The door of the inn swings open to reveal a rather homely interior. The bard doesn't stop playing his lute as my entourage and I walk in, but many of the patrons give us wary looks. The barkeep watches me as I approach him. I can tell he's worried.

  "My friends and I would like a hot meal, some drinks, and a room, if you don't mind."

  The barkeep grunts "Twenty coppers, for the lot of you."

  "Hah! Consider it done."

  One of my guards steps forward to deposit the required sum. I can tell the barkeep is impressed by the amount of coin visible in the bag he carries. A paltry sum, but here a little silver is enough to raise yokels’ eyebrows.

  I sit at the bar, pleased to receive my drink in a timely manner. I chug it, the stuff burning on the way down as I cough. The barkeep chuckles at my expense.

  "Y-You serve this lantern oil and call it booze? Where's the good stuff?!"

  "Haven't got any, lad. We ain't in the capital."

  "Come on, you can bring out the valuable drink. We're good for it!"

  He looks as if he's considering it, and relents, leaving the bar for a brief moment to step into the back. While he's away I take the time to gander at the locals. There's many dirty looking men loitering here, and a few less than appealing older hookers. One woman stands out. She's dressed like she's somebody, and has two guards with her. She's watching the bard sing with a peculiar shiny rock in her hand.

  I rise from my bar stool without hesitation. Finding a woman suitable for me in the middle of nowhere is quite the treat, and I can't let such an opportunity slip through my fingers. With confident strides I walk right over to her table. The two burly looking guards glare at me, but I pay neither of them any mind.

  "Good evening, my lady. May I have this seat?"

  The red haired beauty turns to regard me, her eyes narrowing slightly as she looks at my partially obscured face. She doesn't appear to recognize me as she smiles casually. Her voice is sweet and pleasant in my ears as she replies.

  "You may."

  "Thank you. I'm Theo, by the way."

  "Rebecca."

  She glances from my face to the bard as he regales some rather silly tale about a knight slaying a wicked lord back in the time of such heroes. Knights were such a strange thing, some sort of bizarre breed of warrior given nobility. I much prefer our current way of doing things.

  Ignoring the bard's song, I turn to speak to the beautiful woman beside me.

  "Perhaps you'd like me to pay for your meal, Rebecca?"

  "I'd appreciate it, but it would be unnecessary."

  She's giving me very little room to work with. Perhaps she's into women? I would curse my luck if that is the case, but such things aren't exactly obstacles I can overcome.

  Right then is when the barkeep arrives at the table. He sets my bottle of find drink on the table, a wide grin on his face as he regards Rebecca. I'm a bit put off by the way he's looking at her. Sure, she is a fine woman, but she's far too young for this old man!

  "Miss Hawthorne, is this man bothering you?" The barkeep asks.

  "Oh, no, he's frankly quite entertaining."

  Wait, what? Is he acting like I could be the issue here?

  And why does the name Hawthorne sound familiar?

  "Let me know if you need anything, Miss Hawthorne."

  The barkeep bows to her as if she's worthy of it. I scoff, finding it ironic he's not bowing to the literal prince seated before him. The disguise may prevent him from recognizing my identity, but he should notice that I'm of importance, what with my royal posture and presence.

  Once the barkeep is gone I pop open the bottle of high value liquor. I don't recognize it, but it smells like wine. I pour myself a glass and smile at Rebecca. My gaze smolders as I offer her a glass of her own.

  "Would you like some wine, my lady?"

  "Oh, no thank you. I wouldn't dare take wine from Theobald the Vigorous."

  My jaw clenches. How could she know that dreadful misnomer? Wait, how did she even recognize my identity? I'm wearing a hood and cloak! I suppose she could see if there was enough light on the table, but there isn't a candle-

  Sitting between us, on the table, is a block of stone. The strange part isn't the shape of the material. It is the fact that the rock is glowing like a tiny sun. Rebecca must see my confused stare, as she explains.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  "This is a lantern stone. A new product I'm selling."

  "Selling? You... are a merchant?"

  "Yes, I am. I dabble in trade during my travels."

  My jaw goes slack as I finally realize who I've been flirting with. This is Rebecca Hawthorne, a renowned merchant who often trades with city lords as well as royalty. Cold sweat beads upon my brow as I straighten my posture. I'd rather Father not hear about this, as that would certainly undermine the quest he sent me on. I'm meant to be investigating rumors, not pursuing skirts! Especially not the skirt of one of his associates.

  "P-Pardon me for intruding on your evening, Miss Hawthorne."

  Miss Hawthorne smirks, leaning forward slightly. I would normally find this to be somewhat attractive, but right now it just feels threatening. This woman is on par with Captain Drake in terms of inconvenience. I swallow my fear.

  "Oh it is no problem, Theobald. Might I ask why you're near Daywark?"

  "Father gave me the opportunity to fulfill a quest. Naturally, I had to volunteer."

  "Naturally. You know, I'm actually on my way to Daywark. Isn't that a funny coincidence?"

  I'm not sure if she's telling the truth or if she just wants to make me uncomfortable. I don't press her on the issue. Better to take things at face value, and extract myself from the situation.

  "Really? I should be going, need plenty of rest for my investigation tomorrow!"

  I rise from my seat in such a hurry that it falls flat on the ground.

  "Theobald."

  Reaching down, I pick up my fallen chair. Miss Hawthorne is giving me a stern look, as if she's run out of patience for my antics.

  "Y-Yes, Miss Hawthorne?"

  "Your quest. What was the objective?"

  "To get to the bottom of the rumors about Daywark-"

  I clap a hand over my mouth. Damn me and my handsome yet clumsy mouth! Miss Hawthorne tilts her head like a dog might when it finds something interesting. She taps the table with her finger as if telling me to sit back down.

  "You and I have a few things to talk about, Theobald."

  ~

  Lately, I've been trying to change how I structure things in the dungeon. Adding those sealed doors. Creating the healing potion and the chest that contains them. Implementing an eclipse that threatens visitors in a bid to get them out so chests and such can be restored. All of this stuff is great, but there's a problem with my attempt at rebranding.

  The entrance. When I first got here I had no idea what was going on, and what I was meant to do. Now I feel I have a handle on how to approach things with visitors and my dungeon itself.

  Unfortunately those soldiers are all comfortably camping right outside the mouth of my dungeon. I can't make any changes until they move away from the area.

  So I'm presented with a dilemma: how do I get the soldiers to move a reasonable distance away?

  My first thought is poison gas of some kind. Obviously that's a bit overkill, as it would wind up killing at least one person for sure. While I'm not totally against a few visitors dying within the dungeon I don't like the idea of outright attacking someone who isn't doing anything wrong. That rules out stuff like napalm, radiation, flooding, and gas.

  Naturally, I could just try and brute force through the sphere of influence. It isn't impossible. The issue lies in the exorbitant mana cost required to mess with things too close to those born outside of my dungeon. A single stone made on the edge of the interference bubble cost me as much mana as Gu did to create! That's just too much.

  The last option that comes to mind is very different. Instead of trying to solve things myself, I can try to create someone else to solve the problem for me. I don't mean an advisor, but rather a creature designed to help push the humans away without attacking them.

  My theory is, I create monsters capable of scaring away the soldiers, and then give them some kind of built in recall feature. Maybe I magically modify them to come back to the dungeon when I say so, or maybe I use some kind of instinct to have them return after a time?

  Honestly that second one sounds way more doable for me. I don't want to risk accidentally bisecting an animal with teleportation magic.

  I start my work by hollowing out a large space to work in. The creatures I'm envisioning are going to need a lot of space to move around in, so I make this new cavern a kilometer wide. My plans for the terrain are more unique than Green Valley. The usable space is a kilometer across, as I've established, but there's an additional space surrounding that. The empty area descends down several storeys before ending abruptly in stone.

  The sky for this new area is quick and easy now that I know what I'm doing--I simply give the ceiling a coat of sky rock, ensuring the space functions much like Green Valley. Of course this new area doesn't have an eclipse function right now, since I don't plan on anyone visiting this place anytime soon.

  As for the unique dimensions of this area, I plan to use a variation of the sky rock to accomplish a visual effect. Layering the walls and the lowered edges of the chamber with altered sky rock gives the illusion of standing atop a plateau high above the clouds. Thick billowing clouds actually form around the bottom of the pit to match the appearance of the sky rock. Beneath the clouds an expansive forest is visible, peeking through gaps in cloud cover.

  The horizons of this false world far below are obscured by billowing fluffy clouds that rise to towering heights in the distance. The effect is breathtaking, a complete upgrade from the rather bland presentation of Green Valley. The urge to name the area tugs at me.

  I can't name this place until I have the creature meant to dominate it.

  Grass and soil are laid over the stone, the edges of the plateau are textured to look natural and eroded by many winds. With the environment suited for them, I begin work on the area's inhabitants.

  The flathoof is a quadruped. It stands on four wide flat hooves, each one big enough to rival the foot of an elephant. Its body resembles the rough shape of a loaf of bread with its rounded vaguely rectangular shape. Sporting a coat of shaggy brown fur, flathooves are uniquely suited to the fairly strong winds blowing across this plateau. These animals rival carriages in size and stature; Their immense size is juxtaposed by their normally slow movement and grazing habits.

  Flathooves are the gentle giants I need to get those soldiers to leave my dungeon's immediate vicinity--with the urge to migrate toward higher ground, they'll move their way up the dungeon's upper reaches in search of elevation. To draw them back one need only ring the right kind of bell to produce a specific sound they're innately drawn to.

  As for the name of this area?

  Flathoof Haven.