyed undercoat poking from underneath. His tail was low and lashing, restlessly bouncing from end to end of the metal doorframe. Face orange with embarrassment and rage, eyes frantically looking for something to set on down finally stopped on me.
- Just... tell... me – he stated, huffing with rage. - You somehow managed to 'unexist' the report completely.
- Ye-s. It was… it has been dealt with – I replayed, not bothering to explain and enrage him further.
- Great. That’s a good thing. One good thing – he repeated, slowly cooling his emotions. - The camera room footage? - Pilipin asked while walking to my station.
Flicking the security app back to life made the feed appear on the second screen beside me… the one that got slightly obstructed by the rainbow garment stuck to its surface.
NOPE! I’m not touching that. Not now, not ever.
In the room, there was a lone Sivkit in a janitor uniform, sitting in an office chair similar to the one I was in. Judging from his posture, it was evident he wasn’t cut for the job, as he was drifting into sleep from time to time, bobbing his head up and down as the urge to take a nap got the better of him.
- Competent as the pair we met before – I murmured, resisting the urge to check the clinic feed. - It seems the footage is stored locally and deletes itself after a few rotations.
Fiddling and scrolling past the system logs back by date and not finding anything older than two standard cycles confirmed my suspicions that the station had limited storage space for recordings.
- I think it’s best we leave it alone and let it remove itself. Our meddling would draw further unwanted attention – I continued my thoughts to Pilipin as he watched the substitute operator's ineptitude to do his job proficiently with visible relief.
- Alright. Let’s just hope this won’t come back and bite us in the rear - he concluded. - That leaves us with only one problem remaining – he added, leaning on the console and crossing his arms over his chest. - The one waiting for us outside.
- Oh, come on! - Limna suddenly materialized behind me, shouting her opinion. - You’re going to dump him after you get the best lick of your life only because he doesn’t fit your narrative?
Glancing at my colleague, I was certain to find him infuriated again by that statement, but instead he got lost in his reverie, brooding at her words and glancing in the direction of the bulkhead doors.
You can’t be serious?!
- Well, I do have to confess that, for me, he did pass the empathy test… orally. – Pilipin then took a deep breath, probably ready to surrender further to his temptations, but instead his features suddenly changed.
It was clear as daylight that the Venlil officer had figured something out, and soon he shared his idea with newfound confidence.
- Alright, Joe said he wants some good time? I’ll show him some good time – said the trapper exterminator as a mischievous smile crept on his face. - I’ll give him the best time of his life. In return, we’ll have the opportunity to see his true colors and maybe gain access to some of the restricted data on humans.
That was a solid argument to keep the predator close despite the dangers it would carry. When working with humans at the space port, the translator's notifications were often labeled not safe for life or restricted. Some of the information that crept up during their conversations that the translator software picked up was even fully censored, or access to it was strictly denied.
- Pilipin, after all of this, do you seriously still think they are some kind of evil conquerors? - Limna asked, her shoulders slumped and her tail slightly cocked in disbelief.
- In one way or another...– he replied, and started to tap something on his holo.
A moment passed in silence as we were waiting for him to further expand on his statement. Instead, we were startled by the sound of metal scraping against metal, which was immediately followed by a loud thumping on the shuttle doors.
- The handle won’t budge! – A muffled, low growl emanated from the outside.
- Leave the handle alone! It’s for emergency use only! - shouted Pilipin, who rushed to assist by opening the door from the inside.
The officer pushed the big red button next to the entrance and almost immediately jumped away from a brown mass that assaulted him the moment they opened. I was too surprised to move, but Limna scampered back to the cabin, tripping on the raised doorstep and tumbling inside. The other thing that soon tumbled through, although through from the opposite direction, was Joe. Having the unfortunate benefit of watching all of this unfold from the comfort of a seated position, I observed the meat eater flop on top of his enormous backpack face-first.
- I suggest we tie him up for the trip – I stated my concerns as the clumsy excuse of a predator regained his composure and started lifting himself off the floor. – For safety reasons – I quickly added as Joe's gaze settled on me with killing intent.
- Is rope bondage just a big friendship bracelet for your kind, or is this just you? – Joe humored my concerns and started checking his traveling duffle, probably for any rips and tears.
- Ha hah ha! Go ahead, officer, cuff him. You’ll just get him more horny – Limna added her own criticism, peaking her ears from the cabin.
- Enough! All of you! - Pilipin ended our dispute before it would even begin and motioned with his tail for his acquaintance to come out. - Joe, this is Limna. Limna, that’s Joe.
Although I dislike being the butt of someone's jokes, the female Venlil came out relaxed from this short exchange of humor. Still, she approached with her ears perked up and pointed to the dangerous predator in front of her.
- Hi. Joseph Savage, or Joe for short – he spoke and hunched over, stretching his hand forward.
- H-h-hello. Limna... – she introduced herself in return, unsure what to do with the human appendage practically shoved in her face.
- That’s a human greeting – I threw my expertise in, probably saving her from any faux pas before she would come to any stupid conclusions... like maybe licking it. - You’re supposed to shake it.
She then proceeded to grip it with both of her hands and shake it in all directions.
Close enough.
- Great, now Limna here works in the PID. She will register you with the Magestratta. For the time being, your address of permanent residence will be assigned to my flat. She will handle the required paperwork on our way back – Pilipin reviled his plan. - Just follow Limna to the cabin and be a good predator. Don’t try anything stupid, you hear? - he added, pointing his finger to the predator's face.
- Sure thing, I remember orientations. Rule 8 includes ‘no petting without consent’ – Joe apologetically replied while Limna blushed orange on her face. - Although I thought it applied to different kinds of petting.
- The… WHAT? - Limna voiced her concerns, embarrassed by the lewd definitions the translation implant bombarded her vision with.
- That’s rule 73 for you – the predator quipped, quickly blinking with one eye at the female Venlil.
The human straightened himself, looked down upon the Venlil pair in front of him, and shook his head from side to side, letting out a small chuckle.
- Before I met my chew toy here in person, I thought you just didn’t like scritches. Now I think the guidelines have more to do with you keeping your dignity and not leaving an embarrassing snail trail on every pet person's lap you meet than…
- OUT! Git! - the officer yelled, his face orange with rage and embarrassment, not wanting to hear more about the depravity of his kind. - Go and fill out the bumfodder! - He shouted, probably not wanting to face more of the predator's lewd claims.
- Alright, alright! No need to go into super cheeto mode for this – Joe quickly came back on his comedy act – Ok, let's go fill them out.
We eyed the human being led to the cabin by Limna and felt relief as we soon heard the bureaucrat's first-line support interview questions.
Seething from the insult toward their kind, Pilipin walked back to the ship doors and closed them, pushing the button with a little more force than was normally required.
- Let’s go home, Louelle – he said with a sigh. - I need a cold shower.
I’m all for that, sir...
​
INFO:

1. I found an engine, yay!
2. The series will continue somewhere in July under a different name. I heard there is a post for writers on this Discord app, so I'll have to check it out before committing more to it.
3. I'll like to thank Quill bot for grammar checks, KoboldAI for assistance in writing, TavernAI for a place where I could talk to Pilipin, Limna, Louelle, and all the other characters, and most importantly, this NSFW community for their patience and understanding. Without your comments, I would just keep their adventures on my drive, never to be seen by anyone.

I absolutely adore games like rimworld, dwarf fortress, kenshi, etc. but life has been stressful lately and my dumb brain is on other things. I was wondering if there are any games that are similar, but are a lot more cute/colourful and easy? i still like the idea of building a colony and having characters with little stories to tell and stuff like that but i just don't have the energy or time to sink really deep into strategic aspects of them.

I’m still fairly new and trying to perfect my craft but I’m doing most of the electrical on this house and I’m wondering how many lighting circuits you guys would put for this upper floor. Some of the cans got removed but for the most part it’s the same. I personally was going to put three? Wbu guys?

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A few days after Kazue and Mordecai finished the fifth floor they had a set of visitors from Riverbridge which included a couple of surprises. One of those surprises was the inclusion of Brongrim and Nainvil with the set of guards coming in for training. The dwarf and half-orc had managed to negotiate a supervised parole where they worked for the city guards, and part of that duty was going to include training at the dungeon.
The other surprise was a visit from their sister-in-law, Hainako. Moriko’s little sister had been sent with a few sets of medicines for Kazue to try and report back on efficacy. Once satchel and note were delivered she hung out with them in the war room so she could watch the training group move through the dungeon.
The group had two recruits with only a basic level of training, which bogged down the team a bit. Mordecai sent out instructions to keep the challenge down to a minimum, but even so they only barely managed to scrape through the fourth floor and it was clear that they weren’t getting through the fifth floor. Mordecai was glad that they’d shown the good sense to call it off there, he’d have considered intervening if they’d tried to drag the newbies through the fifth floor, the chances of an accidental death were too high.
One side benefit of this particular group coming through was that Mordecai finally got to see what an expert gunner looked like. Brongrim’s fighting style was a skirmishing type that mixed pistol and short sword, and it allowed him to cover his reloading with attacks from his blade. It only worked because he also had his waxed-paper bullets readied in specialized bandoleers. You had to have everything set up for it, it wasn’t the sort of thing you could do on the fly and Mordecai could see where you had to dedicatedly practice certain movement combinations to bring gun and bandoleer into the right alignment without interfering with the rest of your movements. Still, the biggest flaw he could see in guns was the need to reload each shot that way, not that crossbows were any better really. Bows and slings both had much more fluid actions to ready the next piece of ammunition, but they also took more time to master, and neither could be used with only one hand.
Nainvil’s technique was a more straightforward style that focused on a two-handed grip for power, but with a light enough sword that he could free a hand for other uses and still be able to swing. That wasn’t a new variant for Mordecai, but all the styles and techniques of their visitors were being studied by the laganthros. Even if Mordecai knew most of them, there was no good way for him to try and teach every possible style, so he kept to the basics and let them practice and train to find their preferences. Though some of the works Moriko was bringing back included older copies of technique scrolls, maybe he should encourage Betty to study those and start her own school for laganthros.
They were the mundane type, with no learning enchantments or anything, but for the most part he preferred those anyway. Learning what you are actually doing was usually better than just having a combo or technique implanted in your head.
But that was for much later as the wagons were going much slower than Moriko on her own. For now, he made arrangements for everyone to have someplace to sleep for the night, including a private room for Brongrim and Nainvil. No special prizes however, since the group didn’t clear the dungeon. Getting bonuses for clearing everything was going to get harder as they grew, and Mordecai was fine with that. Technically it wasn’t required, he just liked doing it, but it also wasn’t something he wanted to be dealing with constantly.
Now he could turn his attention to something else that Hainako had brought with her. It was a commission and payment for a set of equipment, with some interesting measurements for the armor and cloak. Traxalim was who had sent the commission with her, but according to the note he was relaying the commission from someone else. The work wasn’t particularly hard, but some of the materials were unusual, and the payment included samples of them: Wyvern hide for the armor, Worg fur for the cloak.
The request also wanted a pair of daggers long enough he’d almost call them short swords, except that the specifications for the armor were for someone rather tall and lanky. The instant return enchantments for the daggers were a fairly common design so it was no trouble adding those to each dagger as well.
On top of that was a full gear set complete with an Expanded backpack. It had just about everything one could want for exploring the world and surviving in a range of environments. It was like baby’s-first-adventuring-kit, except most folk couldn’t afford this level of gear when they first stepped into the world of explorers and mercenaries.
It wasn’t enough to keep someone incompetent alive, but it would make the job easier for someone new at it. And all the major components had a rather interesting insignia attached or inscribed in some way: A wolf with three horns. He had no idea what that meant.
But it didn’t matter, the dungeon had gotten some new materials to add to their repertoire, some more raw materials for the laganthros to work with, and a few new small animals that had been easy to carry in a cage this far. It was a fair trade. By the time the group was awake the next morning the dungeon’s part of that trade was complete. And when they had left, it was time to begin on the sixth floor. “Are you ready love?” He asked Kazue.
.
This was a bigger section to do all at once than she’d done before, but after talking it over with her husband Kazue rather liked the idea. They’d gone straight down so far, each floor looping back under the floor above it, but now that they were down this deep there was no reason to not also expand horizontally. The end of the fifth floor was approximately under the end of the first floor, this left them ‘pointing’ back under the mountain. So this time when she gathered energy to push their home complex down, she also pushed ‘out’.
There were a couple of design changes as well. Looping back and forth had made it simplest to bring the two paths back to each other at the end of each floor, and they’d used the stairwells down to keep them isolated. But there was no simple stairway between the fifth and the sixth this time. While the last door for each side could still either lead forward or reroute back up to the start of the sewer path, the forward paths merged into a meandering and slowly widening tunnel.
The tunnel opened up onto a wide, well-lit cavern that was almost meadow-like, excepting only that the ground cover was of a similar makeup to fungal floor five. At the far end of the meadow was a basin that would become a vast lake once filled, and at the shores of this lake-to-be was a large village once more occupied by laganthros. Only this time it was set to be a more well-rounded village, with a clear mix of potential combatants and noncombatants. A well-trod path lead toward this village, complete with a sign saying “Lapin Lake Village”.
At the other end of the basin that was slowly filling with water the lake was split by a large peninsula that ended at the far wall. This signaled the divergence of the paths again, with two underground rivers splitting off from either side of the peninsula. This entire setup meant that at this stage people could decide to switch paths, though they would be obligated by the rules of the new path that they chose.
This did run some risk that someone might try and trick their way this far by taking the non-combat route to conserve their resources before switching, but they would still need to be well-armed to tackle further combat so it seemed unlikely that she or Mordecai would be unable to spot them and call them out on it. And they did intend to offer it up as an option for those who had cleared the fifth floor of the combat route previously and that were in good favor with the dungeon.
The village itself was the first challenge in progressing, as the laganthros were going to be building docks and boats, and the boats could be either sold or rented with a guide who would help pilot them. For the absolute cheapskates, they could even do a short rental to get them to the peninsula, where there were plenty of both normal and mushroom trees to potentially harvest and make their own rafts or boats from.
This was also an optional challenge and reward as some of the vegetation and fungi here were rare or valuable, if you knew how to identify and harvest it.
As for the rest, well, for the moment they had a pair of fairly simple rivers that led to another lake, though this one just had a sandy shore to pull up onto. Filling the floor out was a future endeavor, but the layout was ready. And now their home was even further under the mountain itself.
Kazue had been careful with this by using a trick Mordecai showed her, probing ahead with their mana as she sought to claim more territory. Running into worked stone or large caverns would have felt different and let her pull back before she fully claimed that area. Even if they had a perfect map of the dwarven kingdom, and right now they had no map at all, there was always a chance that something else lived down here.
Well, actually, there had been plenty of that. But those were all simpler underground creatures, and she’d been able to invite them into her dungeon’s ecosystem or as inhabitants. Kazue surveyed her work and was quite pleased with herself. Mordecai approved as well, but she realized then that he’d been partially distracted while she worked on their next level. Before she could ask about what had taken up his attention, his mental voice became excited.
“Kazue! Take a look at this. Focus on the aura of any of your dire rabbits on the first floor. Look at the whole thing.” He seemed to be eagerly anticipating something, so she followed his instructions with curious confusion.
What he wanted her to see quickly became obvious. Some of their mana was flowing into all of their inhabitants, enough to leave her a little hollow feeling given how much they’d just spent, but it was having an interesting effect, one that was most dramatic in the simplest creatures. She could see energy sparkling along the pathways of their brains, the individual components compacting into more efficient forms, then multiplying and creating more complex pathways.
Their auras fluctuated in response to these changes, their very spirits being altered by this physical change until suddenly collapsing into a denser, stronger form of spiritual energy. Every single one of her wonderful creatures now had a spark of true sentience in them, complete with the rise of a soul! A quick check verified it even applied to the clockwork creatures in the library and the spiders on the fifth floor, though not the simpler, reactive vegetative fungi.
This was great! They’d always been able to communicate ideas and concepts to all their inhabitants, but this would allow deeper, language-based communication! Though closer examination revealed that the mental capacity upgrade only barely breached that level, it would in many ways be like talking to a not particularly bright child. On the other hand, the upgrade seemed to affect all but the smartest of her inhabitants to some extent. Which meant Horace and a small percentage of the laganthros.
Hmm. And Mordecai seemed pleased but not particularly surprised. Kazue’s thoughts focused on him with suspicion only to be met with amusement, so her avatar stirred from where they were cuddled on their bed and bit into his shoulder.
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At the Beginning
Adventure Arc - Arc 2
Wilderness Arc - Arc 3
Academy Arc - Arc 4
Previously on Leveling up the World…
 
PERSONAL AWAKENING
​
Orange clouds floated on a purple sky. There had been a time when Dallion would have found such a sight breathtaking, or at the very least remarkable. Now, it was just another day in his realm. Sitting at the top of Onda’s tower, Dallion stared into the distance.
“Hey, old man!” the teen nymph shouted. “You’re messing up the look!”
If there was one person whose arrogance had grown along with Dallion’s it was Onda. The hammer guardian had always seen himself as a genius and, thanks to the Moonstone in the realm, his opinion of himself had grown even further.
“You’ve no idea how much time and skill it took to get it right!”
Funny. Up to today, Dallion hadn’t minded the attitude. In fact, he hadn’t even noticed it.
“I need some assistance,” he said, glancing down.
At the comment, the guardian froze. There was a spark of emotions within him that was quickly subdued.
“She said not to encourage you,” Onda whispered.
“Harp?” Dallion split into a few instances and looked around. “I won’t be doing anything reckless,” he said with a sigh. “It’s forging related.”
“Forging?” The guardian didn’t sound convinced.
“A while back, you said that there are more complicated things than crafting metals. I want to learn magic crafting.”
“Magic crafting?” Onda shivered slightly while saying the magic word.
“Whatever the proper term is. I know you can do it, so—”
“Can’t.” The guardian quickly interrupted. “She said no magic.”
“Seriously?” Dallion grumbled. “Harp!” he shouted in the direction of the harpsisword’s tower.
Other than a few waves, there was no reaction. Harp was determined not to meddle in his development, and that included not helping him with anything magic related, at least for the time being. After what had happened in Lanitol, Dallion would have thought that he’d be given a pass for reasonable requests. Apparently, that wasn’t the case.
In all honesty, his request wasn’t exactly safe or random. The thought of challenging the archduke’s son had made him remember the duel they’d had back in Nerosal, including the origami weapons the noble had used. Creating such a weapon would be very beneficial in more ways than one. For one thing, Dallion was considering upgrading Lux’s home. Having the firebird follow him about like a bladebow with kaleidervisto sights was starting to get bothersome.
“What about enchanting?” Dallion asked. “I’ve already done that many times.”
The nymph shook his head.
“That was temporary.”
Maintaining his calm exterior, Dallion waited for a short while longer, then left his realm. The first thing he felt was a wave of air hitting him in the face. Moments later, his senses returned to normal.
Normally, entering a realm while flying wasn’t the best of ideas, but it didn’t count while on a cloud fort. Initially, Dallion had wanted to avoid the fuss, but when the squad of furies within the cloud had offered to take them, the choice was made for him.
Aware of their emotions, he knew that the offer was extended mostly because of Diroh. While guard furies assisted mages, they rarely went out of their way to catch up to one mid flight. The rumors of her being royalty must have spread.
“You can rest a bit,” the fury told Dallion. He was a seasoned veteran who didn’t have time for all the rank bullshit. “We won’t reach the Academy till tomorrow.”
One additional day. If Dallion had continued flying on his own, he’d have been there by now.
“Any news?” he asked, suppressing a yawn.
“Where do I start? The Azures are gathering armies in the northeast. Mages too. I’m expecting a major clash in a month at most. The new archduke is also positioning her forces. Now that she’s been given the new spot, she can’t afford to mess up.”
It was tempting to crack a smile. It would be nice if Priscord got humiliated in the upcoming battle, but that was unlikely to happen. The emperor had picked her for the position, which meant that he’d back her up with some of his legions. Losing two archdukes in the same area wasn’t something that would look good.
“Lots of crimsons are also there,” the fury continued. “At least we get to enjoy the skies here for a while.”
Dallion nodded. He, too, was going to join them.
“A bunch of rogues formed a new enclave in the west. It’s out of the empire, so no one’s bothering for now. I told some of your lot that it’s a mistake. No one listened.”
“Someone will take care of them.”
The west, at least, was deprived of any presence. Only the Order was slowly spreading in that direction. No wonder the last Star had made his stronghold there.
“There’s been a few skirmishes in the southeast, but nothing major. The Alliance is keeping the Azures in check. Only minor kingdoms are poking about, trying to get themselves noticed by one of the powers.”
“Yes, everyone’s choosing sides.”
That was true and things were only going to get tougher. Settlements, cities, even small countries were quick to ally themselves to one of the three powers. Even before the war began, several of the minor players had made their intentions known. Most had allied to the empire. Now that its position was shaky, they were looking at the other options. It didn’t end with whole settlements either. Guilds and trade organizations had been moving about, going further to the heart of the empire or out of it. Even hunter dens weren’t immune.
Before leaving Lanitol, Dallion had flown by the structure out of a feeling of nostalgia. What he found was an empty lot. He had expected some of the hunters to have gone—there were many dwarves among them. Yet, the building was missing as well. A more optimistic person might have assumed that the hunters had found a way to take their den as they left the city. In reality, it had likely been absorbed by the overseer. Neutrality was a dangerous notion, especially if those proclaiming to be neutral were strong.
“Over a dozen ghost towns have formed on the border,” the fury said. “If they remain too long without a master, the wilderness will take them.”
“That’s how it usually works.”
The fury glanced at Dallion sideways, but didn’t add anything more. It was obvious he wanted to know more about the fury, just as it was obvious that Dallion had no intention of sharing. The moment of calm had given him a while to relax, and now that adrenalin had loosened its grip, less immediate concerns had resurfaced.
Prophecies, he said to himself. So far, he had heard two. The first had come from a nymph sheet acquired years ago. The dwarf hunter who had found it swore that an otherworlder would bring to the end to the world, or at the very least a substantial change. When combined with what Cleric had shared, the worst might have come to pass. It was Dallion who had made it possible for Adzorg to construct his device. If he found the final pieces, he might pop the barrier between worlds like a soap bubble, letting void creatures pour into reality unimpeded.
If there was nothing you could do, the Order wouldn’t have sent you, Gen said from Dallion’s realm. There’s no point in perfect prophecies.
There is if all you need to do is hide, Dallion replied mentally.
If you’re hiding, you’re not doing it very well.
Dallion smiled. His echo had a suitable sense of humor, even if it didn’t help particularly right now.
“What about vortex gleams?” Dallion asked.
“Vortex gleams,” the fury repeated. “There’s talk of a few out east. The crimsons will know more. They don’t tell the rest of us much.”
“Right.” Dallion leaned back in the sea iron mesh that served as a chair. “Wake me up when we get to the Academy. Don’t stop for anything until we get there, not even assists.”
“You’re the mage.”
If the flight was eventful, Dallion never got to learn about it. Over a day, he spent the time sleeping. To a large part, that was to diminish the fatigue that had stacked up in the last six months. More importantly, though, he was hoping to have a Moon dream. With the curse, he hadn’t been getting anything that might help. This time was no different, although it didn’t bring nightmares either. All it brought was a whole lot of blankness: Dallion closed his eyes one moment, then when he opened them again, he was a few hundred feet from the battle mage building. According to the armadil shield, they had been there for hours, but no one had dared wake him up.
How nice of them, Dallion thought and sat up.
The fury on guard was new—far younger than the previous one, tasked with keeping the cloud stable. Everyone else, Diroh included, was gone.
“Where’s everyone?” Dallion cracked his back. Sleeping on war clouds wasn’t as comfortable as people assumed it would be.
“Your novice was escorted into the building, battle apprentice,” the fury replied, using Dallion’s standard title. “All your things were moved to your room as well.”
“And the furies?”
“They were sent out on another cloud. Katka ordered that we leave you to sleep undisturbed, so—”
“I get the picture.”
Dallion cast a spell, rising up from the cloud. Without a word of thanks, he floated straight to Katka’s room on the upper floor of the building, then went inside. The magic symbols on the walls glowed brighter as he passed. Recognizing him as belonging here, they remained in their present state.
The moment he flew in, the room widened, increasing tenfold in size. This wasn’t normal. Katka wasn’t a fan of modifications, preferring to keep things as they were. Ironically, that made many of the Academy mages see her as a snob. In their eyes, illusions weren’t good enough for her, since she resorted to getting the actual physical thing and bringing it here.
The current modification spell had turned the room into a modern Earth corporate office. There was lots of space, full of desks, cheap plants, water coolers and a glass walled meeting room at the far side. Looking closely, Dallion saw four figures gathered there.
Just great, he thought.
The archmage was present along with Katka. The other two were silhouettes made of cloud matter and water, respectively. That meant that the entire Shimmering Circle had gathered to discuss something. Since Dallion had joined, there had been only one similar meeting. Back then, the “woman” Dallion had seen in Gassil’s memory fragment had also been there, even if no one had formally introduced her to him. There were a few more instances in which she had taken shape to discuss something with Katka. As for the last member, he remained completely unknown. Dallion was aware of his existence, but nothing more.
“Dal,” the archmage’s voice echoed throughout the room, as if he were using loudspeakers. “Join us.”
Taking a deep breath, Dallion made his way to the door of the meeting room and went inside. The conference table was large enough to hold eight people. The seat next to Katka was left free, indicating he was supposed to take it.
“This must be important.” Dallion said, using his magic vision in an attempt to see the people behind the constructs. He was able to see the magic threads connecting the forms to invisible portals, but not what lay beyond. “First time I see everyone gathered.”
The sharp look the archmage gave him quickly told Dallion to tone down the humor.
“We heard what happened down south,” the man said. “What are your dealings with the Order?”
“You know I can’t tell you that,” Dallion said calmly. “Moon vows and all that.”
“Convenient.”
“What I can say is that the Azures tried to take out the archduke.” There was a moment’s pause. “And myself.”
“You were targeted?” Katka asked, more surprised than intrigued.
“I guess Grym is still mad at me for last time. They managed to put echoes in a lot of the people at the banquet. Most of them were normies, but there were a few awakened… as well as the local mage.”
“We know,” the archmage said. “Would have been nice to bring one of them alive for questioning.”
“Wasn’t my fault. The archduke absorbed all the evidence. I did manage to get the mage’s robe, though. If there’s anything to be learned, I’ll find it.”
“Such a marvelous ability,” the cloud woman said. “Sometimes you make me envious.”
“That’s not why I called for this,” the archmage hissed. “A messenger arrived from the emperor himself. The vortex gleam that was spotted not too long ago wasn’t the only one. As it turns out, it’s only a drop in the bucket. There have been twenty-seven confirmed sightings, but unlike the last one, the levels are much higher.”
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this story, consider joining my patreon or check out my other stories on redditserials:
The Scuu Paradox (a Space Opera Sci Fi)
The Cassandrian Theory (a Space Opera Sci Fi)
The Impeccable Adventure of the Reluctant Dungeon (Dungeon Core Adventure Comedy)
Uncharted Waters (An Urban Fantasy Detective Noir)

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Currently have a 10'x10' concrete pad, about 6" below ground floor of a slab foundation home. Location: East coast, would be an east facing deck.
Looking to expand current pad to a 12'x20' or 14'x22' deck and add a covered pergola (untied to structure) over the entire area. Planning to pour footers for pergola and deck for expansion areas.
Should I remove the slab or can it be laid on top? Is it workable to lay GC lumber over the pad with composite decking on top given minimal floor clearance? Will moisture/ground contact become an issue over time despite it being covered? If the minimal clearance is an issue, should I go with pavers instead of composite deck? Any recommendations for materials/brands, looking for longevity/quality in a middle road price point if that's doable?
Thank you community experts, looking forward to your plans, advice, suggestions, comments, and any videos or pics you can share of a similar project.

I have 6 projects I need done and am looking to get a quote from 5-6 GC's. They all do it differently and I am trying to get apples to apples. I don't care how much they profit, I just want to make sure everything is apples to apples. My projects are below (not that it matters) too much:
Removing patio to make a Driveway: (currently 12x15) Remove the fence where necessary. Remove 38" of concrete and dirt. Haul away all debris. Install 5" of reinforced concrete.
Remodeling Upstairs Bathroom: (6x9) Remove everything and install walkin shower, toilet, vanity, new flooring
Installing Half-Bath to Main Room: (4X6) with painting, reflooring.
Removing main Room closet: Remove and haul away the 2 closets in the 1st floor living room and dining room. Patch and paint
Adding dry-wall to basement and add door to close of bedroom (6X8 SF of drywall excluding the door)
Recentering door frame on Second floor (including drywall, installing door, and repainting)

My thought processes is to completely seal the perimeter incase of moisture, etc.

When you're rich enough, you get perks you can only dream of. Literally. But somehow, my paradise turned into hell.
Have you ever had a dream so amazing, you wished you could relive it? Explore it? Relish it? Well, when you're rich enough, you don't have to wish. It's a reality thanks to dream banks. You may have heard of them and their pricy services, which include recording, saving, and projecting dreams.
For example, if you'd like a dream recorded, you can book one of their luxurious suites for the night, where the dream techs will fit you with a special helmet and leave you to rest. The next morning, they'll replay the recorded dream for you via the helmet and ask if you want to shell out the extra bucks to save it. If you don't, they'll delete it and you can pay to book for another time to try again.
If you do decide to save it, you must select an item within the dream that will act as the exit key. (This will come in handy during projections.) While still wearing the helmet, you must touch the item, and the dream techs will label those electric signals as the key.
Afterwards, everything is saved under your name, and you can now relive your dream at any time by booking a suite for three, five, or eight hours. Unlike recordings, during projections, you don't have to wait for sleep to come. After you enjoy a snack of your choice, the helmet is fitted and you're immediately transported to your dream, where you have free will and can enjoy it at your leisure. And if you ever need to leave early, this is when you touch the key, which will shut down the helmet right away.
In my case, the key is the stegosaurus leather rug I have hanging on the wall of my throne room. I never have a reason to touch it otherwise, making it a perfect key. I've also never had to touch it. Experiencing life as an all-powerful, worshipped being who lives on my own planet and hunts dinosaurs in my spare time, I relished my dream to the last second.
Yes, the fees are exorbitant, but at the time, I felt it was worth it. The techs were skilled, the system was sleek, and the dreams were private. Each could only be unlocked by the unique brainwaves of the dreamer.
Or so I thought.
My literal nightmare began when I booked a five-hour projection on a rainy Friday afternoon. After taking a sip of champagne to wash down the cranberry brie bites, I settled into the cool silk sheets with a smile. My usual dream tech smiled back as she fastened my helmet, and the last thing I heard was her wishing me pleasant dreams before I was plunged into darkness.
I waited for the split-second adjustment from reality to the dream world, and my confusion grew when I didn't find myself on my throne surrounded by fawning gods and goddesses.
Instead, I found myself in the middle of an endless street. Alone. There were no cars, no life, not even wind. Towering street lamps lined the sidewalk as far as I could see, arcing over the road and tinting everything an eerie red. Behind them, identical buildings stood side by side, silent, their dark, narrow windows hollow.
My pulse spiking, I whipped around. The other direction was just as endless. Uneasy confusion prickled beneath my skin. This had to be someone else's dream. The techs must have made a mistake. I didn't know how it was possible, but there was no other explanation.
My unease piqued as my situation sank in. I was in a stranger's dream and I didn't know the key. I was stuck here until my five hours ran out. Or until the techs realized their mistake. I was ready to rip them a new one once I was out, but until then, I had no choice but to wait.
I studied my surroundings with a frown before I walked over to the curb and sat down, and that was when I noticed I couldn't feel anything. I also noticed I was naked. It didn't matter. There was no one here, and none of this was real anyway.
Time passed, and I tried to distract myself from my nettled offense by humming, but no sound came out. Sitting up, I took a deep breath and screamed. Not even a squeak was heard. I slapped my hand against the ground. Nothing. This place was like a black hole of the senses.
Sighing, I lay down on my back and stared at the red light above me, wondering if I could fall asleep in a dream. I tried, but the more I wished to escape this silent, crimson prison, the more it seemed to come into focus. Soon, the utter lack of noise and movement grew from slightly unnerving to completely intolerable.
There was no way I could wait. I'd go insane. I had to get out of here. I had to find the key.
Jumping up, I ran to the nearest building and wrenched open the door, and a pitch black void greeted me. I gasped, and gasped again as it felt like my very breath was being suctioned out of my lungs. Panicking, silent wheezes rattled in my chest as I struggled to yank myself out of the vacuum, jerking my limbs and bucking my body until I toppled over backwards on the sidewalk.
Gulping in fitful breaths, I scrambled to my feet and ran down the road without looking back, my wide eyes scanning the horizon for salvation. I just wanted out of here, but the hellish path stretched on forever, making me feel like I was running in place as every identical building and street lamp mocked me. Even my silent stomping and mute panting served to draw insanity closer.
And then, a person showed up.
There, in the distance.
With my hope spurred, I raced towards them, desperate. I didn't care who they were. I needed to break this monotony.
As I got closer, hope morphed to confusion, and then to despair. The person was me. It was a mirror, propped up across the entire street.
Sweat-soaked, I slowed down to a jog before I stopped right in front of my reflection. It was me alright, naked, exhausted, and frustrated. But the eyes, something was off about the eyes. With an anxious frown, I stepped closer, staring into them, and they stared back …
… until they glanced behind me.
I gasped and jumped away, and so did my reflection … before it glanced over my shoulder again.
A chill trickled down my spine. My reflection had nothing behind it but the empty street, so I gulped and turned around, and my mouth fell open in a silent scream as a lovecraftian behemoth barrelled its way towards me. With its slick shell gleaming red beneath the lights, it slammed down one spiny tentacle after the other as its five mouths bared their dripping, concentric fangs.
Drenched in undiluted horror, tremors gripped my body as I stumbled away until my back was against the mirror. I knew death was a foolproof key in a dream, but I didn't know if this creature would kill me right away or leave me to suffer in agony until my five hours were up.
With it only inches away, I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed myself into the mirror, and my stomach flipped as I fell backwards. I opened my mouth to gasp, but there was nothing for me to draw in. Floating in an airless void, I flailed and thrashed, my wild eyes scanning the darkness for answers as I began to spin around.
Although death would free me, one of my greatest fears was suffocating. On one of my weightless rotations, a red, glass cube passed me by, and I grabbed it, hoping it was a breathing device. I brought it close to my face, and I gawked at what it held within.
Me.
Surrounded by identical buildings and red street lamps while a lovecraftian behemoth tore me apart.
Horrified, I threw the cube as far as I could and increased my efforts to escape this void. Yet all the flailing and thrashing was for naught as the darkness revealed no end. My eyesight began to go red as my lungs spasmed, and I clawed at my throat as my pulse stuttered in my chest.
The red kept growing and growing until it engulfed my entire vision, and I gave up. There was nothing to do but face my fears and die. With my straining heart lumbering, I let myself go limp as I stared at the red and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
I wasn't dying.
In fact, I could breathe just fine.
Frowning, I opened my eyes, and intense unease spread through my core. Above me, a red moon had taken up the entire sky, each one of its craters crystal clear, like eyes watching me. I turned my head away, and I realized I was in a park, laying down on the grass. Sitting up, I blinked in surprise at the pond right beside me, its opaque water reflecting the moon's red light. Ducks were swimming in a circle across its surface, their movements smooth with nary a splash.
Trees surrounded us, so dense I couldn't tell when one began and the other ended. It was mind-numbingly quiet here as well, and I still couldn't feel anything or make any noise, but at least the ducks were moving. This place seemed more tolerable than the last, and I was willing to wait out my five hours here. I hoped at least an hour had passed already, but with dreams, one never knew. All I knew was that I was too exhausted to search for the key. And too scared. I didn't know whose dream this was, but they had to be masochistic if they saved this nightmare.
Curling up beside the pond, I worked on calming myself down as I watched the ducks swim in their systematic circle over and over and over. I tried counting the rotations the way one would count sheep, but that still didn't lull me to sleep. I wished I'd chosen the three-hour projection, but at least I hadn't chosen the eight-hour one.
Distorted circus music crackled around me and I jolted up, my heart ricocheting in my chest. There was finally sound, but the last thing I wanted to hear was a cliche horror movie soundtrack. Gulping, I looked around. The music was coming from the trees, and my stomach dropped when I spied a shadow behind one of them. Then another. And another. They emerged into the crimson moonlight, and my blood turned to ice.
Clowns.
I whipped around, trembling to the rhythm of my frantic pulse. They were surrounding me. Dozens of them. As classic as any clown could be. Colorful clothes, big shoes, silly hair, exaggerated makeup. I wasn't scared of clowns, as long as they were where they belonged. And they didn't belong here, staring at me with big, empty eyes and yellow, toothy grins.
I tried to convince myself that they weren't dangerous since they didn't have weapons and didn't seem monstrous, but when they took a step closer in unison, I jumped back, nearly falling into the pond. The ducks remained oblivious, still swimming in their circle. The distorted circus music got louder, and my hair stood on end when I saw the grass ripple in front of each clown. They were sending something my way through the ground.
Panicking, I jumped into the pond, and I screamed as I sank right in. There was no bottom. There was no water either. The pond was filled with red, translucent spheres, each the size of a tennis ball. Still able to breathe, I began swimming through the spheres with clumsy breast strokes, just hoping I could end up as far away from the clowns as possible.
After swimming for what felt like enough time, I tried to swim up, until I realized I had no idea which direction I was facing. Remember a trick for those stuck in avalanches, I spat, but my glob of saliva just hovered in front of me. Before panic could set in, I noticed what looked like an office desk floating amidst the spheres in the distance. After blinking a few times to make sure it was really there, I swam towards it, desperate for any change in my situation.
It was an office desk, a wooden one with carved borders and locked drawers. Tucked beneath it was a stool, and the moment I pulled it out and set it under my ass, an office replaced the red spheres.
I grunted as gravity returned, and I looked around in bewilderment at the cluttered bookshelves and grimy floors. Dust was floating everywhere, highlighted by the red light filtering in through the blinds behind me. I jumped as a clock hanging on the wall chimed. Its glass was too dirty for me to tell the time, but I was glad I could hear. I coughed at the dust. And I could make noise. I dusted my hands. And I could feel. I could even smell, which I now wished I couldn't as I wrinkled my nose at the faint stench of rot.
After failing to read the spines of some of the books on the shelves, I studied the shadowy corners of the room. A slack-jawed skeleton hung in the far end, and a faded poster with anatomical diagrams curled off a cupboard. This had to be a doctor's office. Was the creator of this dream a doctor?
A silhouette slid in front of the frosted glass door, and I gulped as the knob began to turn. A hand reached in, gripping the edge one finger at a time, and my heart dropped as I knew this horror cliche was only going to be followed by another. Having no time to think, I slid off the stool and crouched beneath the desk, my hand over my mouth as cobwebs clung to me.
Praying spiders wouldn't swarm me, I peeked through a small slit in the wood, and I froze when an emaciated nurse walked in the room. Layers upon layers of blood coated her scrubs, so much so that I couldn't even tell what color they originally were. She had no shoes. No feet either. Just ankle stubs, and my stomach turned as I heard bone clunk against the tiles.
A surgical mask covered her face, as bloodstained as her scrubs, and grimy lab goggles obscured her eyes. I was grateful, because judging by the pus leaking out of her scabbed, balding scalp, I didn't want to know what her face looked like. The closer she got, the stronger the stench of rot became, and I struggled to keep myself from retching.
She stopped halfway into the room, and I gawked at her hands. They were transforming. Her fingers elongating into razor-edged blades. She then began to hunch over, and I cringed as her spine cracked and popped until she was as bent as a candy cane, her face staring at her pelvis.
As if that wasn't unsettling enough, her head creaked as it spun around 180 degrees, now facing the front, upside down. Right after, her arms shot to the ground, and I watched with increasing dread as she bent them at the elbows and wrists so they flanked her head like distorted T-Rex arms.
She spread her fingers out and took a few more steps towards me, and I held my breath, hoping she couldn't hear my rabid heart or smell my fear. Her ankle bones clicked and clacked against the tiles as she made her way around the desk, and I cowered as my frantic eyes searched for a weapon. I found none, but I did spy a brass button beside my head.
With her legs now an arms distance away, I had nothing to lose as I jammed my thumb into the button. The back of the desk flung open, and I scrambled to my feet and dashed out from my hiding place, screaming in response to the nurse screeching behind me. Bursting through the door, I held up my fists and began punching like a maniac in fearful anticipation of a horde of nurses swarming me.
Except I was no longer in a hospital. I was in an outdoor parking lot. Alone. And judging by the roiling red clouds, a storm was brewing. After a second to collect my bearings, I dove into the closest car, thankful it was unlocked. The moment I slammed the door shut, lightning blinded me as thunder cracked and the downpour began. Sighing in relief, I tried to shake away my adrenaline, but the bloodshot eyes in my rearview mirror reignited my panic.
Before I could react, a belt snapped over my neck, pinning my head back against the headrest. With a frightened wheeze, I clawed at the leather, and I flinched as hot, heavy breath wafted across my ear. Gagging at the putrid smell, I reached over, desperate to scratch my strangler's face or poke their eyes out.
I felt their greasy hair and tried to pull it, but my fingers refused to hold on. I tried again and again, using my nails for purchase, but the strands just kept slipping out of my weak grip. Shifting focus, I tried to claw at their eyes, but it felt as though I was moving through molasses as my hand slid down their face. Once I felt a wet, bulbous eye, I tried to scratch it, but I didn't have enough strength to do anything damage.
My frustration clashed with my terror and I tried to punch them, but my arm swung back in slow motion and merely prodded a stubbly cheek. Tears welled in my eyes as I writhed and gasped, my strangler's laugh adding insult to injury. Despite knowing death will set me free, fear and self-preservation rummaged through my mind, searching for a solution. And they found one.
Hoping I had enough grip and energy, I reached down and found the reclining lever. Wrapping my fingers around it tight, I jerked it up and heaved my body back, and I gulped in a deep breath as I fell backwards, the belt now slack. Not at all prepared to face my attacker, I slipped out from beneath the belt, flung open the door, and zoomed out into the storm.
Sheets of rain obscured my vision, but not enough for me to see that the keys were left inside a red convertible. After making sure no one was hiding in the back, I jumped in, started the engine, and took off, the wheels squealing through the puddles. A sole street curled down a hill, and I took it, adrenaline pumping in waves through my quivering body.
This rush was a confusing mixture of exhilaration and apprehension. I wanted out, but I wasn't giving up. I made it this far, and I was going to survive every cliche this masochist dreamed up. Sharks? Snakes? Zombies? Bring it on. And afterwards, I was going to detail every single trial and tribulation I went through as I sued the dream bank for all the trauma they caused me.
Up ahead, the road curved, and I gasped as it ended in a cliff. I slammed the breaks, but they didn't do anything. Breaking out in a cold sweat, I slammed them again and again as I yanked the hand break as far as it would go. The car refused to slow down, and I cursed myself for not anticipating this cliche. In a move of desperation, I swerved, but it wasn't enough as the car careened over the edge and took me with it.
My heart hung in my throat as I hung on to the steering wheel, my knuckles white, my screams frozen in my lungs, the raindrops like needles. An endless body of water spread below me, and I knew sharks were my next challenge. I screwed my eyes shut as I awaited the inevitable plunge …
… and I gasped as the car crashed against the surface.
I lurched forward, and I cried out as I bashed my forehead against the wheel. Groaning, I leaned back, my ears ringing as I looked around, disoriented. I was still in the convertible, but we were right side up, having crashed into the concrete wall of an indoor garage. Blood trickled down my face and I reached up, only to feel around my head in shock.
I was wearing the helmet.
Why was it in the dream?
Or had I made it out?
I looked down. I wasn't naked. My pyjamas were plastered to my sweat-soaked skin. I was out. I looked around at the broken glass and mangled metal in confusion. But if I was finally out, why was I in a car and not between silk sheets?
I removed the helmet, and a yell from behind made me jump. I turned to see one of the dream techs running towards me. Was she always that skinny? And why were her scrubs red instead of the usual blue?
She made it to me, panting as she took the helmet out of my hands, and I wrinkled my nose at her unpleasant breath. She said I'd had a nightmare and began sleepwalking, and I'd left the dream bank and stole a car from their underground parking before she triggered a wake-up signal in the helmet, which made me crash.
I stared at her, not believing what I was hearing. I told her I'd booked a projection, not a recording, and she gave me a concerned frown and claimed the opposite. Anger replaced my confusion, and I called her a liar and accused them of misconduct, and she reminded me that dreams can only be unlocked by the dreamer.
Furious, I cursed at her as I tried to get out of the car, demanding to see my file. She was quick to tell me not to move in case I made my injuries worse as she pulled out her phone and said she was going to call an ambulance.
While I sat there and waited, fuming, I glimpsed my reflection in the dangling rearview mirror. Unease rippled beneath my skin and I sat up, grabbing the mirror and angling it to show my neck.
There was an angry red mark across it.
As though I was recently strangled.
Trembling, I tilted the mirror up.
Cobwebs. Stuck in my hair.
Dumbstruck in utter stupefaction, I scanned the rest of my body. My pyjamas were dirty and there was black under my fingernails, but the rest of my examination was cut short by tinny circus music. A chill jolted down my spine and I whipped my head to face the dream tech. That was her ringtone. She smiled as she answered the call, and I drew back at her yellow, toothy grin.
What was going on? I was out of the dream, I knew I was. Had everything been real? What had the dream bank done with me? Done to me?
Ambulance sirens wailed as they entered the underground parking, and the flashing red lights reflecting off the walls triggered my recent traumas. With terror-fueled adrenaline flooding my veins, I jerked my legs free of the wreck, jumped out of the car, and booked it, the dream tech's yells merging with the screeching sirens behind me.
SR

The kingdom management rules from the kingmaker module seem very complex, and at least while there isn't foundry support for managing the kingdom, I'd like to find something simpler.
Is there a system for managing a basic stronghold that players could sink their teeth into? Or at least have some progression. I'd like to run a little dwarf fortress style sandbox game where players can improve their fortress home as they level.

Short version: she keeps her cluttered boxes in the work station upstairs and it’s such an unpleasant sight!
Long version (I do apologize but this was the catalyst): Today I had a go at the one flatmate I share a bathroom with. We were out of toilet roll for 1.5 days and I was working from home, so I hoped she'd get it. I did order some online with my grocery shop which were delivered today.
Anyways, this morning before my delivery I noticed that there was a full roll in the toilet. Then it disappeared following my run. I put 4 rolls in the toilet and messaged her asking that we purchase this on a rotational basis. I was met with a message saying that she always buys loo roll and she always cleans the bathroom.
I decided to go directly and speak with her to clarify what she meant. Given at this point I was abit heated. I was confused as to why she said she always buys loo roll when our other flatmate downstairs had a loo roll subscription that supplied us with enough since September. Neither one of us have ever had to buy loo roll since then. With regards to cleaning, this girl is delusional. She only cleans when her partner visits. Her room is a tip, you cannot see the floor, her section of the bathroom is filled with mold inc the toothbrush and toothpaste. She leaves her razor near the shower which falls often and when I try to put it back it's filled with black mold. I highlighted this to her and explained it's difficult for me to take her argument about her being clean given no other part of her living is clean.
She also flooded the bathroom a few months ago which she argued couldn't have been her fault she only takes 2 minute long showers.
I then highlighted that she keeps tons of cardboard boxes in the communal area and I want them moved. They are at least 40 boxes just sitting here outside of my room. Granted I thought she didn't have much space in her room, I didn't complain. However since she's so concerned about cleanliness I have requested she removes them within a month. If not done, I will send a reminder and after I will personally put them in her room or in a black bag and put it outside.

So it looks like I'm going to be continuing with this after all.
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Memory Transcription Subject: Kalva, Kratotl Retired Predator Disease expert
Date [Standardized Human Time] : 27th September 2136
ERROR: NEURAL CONNECTIONS PARTIALLY DAMAGED. MEMORY TRANSCRIPTION PARTIALLY CORRUPTED. CONTINUE? [Y/N]
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My wings ache.
A lot of my body has been aching ever since some years ago.
But I suppose thats what {Corrupted Data} a scholar for much of your life.
I was not a particularly active person. Sure I did fly but flying anywhere in Venlil Prime was incredibly hard even for the strongest of all Kratotl living. Not that I would be flying here any time soon.
The slightly elevated slopes of Riverford would have been promising to me but I had been of course too busy studying on Predator Disease to do much about flying.
I've been an expert on the subject for many decades now. Helping identify patterns of non-sapient predators whenever they popped, providing advice for new Exterminator pods and assisting in trials of predator-diseased peoples across the belt. I've kept a impressive track record ove{Corrupted Data}.
I yawned and stretched my wings as I stepped out from my favourite cafe onto the nearly empty street. It was a fairly isolated place that has seen plenty of Riverfords elderly visitors and scholars throughout its long life, myself included. And personally I would rather keep its isolated nature like that.
I walked over to where my car was and opened its door. Some would say tha{Corrupted Data} but I liked this model and I would be rather be long in Inatala's embrace before I even change cars now.
As I entered the car, I heard something drop onto the floor of the car, and quite close to me too. I craned my aching neck over to the right car seat to see a weird cylindrical object of some kind. Curiously, I picked it up. From visual observation, this was a cylinder with some metal bits on one end with a hole and a rough exterior, presumably for grabbing-
​
[TRANSCRIPTION ENDS. REASON: INSTANT DEATH OF TRANSCRIPTION SUBJECT. CAUSE OF DEATH: POINT-BLANK EXPLOSION AND MULTIPLE MAJOR SHARPNEL WOUNDS. POST-MORTEM WOUNDS: 3RD DEGREE BURNS FROM IGNITED ELECTRONICS OF VEHICLE]
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Memory Transcription Subject: Tavr, Venlil Exterminator
Date [Standardised Human Time]: 10th November 2136
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I removed the helmet and placed it on the public bathroom's counter, checking the fur on top of my head. It was a soft pastel white with rather nice curls which I've been trying to keep on whenever I was on duty. As usual, it got ruffled by the helmet so I decided to put some water on my wool to see whether it would retain the shape.
Letting my fingers plap and flatten the wool into the shape I wanted it to be, I was reminded of my pod-on-duty eating Second Meal. None of us had our breakfast and Valim had bought us all hefty meals as a treat to make up for our dour moods.
Ah well, I suppose I can take my time with this and surprise them all with my new wool-style.
A toilet behind me flushed as whoever it was began to clean themselves up. I paid not much mind to the person in the cubicle as I bent down and applied more water to my wool.
When I looked up back into the mirror, I saw the following things:
Myself.
A Yotul in all black.
A set of white, sharp, predatory teeth in the center of their chest.
And a wire tied in a circle in one of their hands.
I turned around, feeling the grip of the Yotul on my fire-proof suit and the circular wire go around my neck as he violently threw me into the cubicle that he was hiding.
My jaw collided with the toilet, sending a shock of pain through my jaw. I did not have time to recover from this as the Yotul pulled the circular wire and my throat and began to strangle me.
I tried to get up, but the Yotul placed his weight against me to the point where I couldn't leverage my body to get an angle to push him off, neither could I call for anyone to help me from this predator-diseased primitive as his wire continued to tighten against my throat.
I squirmed around, flailing my limbs as I tried to grab at the Yotul to no avail, my vision starting to blur as I kept flailing. I barely even registered the cubicle door closing when the Yotul lifted me up and pulled me towards him.
I was getting desperate now. I was gonna blackout now and die to this Yotul here and now in this cubicle. I was hoping for anything, for my pod-members to come in and here the struggle, for anything!!
Then I remembered the knife I had in my boot. I had used it only once during my entire service to the Guild but it had saved before. It can save me again now!!
Desperately, I forced myself against the wire noose, constricting me even further than it already had and I swore I felt my eyes bulge out. But it did give me the angle needed to get to the concealed sheath in the boot and-
There was a firm hand on my wrist.
"Not today, you fuck!" said a grizzled, phlegmy voice.
And with that sentence, the angle that I was in was kept fixed as the Yotul pushed his foot against my back, now sealing my fate.
"I already faced that trick once before. Fool me once, but I'll make sure you'll never fool me twice!" he snarled at me as my vision went black.
[TRANSCRIPTION ENDS. REASON: EXPIRATION OF ALL BIOLOGICAL PROCESSES. CAUSE: PROLONGED STRANGULATION. POST-MORTEM WOUNDS: DEEP CUTS AND GASHES TO SUBJECTS THROAT]
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[Next]

I'm a relatively new. Dwarf fortress player. My last fortress had been taken down by a cave crocodile so I decided to start a new fortress based entirely around the monster hunting in order, To learn The battle system.
After a lot of searching I finally found my cavern, So I sent my militia Captain down to protect the miners. And a good thing too because they were ambushed by some fairly weak enemies. Still, I was so proud of my militia commander. She dispatched them so easily. So I went to check and see how she was feeling about her victory.
But instead I saw
That she had felt only fear in combat.
That she felt distressed by the trauma that this killing had caused.
Her thought was along the lines of
"Death is horrible and it is all around us."
It was then that I realized I was too benevolent to run this fortress, For in that moment I felt emptiness.
I created this fortress for the purpose of these dwarfs to hunt monsters and slay them Make trinkets and jewelry out of their bones. But Could I really lead them into such paril without considering their feelings? When my militia commander slayed her 1st enemy she felt not but empathy For the beast. How could I ask her to lead these dwarves in battle When all it would bring to Her was pain and suffering.
No not in good conscience I could not.
El Dorado was right: it’s tough to be a god

I certainly hope this gets read and someone here can come up with something better than my only plan. I'll start at the beginning.
As a kid and even into adulthood, I've always had a fascination with secret rooms behind hidden doors. You know, the kind where you can pull on a specific book and the shelf moves to reveal a dimly lit cozy sancutary that is filled with treasures for only you and your closest friends. Movies and a vivid imagination had me making my own secret alcoves in the back of my closet where I could escape reality and do some reading in a cramped space made entirely of pillows and blankets with only a flashlight to read by. That was the closest I could get to having my dream room.
So imagine my excitement when at the age of 34 my husband and finally bought our first house.
And that house came with a hidden room.
When I bought the house I had not actually had the chance to go through it properly first. Only seeing about 15 pictures of it and speaking with a realtor over the phone. I was moving about 6 hours away for work and my husband could do his job from anywhere. The town we were moving to was very family friendly with a good school district and I was looking forward to the idea of settling down and hopefully having kids soon.
The description of the house noted it was 3 to 4 bedrooms and 2 baths.
3 to 4 bedrooms seemed strange to me so I texted my realtor and asked what that meant. She replied that the people who built the house years ago had included a hidden room within one of the bedrooms but didn't give any more information than that.
She couldn't tell me where it was inside the house and "good luck finding it."
So I bought the house, new challenge and a childhood dream about to come true. Even my husband was thrilled by the idea. Quoting everything from Young Frankenstein to The Addams Family.
We ended up living in the house for almost two years before I found the hidden room. The lightbulb in the ceiling fan of the nursery I was preparing for our unborn daughter had gone out. When I removed the light cover to replace the bulb I noticed a switch next to the bulb.
Now my husband and I spent almost every evening becoming private detectives just trying to find this hidden room, to no avail. We made many discoveries that ultimately led to home improvement projects and finally decided we would find it when we find it and stop searching for it.
Heart fluttering with hope and long endured anticipation, I flicked the switch.
A sound came from inside the closet. Walking over to it I saw that the far right wall had separated from the back wall. I pulled it open and was stunned to find a narrow brick set of stairs leading downward. My husband was away on his annual guys fishing trip for a few more days so I braved the stairs myself, only pausing to get a flashlight.
Now I'm thinking everything from secret hidden treasure, to old tomes, family secrets, possibly even a dungeon. Anything besides what I was actually greeted with.
A stark white clean room with a single lime green couch pushed against the back wall and a Tiffany lamp standing to the side of it. I turned on the lamp and had a look around the room. It was directly below the nursery room and exactly the same size. Nothing on the walls. Nothing on the concrete floor. Just a brick staircase to a hideous couch. I sat down for a minute, thinking of what to do with this hidden chamber and how disappointed my husband is going to be when he finds out its not filled with torture devices.
Back upstairs I closed the passage door, changed the lighbulb and went to the kitchen to make a sandwich for lunch. I found turkey and Swiss cheese in the fridge and stared at it confused.
"That's weird" I said aloud. I knew I bought Blackforest ham and cheddar when I went to the store only about an hour ago. I didn't think about it for long and chalked it up to baby brain. Turkey and Swiss would do just fine, anyway. The next day folding laundry I found a shirt in the hamper that I had never seen before. It was a maternity top but I couldn't remember ever buying it. Baby brain again, I assumed.
My husband came home the following day...in a blue pick-up. Not a black one. I froze in the driveway and knew this couldn't be baby brain. So I did the sensible thing and asked my husband.
"You got a new truck while you were fishing?" I said, a little too high pitched. He kissed my cheek and gave me an odd look, then glanced back at his truck.
"Um, no? Same truck as always. You feeling okay?" He immediately put his hands to my cheeks and started checking me for a fever. "I'm fine. Maybe I'm just tried." I replied, trying to shake the confusion off. The worry was still prying at my mind and I wondered if I was actually going crazy. Then remembered the hidden room.
"Hey, do you wanna see what I found?"
He knew instantly what I was talking about and followed me to the nursery with a goofy grin on his face. I showed him the switch in the ceiling fan and watched as he pulled the door open to the staircase. I followed him into the hidden room and watched as he plopped onto the green couch.
"Well this was a let down" he said before amending "still cool though. We could set this room up for when our daughter gets old enough. She can do whatever she wants with it."
Back upstairs in the nursery we both paused as we closed the passage door. The room was no longer pink, it was blue. We exchanged looks which, long story short, led us to my doctor, which led us to an ultrasound, which confirmed I was having a baby boy. Not a girl.
I don't remember us sleeping much that night. And the next few days that followed were strange. Dish sets were patterned differently. The spices where in the cabinet to the left, not the right. Our entire bedroom was arranged differently and the couch was now leather. My Hundai that I remembered having was now a Honda. Both of us felt like we were going crazy yet somehow learning to live with the changes since well, we kind of liked the new dishes and couch and car. And even though we had gotten used to the idea of having a girl, we were just happy to be having a baby at all.
Then this morning happened.
My due date was coming up fast and my mother had sent a hand-made monkey stuffed animal that she crocheted herself. I gathered a few more items, some children's books and a few throw blankets into a box and took them down to the hidden room. I set up the couch to look cozy, staked some books next to the lamp and placed the monkey on top of them. As I rested my hands on my belly, I couldn't wait for our son to come of age and turn this space into his own sancutary. Clicking off the Tiffany lamp I walked back up the stairs and closed the door behind me.
The nursery was gone. In its place was a queen sized bed with tables on either side and a small lamp on each table. A picture of a landscape hanging above the bed and sheer white curtains over the windows. I gasped and felt at my stomach only to realize that I was no longer pregnant.
I tried to call my husband but the number connected me to some lady. Panic was setting in and my mind has been racing. I haven't been able to cry. Everything is different. There are still signs of my husband's taste around the house though. I reached out to my mother whose number had thankfully remained the same and asked her for my husband's number.
"Oh honey, Mike died last year on his fishing trip with the boys..." I couldn't say anything as she offered to come stay with me for a few days. I'm afraid if she comes here, she might disappear too so I told her I was fine.
I think that room has sent me to another reality. Like a portal or something. I don't know what to do. I just want my husband back. I want to have our baby. I'm going to keep going to the hidden room, keep filling it with things for my child until I'm pregnant again and Mike returns. I don't know what else I could possibly do.

My friends son was recently diagnosed with hypospadias and she shared this to her Facebook, I love Reddit so with her permission—I thought I would see if you all could help with your personal experiences with this to help guide her in the right direction.
“Our 8 week old has hypospadias and is uncircumcised. My husband is uncircumcised but I was always told it was due to him having lung issues at birth and being too sick to circumcise at the time so when our son was born and we were informed he had hypospadias, his mom said my husband has this as well. He hasn’t had any issues.
Our pediatrician set him up a urologist appointment so I went knowing that it was only to learn about our sons particular issue and surgery wouldn’t be necessary.
I was absolutely floored when the doctor pointed out that he has 2 holes!! I hadn’t heard of this and neither had my husband. Unless I pointed it out, you’d never see it! His urethra is under the tip but then also he has this second hole a little further down. I could tell most people just go in, hear what he says and go with it so when I had lots of questions the doctor was surprised. My concerns were from reading others experiences and having a friend who’s 8 year old has had 6 years of his life be absolute hell due to multiple surgeries. I Asked about having to catheterize him every time we changed his diaper- he said not at all and that he’d have a stick in his penis for a week and then get it out and that’s it but that still is so scary to me. I asked about chances of another surgery and he said his case is moderate but he sees this all day everyday and that it’s a slim chance he’ll need any other procedure. I asked about chances it will leak- he says it’s not likely. I asked what would happen if we just let it be and he said he’ll always have trouble peeing and he’ll never be able to stand. He also said we won’t know for sure how this could affect fertility .
My husband was in agreement for no surgery but now that we know about the second hole, I am questioning it and he’s saying he should get it. The doctor also says he has a mild bend, is that chordee? He didn’t say that word but reading it here I wondered if that’s what it is. I said I don’t want him circumcised and the doctor says he has an excess amount of skin on top and it needs to be removed and also used for the repair.
This is all so upsetting. I don’t want to do this to my son but also am feeling guilty because I don’t want it to affect his quality of life and him be upset with us when he’s older that we didn’t do it and then him wanting to go through a procedure that would be terrible at that time. This feels like a lose-lose situation.
I would so much appreciation real experience with 2 holes for yourself or your child and any other factual education I can receive.
Thank you for your help in advance.”
Thank you for reading!!