Chapter 11: Chapter 11: Today a plan is built in the same fashion as the floors, one step at a time

“Dungeons? I love them. You know how often I’ve slept in a dungeon, for free? More times than I can count.

Hell, I spent my twenties sleeping in the dungeon every night.

Dangerous? Yes.

Is it not a great pull for the ladies? No, it certainly is not. Unless you have a thing for the killer-eyes types.

Was it worth clearing a few floors to sleep safely on floor one every night, by the dungeon-gate?

I didn’t pay rent for ten years, so you tell me.

Plus with the loot from the stuff I killed, I could go buy breakfast every day. Not a bad deal, right?

Sure, there’s always the risk of a dungeon-breech and a bunch of level fifty monsters rushing the gate. But, well, it didn’t happen for the ten years that I was there. You may as well be worried about lightning, if you’re worried about that.

Take it with a grain of salt, though. Dungeons have different tempers.

Would I try to take as much as a catnap in the deadlight-graveyard, to the northwest?

Hell no.

Now, the southern fairy dungeon? Count me in. There’s some prime napping to be had there. That dungeon has a good attitude about life.

What I’m saying is, don’t just pick your battles. Pick your beds too.”