The generally accepted rift themes are: Conquest, Exploration, Puzzle, Self Development, Pressure Advancement, Mystery, Interactive Story, Mind Swap, Simulated Reality, Tutorial Lite

  This is not to suggest any given rift may only have a single theme, often they are combined in multiples to describe the rift to those who have not yet delved it. Further, there are non-standard categories which are sometimes refereed to as tags. These might include things like ‘undead’, ‘role reversal’, ‘existential’ and so on. Tags, in conjunction with categories, may be used to form a guess as to what one might expect going into a previously explored rift.

  

  Willow

  Third Room, Sheerna

  

  “OOooh! Welcome dearie! I’m so glad you finally made it, I was starting to worry that little greenie was bullying you. She likes to do that sometimes.” The voice of the huge granny they’d watched feed the cats twice a day for four and a half days beamed down at them.

  Willow muttered to the side, “Is this how you always feel, Ravvy?”

  Ignoring the elbow he planted in her left hip, Willow smiled up, “Sorry for being late! Actually, we didn’t know you were expecting us. We uh-.” She stopped as she felt a subtle poke from her right.

  Glancing at Luzzi, she saw her subtly shaking her head. Ahhh… Don’t be too honest I guess? Don’t talk about not knowing where we are?

  Reaching a massive hand down, the old woman gently patted the top of Willow’s head. The hand was large enough to easily wrap around Willow entirely. Going by the box of cans the lady brought to her cats every day, she was willing to bet her weight also wouldn’t be a challenge. So, she just accepted the somewhat humiliating head pat.

  “There, there, I forget things sometimes too. Now come, you three are still going to help me with my rat problem, aren’t you?”

  Looking toward her right, she saw Luzzi tail wrapping around her waist as she called up, “We would be happy to provide aid. What was the problem, again?”

  “I always forget what a polite little lady you are!” The grandma chuckled. Willow wondered if it’d be rude to ask her what her name was. It felt weird thinking of her constantly as ‘cat lady’ or ‘old woman’ or ‘the grandma’. Of course, if Luzzi is concerned about us revealing we didn’t plan to come here… It might not be a good idea to admit we don’t know who she is.

  Ravvy, unbothered by simple things like caution and party-member warnings via body language, asked, “Why not just set your cats on them?”

  “Oooh I could never! The poor dearies might get hurt! You know how rough that little rat man and his friends can be. Now, now, to little fluffy dear’s question. I hear little rat paws slapping around at all times of the day and night. Up in the attic, in the walls, down in the basement. It’s horrible! To make matters worse, when I ask nicely the little varmints laugh at me! Can you imagine, the absolute gall!? To laugh at a poor old woman who just wants peace in her own house!” The poor old woman slapped a palm on the island she was standing beside, producing a sound not dissimilar to a cannon shot.

  Eyes drawn from the giant, Willow quickly scanned the room they’d entered. Like the previous room, everything was scaled up to a much larger than human scale. It was even more noticeable now, given the kitchen counter-tops were well out of reach. A bit higher than eye level sat large brass handles, the cabinets attached to them large enough for two Willows to walk shoulder-to-shoulder into one once opened.

  Thinking about the previous room, Willow wondered if the scales were even the same. The couch had been very large, letting two tigers to each comfortably sit on one section, but she’d have been able to hop onto one easily enough. Was the last room scaled to the cats, not the lady?

  That question lead to a another, Is she larger in here than she was before? The cat walks were maybe three and a half meters from the floor, but I’d bet granny here is at least three meters tall. When we looked down on her and the cats, though, she didn’t seem that close. The incongruity was beginning to give Willow a bit of a headache.

  “Yeah, that’s very rude.” Ravvy answered when neither of the others stepped in immediately. “Should we get started now?”

  Oddly, the little alien seemed excited by the prospect. Though, Willow couldn’t blame him. The prospect of a clear cut goal such as “kill a bunch of rats” was pretty enticing. Especially since they could be loud! No more sneaking around! The thought almost sent her into a bit of a dance.

  “Oh, no, dearies! I’ll make you some dinner and cookies, first. What kind of monster would I be to let my poor poor grand children go to have a chat with those rats on an empty stomach?” Chat? Oh please no. Please, please, please just let them be viscous rodents!

  They were not, in fact, just viscous rodents. Dinner had been a hearty roast, beef and veggies galore. Desert followed as promised, an absolutely massive chocolate cookie which Willow shared with Luzzi and Ravvy both and still failed to finish. To wash it all down, giant grandma gave them little mugs of a delightfully dark tea. The cups she gave them looked like doll toys in her massive hands, but were just slightly oversized to Willow and Luzzi. To Ravvy, the cup was like a novelty toy you might get at a Texas gas station selling ‘everything’s bigger in Texas’ souvenirs.

  The fact the mugs all had printed phrases made it all even stranger. With sayings like, “My other mug is a skull”, “I’d rather be slaying goblins” and “My guild hall’s bigger than your guild hall.”

  The feeling of strangeness just kept getting stronger. The entire thing felt like a joke. Other than the sponge-floor trap at the beginning, none of this felt right. The whole giant cat lady thing, the incredibly frustrating and anticlimactic realization of who Jemin had been in the last room, and now this.

  Having climbed the uncomfortably large staircase in the garage up to the attic, the party found themselves staring at a medieval style portcullis. A large rat-like humanoid stood to either side, wearing late roman styled armor and holding spears. Seeing them approach, the one on the left side stepped forward and barked out in an obnoxious screeching voice, “HALT, HUMAN! State your business with the great and glorious kingdom of ratakan!”

  With a muttered, “This is so stupid.” Willow stepped forward toward the guards without answering.

  I’ll just go take those spears from them and- her thought was interrupted as she felt a fur-claw hand grasp her wrist. Seeing Willow had stopped and was waiting, Luzzi spoke softly, “Odd rifts like this are dangerous. They generally become much more difficult if the delvers fail to follow the obvious script. This seems to be an ‘Interactive Story’ type of rift. There are many paths which may be chosen, but the most obvious one is generally the easiest.”

  Pulling her arm away, Willow seethed silently for a moment. Taking a few deep breaths, she channeled the bubbling frustration, the irritation, the sensation of being stifled, all into her focus. Once calmed, she nodded and gestured for Luzzi to take the lead. For now, she’d just stand here and push all of the negative emotions into her ability. At this moment, they’d just all return as strong as before as soon as she let the ability go.

  Usually, her anger was like most of her emotions. Fast, bright, but ultimately ephemeral. This smoldering emotion was relatively new, but she recognized it. It was the same as she’d felt after learning Madrick was the one fighting against her as she tried to climb that mountain. Shoving it all down, Willow forced herself to remain in her focus.

  Slowly taking steps, she kept channeling her emotions into the ability. It was difficult. She’d been practicing off and on since she’d arrived into the world. Yet it was still incredibly hard to keep the ability from stuttering out. It didn’t want to be used to convert emotion to mana while she was moving. It wanted to be used to do things while she was moving.

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  Ignoring whatever it was Luzzi was saying to get the stupid rat-people to let them into their silly little keep, Willow pushed her ability. Forcing it to do as she willed. My ability channels instruction and discipline mana, for crying out loud! It should do as I want! Be disciplined, Willow!

  Arriving beside Luzzi, she ignored Ravavka as he threw her looks which might be amusement or might be concern. At the moment, she didn’t have the attention to try and decipher his weird expressions. “…Well I guess you can go see the king, but you’ll have to leave your weapons here!”

  “I assure you, we have no weapons.” Luzzi lied smoothly. Ravavka had an extending spear on his belt which looked like an innocuous tube, Luzzi had two daggers hidden somewhere on her, and Willow had her gloves. They were all armed.

  An insufferable squeak seemed to be a sound of satisfaction, as the portcullis slowly rose. Eyes trained on Luzzi’s furry back, Willow followed while continuing to channel her emotions into her focus. It was getting easier, but still felt unnatural. Wrong. Yet another thing that feels wrong. Everything feels wrong in this stupid dungeon. Even myself.

  Doing her best to put the emotion-channeling on the back burner, Willow glanced around as they walked. Hundreds of rat people strode about, appearing busy. All of them were equipped with some form of weapon and most were armored. Oh good, we were asked to disarm ourselves before entering a city of fully armed rats. How reasonable and not at all two faced.

  The buildings, if they could be called that, were all simple boxed wood which created partitions of the oversized attic. Not a single rat entered or exited any of the building as they walked, so far as Willow noticed. Many squeaked greetings at the guard who was leading them and several sneered or even snarled at the three intruders he was leading. How can hundreds of rat people fit in an attic? There’s no way. This attic has already taken us longer to walk down than the trip down the old lady’s hallway to the garage.

  Once more feeling like things weren’t adding up, Willow chalked it up to ‘rifts are weird’ for now. Though, none of the guides she’d read or the advice she’d been given had suggested that an apparently connected narrative would have clear gaps and impossibilities. The ‘Interactive Story’ type rifts Luzzi mentioned usually put the delvers in the role of a single character or a troupe and they would be pushed along a kind of prearranged plot.

  This didn’t feel like that. This felt more like they were being fed nonsense to keep them busy. Why would a rift do that? Could it be a kind of test of patience or something? We’ve been getting xp for finishing rooms, so we’re definitely running a rift and doing well enough to be considered ‘passing’ the trials.

  Staggering, Willow gasped as she lost hold of her ability. All of the negativity rushed back in full force. She shoved it down. I’ve dealt with strong emotions all my life. It’s fine. She told herself firmly as she searched for the cause of the burning sensation currently racing through her entire body. Momentarily falling into her soul nexus, she saw her entire dojo was shining like a beacon and the cause was obvious. Too much mana.

  Immediately channeling her discipline mana into her body, she stood back up. Feeling her dojo was still overfilled, she pushed the mana out of her body, letting it run like an open faucet. The mana hung about her, still hers and yet disconnected. Unlike Naomi’s cloud of dark mana, hers seemed to be invisible to the naked eye, and instead of a cloud it clung together like a thick viscous liquid which was drawn to itself. Every speck of the discipline mana soon sat in a glob which floated behind Willow like an obedient animal.

  Hearing a laughing squeak of, “Jojo! Your pet fell down, beat her for being stupid!” Her head snapped around and red rage flared at the edge of her vision. Pushing through it, she restarted the process of channeling her emotions into focus. Head clearing, she now had even more to pay attention to.

  Resuming her robotic walk behind Luzzi and Ravavka, Willow intentionally pushed the overflowing discipline out of her body and let it follow her. She had a sense that it could be released, if she wanted to let it go, and it’d just dissipate. Its nature, though, was to stay and do as she told it to. It was an interesting discovery, as she’d never really tried to keep any mana outside of her body for a long period. At least this is an opportunity to see how long it’ll stick around.

  Bumping softly into Luzzi, who had stopped in front of her, Willow realized she was staring down at her feet and picked her head up. They were standing before what looked like throne made of scrap wood, random bones, bits of plastic, and other junk.

  Squatting on the throne was another rat man. His feet were on the chair, chest resting against his bent knees. One finger was on his lips as long teeth gnawed on one of the huge overgrown nails which passed as claws for these creatures. The claw he was gnawing was particularly blackened, appearing to be covered entirely in dirt or soot.

  The entire figure was covered in some kind of slimy mess, the stench of which was overwhelming even a dozen paces away. The guard that had lead them squeaked in his irritating voice, “Great king! I bring you tributes!”.

  Beady black eyes flicking over them, they settled back to watching its snout as it gnawed. The cross eyed king continued to ignore them. The flare of outrage, annoyance, and just pure disbelief that this was an intentional story roared through Willow and broke out of her control. Her eyes locked on the king as vision blurred toward red.

  A single step. Another. She could break that stupid, arrogant, squeaking creature with a single strike. A memory of the same range, the same outrage, leading her to hitting Madrick flashed through her mind. A moment which had seemed so sweet for a brief moment, until she realized it’d been useless. She broke her own hand and hadn’t harmed the target of her anger at all.

  Redoubling her efforts, she once more began filtering her emotions and converting them to mana. “Great king.” Luzzi spoke in her characteristically soothing, velvety, voice.

  “We come to plead that you and your people respect the lady who lives in the house which you’re occupying.”

  The rat king laughed. Snorting, gasping, groaning, coughing. Its laugh was disgusting. The squeaking guard who had brought them joined in. Feeling herself about to lose control yet again, Willow pulled all of the discipline which was floating behind her forward and wrapped it around her. Sending the barest tendril of instruction mana into the mass, she demanded, Control yourself.

  Suddenly, the process became simple. Her emotions shunted off into the funnel easily, the tunnel vision she hadn’t noticed cleared, and she could think clearly again. Even pushing the mana from her body as it overflowed her capacity was trivial.

  Stepping forward, a manufactured smile flashed onto her lips, “King rat, if you don’t the lady will probably let her cats come play with you. She sent us to warn you, not ask. My friend here just doesn’t want to anger someone as clearly… Glorious… As you.”

  Not even the outrage and self-disgust she felt at addressing the glutenous rat that way was enough to break her discipline now. What a good discovery. I better not get too dependent on this, though… The control seems too artificial.

  Waving one of its slime-covered nasty little paws, the king snarled, “Toss in jails. Will talk later.”

  Looking at Luzzi, she saw her tail dropped and her ears flat. She seemed resigned to an annoying time. Turning, Ravavka looked similarly annoyed but ultimately resigned. They were both going to follow this path. They assumed this story required them to be jailed. How far would they let it go? If the rats decided to torture them for a bit? Have their way with them? When would they fight back?

  Needing more information, Willow stepped into her moment of focus. For the first time, she even managed to keep channeling her emotions into mana, keeping her mana topped off even while using it. Only her instruction mana drained, though very slowly. Sending a small tendril of the later mana to both of her party members, she excluded them from her ability’s effect. It failed.

  I should have thought to try this before. The thought came with a burst of immediately converted annoyance. Trying several more things, Willow finally figured it out by thinking back to her final fight with the pop-hopper boss. It had moved within her ability’s influence after she hit it with an imperative command. She thought that had been because she was limiting her ability, trying to conserve her mana, but doing the same thing now didn’t seem to work.

  Reaching out, she touched Ravavka and Luzzi each and sent a simple command, “Be free”. They immediately started looking around, curious. Feeling Willow’s hand, Ravavka immediately pulled away and frowned at her. Luzzi, on the other hand looked concerned.

  They both realized the situation quickly enough and Willow spoke before they could ask their own questions, “Why are you so sure this is an Interactive Story dungeon? And if it is one, why aren’t you fighting against it? You said there should be multiple paths.”

  Looking at each other for a moment, Ravavka answered, “We recognize the story. It’s a story called, ‘The Adventurer’s Folly’. It’s a pretty common fable about an adventurer who does everything the ‘safe’ and ‘gentle’ way.”

  Nodding, she waited for the rest of her question to be answered. Luzzi picked up that part, “You can make small choices in an interactive story. We could have told the rat guards we’re here to give the rat king a gift, for example. Or we could have possibly caught Jemin’s illusion somehow. Or maybe we could have given up the game with her entirely, and in admitting defeat ‘win’ by figuring out that she was the sorcharas all along. If we had tried to attack the cats, or if we try to attack the rats here, though, we’re no longer following the story at all. Therefore, the dungeon doesn’t have to follow any of the story’s rules either. There’s no way to know how, exactly, it will react. Usually, they react by becoming hostile and kill the delvers who mess up the story.”

  “So rifts are sentient?”

  “Not that we know, we don’t know why it works like that.”

  “Why didn’t you recognize the Adventurer’s Folly story when we ended up in a room full of cats?” Willow asked, still trying to decide if there was a chance they were wrong about this being an interactive story. Or, barring that, if they were wrong about which story it was.

  Ravavka snorted, “It’s more of an adaptation, not exact. Rifts don’t steal anything word-for-word, but patterns, intentions, arcs, all of those it has no problem picking up. I didn’t recognize the story until the old human fed us. The start of the second ‘quest’ in Adventurer’s Folly begins with him being fed by a demon and sent to parlay with its kin to leave his land.”

  Beginning to feel the strain of maintaining so much, Willow asked urgently, “Does he get put in a cell? For how long? A night?”

  Another quick glance between her party members, and Luzzi answered softly, “A year.”

  “Yeah,” Ravavka sighed. “So if you can control yourself, we have a guaranteed victory in around a year. It’s annoying, but hardly that long for a newly advanced rift.”

  A mischievous glint entered his eyes as he continued, “Or you can let that temper of yours go and we can probably all die.”

  “Oh, good, that makes this simple then.”

  Both of them relaxed as Willow released her ability. A bright, genuine, smile appeared on Willow’s face. The smile burned with fury and frustration, and the joy pent up emotion let loose.

  “I make my own path.”

  A quick, hard, jab to the face of the rat guard as he stepped toward them to ‘toss in jails’ and the rodent became a dead rodent.