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When I received communication from Athrilla, I was most intrigued by her proposition. She had discovered a hitherto unmapped passage under the kobold holdings that pointed to a constructed work that was evidently the remains of a previous civilization. So, I quickly endeavored to join her in an expedition.

The galaxy-scaled kobold made for an excellent companion in the lonely treks down beneath civilized lands. We, too, had made many adventures and satisfying excursions that I have written in other pamphlets. This matter, though, concerns our strange discovery.

We two knew that the civilization was long since dead. Of course, that meant that all manufactured goods made of organic compounds were long-sense replaced with the overgrowth of the natural cave flora. However, we did find ourselves coming across a most peculiar sight--that of a single chest, made of wood, no less!

"Must be from up world," Athrilla said, glancing up.

I surmised she was looking for someplace this box would have fallen from. The likelihood of such an occurrence was quite impossible. No, the chest would have been deliberately placed here in the middle of what was most likely the town's square.

"Perhaps, it is magic," I said, "and if that's the case, I should have to observe and analyze its properties before we attempt to move it. This is obviously some sort of bait, of course. Rather simplistic, really." I pulled out my notebook to examine the strange box. The curiosity of my companion must have gotten the better of her. She was already lifting the lid of the curious chest and marveling at the inside. She was in there, kicking her feet as she fell into the opened maw of the box.

My annoyance and slight admiration of her assets soon gave way to a frightened flinging at the chest when it slammed tightly shut upon her. Its wooden frame melted and warped, revealing to me its nefarious nature.

I switched my spell to a stunning attack, aiming straight at the lid. The concussive force knocked it back, opening itself wide and revealing the teeth that lined the edges of the box and the wet and pulsating insides. This was indeed no ordinary trap.

It was a mimic.

Mimics are quite voracious, and they are pretty intelligent, knowing how to hunt nearby creatures through careful observation and deduction. Some have postulated that a few of the more powerful of their kind actually can read the minds of their prey. I hesitate to say that this specimen was gifted in that regard, as it chose a most evident and mundane method of tricking adventurers.

I reached into the chest, seeing that the mimic's pseudopods had started their ill work upon Arhrilla. They wrapped around her, sliding up and down along her thighs, covering her in the ooziness of its saliva. I was about to haul her out when, to my dismay, I felt the warm and wriggling mass encroach around my waist. It pulled me in and shut me within the box along with my companion.

Even for as small of creatures as we were, the space inside the mimic was relatively compact. We squirmed and kicked and clawed at what we could, but it was no use. Mimics have, after all, evolved to trap their prey after the initial lure had been sprung.

All that was left for us to do was to lament our fate, and lament we did.

"Sorry, Athy!" I whined. "I should have been faster.

"My fault, Tik Tik," she moaned back.

The muscles of the mimic ceased, leaving us to sit in the warm, moist maw for only a moment before the beast spat us out into a slimy pile on the ground.

Through its lid of a mouth came grumbling words. "Tik Tik... the sex mage?"

I scrambled to my feet, wiping my snout to remove a particularly thick glob of saliva off. "This Tik Tik, yes," I responded in the underground speech.

Two long arms erupted from the mimic, waggling wildly in the air. "I'm a big fan! Oh, Great Gloratus, this is a dream come true!"

"Tik Tik famous," Athrilla said, adjusting her coverings, which had left little to the imagination. Not that I needed any to know what was underneath of them.

"Yes, I am," I replied, flicking more gunk off a horn. "Tik Tik, uh, happy meet meet."

Reaching into its mouth, the mimic pulled out a small bound volume and a pen. You see, mimics can be great protectors and guardians if they do not mind stuffing themselves with inanimate objects.

"Can you sign my copy of "Slime Study"? The prose was so enveloping!"

I was tickled, actually, by the mimic's devotion to my work. So, we set upon having such an excellent little discussion on the nature of the city and the vast riches that remain hidden deep within.

Unfortunately, that trek had to be cut short, as our provisions did not last us long enough for the journey deeper within. I would like to thank Athrilla for guiding me down to that hidden place and our new friend for telling us much more about the civilization's lore. I hope that I shall make it back down there to discover ancient mysteries and perhaps even some new fans one day!