The research that normally goes into selecting where a dungeon will be birthed is a long and tedious process. There are many factors you have to consider like proximity to other dungeons, the local economy, the larger national economy, competency of the ruling body, and as always who was owed political favors. For this experimental dungeon the process should have taken longer than normal to ensure success. But who needs reason or logic when one of the powers that be decides they want things done now and not a second later.

  As such, for this particular dungeon the selection process proceeded as follows: All known mundane worlds with a population of at least five billion were written on small pieces of paper and then put in a large bowl. Surprisingly, there were only about two thousand to pick from as the Magical Worlds don’t really care about the mundane and don’t actively search for them. One of the research team interns was then blindfolded, spun in a circle twenty times and made to pick a paper out of the bowl.

  Could this have been handled better? Yes, yes it could have. Did they have the time to do a good job? No, no they did not. So with exacting and deliberate care they plucked forth a planet whose name meant Dirt. How inspired.

  San Antonio, Texas, United States of America, Earth

  It was a glorious and hot July day in Military City USA. The tourist driven River Walk was bustling, the noble and proud Alamo filled with visitors learning about their forefather’s sacrifice and the chatter of thousands of people echoed through the streets of downtown. There was even a gun show going on at the convention center. What a day to be alive!

  At noon there was a bit of an event taking place in front of the Alamo. People flooded into the plaza, eagerly awaiting the demonstration of reenactors to go through a short history of the fateful battle. The publicity stunt was set to be a big hit and the management let the volunteers and workers go out to watch along with the tourists. The historical monument drained of its visitors fell into a dull silence, the empty chapel strangely haunting. As the people outside were ramping up to the climax, where they would fire an unloaded cannon into the sky, small sparks began to float up from the floor of the empty building. A humming began, subtly at first before building in strength. Just as the reenactors were about to light the fuse, everyone was silent in anticipation, there was a loud CRACK that echoed through the plaza. As one, thousands of eyes turn to the Alamo only to see the building shudder before being blown apart as another structure seemed to grow and expand in the space the now former historical site once stood.

  People immediately began screaming and running, mass panic turning the crowd into a herd of stampeding cattle. There were some there though, that had experience in dangerous situations. Each one bore that unmistakable look of someone who was on leave from one of the local military bases. One of them, a Colonel Matthews, ducked behind a nearby wall and did a quick analysis of what he was seeing. Based on the fact everyone else was reacting to this, he knew his earlier beer hadn’t been spiked with a hallucinogen but what he was seeing didn’t make any sense.

  From the wreckage a pyramid was growing. It resembled the pyramid at Chichen Itza with its stepped structure. There were carvings along the stone, but something didn’t look right about them. The pyramid pushed up and out, displacing everything within the 100,000 square foot space that had housed the Alamo complex. All of the buildings, landscape and infrastructure was forced into the surrounding streets causing a massive amount of damage. With what almost felt like a sigh the structure stopped and then settled.

  The aftermath of this event is said to have been a bit surprising. Where most would have just been traumatized, it seems that the people of the city took up an old battle cry once they finally started delving into the Dungeon. To this day you can still hear squads of adventurers calling out into the depths “Remember the Alamo!”

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  —------------------------------------------------------------------------

  The Dungeon Shop

  You know I had thought that the most painful thing I could experience had been getting speared through by the rabbit that killed me. It had hurt like all twelve hells. Zero out of five customer satisfaction rating. Well, I discovered that waking up to getting catapulted off your bed to smash into the ceiling combined with the sound of all of your hard work being smashed around was far worse. I’m pretty sure all of my bones were broken and a good bit of my organs were crushed flat. Somehow I was able to hear my displays getting the same treatment despite the bodily injury done to me. When I finally revived after a few minutes I shook off the ground meat feeling to stumble through the splattered in and scattered paper over to the doorway.

  I have to say I’m a pretty patient guy, recent events notwithstanding, and it can take a good bit to rile me up. I was the only one who could handle the old widow Mrs. Coggins back home and let me tell you she was one battleaxe of a woman. When I heard the message from the Dungeon Master call out through the walls I saw only red for ten minutes straight. “Attention all staff. What you just felt was our breakthrough to the surface of the world. Any of you who were not prepared, that is on you as I most certainly covered that in the orientation. If anyone has any complaints they can join Garrick up on floor one. I’ve been informed we are located in the middle of a city center that should have enough economy to sustain a healthy delving population. Get to your positions as I expect visitors will show up shortly.”

  Once I could think clearly again I frowned at his statement. I had seen a new dungeon be birthed before and it had taken weeks. It was a slow process that gradually filled the intended space. I had no clue why it was such a violent transition from within the dungeon. Maybe that was how it was supposed to be when you’re part of the place?

  In the end, I had no idea. All this really boiled down to was I had to clean my shop back up and restock just about everything. The transition broke the potions as would be expected, but it had apparently been bad enough to bend and dent most of the weapons and armor I had out. The limited back stock I had in crates under the counter ended up coming out most unscathed thankfully. Once again, I sighed and grabbed my broom and the dirty blanket.

  I worked fast, anticipating that we would get visitors quite quickly. In record time I had everything cleared and stocked. Looking down at the bits of broken crate and lost stock I was in a bit of a pickle. The pile was half as tall as me and had nowhere to go. I Slipped over to my crystal to see if I had an option for trash removal. I couldn’t find anything other than a large barrel. Why I could sell barrels in a dungeon, I don’t know. While that would give me a place to throw the trash, it didn’t help the current situation.

  Unexpectedly I finally found something lurking within my Bookkeeping section. There was an option for a Loss Calculator Bracelet. I selected it and was instantly equipped with a band of dull silver on my left wrist. It was flush against my skin as if it were a part of me, unable to be removed. The interface actually came with instructions on how to use it thankfully. Just point my wrist towards whatever needed to be calculated as a loss, swipe the bracelet with two fingers toward the items and the losses would be removed and tallied in the books. It didn’t make much sense, as a trash removal function would have been preferred, but if it works it works.

  I checked the Bookkeeping section and took another knife to the heart. In the top corner the bar showing the store funds had changed:

  Store Funds 0P -2G -50S -16C

  And thus my goal of buying the CD drew further into the distance. I really regretted upping the prices now. If I had just waited I could have gotten away with just about a single gold deficit. Now, well, now I’ll just have to sell even harder to catch up.

  I sat back down and grabbed one of the stamina potions, downing it in one go. Admittedly that is not saying much as those were tiny, barely a mouthful. Effective though. I was always warned that drinking too many could make your heart explode. I didn’t want to add to my deficit so I tried something. The bottle was small so I just tried to push it out of the slot in the glass. It almost got stuck, but with a soft kick it popped through and landed on the ground outside the window. I know I’m not supposed to leave detritus around and care about workplace cleanliness. But with everything else, I just couldn’t bother.

  With renewed energy from the potion I sat down and resumed my vigil for the first adventurers. They should be coming any minute now. Yes, any minute.

  They did not appear until about a month later and when they did, I learned some rather concerning things about our new home. Flak you Garthixian, flak you twice over.