During a heavy snowstorm, 1885 arrives.

January kicks the year off fast and hard, with a lot happening, mostly internationally. The French are pushing the Chinese back on all fronts. The British reached Khartoum and relieved the siege, rescuing General Gordon. Irish nationalists tried to blow up a tower in London with dynamite, but were prevented. The US Marshal Service and the Cowboys engaged in several running fights during the month, leading to nearly thirty deaths combined.

In February, the United States government protested the expansion of the British naval base in the Hawaiian Islands. King Leopold II of Belgium announced that he would retain the colony of the Congo for the benefit of the Belgian people. Finally, the outgoing president dedicated the Washington Monument in Washington, D.C.

Of course, other things are happening internationally and locally, but nothing else catches my attention. There is one final thing to add: the US Marshal Service went through a bit of a shake-up and announced two new ranks within the organisation: Deputy Marshal and Senior Marshal. The deputy marshals are drawn from local men who have served with the Marshal service in the enforcement of the Law, but they have now taken on the position as a full-time role and are working towards the rank of full Marshal. Senior Marshals run locales or specific operations within states or even counties, depending on the level of crime.

This might impact me in the future, but there was not much I could do about it right now, so I didn't concern myself. With the start of March, I am overlooking my Dungeon from my favourite spot at the top of the spatial bubble. Overall, I am pleased with my Dungeon and its progress. In hindsight, I still believe that my first few years here saw me expand too quickly.

The Dungeon is now a two-mile circular area, a mile from the church to the gate. The maze layout of the paths has increased in complexity and density, with surface tombs, mausoleums, statues, and graves now blocking a direct route to the church. Two miles is a substantial area for anything, especially a graveyard; it spans over 1,200 acres. If I remember correctly —and I eventually checked to make sure —Arlington National Cemetery is half the size of my Dungeon.

Just how many people could be buried here?

With the kill count at 14 out of 80 so far, I knew I was not looking at a new level for quite possibly a few years. The massive firefight damaged the church, and I could only repair a small amount of it using [Hide the Crime!]. The winter weather had caused some damage to the inside of the building, particularly to the smashed windows, the altar, and the statue, with only a few parts remaining unaffected. Sure, both had extensive bullet scars from impacts and ricochets, but the weather had not touched them yet.

I did a rough calculation and knew there were at least 140 bodies at the very least now buried within my Dungeon. I could go down and count them all to get the exact amount, but I couldn't be bothered. Roberson was the most active of my hunters, as I sent him out on various small tasks for me, mostly tracking Archibald Myers's business movements in the surrounding area. It seemed he wasn't making any overt moves toward my Dungeon, but I would not bet on it in the future.

The biggest news in March was a clash between the British and Russian empires on the British Indian frontier. Tensions quickly escalated, but the Kaiser called a diplomatic meeting in Berlin to resolve the issue. The Anglo-German treaty also emerged later in the year, resolving several colonial problems they had during the scramble for Africa, including an agreement not to violate each other's territories. The other two members of the three-emperor alliance eventually agreed to it.

Canada had issues with several Native American tribes during this time. Still, due to the large number of natives throughout the northwest and central territories displaced from the South, they could resolve the problems without bloodshed.

It was at the end of April that I got my next visitor to the Dungeon. A man rode up from the dirt road along the path through the trees to the gates. I spent the last few weeks getting the flower beds ready for replanting, and it was one of the few days I decided not to work on them. This allowed me to spot him as he approached.

He dismounted before the gates and took the horse to a nearby tree. He was dressed ruggedly, but strangely, he did not have any visible firearms. He pulled a wooden stick or bat wrapped in barbed wire from the horse's pack. He walked in through the gates and stood before the plinth. I watched him as he read over the inscription and then turned and started walking South.

[A Challenger has entered your Dungeon.]

That has now limited my options.

I took a closer look at him. He was in his mid-30s and white. He had brown hair and a brown beard and wore a cowboy hat on his head—a Stenson, I believe it was called. He wore a long coat and carried a bat wrapped in barbed wire in his hand. I did not know if he had any other weapons hidden under the coat, as I couldn't see them.

McGregor's territory was the first he was going to wander into. My Hunters were stirring in my Dungeon with the notification that the Challenger was present. I decided to settle back and watch after Challenger wandered through my Dungeon.

I had not seen McGregor, knowing he was looking for the Challenger. I felt the training I had been getting them to go through in understanding the Dungeon's layout would now benefit him more.

The Challenger was doing his best to navigate the increased complexity of the maze of the Dungeon. The quick routes cutting through the Dungeon were mainly closed off now, so he had to follow the pathways. Progress was being made, but slowly. He made a few false turns and was forced to double back. It was during the second time he was returning to the main path that I noticed McGregor had found him.

The last time anyone was in the Dungeon and McGregor stalked him alone, he was a little kill-shy. He had killed since then, but I wondered if he was confident enough to handle this one on his own. Watching him, he seemed more willing to get involved this time. If he had not, I would have taken action later. He could avoid intruders, but not Challengers.

It was late afternoon, and the Dungeon was becoming darker. It was not the cause of the sun's position as such, but as the Dungeon was now far more congested with structures, the places where deep shadows or darkness could form quickly increased. McGregor used this to his advantage, keeping out of sight and moving from dark patch to dark patch.

I noticed the Hateful Spirit was also out and about more often in the early morning and evening. As her lair was close to the walls, they also contributed to the formation of shadows and dark patches.

I realised I was getting distracted and refocused on what was happening.

We were now approaching the edge of McGregor's territory, and I wondered if he would make a move. I should've had the answer as he was now angling towards his prey, approaching from behind to ambush him. His blade was drawn and hunched over low, and he moved as quickly and quietly as possible.

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Alas, this did not work out as well as he hoped. Somehow, his opponent became aware of his approach and spun to meet him. What he was hoping would turn into a simple ambush was now a fight. And he was at a disadvantage, as the Challenger had his what I was going to call a bat wrapped in barbed wire, which gave him the ability to strike at longer distances.

Which, unfortunately for McGregor, he did. There were no exclamations of surprise or questioning of who he was. The Challenger just attacked. He swung in with the bat, and McGregor was forced to block it with his left arm. However, his heavy clothing protected him from some of the possible damage he would have taken. It did not stop him from grunting in pain, and I could see blood flowing from some minor injuries caused by the wire cutting through material and flesh. I didn't think his arm was broken, but it was bruised.

McGregor used the opportunity to step in and attempt to stab his opponent. However, the Challenger could step back quickly and avoid the blade thrust. This Challenger knew what he was doing and used his weapon to his advantage, keeping the distance between them.

Two more strikes quickly hit McGregor, and he used his arms to block them. From the impacts, I knew he was in danger of suffering a break if things kept up the way they were. I couldn't interfere, but I knew he had to change his tactics or he would lose this one.

It seemed that he knew as well and did something desperate. Ignoring all pretences of defence, he charged forward straight at the Challenger. This caught him by surprise, as he was not expecting it, and finally allowed McGregor to get close enough to use his blade. He knew this was his only opportunity and stabbed forward with his blade multiple times into the gut of the Challenger.

The man screamed, but then was soon coughing up blood as his stomach had been punctured many times. He collapsed back with McGregor on top of him, still stabbing away. I knew this fight was over and just awaited the notification.

[A Hunter has made a Kill.]

"And there it is."

McGregor stood covered in blood from his kill. He favoured his left arm, and I suspected he was far more injured than I had realised.

"McGregor, can you deal with the body?"

He looked at his arm, lifting it and flexing it. He was grimacing the whole time, and he shook his head.

"No, Keeper, I think it might be broken." Was his frank assessment.

"Alright, I'll get the others to deal with the body and his horse outside. Head back to your lair and get healed."

He simply nodded and headed off while I rounded up the other Hunters and got them to work. There was a little grumbling, but they got to work. Roberson was the happiest as he took one of the Challenger's legs for himself.

What little the Challenger had was split up, favouring McGregor as he had made the kill. It took him just over 20 hours to heal, but he took his cut as soon as he was, and all the hunters retired to their lairs.

May passes with little happening. I had spent the month watching the Hateful Spirit and her movement habits. I had noticed before that she was a bit more active and only retired when the sun was over the walls. I wondered what the long-term effects of this would be. If I increased the size of the mausoleums along with the next time I levelled, she would have spent even longer outside due to the increased number of areas of shade and darkness.

An interesting question, to be sure, but one I could not answer just yet, so I turned my attention back to my flower beds.

June dominates the calendar. The arrival of the Statue of Liberty in New York Harbour is a significant event. The city and nation are abuzz with its installation, which the press hails as one of the outstanding achievements and representations of modern democracy. New York celebrates its arrival with a large and lavish party.

I received another visitor in the early evening of the last day of June.

[A Challenger has entered your Dungeon.]

"What another one!"

I spent the day in the church reviewing weapons and other items outside my wealth. I was starting to build up quite a collection of US Marshal badges, and I am not proud of this.

I shifted my attention to the gates and found another man had entered the Dungeon and was heading north along the path. Another white man, this time cleanly shaven but dressed in sturdy-looking clothes. He carried an axe, and I saw several knives attached to his belt. Across his back, he was strapped a pack with a water canteen attached to it. He, too, wore a hat, but this time his blonde hair stuck out from under it.

The sun was fast approaching the mountains, and the Dungeon was starting to darken. I looked around and realised it was now dark enough for the hateful Spirit to emerge. He was progressing steadily along the path and would soon enter her hunting area. As he was a recognised challenger, I had to sit back and wait to see what would happen.

He reached the outskirts of her hunting domain and crossed into it, oblivious to the danger. He was still skirting the edge of the dungeon wall and hadn't made any turns to take him deeper. This was a mistake, as the mausoleums on the wall cast a shadow over his entire area. I wondered if the Spirit was aware of his presence until I saw the faint glow a short distance away.

"Here we go."

She appeared in her non-threatening form and seemed to be walking amongst the gravestones, which hid the fact that she wasn't making contact with the ground. The Challenger quickly spotted her and became very wary.

"Smart, not taking anything for granted."

He got closer and attempted to engage her in conversation, but she turned her attention to him. I said she was trying to use her seduction abilities on him, but it did not seem to be working. She moved a little closer to him, and when he drew away, she attacked.

Her sudden change and scream of hate disoriented the Challenger. She was on him before he could defend himself, and he was torn to pieces. She started with his clothing and quickly reached his torso. Skin and blood and soon organs were flying through the air in different directions as she clawed him with a frenzied desire to inflict harm.

[A Hunter has made a Kill.]

Even after his death, she continued to claw and mutilate the body. The Spirit did not stop until she had totally desecrated the remains. Only then did it wander away, heading back towards her lair—the follow-up notification I got explained why, as she was now about to level.

I waited until she returned to her lair and got the Hunters to clean up the remains and deal with the horse. This time, it was an equal split, but there was very little again.

The next day, the Spirit was again sighted in the northern section of the Dungeon. I opened her character sheet to see what was different now.

Hunter Name

Hateful Spirit (Mary Johnstone)

Level

3

Kills

0/12

Perks

 

Loyalty

Hateful

Spirit Form (Rare)

Seduction (Common)

Death Shriek (Common)

Talons (Common)

Dark Traits

Hateful Spirit! I

"Talons?"

I opened the description and found that when she went into attack mode, her hands were no longer claws but full-blown talons. They were capable of inflicting far more damage than just her extended fingernails and could even cut through wood, given time. This replaced her claws on her status sheet as they were an upgrade to them.

This new perk made her far more dangerous when she crossed the distance and was close in. I would have to make sure that the other Hunters did not approach this area unless I was with them. They did this now, but I couldn't risk an altercation between the Spirit and them. I knew she disturbed them, so they avoided the area anyway.

I contacted him, informed him of the change in Spirit, and warned them to stay away unless I was with them personally. Their responses confirmed my suspicions that they were quite happy never to come to this hunting area.

"Well, it's been a busy year so far!"

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