Shroom Dungeon - Homecoming | BigCloset TopShelf

Chapter 1

“Keep your shield up!” Petruvio shouted as his charge failed to properly block the latest attack by the dungeon's monster. The young Marsen stumbled back and Petruvio tensed for a moment. Ready to jump into the fight. It was not necessary. Marsen caught his footing and returned to a proper stance this time. Petruvio knew that his charge did better with the carrot than the stick. “That's it. Keep him busy and let him tire himself out.”

Of course, Marsen wasn't the only one Petruvio had to watch out for. “Trying to flirt him dead, Florea? He isn't even real. Stop standing there and hit him with your daggers. The back is wide open. Leana, fall back and chug a potion.”

The young woman wasn't having it. “I am fine. It is just a scratch.” To underline her words, she stabbed with her spear. Petruvio could see her flinch at the pain. It was more than a scratch.

“I said, get back and heal. Now!” If it had only been this one dungeon-generated man, Petruvio would have let her be. But he already heard heavy footsteps coming closer. “Mind your surroundings!”

Quiska - the third female companion of Marsen - flinched at the reminder but still managed to get a good shot in. Her bow was heavy and her frequency of shots was low. Petruvio had argued against it, but Quiska wasn't budging. At least, she was the least involved in the fight and - prompted by him - did a quick check of her surroundings.

“Incoming!” She shouted a few seconds later. “I think it is a minotaur.”

And the chaos was perfect. Marsen got distracted and let his guard slip. Leaving the human-like monster an opening to exploit. The sudden step forward made Florea miss her strike and stumble. Leana fumbled with the potion. Suddenly reminded of why it was important to mind her health. And instead of helping finish one opponent off, Quiska was unsure which enemy to target.

This was a shitshow. Not that Petruvio would admit it out loud. Marsen was the son of a wealthy merchant who had grown up romanticizing adventurers. Petruvio wasn't sure what Marsen wanted to prove, but to fill out a party, he hired three scantily clad women. All with good looks. Granted, Marsen had sprung a pretty copper to give them all enchantments that gave the revealing outfits more protection than he had with his full plate armor. Still, it was clear Marsen was a spoiled brat who had more money than brains. At least he had the good idea to hire Petruvio as a mentor and guide.

With a sigh, Petruvio pushed off the wall. Ignoring all the little pains his body gave off. He was getting old, but that was okay. It was the reason why he was the mentor and these whelps his charges. Lifting his morning star, Petruvio rushed in. Just in time to strike the minotaur and save the day.

Chapter 2

“I think we weren't that bad,” Leana mused as they sat around a campfire the same evening. She looked at her companions who ate cheese and jerky. Just like herself. “We beat the dungeon.”

“Teach had to step in three times,” Florea was quick to point out before Petruvio could do so. “We could have been better.”

“It isn't as bad,” the old adventurer remarked and immediately had four pairs of eyes on him. “This was, after all, your first real dungeon. Not one of the newly formed baby dungeons or one artificially created by summoners to train adventurers. Things were bound to go wrong. The important step is to learn from your mistakes.”

In moments of weakness, he might even admit that the group was slowly getting the hang of it. They had come far since Marsen had hired Petruvio nearly a year ago. Learning the ropes of being an adventurer can be hard. It was normal for newbies to enter a dungeon just to get party wipes again and again. Thankfully resurrection magic was possible, due to fairies. That was part of the learning. Under Petruvio's guide, his charges had only died once so far. And he had let it happen just so they could learn what was at stake. An asshole move, but a necessary one.

“Now that we have a real dungeon under our belt, which dungeon will we tackle next?” Florea searched for the reactions of the group. Each one contemplating what to say. “My vote would be for Raven Keep.”

Petruvio was about to speak up when Quiska let out a squeal. “Ghost? No, thank you. Can we please avoid haunted dungeons?”

Dungeons came all in different shapes and sizes. A broad umbrella term that could mean a lot of things. A cursed keep haunted by the bloodshed of centuries or a warren of Kasutke Crawlers that multiplied unnaturally fast. Undead Lich that just wouldn't stay dead for long or underground caverns that housed monstrosities. Dungeons were numerous and could keep an army of adventurers busy.

“You are also ill-equipped to deal with specters,” Petruvio added as their voice of reason. Sure, he could dictate where they would go next, but determining a target dungeon fit for their means was just as important a skill for an adventurer as was wielding a weapon. “You would at least need a cleric to add to the group.”

“I vote for the Givens Farm!” Florea's eyes were wide with excitement. “I heard the abyssal hedgehogs are surprisingly cute.”

“And deadly,” the old Mentor added quickly. It was good to burst unrealistic bubbles early. “It's for seasoned adventurers. Besides, it was cleared recently.”

“What about that dungeon those adventurers in the last tavern mentioned?” It was quite unlike Marsen to actually ask instead of deciding for the group. Maybe he was learning after all. Petruvio had done his best to file down the rough edges of the young man. “Sure, they hadn't mentioned a lot about it, but they were so excited. What was it called?”

Leana scrunched her face in an effort to remember. Quite cute. If only Petruvio was two decades younger. Then the young adventurer remembered. “I think Sinea called it-”

Time slowed down for Petruvio. He knew Sinea very well. In fact, he once taught her for a few years. Sinea was bad news. She rolled with two others. Debtar and Conway. Capable adventurers, but they also got the nickname The Terrible Trio. For trouble usually followed. He heard they had run the past year with a new member, but said member must have wizened up as they were down to three again. His charges must have run into them the one evening he turned in early. And there was only one dungeon they were this excited about.

“No Shroom Dungeon,” Petruvio grumbled.

“That's the one.” Leana looked a bit put off by her mentor's quick shotdown of the idea. “Why not? They made it sound like it would be fun.”

“What else did The Terrible Trio tell you?” Petruvio didn't mean to be this gruff, but the Trio really did cause a lot of trouble. They weren't even here and they had given Petruvio a headache.

“Not much. They were sparse on details. Citing something about rules and secrets.” Marsen narrowed his eyes and Petruvio knew that look. Like a dog that had spotted a bone and now wouldn't give it up. “They said every real adventurer should visit there once.”

“You aren't ready yet,” Petruvio proclaimed and hoped that it was enough.

It was not. It was Quiska who spoke up. Normally the quiet one of the group. “But they said it was for beginners too. It can't be that hard.”

“I will kill them. These bastards- “Petruvio broke off and took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. “Look. I can't tell you too much about Shroom Dungeon. No, it is not about how experienced you are. Shroom Dungeon is not a dungeon you conquer or finish. You go there to fail. It will break you in a way you have not thought possible. There you will learn things about yourself that you might not like. I visited there once. Once! And I vowed never to return.”

“Then don't.” Marsen puffed his chest up as if he had to prove his manliness. Probably for the sake of his female companions. Play-acting the macho role to woe the ladies. Something Petruvio hadn't been able to blunten yet. “We can go in there without you. It should be fine. They said it would be. Maybe it is you who fears it too much. Too afraid to return. But I say we tackle this Shroom Dungeon.”

A chorus of agreement answered Marsen. Of course, they would. Marsen was the one footing the bills. And like fools, Florea, Leana, and Quiska would follow him.

Another groan escaped Petruvio. Yes, this might mean his cushy job - for an adventurer at least - might end. But this group was still young and so green behind the ears. He couldn't let them walk into Shroom Dungeon without guidance. “Fine,” he practically spat out. “Don't say I didn't warn you. Tomorrow, we will make for Shroom Dungeon. Prepare yourself, for it will be a challenge unlike any other. And hear me now. In Shroom Dungeon you will follow all my orders. Else, I will drag you out myself.”

Quiet acknowledgements followed and Petruvio's frown deepened. His last attempt to scare them off had failed. Now, he had to return to the one dungeon he swore would have seen the last of him. But it appeared Shroom Dungeon wasn't finished with him.

Chapter 3

It was disgusting. The sun was shining and the temperatures were mild. No clouds in the sky. The perfect day. Except Petruvio wanted the opposite. A cold and cloudy day with icy drizzle and the world drenched in grey. That would have been fitting for his return. But no, the world was cheerful. Petruvio hated it.

Shroom Dungeon was as popular as ever. Adventurers passed them by coming from there or rushing past the little group in order to arrive sooner. Many looked happy, which only made Petruvio's charges more curios. “Soon,” became his mantra whenever a question arose.

At last, there was one question he had to answer. With big eyes, Leana pointed at a mighty oak. “Is that a fairy tree?” Colorful ribbons dangled from every branch and twig. The original green canopy could barely be seen. “I've never seen a fairy tree this rich in gifts.”

“Moline - the local fairy - is a busy one. Lots of visitors.” The oak looked more like a willow tree with painted branches and leaves. The last time Petruvio came to Shroom Dungeon - about thirty-one years ago - there had still been a few empty spots. And when he left, checking the tree was the furthest from his mind. “Who has the ribbons? Go ahead, Florea. Do the honors.”

While Petruvio didn't particularly like fairies, he was glad they were there. Some could wield resurrection magic and they offered their services near dungeons. Binding the souls of adventurers before they headed in. It took the bite of failing or even wiping inside a dungeon. Dying was painful, but thanks to the fairies, it wasn't the end.

Moline was just as chatty as Petruvio remembered. “Oh, my. Are you all new here?”

“They are,” he grumbled and pointed at the others. “I have been here before.”

“Hmm,” the fairy commented. Then flew slowly a few times around Petruvio. “I don't remember you.”

Petruvio couldn't hide an annoyed look. Was Moline always this inquisitive? “Was only here once. Came decades ago. Can you bind us now?”

“He is a grumpy one, isn't he?” When all the others nodded, but didn't dare speak up, Moline gave a sigh. “Alright. Let's get you all set up.”

Binding their souls was done quick and easy. At once, Petruvio shooed his charges towards the dungeon. Lest they continue chatting with that flying annoyance. But before they entered this legendary dungeon, Petruvio held them back.

“Alright. Some ground rules. First, you do everything I say. No questioning my orders or second guessing. That is important.” All four of his charges recognized his tone of voice. It was the no-nonsense one he always used before a dungeon run. “In a moment we step inside. You will not run off or attack anyone you see. And I mean anyone or anything. Your weapons stay sheathed. Is that clear? Good. Once we are in, I can tell you more. Now through those curtains. Do not open all at once and do not let sunlight slip in.”

They all looked a little confused but followed his orders. Marsen pushed in first. Because of course, he did. As the group's tank, it was his job. But Petruvio had the feeling that Marsen would have pushed in first no matter which role he had.

“It's dark in here. I can't see anything.”

“Just keep going,” Petruvio instructed while herding the rest of them in. Then it was his turn. Seconds passed. He had sworn he would never return. Vowed it. Yet here he was. “Just for a few days,” he whispered to himself. “In and out.” Then, he stepped through.

There were four heavy curtains. All dyed black. Until he stepped through the last one, he was drenched in darkness. Then, there was light. The glow of hundreds of bioluminescent mushrooms dotting the floor, walls, and ceiling of the dungeon. It shone softly on four young adventurers who stood there with their mouths open in wonderment.

“All eyes on me!” Petruvio ordered. “Sightseeing comes later.”

Once he had their attention - it took a moment - he started to explain. “Alright. Shroom Dungeon has some unofficial rules that everyone follows. For good reason. The first one, you may have already noticed. No talking about Shroom Dungeon to those who have not visited themselves. Now that you are here, we can talk.”

Petruvio took a moment to study their faces. Yes, in a way, Marsen had blackmailed him to come. But he was still their mentor and teacher. All four looked serious and attentive.

“What is paramount to know is that Shroom Dungeon is staffed by volunteers. No matter who or what you see, they are sentient beings. Most likely, humans. But other species have been known to visit. This means, that under no circumstances is the use of force allowed. Especially deadly force. Understood?”

All four nodded, but Marsen was quick to speak up. “If we can't use our weapons, how do we fight in this dungeon? Do we roll dice?”

“Uhh, I know I should have packed my twenty-sided die,” Florea remarked jokingly but was quick to look to Petruvio for guidance again.

“Shroom Dungeon is special. There won't be normal fighting. Instead, most challenges are one on one. Anything non-harmful is allowed. Mages usually have a few of those spells, but that doesn't apply to you. For you, a little wrestling is okay. Might lead to other things, but I am getting ahead of myself. The mock fight ends if one taps out. Which can be done immediately. Just give your opponent a little bit of show.”

“I know we are here to fail. That much you made clear,” Marsen said slowly. “But I ain't gonna throw the towel to make it easier for them. I am a fighter.”

The glances as his female companions clued Petruvio in that this was mostly for show to impress them. His mentor nearly sighed. “Your loss. Anyway, you don't have to accept a challenge. There is always diplomacy and bartering. If that fails, well we can get into more detail once we have a fight on our hands. Let's head in.”

Petruvio steered for a large opening to the side of the tunnel. Clearly, it was artificial and between mushrooms, they could spy bricks. Petruvio turned around and walked backward. “First stop is the Impish Armory. There we stash our weapons, armor, and gear. And remember. Everyone is a volunteer. Do not embarrass me.”

He stepped through the door and stopped there. Looking for the reactions of his students. Marsen was first. His hand went for his hilt but stopped well before reaching it. His eyes darted around and a slight leer appeared on his face. Typical horn dog behavior. His reaction was understandable. The Impish Armory was filled with beautiful women who mimicked Succubus and other demons of lust. This included generous female proportions, reddish skin, horns, wings, and tails.

Florea was next and her eyes grew wide. “Those are actors?” she murmured while glancing at the imps and then down on her own armor. What Marsen's companions wore was skimpy, but the volunteers of Shroom Dungeon had them beat in showing skin. Some lounged around only in lingerie.

Quiska stifled any comment of her own, but she raised her eyebrow at the display before her. It was evident she found the view unusual too, but she was calm enough to suspect an explanation soon. Leana actually had to gently push the members of her group forward as they clogged the entrance. “Wow,” she exclaimed as her view was finally unobstructed. “That can't be just makeup and prosthesis. It's got to be illusion magic too.”

“Welcome to the Impish Armory!” The warm purr of a greeting belonged to the tallest of the Imps. Her purple eyes shone with mischief, but she acted surprisingly formal. “My name is Alune. Headmistress of this establishment. And you are-” Then she noticed how scantily clad Florea, Leana, and Quiska were. “Are you coming or going?”

“They are new here,” Petruvio explained while pushing off the wall and walking past Alune to a bench. With a dismissive wave, he told her: “Give them the usual spiel, will ya? Saves me the trouble of explaining everything.”

Alune wasn't as easy to order around. She fixed Petruvio with a glare. “And you? Are you new here too? I don't think I have seen you before. Maybe if I have your name?”

Petruvio gave a humorless smile. “Doubt it. Name's Petruvio and last time I walked into Shroom Dungeon, I doubt you had finished puberty.”

For a moment, Alune looked as if she was to break the first rule of Shroom Dungeon. To not do harm. Then she turned to the rest of the group. “Is he always this grumpy?”

They all nodded, except for Leana who quipped: ”Today he has a good day. Could be worse.”

A little lost, Alune looked to Petruvio again and quickly chalked him up as a lost cause. Gathering herself, she became all smiles again and started her showmanship. “Right. Newcomers. You must have a lot of questions. First of all, what is Shroom Dungeon and why is it special? That requires a tiny bit of a history lesson. Some time ago, a cave was found with mushrooms harboring strange magic and properties. It enabled unfathomable transformations for anyone who ate them. However, it was quickly found out that these transformations are temporary, for sun- and moonlight reverses the changes.”

“The curtains,” Florea murmured and was rewarded by a nod from Alune.

“Yes, the mushrooms and their magic don't react well with natural light. As you can see, I appear to be a Succubus. But I am not. Indeed, I am human. Just as you are. Over time, these mushrooms were bred to facilitate specific transformations. There are plenty of possible changes and in time, people created this dungeon as a means to enjoy them.”

“We can become monsters?” Leana asked. She looked surprisingly excited at the prospect.

“Of course. But the severity of your transformation is up to you. So, not to worry.” Then Alune took a moment to transform from friendly hostess to stern teacher. “But to fully enjoy Shroom Dungeon, there are rules to follow.”

“Teach already told us to do no harm,” Florea confirmed. “I am glad he gave us the warning.”

“Of course, who wants to harm beauties like you,” Marsen added smoothly. “I could envision better things to do.”

Alune wasn't even phased by Marsen's open flirting. The attendees gave a customary giggle, but to Petruvio it didn't sound sincere. They probably heard it a lot and truth be told, if they wanted nonstop sex, they would have volunteered for a position deeper inside the dungeon.

“Ah, yes. Sex. You might find plenty of visitors and volunteers interested in it,” Alune assured him. “But here comes rule number two in play. Everything here is voluntary. As such, consent is key. Never forget it. If someone removes their consent, you have to disengage whatever it is you do with them. Of course, you may remove your consent too. Be aware that there are areas within this dungeon that deal with involuntary and forced acts. Even here, consent is key. There will be safewords and rules to ensure a safe practice.”

Petruvio couldn't help it. “As their mentor, I'll be sure to keep them on a leash.”

Alune didn't miss a beat. Deadpan, she asked: “Would you like a few collars and leashes as starting gear?”

For a few seconds, Petruvio and the Mistress of the Impish Armory looked at each other. Neither betrayed any emotion. At last, Petruvio folded. Not because he couldn't stare down a young thing like Alune, but because he had places to be. Or rather, rush through. He didn't want to spend a second longer in Shroom Dungeon than he had to.

“How about we get on with it?” He turned around to his charges. “Strip. We ain't got all day.”

“My, my. Someone is eager,” Alune purred as Petruvio started to discard his armor and clothes. His charges were a little too baffled to act. “He has the right of it. It is a tradition that one enters Shroom Dungeon only with materials found inside it. Don't worry, your gear will be safe. I mean, you three gals might already fit right in, but this is Shroom Dungeon. They wouldn't fit for long.”

Once naked, Petruvio addressed his charges again. “You heard her. Strip. Let this be another lesson. Sometimes, in a dungeon, you have to make do with what you have. Or not. I remember once, an acid trap splashed me good. Had to strip out of my armor as fast as I could or the acid would have eaten through it and into me. Yeah, I had to finish the dungeon nearly bare-naked. Until we found a few musty clothes for me as loot. Still, better than eaten up alive by acid. Nasty way to go.”

All his charges looked away in embarrassment as they saw him naked standing before them. But Petruvio caught that Florea and Quiska did do so a little late. Catching a good and appreciative glance at him. It nearly made him cringe. Both were just so damn young. They could be his daughters if he had any. And that was the crux of it. Being an adventurer and delver of Shroom Dungeon was both for young people. Not old people like him. Why was he back here? Of course, pride wouldn't let him chicken out now.

“Please follow me,” Alune purred as she sashayed to the locker area. “Don't worry. We will keep all your items safe.”

“For one week,” Petruvio harrumphed. “There is a time limit on Shroom Dungeon. You can stay longer, but all your items will be forfeited after a week. We shouldn't cut it too close. So, when I say we head back, I don't want to hear any complaints.”

Alune's tail swished around like a whip and she stared daggers at Petruvio. “I was just about to explain that.” Maybe to spite Petruvio, she stated the necessaries in extra fine detail. Showing him off that she could do her job better than he could. Alune demonstrated how the lockers functioned and handed out armbands that were linked to the lockers. Not only did these armbands show if it was day or night, but they also had a little red line that indicated how much time was left of the one week they had.

“Of course, we won't send you in bare naked.” Alune clapped twice and the other attendees brought bundles of thin clothes out. They appeared to be made out of paper. White - with a slight tinge of yellow - and slightly translucent. Revealing filigree root-like structures. “These garments are for you.”

Bemused, the group started to dress in the provided outfit. Being very careful as the material appeared to be very fragile and easily tearable. As they quickly found out.

The only one who stayed naked was Petruvio. “Ah, I won't bother with these. Won't last the day anyway. But I take a map. Come on. Time to delve deeper than you should have.”

As Petruvio herded them out, Alune followed them to the entrance. “Any questions? No? I guess I covered everything.”

“Everything, but one crucial detail.” Petruvio gave her a knowing grin. “But I got it, Luni. See you in a few days.”

They were down the tunnel thirty meters when Alune burst out of the armory. “Wait! Who told you that nickname?”

Petruvio knew he had fucked up, but decided to play it cool. Just waving at her without turning around and making sure that his charges marched on.

Chapter 4

They only stopped about a hundred meters down the tunnel. Here, it split in quite a few ways. Petruvio had stoically ignored all questions and did so too as he unfolded the map.

“Alright.” Petruvio looked around until they all ceased pestering him with questions and paid attention. “As you heard, this dungeon is famous among adventurers for its unique transformations. Here, you can become a facsimile of many of the humanoid monsters. But also many of the normal humanoid races and a few they - plainly speaking - made up. Most of the dungeon is a labyrinthine web of tunnels, treasures, and volunteers who act as foes. The loot there is random. As are the rewards.”

Marsen looked confused and spoke up before Petruvio could continue. “Isn't loot and rewards the same?”

Petruvio gave him a strict stare. “That you even ask this speaks of your inexperience. Remember the training dungeons I dragged you through? There was no loot, but the lessons you learned there were a rich reward, weren't they? With Shoom Dungeon you also have to remember that all items made out of mushrooms - and that includes nearly everything - won't survive being taken outside. When we return to the Impish Armory, we will return them all.”

The disappointed look of the four made Petruvio chuckle. “Oh, don't be so gloomy. I told you, Shroom Dungeon is about learning more about your true self. And having fun while at it. That is the true reward. Speaking of. Within Shroom Dungeon, there are districts. Each is dedicated to a theme. Of grouped transformations that are alike or of similar experience. It is best to plan one's route beforehand. No, we won't be able to see everything. Hence, most adventurers return often. Once or twice a year. Take a look at this map and let's decide together.”

All four studied the map. It was clear that they couldn't get much out of it. “What is the most popular district?” Florea asked. Quiska had quite a different question:” Why is it drawn like something from a five-year-old.”

Petruvio chuckled, but then pointed at the map. “Let me answer your question first, Quiska. Shroom Dungeon is quite large and the districts are connected on purpose with a labyrinthine mess of tunnels. It would take a bigger map to draw them all. Hence, the tunnel network is simply suggested on the map. As for the districts, some are well-established and have their own maps. Others are a little more fluid and remodel regularly. As for popularity? By necessity, the Harem's Sprawl is quite popular as they serve as resting and sleeping spots. That's why there are quite a few scattered throughout the dungeon. For regular districts, The Barnyard is very popular. It is large, offers a lot of activities, and is in a central location.”

Marsen scratched his head. It was clear he had a question and glanced at his mentor a few times. The young man only spoke up as Petruvio had enough and gestured for him to speak up. “On the risk of sounding stupid, The Barnyard doesn't really sound like it would house monsters. Or to offer a typical dungeon experience.”

“No, that is quite the astute observation.” Moments like these reminded Petruvio why he hadn't lost complete faith in the potential of this youth. “The first transformations they bred were not as flashy. Those mages and druids started slow. Add a few animal traits here and there. Hence The Barnyard. Some argue it is the oldest official district. As for monstrous- Last time I was here, instead of chicken, they had harpies in their coop.”

“We can become harpies?” Leana's eyes were huge with excitement. “Does that mean we could fly?”

“Well. yes. Mind you, this is underground and there isn't much space to do so.” Maybe it was the years he had spent as a mentor, but Petruvio couldn't resist a teaching moment. “Previously I said that sometimes the mages and druids got a little creative and didn't always adhere to real monster types. Well, the harpies are such a case. As you know, Harpies are a one-gender species. All female. However, all transformations here work for both genders. Hence they had to envision a male version of a harpie.”

“The is a village down here?” As typical, Quiska raised an eyebrow. The little differentiator of hers between an honest question and a rhetorical one. “People live down here? Well, there are the volunteers. Enough to fill a village? There must be a lot of them.”

“A few hundred at any given time,” Petruvio confirmed with a few sage nods. “And a few hundred more scholars. But they don't live in The Village. Below the dungeon, there is a city for them. Off-limits to visitors. The Village is boring. You don't wanna head there. It is mostly for shopping, stealing, sleeping, and a few rogue-centric mini-games.”

“Stealing?” Florea looked put off. “I understand getting loot in a dungeon. But what is there to steal? Maybe from other visitors? That doesn't sound like a good time.”

“That's why I said it is boring. No, it is not stealing from other visitors. The village has a certain appeal to rogues as most of the district is for them. You see, some rogues are tempted to use their skills in real towns and cities. How easy would it be to rob the manor of a nobleman? What challenge would it pose to break out of prison or help break out someone? A safe place to practice pickpocketing without running afoul of authorities. The village is made for this type of exploration.”

“Well, none of us is a rogue. Maybe there are better districts for us,” Florea slowly concluded. In turn, Petruvio mentally sighed in relief. Of all the districts, The Village was the last one he wanted to visit. When Florea asked the next question, Petruvio had to ask her to repeat it, as his mind had wandered. “I was just wondering about The Flower Garden. What can we expect there?”

“Oh, I can't help with that one,” Petruvio had to admit. “It was added after I left Shroom Dungeon. But I can speculate. Before I left there was talk about adding a Dryad-based forest district. But trees are hard to grow or replicate down here. Hence it never got to anything. But maybe they scaled it down a bit. If so, you can expect the obvious Dryad transformation and plant-based loot. Maybe a bit of elven trinkets too. The same goes for The Factory. Added after my time. Both are probably not very large yet as they are new.”

All four studied the map again and probably drew their own conclusions about the other districts based on the name. The next one to speak up was Marsen and he did so with a shake of a head. “Tribal Lands? As in Orcs and Goblins? Who would want to be a Greenskin?”

Petruvio's reaction was swift and painful. A step forward and a slap on the back of Marsen's head. “What did I say about using slurs? Don't be speciesist.” Having calmed down a little, Petruvio remembered that he had not just one student, but four. “The Tribal Lands being open is actually a rarity. You see, now and then nomads from the great plains arrive and try to give us a taste of their culture. With Shroom Dungeon giving them a unique opportunity to give a view into their lifestyles and practices.” Then he ended with a pointed look at Marsen. “And trying to correct some unfair stereotypes based on rumor, slander, and hate.”

“I didn't know they had culture,” Marsen said before his brain caught up. But as it did, he quickly stepped back to avoid another slap by Petruvio and raised his hands to calm his teacher down. “I mean, I am sure they have, if you say so. What I meant is that none of my previous educators had mentioned anything in that regard.”

An angry stare bore into Marsen for ten uncomfortable seconds, before Petruvio suddenly turned all cheerful. “I guess we have our first destination. We have an education black spot to fill. Everyone buckle up, we are going to the Tribal Lands. Believe me, it is worth exploring. I have so much to teach you there. Just you wait. Goblin and Orc culture is so underrated by other species. But once you get to know them, you will understand.”

The four students gave each other worried looks, but Petruvio herded them towards the tunnel leading to the Tribal Lands like a proud mother duck her young.

Chapter 5

“Goblins aren't just good at survival.” For a good solid five minutes, Petruvio had lectured them about Orcs. Now, he switched to their smaller compatriots. “Granted, they thrive in environments other species have trouble surviving. But even more formidable is their ability to develop crafts based on available materials. If you have ever seen the furniture woven out of reeds in the marshes of Avalin, you'd see Goblins in a new light.”

“I actually have,” Marsen spoke up while following his mentor like a puppy. The boy was full of misconceptions based on rumors and stereotypes. Petruvio blamed the boy's parents for the bad education. Marsen was many things, but his mentor valued one quality of the boy above anything else. He was willing to learn things contrary to the limited education he had received. “So delicate and complex, yet sturdy. I didn't know it was made by Goblins. That's the detail the traveling merchant failed to mention.”

“Probably because the Goblins’ bad reputation would have impacted his sales. That ain't helping to change that.” Petruvio suddenly stopped at the mouth of a side-tunnel. “Ready for your first bit of loot from Shroom Dungeon?”

“Yes, sir!” Florea was quick to speak up. The girls had been silent while Petruvio had monologued his lectures. Now they appeared a little more interested. They followed their mentor into the side tunnel that soon ended in a dead end. But their reward was waiting. “That's a big chest. How do we handle it?”

It was a valid question in every other dungeon. Marsen's group was very damage-focused. They lacked the magical support of a mage, the healing of a cleric or druid, and the trap detection of a rogue. Even Florea - who wielded daggers as her main weapons - lacked the training to call herself one. In a few more months, Petruvio would recommend that the group split for a while to get individual training to specialize them further. For now, he had taught them all the very basics of trap detection and disarmament. It explained their current hesitation to open this chest. In regular dungeons, they took turns doing so.

“This is Shroom Dungeon,” Petruvio reminded them. Waving them closer to the chest. Judging them close enough, Petruvio smoothly stepped to the side and opened the chest at the same time. A pink cloud of fine powder erupted and covered his students from head to toe. “No one checks for traps, because even though there are some, they are all not harmful. But not effectless.”

While their mentor chuckled at their misfortune, the four students tried to wipe off the fine powder from their skin. It was an endeavor in futility as it clung to their skin. Florea even shook herself like a wet dog, but only the dust on her clothes fell off. The rest slowly vanished as it was gradually absorbed into their skin.

Petruvio earned a few well-deserved glares, but no one spoke up about it. They had learned over time that Petruvio often preferred practical experience over theoretical knowledge. As the last of the powder was absorbed, the four looked themselves over.

Quiska was the first to speak up and she did so in a carefully maintained neutral tone. “You said most magic here will be transformative. I don't see any obvious changes.”

Petruvio could, but he had experience with Shroom Dungeon. The changes were very subtle. Madsen shaves every morning, but the slight stubble that had grown since then had vanished. His face also looked slightly rounder and softer. The mentor guessed Marsen might have lost an inch or two. Those inches lost appeared to be added to the shaggy brown hair the young fighter maintained.

Quiska herself failed to notice how her arms had gained a little more bulk and definition. The oversight was understandable as the ambidextrous archer was quite muscular to begin with. There was a hint of added roughness to her face, but no definite feature that betrayed the goal of the transformation.

The archer might have gained an inch by the powder, but it didn't help her to catch up to the tall and lanky Leana. The spear wielder might have grown half a hand span. But she always towered over everyone - even Petruvio - and the change wasn't as noticeable.

The smallish Florea now nearly was as tall as Marsen. As the nimble fighter had grown as much as he had shrunk. If the paper garments hadn't been so unflattering, others might have noticed that Florea's bosom wasn't as generous anymore.

“I let you in on a little secret. Well, not a secret. Alune should have told you, but failed to reveal this critical detail about Shroom Dungeon.” Petruvio waited until he could see their impatience clearly showed. “They never managed to breed out the original transformation the mushrooms possessed. All the various variations they managed can only occur after the main transformation has run its course.”

Leana wasn't easily fooled. “And the original transformation is- ?”

Petruvio gave her a mischievous grin. “Well, I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise. Just remember, whatever change there might be happening, it is temporary. If it gets too much for your liking, we can simply leave Shroom Dungeon and revert to normal. But if you are curious, you can always eat some mushrooms and find out sooner.” He kneeled and pulled out a few from the chest's loot. “I think these are Meowshrooms. And a few Scallyshrooms. Uhh, Jellyshrooms. Those are rare. Don't worry about what they do. As I said, until the initial transformation is done, they do all the same.”

Not all were as excited as Florea who held up the Meowshrooms. “Look, they have tiny cat ears and a tail. Isn't that cute? Probably some kind of cat transformation? Can I keep them for after the initial transformation?”

A future catboy in the making, but Petruvio didn't voice his thoughts as he really didn't want to spoil the surprise. “Don't look at me,” Petruvio said while raising his arms. “It is the group's loot and you four suffered for it. How you split and consume your loot is up to you.”

After a short debate, Florea won the right to keep the few Meowshrooms and all further ones they would find. Petruvio hoped they weren't Nyashroom in disguise. The offshoot and the original were hard to tell apart.

“Let's see what else you four have won.” Petruvio pulled out a chest harness that had more belts and buckles than armor. This piece might fit into the sex dungeon of an aristocrat. Or Shroom Dungeon. There wasn't much difference. It came with a matching codpiece. “Any takers?”

“Isn't that one for a man?” Leana asked and gave a glance at Marsen who was quick to shake his head.

“No? I'll hold on to it for now. Let me know if anyone changes their mind.” Holding on didn't mean wearing. Petruvio rather stayed naked. “Next we have-” He pulled out a tunic and for a moment, even Petruvio was confused. A modest garment in Shroom Dungeon? That was new. Then he saw the slogan on the front and gave a chuckle. “My zodiac sign is Slut. Well, I know who gets that one. Marsen, catch.”

Marsen looked aghast. “Why me?”

“Why you? Let's approach it with logic, shall we?” Petruvio didn't wait for any protest to be voiced. “I witnessed you having sex with all of the girls. But they hadn't - to my knowledge - had sex with each other. This means you have overall three times more sex than the median of Florea, Leana, and Quiska. Or if we would create a median for the whole group, you would be above it, and they are all below. Any questions?”

One had to give kudos to Marsen. He knew when he lost. Grumbling a “fine”, he tried to strip out of the paper-like shirt he wore. Of course, it ripped, and Marsen had to wear the tunic to cover himself up. It fit. Mostly. “I think this isn't meant for me. See? It's loose up top.”

Petruvio gave an overly theatrical sage nod. “Ah, yes. It is because you never eat enough. Maybe if you eat a few more mushrooms, you bulk up a bit and fill it out more.”

“No, I meant this tunic is clearly designed for a woman.”

“Ahh!” Petruvio held up the harness. “Not to worry. Wear this. It should fix that problem.”

The muted chuckles of the girls clued Marsen in that he was losing ground. “How is this dungeon supposed to be fun again?”

“I am having fun!” Petruvio stood up and closed the chest. “That wasn't much loot. Let's hunt for more, right girls? Unless you had enough, Marsen, and want to leave?”

Like a stubborn child, Marsen wandered off and the rest followed. The next three chests were without traps but also loot. Petruvio explained that those closest to the entrance often got looted first. They would find more inside.

The next worthwhile chest was for Florea to rifle through. Probably to squirrel away all the Meowshrooms she found. After a few mushrooms of different kinds, she produced the first decent loot and was promptly confused by it. “What the hell? Who wears something like that?”

“That is a high heel,” Petruvio pointed out and then motioned for Florea to hand the pair of strappy sandals over. “Mostly rogues wear these. And yes, only in Shroom Dungeon. As a show of dexterity. Though a few wear them because it gives sexy legs.”

“Whoever invented these must have lost their marbles.” Leana leaned closer to examine these so-called high heels. “These can't be practical.”

“High heels are based on an orcish design. Now, hold on. Let me explain.” Petruvio made sure he had the attention of all, before falling into another lecture. “The precursor invented by Orcs didn't have that high of a heel. As you might know, many orc tribes are living nomadically. A lot of them ride all kinds of animals. To find better purchase in stirrups and even the means to stand up safely while riding. Of course, some humans observed it, found it useful, and stole the idea. Claiming it was theirs. A few of these modified riding boots made it into Shroom Dungeon and soon competition broke out about who could walk in the highest of heels. Resulting in towering heights like these ones I am holding up.”

“You might want to give them a try, Florea.” Leana had a teasing look to her. Gently patting Florea on the head. “You might actually be able to look into my eyes for once without straining your neck.”

Florea pushed her friend’s hand off her head. “And break my ankles instead? Hard pass. I doubt anyone in our group can manage these.”

“Well, it takes a little bit of practice, but it isn't too hard once you get the hang out of it.” Four doubtful pairs of eyes looked at Petruvio. With a chuckle, he pulled them on. Thankfully, they were some of the enchanted items in the dungeon that adjusted their size to the wearer. It only took seconds for Petruvio to find his sea legs again and strut through the tunnel without trouble. “As I said, not that hard.”

Florea put her hands on her hips and watched Petruvio walk. Instead of bashing on the high heels further, she addressed another topic. “Teach, I thought you were a fighter. Not a rogue.”

“I am full of surprises.” Petruvio gave her a wink and then motioned for Florea to loot the rest. But besides a satchel of fake leather, there wasn't anything else to find.

The group continued and soon found the dungeon changing around them. Brickwork appeared and displaced the rough-hewn stone. Here and there, they found scattered furniture. Chairs, benches, and daybeds. Plenty of cozy pillows invited them for a rest.

“Is this the Harem's Sprawl?” Marsen asked.

“One of them,” Petruvio confirmed. “It's a bit early for a break, but it means we are on the right path towards the Tribal Lands. According to the map, we-”

“INTRUDERS!”

The sudden shout made the four young members of the group instinctively close ranks and grab for their weapons. Only to find air. Which was good, but Petruvio still was proud that their instincts had them react this fast.

A sexy vixen entered the large room they had stopped in. Mostly human, she had purple fox ears and not just one purple fox tail, but two. She wore a robe with so many cutouts that it might count more as lingerie.

“I recognize these heels!” The vixen shouted while pointing at Petruvio's feet. “I just hid them over yonder. How dare you to loot my loot. Making my job that much harder. Punishment! I declare I need justice. One of you has to make up for it or face me in battle!”

Petruvio rolled his eyes at the theatrics while his students looked at him for guidance. “What do we do?” Marsen whispered.

Petruvio turned. “Well, one of you has to fight her, of course. Should be easy. Just remember. No biting. No hair pulling.”

“No tail pulling!”

“No tail pulling,” Petruvio repeated and gave a nod at the vixen. “Nothing harmful. A mock fight.”

“If it is a mock fight, who wins?” Quiska wanted to know. “Isn't a mock fight predetermined?”

Petruvio was about to answer when the vixen let go of another round of taunts. “My, oh my. How green these whelps are behind their ears. Hiding behind their mother wolf? Don't tell me. This must be the first time in my dungeon. How about it, old timer? You don't look too bad. Wanna show them how it is done? I wouldn't mind tangling with a silver fox like you.”

“Silver fox? I am not that old. I still have mostly my natural hair color. Can't you see?” Petruvio turned to his students for help. “Right?” Their rather nervous nodding didn't fill him with confidence. “Alright. You want to tango with me? Fine. Students, take a good look because she won't be up for a round two.”

With sure steps, Petruvio strutted into the room. Naked safe for his high heels. The vixen grinned confidently.

A minute later, that confidence was shattered and she yielded her fight. Her plea to do so was just hard to hear in between the bouts of laughter. Petruvio left her on the floor to catch her breath.

“And that's twenty-eight places where the human body is ticklish. Well, at least she is. Any questions?”

His students looked horrified.

“Remind me to never piss him off,” Marsen whispered.

That broke the stun. At least for Florea. “You? You do it every five minutes.”

Marsen let his shoulders hang. “I am screwed.”

“Screwing sounds like fun!” The vixen piped up. Having caught her breath somewhat. “You won. Will you ravage my body? Give me a stern talking to? And a stern pounding.”

Petruvio looked at his defeated opponent. She wasn't bad-looking, but she was just so young. Besides, his pride wouldn't let him screw around for free. “Nah. I'll take something from your bag as a recompense and call it quit. Got a die?”

Sitting up, the vixen pouted. “Really? Fine. Yeah, I got a die. Four sided. Found it abandoned not far away. Was supposed to return it to The Barnyard.”

“So, we roll dice here after all? Leana wanted to know.

“Not quite,” Petruvio remarked as he took the large die from the vixen. “We can roll for who takes the next duel, opens a chest, or who gets certain loot.”

“You know,” the vixen purred. “The offer still stands. I think you might make a for a foxy-”

“Ain't going for a Kitsune build,” Petruvio hastily cut her off, and to mask it better, he turned around to his students. “See the two tails? This means she has been a volunteer for two years. The record is a Kitsune with nine tails. Though few stay so long to earn so many.”

“Hey! Don't give away our secrets!”

Petruvio waved his students on. “You won't find Kitsune in the wild. They are called Kitsune here because they are named after the first volunteer who requested an additional tail.”

A “How rude!” echoed from behind them as they walked away. It made Petruvio sigh in relief. Nearly, the Kitsune had given away the twist that he still concealed from his students.

Chapter 6

A few hours later, Petruvio had them successfully avoid any other encounter. Distracting them with loot helped. The die he had won settled a few arguments about who would do the honors of looting and disarming traps. Usually by tripping them.

Quiska had won the most throws of the die. Having won the most loot and being dressed the most. Not that this was helpful. For one, in typical Shroom Dungeon fashion, the garments were pretty deviant. On the other hand, Petruvio judged Quiska furthest along her initial transformation. She looked rather androgynous. Petruvio suspected that Florea, Leana, and Quiska might have figured out what was in store for them. At least, he judged it based on their glances.

Marsen was taking peeks too. Not at his companions, but down the collar of his tunic. But only when Marsen thought no one was looking in his direction. Petruvio wondered what went through the young fighter's mind. Was he confused? In denial and thinking it was just a little swelling happening on his chest? Indeed, the tunic was sewn with ladies in mind and its cut now prevented Petruvio from figuring out just how far Marsen was along.

Carved branches and roots clued him in that they came closer to the next district. They had left the Harem's Sprawl behind some time ago and made their way through labyrinthine tunnels that all looked the same. But now, the plain rock wasn't just dotted with bioluminescent mushrooms, but pieces of art that invited them closer.

“Nearly there. Then, the fun can begin. And a few more lessons.” That Petruvio gave a sinister chuckle and rubbed his hands probably didn't help assure his students that everything was fine.

“I think I see the exit ahead. There is sunshine.” Leana turned around confused. “I thought the dungeon was closed off from the outside.”

“As with everything in Shroom Dungeon, not everything is what it appears as.” With those words, Petruvio led them into a large cavern. But it was easy to miss this fact. There was a blue sky. Only closer examination revealed that it was an illusion created by a seamless carpet of bioluminescent mushrooms. The grass too yielded to closer examination and was revealed to be fungi.

There was no doubt that they had arrived in the Tribal Lands. A caravan of brightly colored wagons circled around a central plaza of simple packed dirt. It was easy to spot which wagons belonged to Orc or Goblins. The former boasted of wagons of a size that put those of humans to shame. But they appeared to be mostly for storing goods. Tents of various rich colors created living and working spaces for the Orcs.

One might think that Goblins would have smaller wagons. Given that they were half the height of Orcs. Instead, they were just as tall or larger to accommodate two stories of living space. Where Orc wagons were wooden frames with vivid canvas toppings, Goblins preferred wood exclusively for their mobile homes. A few even had shingles on top of their roofs.

The district was bursting with activities. Orcs and Goblins roaming around everywhere. It was immediately clear why the slur “Greenskins” was misleading. Most Orcs had skin in various shades of green, but not all. There were quite a few who had dark brown or light tan color. The latter is not that far off from some of the human races. Most Goblins weren't even green. Various shades of brown were equally as common. A few were light or dark gray.

“Was that a pink Goblin?” Florea asked as a bright spot of color had raced through the camp. Just to vanish from sight equally fast.

Petruvio shrugged. “Goblins have the trait to adapt their skin color to their environment within a few generations. If there is a region where pink dominates, it might be possible. But it is most likely traces left of a previous transformation caused by mushrooms.”

“Welcome! Welcome.” The voice belonged to an older female Orc that separated out of the crowd of the central gathering. Her once bright green skin had faded to a muted tone and her hair had turned white. “I go by Mahrlar in this dungeon and I am one of the voluntary guides of the Tribal Lands. Are you here to learn about the customs of Orcs or Goblins?”

“My name is Petruvio,” the teacher replied while giving a courteous bow. Then pointed to the rest of his group. “I am the teacher of this young group of adventurers. This is - for now - Marsen, Florea, Leana, and Quiska. It came to my attention that previous teachers failed to properly educate them about orcish and goblin culture. We are fortunate enough to have now the opportunity to remedy this oversight.”

“Welcome younglings.” Mahrlar waved them onward to the caravan. “Come. Come. There is much to see and learn. You appear to be in the middle of your first change. Perhaps you would like to finish it first before fully immersing yourself in our culture?”

“We don't know yet what the first change is.” Florea was about to glance at Petruvio but stopped herself. “Our teacher wants to keep it a surprise.”

Petruvio gave a chuckle. “Now is the perfect moment to reveal it. All you have to do is-” His voice faded off and he enjoyed the expecting looks of his students. Having judged torturing them enough, he relented. “Take up Mahrlar's offer and follow her. I expect she will give you a choice of feast. Choose one and find out.”

Mahrlar gave a nod and half-bow. “You have been here before.”

“Once.” Petruvio turned to his students. “Come on, little ducklings. In a row and follow this nice Orc lady.”

As they did as told, Petruvio heard the slight mutter of “he has too much fun with this” from Leana. He decided against calling her out. For she was right, indeed.

Mahrlar led them into the camp and steered them towards a faux market stall. There were many baskets. Each was filled with one kind of mushroom. They all resembled each other but varied in color. The only obvious divider was the fact that half were small in nature, while the others were quite tall.

“Feel free to go ahead and sample them.” Mahrlar waved the young adventurers closer. “Find one or two sorts that fancy your taste. Then grab a pillow from the stack over there and eat your fill. You will soon find yourself born anew.”

Florea and Leana didn't waste any time. Going ahead and sampling the many different kinds of mushrooms. Marsen and Quiska took a little longer. The archer of the group wasn't as hesitant as Marsen but usually preferred to take her time to study and analyze. But they too joined the others.

As the four settled on a pillow each, Mahrlar took position beside Petruvio. “And you? Not joining in?”

The old warrior gave a chuckle. “I value the offer, but I am going for a delayed transformation run. See how far I can make it before Shroom Dungeon will have its pound of meat from me.”

“I never understood that mentality,” Mahrlar said with a slow shake of her head. “Why delay the inevitable?”

Before Petruvio could reply, Quiska spoke up. “I think this confirms it. The mushrooms are turning us into men.” The archer didn't appear upset. As always, she was calm and collected. Preferring to take her time analyzing unexpected developments. In combat, that was sometimes her strength and sometimes her weakness. If any emotion could be deducted, it was curiosity.

It wasn't hard to see why Quiska had come to the conclusion. She looked mostly male, with only a few traces of her womanly self left. Florea and Leana were a little ahead in their transformation, but these two had been too focused on eating. The latter was not just content with one type of mushroom, but sampling three.

“The cat is out of the bag.” Petruvio grabbed a few pillows and made himself comfortable. “Except, of course, for Marsen. I see womanhood is not far away.”

“Wait? I am turning into a woman?” Marsen honestly looked surprised by the revelation.

“Just look at your chest!” Just to be helpful, Florea pointed there. “You are growing breasts. Big ones. How could you not have noticed.”

“Well, I did, but-” Quite unlike him, Marsen turned timid. “I thought it was some side effect. Maybe an unusual reaction. It is just my chest, so I thought it was something local.”

“Look down!” Florea insisted and Marsen tried. It wasn't easy looking past his growing rack. “Those hips don't lie.”

“Children. Play nice.” Petruvio didn't really see them as children. Despite their age difference. But sometimes, he found robbing them of their adult status made them pay more attention and act more mature. “Everyone reacts a little differently to their first change in Shroom Dungeon. Yes, you are turning into the opposite gender. Congratulations. Make sure to pick an appropriate name for yourself, before your friends do it. Or me. But in all seriousness, some people can not handle the change. Doesn't look like any of you are freaking out. Still, some like the change, others avoid it. Some return gladly year after year to Shroom Dungeon to appreciate it. If it isn't your cup of tea, you can always exit early. There is no shame in it. But if you can handle it, then there lies a great opportunity before you.”

As always, after each big lecture, the group fell silent. Going through his lesson at their own pace. Florea was the first to make up her mind. Not by speaking up. Just quietly reaching for the next mushroom to eat. Leana was only seconds behind. Quiska held a mushroom up and behold it as if it contained a myriad of answers. But she too took the next bite.

Marsen was quiet and Petruvio studied him without being too overt about it. The young man - nearly a young woman now - was clearly working through something. An inner conflict had had Petruvio worried. Early on, Petruvio had found out that Marsen hadn't had the best role models to learn from. Rich and entitled, the boy had grown up expecting women to be available and eager for him. A belief that reflected upon his choice of companions. He paid Florea, Leana, and Quiska to be his adventuring companions. But also to bed him. They were as much a status symbol as they were needed to fill an adventuring party. Why else would he dress them up in the skimpiest of armor?

And now? The roles Marsen had grown up with and lived by would be reversed. In his upbringing, as a woman, he would have to be available to others. Not just to one man, but three. Of course, this whole screwed worldview was something Petruvio wanted to change. And he seriously doubted the three women-turned-men would abuse the situation. But of all four, Marsen had the most growing up to do. The most to learn. It was a daunting prospect. Better men have folded and given in to their fear.

“I am sorry.” Just when Petruvio was about to speak up, Marsen looked up and sought out his teacher's eyes. “I shouldn't have insisted that we come. You must be one of those that doesn't like the change and I dragged you here. I am sorry.”

For a moment, Petruvio was speechless. Maybe he had underestimated how far Marsen had come. The young boy who had hired him a year ago wouldn't have been able to show empathy and compassion. It filled Petruvio with pride.

“That's not it. Do not worry,” Petruvio replied softly. “Let me tell you a little story. When I was a wee lad - about this high - I loved honey. Everything that had honey in it or was made with it. If not, I always wanted to add honey. Of course, my Ma would warn me to not eat too much. Well, once I moved out, no one could tell me off. I bought two big jugs of honey and went to town. I ate it all. Even when I got sick, I ate just more. It was one of the biggest mistakes of my life. To this day, I can't eat honey without remembering how awful I felt that day. Really, I thought I was about to die.”

Petruvio took a break for a sigh and saw confusion in his pupils’ eyes. “I said it before. Shroom Dungeon has a way of revealing who we really are. It is a place of new experiences and even pleasure. Yes, quite a few delight in having sex as the opposite gender. Most take it in in measures. Visiting once or twice a year for a week. They savor it. Always keeping something left that they can visit the next time. For others, it is not enough. They decide to stay. Become a volunteer. Stretch it out and contribute in turn.”

He caught the eyes of each of the young adventurers. “I am not one of them. I am the one who overindulges. Who has to have everything. Immediately and without delay. When I visited Shroom Dungeon, I had to experience everything. Do everything. Until there was nothing left. And still, I wanted more. I created challenges for myself. Went ways that no one dared to walk before. But eventually, even there I ran out of stuff to do. What the honey failed to teach me, Shroom Dungeon did. When I left Shroom Dungeon I vowed to not return. Because there was nothing left that I hadn't already done. And even now - with Shroom Dungeon having grown - my old ways could return. Two new districts. Would I savor them or abuse them until I grow bored? I rather not find out.”

Marsen didn't look assured after Petruvio's little monologue. Instead, he might have looked even more conflicted. “So, I exposed you to temptation instead. If you want, we can leave.”

The young man got a good-natured, but rough chuckle from his mentor. “Give me a little credit, will ya? Even old clappers like me can learn. I'll be fine. As long as we stay away from the new districts. And maybe one or two of the old ones. Besides, you ain't getting out of this one that easily. Keep on eating and see what you turn into. That is half the fun of Shroom Dungeon.”

Soon, the quartet's initial transformation concluded and the three new lads stripped down naked. The poor excuse for clothing - lingerie really - wasn't made for men. Still, none of them wanted the belt harness and codpiece. Marsen was fine clothing-wise. Or so Petruvio thought. His - her - endowment soon strained against the tunic.

“Now I know why most of the clothing is for women,” Quiska remarked as they kept on eating. “Not because all the items for men are already looted. Because most adventurers are men and turn into women. I guess they stocked the dungeon accordingly.”

“Don't worry.” While the other four ate with gusto, Petruvio nibbled here and there. Taking his time. “There is still plenty of loot for you.”

It was true. From what Petruvio had heard, only a fifth of all adventurers were women. Not that they were discouraged from it. But not many saw the appeal of it. Which made Marsen's group quite the oddity.

Soon, Florea, Leana, and Quiska started to pose and show off their new muscles. Petruvio guessed they all were munching on shrooms that would transform them into Orcs. The species was muscular by nature. Marsen looked like he had picked a type for Goblins. Not that the youth really noticed. It appeared the newly made woman paid more attention to her companions' change than to her own.

“What do we call ourselves?” Quiska asked suddenly. “We can't go on by our old names. And as Teach said, we don't wanna wait until we get unflattering nicknames. I think for me, Iskan would be the closest to my name.”

Leana gave an amused grunt. “My Ma always called me Len when I wasn't behaving like a proper young lady. When anything wasn't according to her will, it was always tomboy Len who was at fault.”

“Nice to make your acquaintance, Len.” Iskan gave an elegant bow and promptly stumbled. Having not quite adjusted to his new body yet. To mask it, he narrowed in on the third new male addition to the team. “What about you, Florea?”

Florea scrunched her nose. “I think the male form of Florea is Florius. Which sounds like a pompous ass. Not fit for an Orc either.”

“An Orc for now, Florius,” Petruvio pointed out. “There are other forms in Shroom Dungeon for you all to enjoy. All of them male for you.”

“How about we just shorten it to Flo until I find something better? What about you Marsen.”

The newly remade Goblin woman looked up from her meal and did a shocked double-take. “Damn, you all got big.” Then the real epiphany dawned on her. “Or I got small. Wow, I am tiny.”

Always the helpful Mentor, Petruvio gave a rough estimate. “A little above three feet, I guess.”

“Right.” The little Goblin stood up and a few snickers could be heard. Her tunic now resembled a dress as it fell down to her knees. “What was it you wanted to know?”

“You need a new name, right?” Iskan sat down to be on eye level again. “Have you given it some thought?”

The goblin woman rested her head on her hands and looked contemplative. Or cute. Depending on who one would ask. “I think Marsen was an old name. Derived from some forgotten language. It means ‘man of clay’. Or ‘from clay’. I am not sure. But I have no idea what the female form would be.”

Petruvio gave a few tsks. “It's old Besopotamian. The female version would be Mesine. Or ‘woman of clay’.”

“Mesine? I like it.” The little Goblin girl grabbed the hem of her tunic as if it were a skirt and gave a curtsy. “Pleasure to meet you all.”

Marsen slash Marsine took to the change better than Petruvio had anticipated. He had been worried how the young man would react, but the young woman before him took it in stride. That should make him happy, but something in the back of Petruvio's head was worried. Yet, he couldn't put his finger on it.

Shaking off his worries, Petruvio spoke up. “Looks like you are all set. You all have names and your transformation looks about done. Go ahead. Explore a little. Find out why I prefer orcish and goblin culture to a few of the human ones. And if you feel adventurous, give your new body a spin. Maybe even have sex. Plenty of others do it. You might like it.”

As far as Petruvio could judge, they all did appear curious enough. Not rejecting the notion outright. Len stepped forward. A little awkward as he wasn't used to his male or orcish body yet.

“And you Teach?”

“Me?” Petruvio grabbed a few more pillows and leaned down. “I am gonna take a nap. Shoo!”

The students got the message. Slowly walking away. Petruvio was really feeling his age. It wasn't just some play. He really wouldn't mind a nap. As he closed his eyes, he heard a last exchange.

“You know, if you want to try, I'd be gentle.”

The voices were still new, but Petruvio thought it was Florius who had made the offer.

“I-” Mesine sounded hesitant. But there was also something else. “Maybe-”

Well, Petruvio didn't want to pry. Sometimes, students had to learn on their own. Getting a little more comfortable, he dozed off.

Chapter 7

“Teach. Teach!”

Iskan's urgent voice shook Petruvio awake. In addition, the young man was literally shaking Petruvio, who sat up with a groan.

“What is it?”

Iskan looked worried. Exhausted too. Behind him stood Mahrlar. An equally grim look on his face. “It is that student of yours. Mesine. She is out of control.”

Another groan escaped Petruvio. He knew he shouldn't have expected everything to go well. “What did he do - SHE do - this time?”

Iskan failed to hold Petruvio's gaze and looked away. “Well, she had sex and-”

“That is not uncommon,” Petruvio reminded him. “In fact, it is pretty typical. So, what about it?”

“Well, Flo and she wanted to try it out. At first, Mesine was hesitant. But once they got going-” Iskan blushed deep green. “When Flo tapped out, she sort of seduced me. Teach, she is insatiable. We went through three rounds. I didn't even know men could go three rounds. None that I ever-”

Petruvio still failed to see the problem. “Orcs have a lot of stamina. Goblins even more so.” He looked at the older Orc. Urging him to explain the situation with a level look alone.

Shaking his head, Mahrlar stepped closer. “Are you familiar with the term Casash’breh?”

“It can't be that bad.” But if it was, then the matter was serious indeed. Petruvio got up and saw the worried and questioning look of Iskan. “Casash’breh roughly translates to ‘loins of fire’. In human terms, one might call it nymphomania. Except, Casash'breh even outpaces that definition to shame. Surely, Mahrlar, it is not that bad.”

“She has gone through every man in camp. Even a few women. She is insatiable.” Then, Mahrlar added something that made Petruvio's blood freeze in his veins. “She might be worse than The Madame!”

“The Madame? No one is worse than the Madame.”

“Who is the Madame?” The confusion in Iskan's voice was understandable, but Petruvio had no time.

“Later.” Petruvio gave Iskan a look that did not tolerate any talkback. “Mahrlar, where is she?”

“Follow.” The older Orc turned and led them on. It was safe to say that Petruvio would have found her on his own. He would have just to follow the trail of exhausted men - and one woman - to a secluded place behind a wagon. “There.”

Mesine was easy to spot. She was the only one standing. Currently trying to get Len up by pulling on his arm. “Oh, come on. Just one more round.”

Len gave a lazy shake of his head. Too exhausted to answer or to free his arm from her grasp.

“MESINE!” If Petruvio had mastered one skill above anything else, it was to shout in a way that portrays a few details without failure. You have messed up and you better pay attention. His posturing of hands on his hips and staring down at her was just the icing on the cake.

The little Goblin let Len's arm fall in shock. Having caught in the act, she turned around to see her mentor with a judging gaze. A few expressions went over her face at such a rapid pace that others might have missed it. But Petruvio knew people like Mesine well.

The shock made way for embarrassment. It was replaced by frantic thinking on how to explain herself. Mesine's solution was her best attempt at puppy eyes. She opened her mouth for her heart-felt defense when the next shift occurred. Mesine noticed her mentor was bare naked. Greedy lust appeared. Taken over by cunning planning as Mesine realized her mentor might not be up for simple casual sex. At last, she tried to disguise her interest with a look of innocence again.

“Don't look at me like that. It won't work. Students better than you have tried and failed.” Petruvio walked closer and fixed Mesine with a stern look that lasted until he was beside her. Then, the hard gaze made way for a look of suffering resignation. “Have you learned nothing from what I have told you? That one should savor the special and not consume it beyond measure.” A quick look around and Petruvio spotted a pillow. Grabbing it, he sat down beside his student to be at her eye level. “I take it you like sex as a woman?”

Mesine nodded while shyly glancing down. Then Petruvio corrected himself. The little Goblin stared at his dick. “I was surprised how good it felt. It doesn't even compare to sex as a man. If only I had known sooner-”

“You what? Become a woman?” Petruvio shook his head slowly. “Listen. Shroom Dungeon is special. A little bit unhinged. Those who made the mushrooms into what they are today, couldn't help themselves. They made transformed bodies a little more sensual and responsive. That being said if you would exit Shroom Dungeon and find a means out there to become a woman, then sex there wouldn't feel as great as it feels here. But Mesine, there is more. What do you like about being a woman aside from the pleasure?”

Finally, Mesine looked away from his dick and actually appeared to be thinking. Petruvio could swear he could see the gears in her head spinning. It took a moment, but she came to a conclusion.

“I don't know. I haven't been a woman for long.”

“And the time you spent as a woman, you only fucked.” Petruvio's own conclusion might be a little hard, but he felt this situation needed it. It was a delicate moment. He couldn't let her repeat his mistakes. “Believe me, I know that allure. If anyone can relate, then it would be me. But pleasure alone is not a good reason to switch genders. Well, not permanently. Now and then, there are some visitors to Shroom Dungeon who realize they have been in the wrong gender all their lives. They find the means outside to become their chosen gender and usually are a lot happier than before. But first, they make sure it is what they want.”

Mesine nodded along slowly. “I admit, I don't know. To be honest, I was a little curious about how it would be to be a woman. But then when we had sex-” The little Goblin blushed heavily. “I just couldn't think of anything else.”

Both - mentor and student - looked up as Mahrlar stepped closer. “She is Casash’breh. Perhaps, the form of a Goblin is not right for her. It pains me to ask, but perhaps in another district - and form - she might be happier. The Tribal Lands are meant to combat stereotypes. But someone giving in to their Casash’breh nature won't help.”

Mahrlar was polite about it, but the Orc was kicking them out. Perhaps, it was for the best. He turned around. “Iskan. Help Florius and Len up. There are other districts to explore and loot to be found. And maybe we will make it to the next Harem's Sprawl when it comes to nighttime.”

Five minutes later, they were on their way. Leaving the Tribal Lands in a random direction. Petruvio led their little group with Mesine by his side. Florius, Len, and Iskan trailed behind with a bit of distance. One might think their exhaustion might be the reason, but their fugitive glances at Mesine revealed the truth. All three were wary that Mesine would cox them into another round of sex.

While plain obvious to Petruvio, Mesine didn't notice and focused on other things. “What's a Casash’breh?”

“Hmm. It is easy to translate, but hard to explain.” Petruvio walked in silence for a few steps. Trying to decide where to begin. “First, you have to understand one aspect of Goblin culture: procreation. Most species prefer monogamy. Not so Goblins. If a Goblin woman decides she wants offspring, she sleeps with a few men in a short period of time. It is their belief that only the strongest seed will prevail. Usually, in order to avoid inbreeding, said woman would visit another tribe. Then she would return once the deed is done. As they can never be sure who the father is, it would be hard to enforce the concept of a family as most species practice. Instead, the tribe is everything.”

Petruvio noticed that Florius, Len, and Iskan had caught up a bit. Clearly showing interest too. “Now, for cultural or biological reasons, Goblin women are a little more open to the concept of sex and crave it a little more than other species. But sometimes, an outlier is born. These are called Casash’breh. Roughly translated to ‘loins of fire’. These Goblin women are not seeking sex for procreation's sake but for pleasure. And their hunger is endless. Some are exiled from their tribes, but most leave on their own. Seeking more sex in denser population centers.”

“I heard of rather promiscuous Goblins before,” Len remarked. Then quickly felt the need to defend himself as a few others looked at him. “Not personally. Just rumors.”

“Well, that is the problem,” Petruvio said firmly to get his students' attention back. “Most Goblins tend to keep to themselves. And as only Casash’breh seek out other cultures they get a screwed understanding of Goblin culture.”

“So, that is why I feel so naughty?” Mesine straightened up a bit and let out a nervous chuckle. “To be honest, I got a bit worried about myself.”

Petruvio chose to interpret his student's question as rhetorical. It was better not to answer, for he was worried. It was easy to forget that the transformations in Shroom Dungeon were not real. Only facsimiles. And the shrooms for the Tribal Lands were specifically bred to combat stereotypes. Not to reinforce them. This made it rather unlikely that they added the possibility of Casash’breh to them.

No, Mesine's behavior was hers and hers alone. Whatever caused them, Petruvio Wouldn't know. He could speculate, for he had walked a similar path to Mesine. And this was what worried him the most. There was still time. Maybe he could lead her to a different path. She doesn't have to follow in his footsteps. Not if he could help it.

“Who is The Madame?”

Iskan's question made Petruvio stumble and he barely caught himself from falling by grabbing onto the root-like mycelium of the mushrooms clinging to the wall. How he had hoped Iskan would forget about it with everything else happening. But now, it was better to answer and quench that thirst for knowledge.

“I'm fine. I'm fine.” Dusting himself off, Petruvio straightened up. “The Madame. Don't invoke that title light-heartedly. Yes, title. Let me explain. Over time, Shroom Dungeon developed a few positions that garnered respect and influence. Those who volunteer often set their goal on one of these titles and work toward them. One, you already know. Alune is the current Mistress Of The Impish Armory. She isn't the first one. There were a few before her.”

Petruvio waved them on and fell into the familiar voice of teaching that his students knew. “Most titles are bound to a district. Often in a leadership position, but not always. For example, The Priestess roams the dungeon. Preaching a fake, but humorous religion about the local mushrooms. She often gifts rare mushrooms or loot to those humoring her and playing their part as devoted followers. She usually is also accompanied by a few acolytes. If The Priestess retires, one of her acolytes takes over as the new Priestess.”

“So they are honorable positions?” Iskan concluded. “Then why did Mahrlar sound fearful when mentioning her?”

The question made Petruvio give her a humorless chuckle. “The Madame is the newest title in Shroom Dungeon and one more born out of infamy. She was not unlike Mesine here. Fucked everyone willing. But at some point, it was not enough anymore. She wanted fame and glory. Not to mention that people would come to seek her out instead of her chasing them. For that reason, she opened up a brothel.”

There was an awkward silence that stretched until Florius spoke out what they all thought. “Isn't that a little crazy? I mean, from what I gather, people in Shroom Dungeon have plenty of sex, right? That volunteer back then practically tried to jump your bones, Teach. Who in their right mind expects someone here to pay for sex?”

“And that's the reason why The Madame is infamous around these parts.” Petruvio couldn't help but give a small secret grin. “A Brothel in Shroom Dungeon is a foolhardy idea and still, she made it work. She became known as the best and her students too. Yes, if anyone wanted to master the art of having sex, they thought her out.”

“Have you ever met her?” Len asked.

Petruvio carefully crafted his answer. “Remember when I said I was eager to explore anything and everything. One could say The Madame taught me patience and to value quality over quantity.”

Iskan was quick to draw conclusions. “Sounds like she could straighten Mesine out.”

Mesine's immediate protest was ignored as Petruvio stopped and made sure all his students looked at him. “That won't be possible. She left the dungeon a few years ago. None of her students took over. Her title is unclaimed. As is her brothel.”

They all accepted his explanation. Iskan looked a bit skeptical but didn't challenge him. Glad that they could drop the topic, Petruvio had them march on. Their goal was the next Harem's Sprawl district.

As quickly as Petruvio wanted to arrive, he couldn't deny his group the opportunity to hunt for loot. Surprisingly, Mesine was more into it before. She had no competition for female equipment yet. That would change once Petruvio succumbed to the slow transformation that Shroom Dungeon held in store for him.

Maybe it was his remark that Mesine should explore other aspects of being a woman that made her eager to dress up. But Petruvio doubted it. Her choice to wear and model the sluttiest outfits and then strut before her companions spoke of a different truth. The temptress vied for the next fix. Her every move reminded him that she was an addict. Maybe he should get them out of Shroom Dungeon while he still could.

Eventually, they arrived at the Harem's Sprawl. The four looked strange at him when he said no watch rotation was needed, but accepted it without challenging it.

“Ah, I don't feel tired yet.” Mesine posed in a skimpy dress that was more net and air than fabric. “If only three strong and willing men would tire me out.”

Petruvio didn't even have to look in their direction to see four pairs of eyes looking at him. Without turning, he waved off their concerns. “Go ahead. I don't mind. Just make sure you actually sleep sometime.”

Laying down on a daybed, Petruvio tried to sleep. Outside - in the wild or regular dungeons - he had a light sleep and easily woke up. A good skill to have. But falling asleep to the lullaby of an orgy was an old and familiar friend. He was asleep in seconds.

Chapter 8

Petruvio stretched as he woke up. Yes, there were a few minor pains doing so, but that was just his old age showing. Still, he had slept well. Maybe better than in a long time. For a moment, he enjoyed the quiet. A part of him had feared waking up to the sound of the boys and Mesine still having fun.

Mesine. She really reminded Petruvio of his former self. Back then when he had entered Shroom Dungeon. Nearly three decades ago. How he wished he could take his younger self to the side and give him a stern lecture. Would he have listened? Petruvio wasn't sure.

His student wasn't. She appeared to be listening, but Petruvio could tell it was going into Mesine's ear on one side and left without stopping on the other. Yes, he decided, it was time to get Mesine out of Shroom Dungeon. It wasn't exactly fair for the boys, but he hoped they would understand.

With his decision made, Petruvio got up and looked around. Florius, Len, and Iskan slept on a pile not far away. Time to wake them up. Just as he reached out to shake Len, Petruvio noticed something else. It made the bottom of his stomach drop.

“Len, wake up. Iskan. Florius.” The boys groaned as they woke up. Groggily looking around. Petruvio wished he had time to be more gentle. “Boys! Where is Mesine?”

Len looked around confused. “She was with us when we turned in for the night.”

“Maybe she is relieving herself?” Iskan offered.

It was a possibility. Shroom Dungeon was different from normal dungeons. Here, every Harem's Sprawl and district had a discreet place where one could do their business. Petruvio hoped that was it, but doubt clawed at his insides.

“Get up! We have to find her.”

The Harem's Sprawl wasn't big and soon it became evident that Mesine wasn't around. Instead, they found a sleeping bunny girl beside a large sack. Gently, Petruvio shook her awake.

The bunny girl yawned and sat up with sleepy eyes. Then, she noticed the company. “Oh, my! The night-raider gets night-raided. Again! That won't be good for my reputation.” Then she broke out in chuckles.

Petruvio ignored the mirth of the bunny girl. “You were raided before? By whom?”

A silly little grin spread over the bunny girl's face. “There was this Goblin girl. Damn, she was a firecracker. So eager and her stamina- Damn.”

“That's her. Where did she go?”

Bunny-girl shrugged. “No idea. I kinda passed out. Oh, but we talked a little. In between, you know. Told her about some districts nearby. She liked the sound of the Red Flame district.”

“Fuck!” Petruvio didn't swear often and if he did, it was a bad sign. All three of his remaining students took a step back. “That little-” With effort, Petruvio stopped and tried to calm himself a little down. “Come. There is no time to lose.”

With haste, Petruvio marched towards the district. His three students trying to keep up like three little ducklings after their mother.

“What's so bad about the Red Flame district?” Florius pressed out while trying to keep up. “I thought none of the districts were dangerous.”

“They aren't.” He owed them an explanation and Petruvio slowed down a little to find his breath to do so. “The Red Flame district mimics the nether dimension. So, you'll see plenty of demon facsimiles. It is home to a few of the darker roleplays. Don't get me wrong. Consent is still key. Even there. But a few of the roleplays can get into the pretend non-consensual territory.”

“And she won't know,” Florius concluded.

“No, they will make sure she understands. There are safewords and safeguards in place. What worries me is that she might like it. Boys, we are losing her. Shroom Dungeon will claim her. Just like it did me. For people like us - me and her - it is too much. We become addicted. I know where that leads and I want to do better for her than the group that I visited Shroom Dungeon with.”

For the last part, Petruvio had stopped and made sure the boys knew how serious he was. They all nodded back. “Lead the way,” Len said seriously. With all haste, they continued on.

An hour later, they knew they were close as the dungeon around them changed. The rock and mushrooms took on a reddish hue. Soon, part of the tunnel fell away to a bubbling river of molten lava. Florius, Len, and Iskan did their best to keep their distance, but Petruvio simply ignored it.

Their forced march ended in a large cavern and a small lake of lava. There appeared to be no other exit and only a few chunks of stone mimicked floating islands.

“Is it a dead end?” Iskan asked. “Maybe we did take a wrong turn?”

Petruvio hushed him. “Just wait. They usually go for the dramatic entrance here.”

Suddenly, two dark horns broke the surface of the lava lake. As they came nearer, the head of a woman appeared. She had deep dark red skin, black lips, and yellow glowing eyes. The tips of folded bat-like wings broke the surface at the same time as her large endowment did too.

“Who dares disturb the Infernal Gatekeeper? Foolish mortals! What tribute do you bring before me? Speak, or my wrath may haunt you!”

Petruvio turned around nonplussed. “Infernal Gatekeeper is another of Shroom Dungeon's little coveted titles.” He turned back to the mean and darker version of the Succubus that had guarded the Impish Armory. “Yeah. Yeah. We tremble before you. Could you open up the passage? We are in a hurry.”

The Infernal Gatekeeper took a surprised step back. “What insolence is this? Repent, mortals, or-” With eyes like saucers, she watched Petruvio jump into the lava. Straight for the rock that had the hidden switch to reveal the passage. A second later, the concealed door opened and more platforms emerged from the fake lava. She couldn't believe it. “What the hell is going on?”

Petruvio ignored her as he waded through the lava soup and past her. “Hurry up, boys!”

Len had the prudence to say “Sorry, we are really in a hurry” as he skipped past.

Florius took it with mirth. “Gotta save a damsel in distress.”

Iskan kept quiet. Not so the Infernal Gatekeeper. “Rude!”

Only now, Petruvio acknowledged her. “Sorry, Abi. I will make it up to you next time.”

“What the-”

The rest was swallowed off as the group entered the Red Flame district and the murmur of the crowd washed over them. The boys had a hard time believing their eyes. Market stalls and shops took up every inch. Instead of sulfur, they smelled exotic spices. Courtesy of numerous vendors. Some offered different kinds of mushrooms with a picture of the resulting change.

Others provided services. Not just nails could be painted. Hooves and horns too. The latter was often adorned with piercings and charms as well. The offered make-up stalls looked tame in comparison.

A lot of vendors offered weapons and armor too. Though both barely deserved the name. The weapons looked more like sex toys and the armor was inappropriately scantily. Which fit Shroom Dungeon nicely.

“How did you know the Gatekeeper's name?” Iskan asked as he made his way through the crowd right behind Petruvio. “Or of the Mistress of that armory.”

Petruvio had to shout to be heard by his students. “Didn't I always tell you that it is good to stay informed? Knowledge is a tool and power all of its own. If you can help it, never go blind into a dungeon. Always gather information. Even about dungeons, you have no intention to visit again.”

Gradually, the street widened and opened up to a plaza that was no less crowded. While there was a steady flow of pedestrians, most stood still. Their attention was captured by a wooden platform and the spectacle that unfolded.

“SOLD!” a heavy-set man - in the disguise of a tall green demon - shouted into the masses. “For thirty-two rupees. Get your prize gentleman. For we already have the next offering. Caught fresh from The Battlefield, we have-”

“Is that a slave auction?” Florius asked aghast.

“Yes, but it's all pretend.” He pointed at the woman in the front. “See the fabric draped over her left arm. Each stitched symbol represents a kink, a preference, or a taboo. It's all a roleplay. Some people are into it. Others aren't. Just don't get distracted and keep an eye out for-”

Petruvio fell silent. Only to break out in curses that would make any sailor blush. There was no need to find Mesine anymore. Just as another pretend slave exited the stage, a new one stepped onto the platform. There were still two girls and one guy in front of her. Mesine also wasn't recognizable at first glance. Her skin had shifted to red, she had grown a foot in height, and small horns poked out of her scalp.

Len was quick to take a step forward but then hesitated. “Can't we just get her?”

“That would be bad form.” Petruvio gave a suffering sigh. “Not to mention it all depends on Mesine. Consent is key. That goes both ways. If she doesn't want to come with us, the guards here will make sure she is protected. Damn fool. What is she thinking?”

“Then how do we get her out of there?” Iskan looked truly worried.

A plan formed within Petruvio's mind. Not one he liked, but one that should work. “By playing along. I'll be right back. If she comes up for auction: stall. Raise the bet. Just don't overdo it.”

Petruvio walked off without waiting for his students' confirmation. Rushing to make way in the dense crowd. His goal wasn't far away. A restaurant for Saucies beckoned with a sweet smell and sweeter moans. It was one of the highlights from Shroom Dungeon that Petruvio had missed over the past few years. But there was no time. He ducked into an alley beside the restaurant.

It was a dead end. But only for those not in the know. He pushed at a certain place and a hidden door swung inward. Petruvio stepped in without a second thought. With fast steps, he navigated a labyrinth of small corridors.

“Hey! This area is for volunteers only!”

“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.” Petruvio downplayed the protest as he pushed past. “I know. Just need to borrow something real quick. You'll get it back soon enough.”

A quick step into a storage room and Petruvio swiped nine red gold-edged rupees. Making his way back before there was a new protest. With a little luck, the volunteer hadn't even seen what Petruvio had liberated.

“Thrity-five rupees!” The auctioneer shouted as Petruvio made his way back and he noticed he was just in time. Mesine was already up front.

Petruvio knew there were times when one should go for subtlety. This wasn't one of them. He couldn't let someone outbid him. Grabbing eight of the nine rupees, he held them up. “Four hundred rupees!”

The crowd fell silent. It was an outrageous price he just offered. The people split for him as he walked towards the platform. Mesine had spotted him. He could tell by how shamefully she avoided his gaze.

As Petruvio arrived, the auctioneer leaned down. “Are you sure, old man? She is an energetic one. Maybe a bit of trouble for those who can't keep up.”

“Don't I know it,” Petruvio replied, before handing over eight of his rupees. In return, he got a leash that led to a collar around Mesine's neck. “Come on. The others are waiting.”

“I can explain!” Mesine said as she jumped down. “It was just-”

“Not here,” Petruvio cut her off. “Wait with your excuses until we are somewhere quiet.”

As soon as they collected the others and entered another back alley, Mesine was quick to explain herself. “I wasn't running off. There was Bezky who told me about this district and I thought I could check it out before you all woke up. I admit, I slightly lost track of time, but-”

Deceptively calm, Petruvio interrupted her. “Who is the leader of this group?”

Mesine looked down. “You are.”

“Wrong!” The one word by Petruvio bid no talking back. “I am your mentor. The one you hired. But who was it who gathered the members of this group? Who founded it?”

“That was me,” Mesine timidly admitted.

“As a leader, you have a responsibility. You can't just run off whenever you like. And don't give me that crap about just stepping out for a minute.” Petruvio held up the piece of fabric that had told the crowd just what Mesine had hoped out of her slavery roleplay. “See this symbol. That says your agreed-upon duration is until the group buying you leaves the dungeon.”

Searching for help, Mesine looked at Florius, Len, and Iskan. But she only found stoic faces. She had squandered their compassion. This was now plain to see. Ashamed, she looked down on the floor again.

Silence reigned as Petruvio stared at his student. Mesine had lost control. Worse, Petruvio now doubted that Marsen on the outside would do better. For some, Shroom Dungeon was a revelation. Revealing hidden depths people hadn't known about themselves. Mesine was hooked and so would be Marsen. Taking her outside the dungeon might just cause Marsen to seek other means to become Mesine again.

But not all hope was lost. There was one more opportunity. It was a long shot. Forced overindulgence. Just like Petruvio as he had consumed too much honey in his youth and now couldn't smell it without getting a queasy feeling in his stomach. All he had to do was to frame it correctly. It would be for the good of his student. Of that, he was sure.

“Change of plans.” The revelation got the attention of all his students. “Flo, Len, and Iskan. Go have fun. Explore the Red Flame district or the surrounding area. Just be sure to find us in two - three at the latest - days in The Village.”

“And us?” There was a slight quiver in Mesine's voice. Was it fear? Anticipation? Hope?

“I had to borrow a lot of rupees. And on my honor, I intend to pay them back. But it will be your debt.” Petruvio leaned forward. Looming over Mesine. “I am going to whore you out until every rupee is accounted for.”

It was quick, but Petruvio caught it. The utter grin of delight on Mesine's face. Quickly schooled away, but he had seen it. Her real feelings. Petruvio gave a grin of his own. Oh, he will wipe the amusement off her face soon enough.

The boys must have caught it too as none of them protested. Instead, Len asked: “Where will we find you?”

“Just walk The Village. Eventually, you will run into us. Now shoo.” Petruvio waved them on. “There is someone I like Mesine to meet. If she doesn't listen to me, then maybe she will to her.

Chapter 9

Despite his words earlier, Petruvio walked casually. In one hand the leash of Mesine and the other was busy for he munched on mushrooms. The last rupee - worth fifty - bought him a basket and enough mushrooms to make sure he would arrive at The Village as a woman.

It was hours when Mesine finally found the courage to try for small talk again. “Teach? I get that I messed up. But I think we can get rid of the collar and leash, right?”

Petruvio paused long enough to give her a pregnant look. “I think not.” Not even entertaining the thought of elaborating. No, he would keep his student on a leash and where he could see her. At least, until they arrived in The Village.

With each mushroom, Petruvio changed slightly. It had been a minute, but the familiar silhouette of a woman settled over him. He would lie if he said he hadn't missed it. From the wide hips to the generous endowment on his chest. Yes, SHE still got it.

“You are very good-looking as a woman, Teach,” Mesine tried again. “For someone your age I would have expected-”

“My age?” Petruvio asked pointedly. Back to the doghouse it was for Mesine.

Five minutes later, Mesine tried again. “Everyone has a different name here, right? What should I call you? Now that you are a woman.”

“Friends call me Ravia.”

“And I can call you that?”

Ravia - formerly Petruvio - was surprised. What a few hours of sex-withdrawl could achieve. Mesine used her head again. At least enough to try for empathy again.

“Yes, you may call me Ravia. At least until we arrive at our destination.”

“And then?”

Ravia gave a wicked grin. “You'll see.”

A half-hour later, they arrived. The Village was drenched in fake sunlight. Mimicking the building style of the desert dwellers, the sand that littered the streets was slightly warm under their feet. A jumble of one and two-story houses crowded the district and the flat roofs were often used by visiting adventurers. Often jumping over Ravia's and Mesine's heads, when the local guards happen to be not watching.

Not quite as busy as the Red Flame district, there were still plenty of shops and stalls. Not that Mesine could appreciate them as Ravia dragged her on. The leash enforcing the mentor's will. It got a bit louder as they entered the part of The Village that housed inns and taverns. But none of those were their target. Instead, Ravia went straight for a large building with a row of huge ornate doors with fine carving. All of them closed and it was the only building totally quiet.

Not deterred, Ravia walked around and headed for a side entrance. “It has to be somewhere here,” she murmured as she checked some of the stones nearby.

“Hey, you two!” A guard hurried over. “Sorry, but this establishment is closed. Not part of the experience either. So, no breaking and entering.”

Ravia waved him off while flipping stones. “It's okay. I have permission.”

The guard gave a humorless chuckle. “Sure. Except, only The Warden or The Madame have the authority to grant access. And you don't look like our Warden.”

With a dangerous glint in her eyes, Ravia stood up. “Well, guess who I am then.”

“You're The Madame?” The guard and Mesine asked at the same time. The former sounded a little doubtful and the latter surprisingly pleased by it.

Ravia gave Mesine a wink and then suddenly clapped. “Now I remember. “ She walked three steps further away and flipped over a large stone. In a little hollow spot was a hidden key. Triumphantly, Ravia held it up and intoned “Ta tat ta taaa!”

It was a little too much for the guard. Stepping back a few paces. “I think I need to report this.”

“Don't be a spoilsport. I am only staying for a few days.” Seeing the guard unconvinced, Ravia rolled her eyes. “Sure. Go tattle. It is not as if this delve hasn't gone sideways enough. Mesine, inside.”

Inside, the lobby was richly decorated. There was a small bar. To Ravia's surprise, it was still stocked with fine spirits. A few tables with chairs dotted the room. Contrary to the taverns around them, these chairs were upholstered and finely crafted. A few daybeds lined the wall that led to a grand staircase.

“You really are The Madame?” Mesine asked. Her eyes were as large as saucers. Was that hero worship? Ravia hoped not. But Mesine beamed at her nonetheless.

“Not a fact that I am very proud of nowadays, but yes. I am.” Ravia waved Mesine a little closer and then undid the leash and collar. “Go and open all the front doors and then meet me upstairs.”

As Ravia slowly stepped up the stairs, more and more fake sunlight lit up the lobby. She had seen this view a hundred times and nostalgic memories whirled up inside. To her surprise, the upstairs was clean too. She had expected a layer of dust, but someone must have cleaned recently.

Two dozen small bedrooms lined floors two and three, but Ravia aimed for a larger room. A grand bed dominated the room and the walls were lined with shelves holding a huge collection of sex toys. Like a mockery of a library. To the side, there was a small office and the entrance to a large walk-in closet. Here, Ravia found something comfortable to wear. A figure-hugging evening gown made out of silk.

“I still got it,” Ravia purred as she saw herself in a full-length mirror. Yes, she had gotten even older, but she still could pull off this dress. It smarted a little, but Ravia was definitely more attractive than Petruvio.

“You look fantastic, Teach.” Mesine had appeared and she appeared as giddy as those who drank too many haste potions. “What now?”

“Now?” Ravia slowly walked out of the closet and made Mesine stumble backward. It helped that she was about two heads taller than the mixture of Goblin and Succubus facsimile before her. “First off, around here, you will call me Madame. The honorary title for those who lead a brothel. And that's where we are. Why?”

Ravia leaned over the other smaller woman. “Someone owes me four hundred rupees. Around here, the local currency is emeralds. Luckily for you, they can be exchanged one to one. So, here is your task. Take one of the bedrooms. They all should have a wardrobe with appropriate clothing. Dress yourself up. Then hit the streets. Fuck all you want, provided they pay you. Yes, little one, until you pay me off, you ain't no adventurer. Just a common whore. Now, get to work!”

Every decent woman would protest treatment like this. To be belittled and forced into prostitution. But a small percentage craved it. The humiliation and shame. It was their kind and turn-on. For reasons Ravia couldn't explain, this percentage was slightly larger for those women, who had previously been men.

Judging by how eager Mesine rushed off, Ravia knew where to categorize her. This would either work and cure Mesine of her addiction or it would fail spectacularly. She hoped for the former, but if she was a betting woman, she'd put her money on the latter.

Chapter 10

It was a slow afternoon. Not too many adventurers crowded the streets. Ravia lounged at one of the tables. Enjoying one of the spirits left behind at the bar.

She barely looked as Mesine dragged two adventurers into the brothel and up the stairs. A “she better don't forget her payment again” was all she murmured. Then, she perked up. Three men entered the street. Looking around while heaving large backpacks full of loot.

Taking her time, Ravia stood up and slowly walked to the edge of one door. “Flo! Len! Iskan! It's about time you show up. Come in. We need to talk.”

“Teach?” Len asked just as Ravia sat back down.

“You may call me Ravia.” She looked pointedly at Iskan. “Or by a different moniker. I guess you already figured out which one. Ain't that right?”

“The Madame.” Not a question. Just a statement. Iskan knew. But his companions looked surprised enough.

“Yes. Sit. We need to talk. And I guess I owe you an explanation.” Ravia waited until the three men had taken their seats. “I never lied to you, but I also never told you the whole truth. I only visited Shroom Dungeon once. Went rampage on all the available experiences and it still wasn't enough. So, I looked for a new challenge. To become the best. And what better way to acknowledge it than by having people pay me. Hence this brothel. As you can guess, I didn't stay here for one or two years like most volunteers. For me, it took twenty-eight years. I only left three years ago.”

It took a while for the news to settle down. Iskan was the first to be ready to talk, but he waited for the others to be ready too. However, it was Florius who spoke up first.

“Are you embarrassed? Why didn't you want us to know?”

Ravia gave her a sardonic smile. “Why be embarrassed if you are the best at something? No, having a reputation can be a boon. Or a drawback. That counts even for those who are associated with me. Tell anyone your mentor was Petruvio and people won't spare a second glance or thought. But if you tell them your mentor has been The Madame, people will think you are up for sex. And be good at it.”

She leaned forward and studied each and every one of her students. “There are people who are just different. Take Mesine for example. She-”

“Where is Mesine?” Len dared to interrupt.

“Upstairs getting fucked by two studs. I told her she had to pay me back those four hundred rupees and the way to earn it was by demanding payment for sex. No, don't pity her. It is an excuse. A test. One she failed or passed. Depending on your view.” Ravia leaned back heavily. A deep sigh escaped her and making her look a few years older for just a moment. “I could forgive the debt. Honestly, for volunteers, it is mostly symbolic and otherwise worthless. Right now, do you think Mesine will leave the dungeon? No, she is too much like me. She can't get enough. Maybe, in time, I can steer her into a more measured pace. But in my experience, this might take years.”

“What do we do?” The concern was very evident on Florius' face. “I believe her if she says Mesine won't come with us. But we can't stay here for years.”

Iskan sounded somber as he voiced his opinion. “We have to leave her behind, right? There is no way around it.”

“Shroom Dungeon has a way of revealing people's true selves.” If Ravia stayed behind to watch out for Mesine, this would be the end of their mentorship. “I can see by the backpacks you lug around that loot is more appealing to you than all the sex that Shroom Dungeon has to offer. Which speaks to a certain truth. If we are honest, Marsen was in it for the prestige and bragging rights. But you three. You are adventurers at heart."

Ravia let a sardonic grin play around her lips. "And I know. I am not blind. Marsen might have used you as much as arm candy as a means to fill his group. But it is obvious that you three went along because it got you into the adventuring business with good gear and a mentor. You took advantage of Marsen as much as he did of you. No, I am not judging you for it. Else, I would have spoken up sooner. No, it shows what you want and what you are willing to do to get it."

Flo and Len had the decency to look a little embarrassed. Not so Iskan. "Madame or not, as always, you make a lot of sense, Teach. But without you and Marsen, what are we to do? You are right. I won't stay here and wait until Mesine comes to her senses."

"My advice? Venture forth. You are adventurers and you are ready. Granted, there might be a few more group wipes in your future. But that is normal. Part of the adventurer life. Oh, and sell those ridiculous armors Marsen had you wear. It should give you enough money to buy proper armor with even better protective enchantments and finance you for a year." Ravia saw that her students nodded along. She might have made most of her teaching chops as The Madame, but teaching was in her blood. That, she had found out thanks to Shroom Dungeon too.

"Of course, with Marsen gone, you'll be down to three. Some groups make it work. But you'll need a tank. Len could step up or you look for an addition to your group. Aside from that, look to add a healer or a mage to your group."

For the next quarter hour, Ravia included as much advice as she could. Then, it was time to part ways.

"Don't be strangers," Ravia said as she gave her boys a final hug. "And if you have time, come by. Mesine and I will be waiting here."

It got quiet as they left. But Ravia wasn't fooled. She wasn't alone. Rolling her eyes, she walked back to the table and sat down. Seconds passed and she lost her patience. "I know you are lurking. Honestly, I expected you days ago."

A woman stepped out from behind one of the doors. As always, she wore an intimidating-looking leather armor. Dyed dark blue with golden accents. Knee-high boots with a high heel and a leather hat added to her strict and authoritarian looks.

"What gave me away?" she purred as she sauntered closer.

"Au de pussy on your face," Ravia remarked as dry as she could. "Courtesy of one of your prisoners, I take it."

The woman shrugged but didn't deny it. "Madame. Good to see you."

"Warden." For a moment, both women stared at each other. Not giving an inch. At last, Ravia spoke up. "Take a seat, I guess. What brings the overseer of the prison to me? Come to say: I told you so."

"Do I have to?" The Warden sat down. But not before procuring a bottle from behind her back and placing it on the table. "I wanted the first to say: welcome home. We missed you. And to deliver a little homecoming present."

"Fuck you." With a glare, Ravia swiped the bottle off the table. It was a whiskey. Strong stuff. A label she recognized. One of her favorite spirits and not local either. No mushrooms in it. "This must have cost you a copper or two. That's why I had a few days blessed absence of you?"

The Warden placed a hand over her heart. "Aww, you wound me. Thinking so little of me? I purchased the bottle a day after you left. It was obvious you would be coming. But I didn't expect you to bring back a prodigy. What? Is she to be to pick up your legacy? Become the next Madame?"

Now, for the first time, Ravia showed a hint of weakness by flinching slightly. "I didn't know. Not until we arrived here."

"Bullshit." The Warden said so with a shit-eating grin. "You. Me. We are from the same cloth. And so is she. There had to be signs. Let me guess. Ladies-man on the outside. A little bit of a chauvinist. Grown up to expect all women to fall to his feet. Some rich entitled asshole. Expecting every woman to hide a whore deep inside. But now, the shoe is on the other foot. The truth was revealed. Nothing cures one of a stereotype than to live as it for a few years."

"She was never as bad as we were." But the Warden's words smarted Ravia. It was true. There had been parallels between Marsen and Petruvio long before they stepped into Shroom Dungeon together. "And I was never rich, as you know."

"I heard rumors to the contrary." Ravia's glare made the Warden hold up her hands in a placating move. "Ah, grumpy as always. How I missed you. So, what's the plan? With her, I mean?"

"Trying to slow down her downward spiral. Maybe even break it." Ravia gave a shrug. "Hoping she won't be ending like me."

"Grumpy?"

"Fuck you."

The Warden's reply was non-verbal. Placing a single gold-rimmed emerald on the table.

For a few seconds, silence reigned as Ravia glanced at the single emerald and back at her old friend and rival. "One worth a fifty? I am not that cheap."

"Didn't you just say that they are worthless to us volunteers anyway?"

"It is the principal of things," Ravia replied.

Without breaking eye contact, The Warden grabbed into a pouch and withdrew a handful of gold- and silver-rimmed emeralds. Carelessly tossing them onto the table.

The Warden had a point, Ravia admitted. But only to herself. Once a slut. Always a slut. She wasn't just a whore. Ravia was the best whore Shroom Dungeon had ever known. And if she put her pride aside, she had to admit, she had missed Shroom Dungeon. Missed this. The prestige. Infamy. The sex. In many ways, she had evolved from the simple adventurer that had entered Shroom Dungeon twenty-eight years ago. But she was still one to indulge herself and would always be. Retiring outside of Shroom Dungeon was a fool's errand. She was born to be here. Shroom Dungeon was made for her. Or was she made for it? Was there a difference?

As graciously as she could manage, Ravia stood up. Grabbing the bottle of expensive whiskey with one hand, she offered the other to her old friend of many years. It was time to celebrate. For she was home.

Epilog

A few weeks later, Masine and Ravia sat at their favorite table. Shaded from the fake sun, but with a good look at the street outside. While Ravia appeared mostly human, Mesine had a new look to her. Scales dotted her skin. Reminding of a salamander. She was also down to barely three feet in height. Swearing she preferred it this way.

"It's not fair," Mesine grumbled.

"What is?" Ravia asked while barely looking up from her half-dozing off.

"Your pile and mine." The diminutive woman pointed at the two piles of emeralds between them. "I worked so hard."

Ravia couldn't hide a lazy smirk. "Yours is larger."

"But yours is worth twice as much!"

Once again, Ravia fell into the role of mentor without a second thought. "This is what I am trying to teach you. Quantity is fine. But Quality is worth so much more. And with it comes a different kind of reputation. One people pay more for. Besides, it would help if you offered less free samples."

She could already tell that Mesine was half listening as something in the street had caught her eyes. "I wouldn't mind doing that hunk for free."

Ravia could already envision the man in question. Probably tall and muscular. Towering over the small short-stack of a woman. By now Ravia knew her student's taste in men.

Of course, Ravia couldn't help but sneak a peek too. Who she saw made her stand out and walk out of the brothel. "SINDOR!"

"Madame!" The fool actually looked happy to see her. "You came back!"

Ravia was having none of it. "How dare you corrupt young innocent adventurer parties!"

Now it dawned on him that he was in deep trouble. "I can explain. Probably. I am sure it is a misunderstanding." Sindor hastily walked backward while addressing his two female companions. "You two go ahead. Find Tabby without me. And if I don't make it, tell my mother I hate her!"

And off he took. Ravia took a moment to stop beside the two companions. "Connie. Debbie."

"Madame," they both intoned with a slight bow.

"I how much trouble is he?" Connie asked.

"Don't worry," Ravia assured her while walking forth. Taking up the hunt. "He'll be making it to the exit before the time runs out. Until then, he is mine."

The End

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Shroom dungeon revisited

I read first delve when you originally wrote it and then out of boredom re-read it about a month ago. It was and still is a wonderful story.... I am so happy you wrote a new story about it. Thank you so much for writing a new shroom dungeon adventure. Now if you wrote about the reunion with Tabby I would love to read it.... also wondering about Tabby's parents

EllieJo Jayne

Shroom Dungeon - Homecoming

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