Anticipation was a fickle thing. It built and built and built to a crescendo and then suddenly it vanished, only to be replaced by ire or boredom or, even worse, indifference.

  Marie Dubois wasn't quite at the point where she’d ceased to care what was in the chest, not by a long shot, but by the fifth day after she'd figured out how to open it she was thoroughly done with waiting for others to run the hundred safety tests they wanted to do.

  “Mon Dieu, can I just open it already; nothing we have done has even set off my [Dangersense].”

  The brows of the [Chief Librarian] and [Lieutenant] drew down as they straightened up from inspecting the material of the chest. A material that seemed to drink in the light.

  “[Dangersense] can be fooled, Miss Dubois,” the guard said with a weary sigh, having explained it more than once before, “but at this point I think that we've run out of safeguards to test. I can't find any objections to opening it.”

  Marie blinked as Lady Kypria nodded.

  “Wait, really?”

  The [Chief Librarian] ran a hand through hair that had grown more frazzled by the day, though still in a far better state than it had been after the devastating battle against the southern [Soldiers] the week before.

  “Beyond moving it a few miles outside the city I can't think of any reasonable measures to take before we investigate its secrets, and I won't ask you to do that. I've had [Arcanavist] Tiluth ward one of the rooms with all the spells she knows…ah, her ears must have been burning.”

  Standing in the doorway, having just opened it, Intressa Tiluth glanced around the trio inside.

  “Sorry if I'm disturbing, but I received a missive from the King’s Council for Marie. It looks like bad news but I thought it best that she got it immediately.”

  She held out a scroll and Marie took it and withdrew the main letter, scanning it in a few seconds. Then she began to smile.

  “Jamais deux sans trois. Today is a fortuitous one. I assure you, Intressa, this is good news for Wayfarrow.” She glanced between the chest and scroll case before murmuring “I wonder what the third will be…”

  Before the others could question her, she clapped her hands, wincing as her still-healing wounds reminded her why that was a bad idea, and drew their attention back to the object that had both unnerved and fascinated them all for so long.

  “Shall we?”

  —

  The side room that they brought the chest to be opened in was in fact the original room it had been placed in - when she’d been waylaid by the librarians and town watch both, questioned about The Ruins of Corratheon and the undead hound that had followed at her side.

  It seemed so long ago, and Napoleon was no longer with her; he was a pile of bones in her office back at the Adventurer’s Guild that she had failed to reanimate.

  She tried to banish the hurt to her heart. In some ways it was deeper than any injury that had been done to her body, though, there was a chance he could return. Her research had suggested that at least. Not like the others they’d lost in the battle…

  Shaking her head, she plastered a smile on her face as two lowly [Library Assistants] placed the chest on the table and Intressa chanted the last few precautions, [Lieutenant] Odoona leaving the room with the assistants. Just in case.

  “{Arcane Barrier}, {Heat Resistance}, {Chill Resistance}, {Toura’s Resilience}.”

  At the first, a pale light grew from runes carved into the floor - an aid to strengthen the warding - then a barrier snapped into place around Marie, Lady Kypria and the chest on the table, looking like nothing so much as a humungous soap bubble. With the contents of the box unknown, from the far side of the barrier Intressa layered as many protective spells as she knew on the two, and to Marie it felt as though the temperature of the room ceased to be, the air and her skin equalising in a strangely offputting manner, followed by a slight tenseness that ran across her body and a faint deadening of sensation. It was by no means a watertight defence against whatever they might find, but Intessa was the best Wayfarrow had, though that might not have been saying much. Nevertheless, Marie trusted the woman’s abilities, and she had a feeling the chest wasn’t dangerous.

  Not in an immediate way anyway. But, just in case…

  One hand fell to the pocket of her jacket and she tapped it to make sure Osric’s latest healing potion attempt was still there. It didn’t hurt to be prepared.

  She looked at Lady Kypria and waited for the nod.

  When it came, she took a deep breath, exhaled, and focused.

  [Glimpse of the Forgotten]

  A faint glow emanated from the front of the chest. An illumination only she could see.

  It had been so obvious - how to learn the secret to its opening - but it just hadn’t occurred to her until a comment from Intressa had prompted her mind to make the connection - the metaphorical click.

  The glowing lines formed the shape of a disembodied hand on the front of the chest.

  She’d used the Skill a dozen times over the past few days, making sure it didn’t change. It hadn’t, and she was fairly confident in her ability to copy its movements.

  But why take the risk?

  Her hand rose and pressed on the chest, resting inside the glowing outline, then moved with it as it began to trace a shape on the front of the box.

  “Make sure you-”

  “Extend my mana. I know.”

  Marie pushed aside Intressa’s nervous reminder, strangely muted from beyond the bubble, and focused on following the motions precisely.

  A week before she wouldn’t have known how to do it. Zut, she might not have even been able to do it. She'd only gained her bound spell and [Minor Necromantic Font] after stepping into the entry of the dungeon.

  Did I even have ‘mana’ before that?

  She'd certainly never had cause to try and manipulate the magic of this world until then, and without the few tomes and brief lessons with Intressa over the past few days, or the practice every night as she tried to fix Napoleon, she doubted she'd have much of a chance now.

  But she had been working on it. Really trying. And as she followed the ethereal hand she sent out a tendril of her mana to trace the same shape onto the front of the chest.

  Then, as the hand faded and she reached the end of the pattern, there was a click.

  An audible one this time.

  To her left, Lady Kypria sucked a breath past her teeth, practically vibrating with nervous energy, but she waited for Marie.

  It was her treasure after all.

  Forcibly suppressing a wince and the desire to lean back against a potential trap - her Skills remaining quiet - Marie put one hand on each side of the faint line that now revealed the boundaries of the lid, and lifted.

  …

  Whether through some quirk of the unknown material, or expert craftsmanship, the lid of the chest opened without a sound.

  “[Autonote]. There are no immediate traps laid on the opening of the chest.”

  Marie almost leapt out of her skin as Lady Kypria’s voice broke the deathly silence, and on the other side of the arcane bubble that surrounded them, a quill began to scratch at parchment as quickly as she spoke.

  The [Chief Librarian] gestured to Marie.

  “This is a continuation of the investigation on the chest retrieved from the Ruins of Corratheon. The date is the 14th of Falmune, A.o.R. 1182. Evening. The owner will retrieve any items contained within one at a time whilst myself, [Arcanavist] Tiluth, [Scholar] Benedict, [Archivist] Linea and [Lieutenant] Odoona evaluate the items and ascertain any potential threats.”

  The quill scribbled as Marie waited for it to finish, steeled herself and peered within.

  A cluster of jumbled objects were clumped in the base, visible under the flickering candlelight of the chandelier that hung above and the shifting luminescence of the {Arcane Barrier}, but the dark chest still seemed to drink it too much light, so Marie muttered her one and only spell.

  “{Ghost-Light}.”

  A sudden pale blue illuminated the contents much more clearly, and Marie hesitated, taking them in as she decided what to select first.

  Her eyes were drawn straight away to a book - a dark leather-bound tome that lay in the centre, but four vials scattered around it were almost as enticing, and from the colour they weren’t all the same. A lumpy velvet pouch was surely filled with coins, and a glimmer of gold in one corner had the look of a ring. There were a few fragments of coloured glass - something that had smashed? - and poking out under the book was a section of an ornate filigree frame that surrounded a gem - an amulet perhaps?

  And a dagger.

  Despite the vague sense of unease she got when she saw the last, none of the objects set her [Dangersense] ringing, and she made a decision.

  The pouch of coins clinked as she set it on the table, and both Lady Kypria and Intressa levelled disappointed stares at her.

  “What? I thought we would start with the simplest. You have already looked at coins from the city so this should be easy. Besides, I have to make sure you keep your interest until the end.”

  The [Chief Librarian] suppressed a sigh as she turned towards her subordinate.

  “Intressa, call the others in.”

  As the [Arcanavist] cracked the door in and summoned the helpers waiting outside, Lady Kypria continued making notes.

  “The first item appears to be a pouch of coins. The bag is of a dark material that resembles velvet at first glance. The weight is…” She stopped and looked at Marie, who hefted the bag and shrugged.

  “Normal.”

  Lady Kypria rolled her eyes.

  “...not noticeably different from expected standards. From the initial size, it would appear to contain around a hundred coins.”

  An older [Scholar] walked in, twig-like arms with protruding veins visible as he clasped his hands and rubbed them with nervous energy. A younger, blonde [Archivist] followed, with Odoona bringing up the rear. Once they were all in and the door closed, the chief pointed between them.

  “Intressa first, then Benedict, then Linea. [Lieutenant], if at any point something sets you off, shout out.”

  “Could we have the pouch opened, Lady Kypria? {Greater Appraisal} only works when I can see the target directly.”

  The chief gestured for Marie to do so, but kept an eye on Odoona for any warning.

  Marie wasn’t worried but, respectful of the age of the pouch, carefully opened the drawstring and slid a few shining pieces of silver onto the table.

  No alarm was raised, and when her [Dangersense] failed to go off once again, Marie picked one up and placed it on the palm of her hand, where it lay, heavy and cool, bringing it over to the edge of the {Arcane Barrier} for the others to see.

  “{Greater Appraisal}.”

  “{Detect Curse}”

  Bit late for that one…

  “-mpare Material], [Asc-”

  “-ana Sen-”

  “-tify Category]”

  As the Skills and spells flew, Lady Kypria leaned in from the side, keeping up a stream of commentary, weaving in the information the others provided.

  “The contents of the pouch are indeed coins. Pure silver in composition. Approximately a fifth larger than those currently used in Varethis. Handmade. Raw material value alone at least a gold each in today’s money. The coin analysed has a faint mana trace as do… at least two others. Mana signature appears to be the same. Uncertain class of magic, though no indication of issues from Watch representative suggest Illusory or Enchantment are not present. Suspect all coins are imbued with the same essence and effect; will confirm at a later date. Obverse shows the head of a man, along with the inscription [Comprehend Language]... [Magister Prime] Antorlipol III; Through Magic, Might. Benedict, do we know of any mention of him? His dates? Age of Silence, really? That makes sense I suppose. Which makes these coins at least…eleven and a half thousand years old! Not far from Corratheon’s fall perhaps. Reverse shows a skeletal hand holding a cup - no text visible on reverse or edge. Catalo-”

  Marie stood there - an overqualified mannequin - as they performed their checks. Despite the earlier attitudes, as soon as the analysis began their enthusiasm blossomed, and for the best part of an hour Marie got to relive the excitement of a historical find again. The only one not caught up in the fevered analysis and speculation was the Watch’s [Lieutenant], whose forced cough interrupted them not long after Marie’s stomach began to rumble.

  “If I may, Lady Kypria, I’m only on shift for another forty minutes or so. Are you intending to inspect any further items this evening or can I leave?”

  Longing eyes almost glued to the coins, after a quick discussion the assembled librarians agreed to check one more item before Odoona left. If Ununcia hadn’t sworn to [Watch Commander] Amit that she’d have a representative present for all new investigations, Marie suspected they’d have gone all night, with her getting cramp as she did her best impression of a storefront dummy, resisting the urge to itch underneath her glasses.

  But now she was in charge again, if only for a few moments, and she returned to the chest to make her next decision.

  Nothing that looks like it might take too long. They have enough to see them through to morning with the coins…

  When Marie withdrew her hands she held two vials, both the same shape and colour, and as she brought them over to the waiting team of analysts they bent forward to inspect them more closely, noses brushing up against the {Arcane Barrier}, almost banging heads.

  The flurry of spells and Skills were rolled out once more, but this time the answer was much quicker to come.

  “Healing potions.”

  Intressa’s judgement was backed up in moments by the other two, and Lady Kypria pursed her lips.

  “Still potable after eleven and a half thousand years? They must have been of supreme craftsmanship.”

  “Even if they’ve lost potency,” Benedict scratched his beard, “their composition might render some insights into ancient alchemy techniques. If one could be used for research purposes…”

  Even [Lieutenant] Odoona perked up at that. Every person in Wayfarrow would be interested in a better quality of healing potions, and the assembled group stared at Marie in question.

  “I could consider something like that perhaps, but only if the Guild’s trainee [Potion Maker] were allowed to sit in on any work, and perhaps if he could be loaned any books on alchemy the library has.”

  I really should have thought to send him here already.

  The enthusiastic nods she got from the others settled the matter, though she needed to check what everything was worth before she came to a final decision.

  “If that is everything for the night,” the [Lieutenant] cleared her throat, “could we see the chest secured, and I’ll be off.”

  That had been Marie’s idea as much as [Watch Commander] Amit’s insistence. Even if she thought it would be fine, she’d seen enough horror films over the years…

  Leaving the potions on the table next to the coins, Marie gently closed the lid of the dark box before realising she had no idea how it locked, but as she tilted it up in her grasp she heard another click, and when she tried, she couldn’t open it again.

  “Done.”

  The guard left to hand in her report and Intressa dispelled the barrier with a pop that echoed in everyone’s minds rather than their ears, and Marie stepped back to let the crowd of librarians that began to gather outside the room in to cluster round the treasures she’d laid out.

  At any other time, she’d have been keen to involve herself, but they’d puzzled over the chest for weeks on her behalf and they had knowledge of this world that she didn’t.

  Besides, I have other important tasks to see to.

  She clutched the letter Intressa had delivered to her.

  “I will be back in the morning if that is amenable to you;” she called to Lady Kypria over the press of bodies, receiving a distracted wave in reply, “make sure no one drinks those potions in the meantime!”

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  —

  When Marie got back to the Adventurer’s Guild it was well past any normal dinner time, but Greeleena met her with a plate of warm flatbread and a vegetable and potato curry. One thing from the enemy warcamp that the guild hadn’t been expected to hand over to the Alloyed Assembly had been their provisions, and whilst there weren’t many staples, there had been a few bags of spices, and the myconid [Guild Clerk] and [Cook] was putting them to good use.

  But Marie barely had a chance to thank her fungal friend before the woman was called away to deal with another adventurer’s request around the fallout of the battle, and she scarfed the food down to get to her next meeting on time.

  Passing up two flights of stairs at the back of the hall, Marie knocked on the Guildmaster’s office door and waited. A few minutes later, the hefty bulk of Gilded Paw emerged and gave her a shallow bow as he headed out.

  “Oh, Gil!” Marie reached out a hand to stop him. He paused with a wobble and a raised eyebrow. “The librarians and I have finally begun to look through the items in the chest I recovered from…well, it does not matter where from really…”

  “From the Ruins of Corratheon, Miss Marie. I am well aware.” The sweating tabaxi smiled. “Not much of value comes into town that I’m not aware of.”

  “Yes, well, I was hoping-”

  “That I’d give you a valuation on the contents?”

  “N- yes. Precisely that.”

  “Bring it round when you’re done cataloguing.” He turned, and then swivelled back. “Actually no, I’ll stop by the library at some point tomorrow or the day after and take a look. Better to have the bookworms there in case I have any questions. And don’t worry about any fee - I’ll waive it on this occasion for a sister-in-battle - and a potential business partner soon, if I’m not mistaken.” He winked at her. “[Sense Opportunity]; I don’t know what you’re planning, but I want in.”

  She flashed him a brilliant smile and stepped into Thror’s room and closed the door.

  Inside, the dark-furred guild leader sighed.

  “Do I not get a minute to myself these days?”

  Marie simply smiled, not missing the empty plates and half-finished bottle of wine on the table. His job wasn’t exactly taxing at the moment, though god knew he’d earned a rest.

  A sentiment I would not have imagined possible ten days ago.

  “I thought I would try to see you before you finished for the day.”

  He snorted. They both knew they’d be lucky to be done by midnight.

  “I heard you finally got the chest open. If it’s about that, congratulations, but you’ll forgive me if I wait until it’s all been identified before I care too much.”

  Saying nothing, she took out the letter from the King’s Council and slid it over the table.

  It took a minute for him to read, and at first his expression darkened, from tired to irritated, but as he reached the end it went slack, and when he finally put it down his head tilted in question as he regarded her with new eyes.

  “Did you-”

  “Give the King’s Council the relevant facts, as we discussed, and wait for them to relay their decision? Yes. Although I did note, by pure happenstance, that their decision to expand Wayfarrow’s borders was made a while before we discovered the location and identity of the soldier’s camp. At least according to the official date on the paperwork they provided.”

  Marie’s smile grew wider as she took out the copies of the documentation and handed them over.

  “So that means-”

  “That the land in question belongs to Wayfarrow, and did so for a few weeks before we discovered the existence of a dungeon within its boundaries, and therefore, in accordance with Varethis’ laws, the town - not the Alloyed Assembly - is within its rights to lay claim to the dungeon.”

  Thror’s grip tightened on the document.

  “And as per the standard agreement the guild has with the town, so long as we pay the appropriate taxes on any proceeds, we gain sole purview over the delving of the dungeon.”

  “Which leaves you, [Guildmaster], in charge of the dungeon, and entitled to a cut of the value of whatever is found within it, which, given that the Chamaian government told its army to pause a military campaign and explore it for treasures, may be very lucrative indeed.”

  Thror’s gaze flickered between the documents for a minute. A light built in his eyes but he visibly settled himself before he spoke.

  “This is excellent Marie, and it might just change things for Wayfarrow - depending on what we find inside. Really, I cannot praise you enough for this, and don’t think you won’t be getting a significant bonus when it pays off, but, as wonderful as the news is, it won’t come before the deadline of my debt to the Alloyed Assembly is due.”

  She straightened up in her seat, hand reaching up to push her glasses back, eyebrows furrowing.

  “Really? I thought perhaps we would give in to Sirrochon’s demands now and send a team…not immediately, but perhaps in the next day or two. Maybe we would need luck to find something of value, but if…”

  Thror’s head was already shaking.

  “It doesn’t work like that.”

  He saw her mouth begin to open and cut her off before she could speak.

  “Tell me, Marie. Have you ever been into a dungeon? Wait, don’t answer; I remember when we stood in the entrance. You didn’t even recognise the term, so I know you haven’t set foot in one before. How have you managed to reach thi- nevermind, that’s not important now. We need to begin with the basics; there are a few things you’ll need to know, now that Wayfarrow is going to have its own dungeon.” He sighed. “Let me start at the beginning.”

  Her frown began to deepen but Marie sat back to listen.

  He is the expert.

  The tabaxi [Guildmaster] took a minute to gather his thoughts, and to pour another glass of wine. He offered one to her but she shook her head. One clawed finger tapped on the table.

  “Right, so. The first thing to note is that all dungeons fall under the jurisdiction of the Adventurer’s Guild, with the Alloyed Assembly overseeing ones that lie outside an existing administrative domain. In Varethis at least. What other countries in Olphas or the wider world do isn’t my concern. That means that the Adventurer’s Guild is responsible for access - legal access at least - and entitled to a portion of the value that adventures find within.”

  Marie gave him a look. She knew all this already. It had been the basis of her plan.

  He raised a placating hand.

  “I know, but what you may be unaware of is that we have duties to perform in return. I’ll get onto that in a minute but for now let me give you a rundown…”

  When she didn’t object, he continued.

  “At a base level, there are four different types of dungeons. If we’re going by official adventurer’s guild terminology they’re Guard, Residual, Imprint and Challenge dungeons…roughly in that order. Remember ‘GRIC’.”

  He paused to make sure she was still paying attention.

  “First of all, Guard dungeons are exactly what they sound like - an obstacle that’s been put in the way of whatever lies within. Could be to protect it, or to shut it away from the world at large; they can be guarding it from us, or guarding us from it. ‘Vaults’ and ‘Gaols’ in adventurer slang. Whatever’s being kept inside could be alive or an object, dangerous or valuable, but Guard dungeons usually have a lot of traps and monsters of all sorts keeping them secure. They’re usually made by people, and if it’s a newly-built dungeon those same people might be protecting it too.”

  Seems simple enough. A prison or a bank vault.

  He waited for her nod to continue.

  “Residual dungeons on the other hand are formed when a group or person has left an area…or been wiped out. I’d classify the Ruins of Corratheon as one, but Exclusion Zones are their whole own thing - we can talk about that later. Anyway, like Corratheon, by their nature a lot of Remnant dungeons are ruined and full of undead, but not all of them. There’s a couple of famous ones in Varthis that aren’t: the Ruins of Kelmari, where the largest clans of dwarves used to live before their mass exodus to the Langschloss - that may be a ruin but it has no trace of necromancy - and Erlangdrek’s Tower, where a mad old reclusive [Wizard] locked himself in his laboratory before he disappeared or died - that’s neither ruined nor full of the undead. But my point is, Residuals vary massively in size and scale. Take Kelmari: it spans hundreds of miles of tunnels and was looted millenia ago, but every now and then a new section will be uncovered when a hill collapses or a monster digs through into some hidden hall and opens it up to the world, and a thousand adventurers will descend looking for adamantium and mithril and all sorts of dwarvish treasures.”

  She frowned.

  So…they can be anything?

  Thror must have read the uncertainty on her face.

  “Don’t worry about it too much, just know that Residuals are the hardest to gauge, in terms of size and threats and loot.”

  “If they are so varied, why are they all grouped together?”

  Thror grinned, sharp canines gleaming.

  “Adventurering Guilds like to be able to slap a label on things. Makes them feel like they’re more in control. Anyway, two more types to explain. Imprint dungeons - adventurers just call them Death dungeons - are formed when a powerful person or creature, or group I suppose, dies. They’re a little easier to predict once you establish what sort of thing died. If a mighty [Conjurer] was killed, it might warp the land for miles around with unnatural pathways and summoned monstrosities - beasts straight out of your nightmares, or elemental creatures with valuable cores - which, to give it some context, is just one of the reasons any sane person avoids the Deadlands. On the other paw, if a high enough level [Druid] died, you might find monstrous and intelligent animals and thickets of deadly plants and sentient trees, all quite happy to extinguish a band of adventurers looking for the rare herbs and creatures the [Druid] protected when he was alive. You aren’t likely to find gold or gems or magical loot in Death dungeons, but they’re often a treasure trove for rare or unusual resources.”

  He paused as he finished his cup of wine, and glanced at the bottle before placing it back on the desk.

  “Which brings us to the final one: Challenge dungeons. They’re rarer because someone with a lot of power has to actually make them for someone else’s benefit. The ones you’re more likely to hear about will be in countries that have made one to train [Soldiers] and sometimes [Guards], or [Nobles] who pay for it; or you might come across the odd Challenge dungeon made by a [Mage] or [Wizard] as a test for prospective apprentices before the old bastard will take them on. You’re not likely to have anything to do with them so don’t worry about them…unless the one we uncovered used to be a Challenge dungeon but is now a Residual - with it having been lost and abandoned and all - but still it’s not that much of an issue when Residual is a catch-all term already. There’s also subtypes - like regenerating or static, depleted or fresh, but again that’s not so important now.”

  Marie digested it all for a moment.

  “Okay. I think I understand, but what does that have to do with getting Sirrochon or someone in to see what it contains?”

  “Right. I’ll get to that now. One of the duties I have to perform as [Guildmaster] - not that I’ve had any cause to do it yet - is to evaluate new dungeons. Each one that the Adventurer’s Guild knows about needs to be classified in terms of type and difficulty. I trust you understand the reasoning for that.”

  A grey-green sky. Miles of rubble and ruins full of countless thousands of skeletons. Little water, no food. Things moving just out of sight. Creeping. Waiting.

  Marie shuddered.

  Right. To keep people out of places that would be the death of them.

  “Is that why the Ruins of Corratheon…”

  “That’s where ‘Exclusion Zones’ come into it, yes. Normal dungeons are ranked just like adventurers. Bronze is suitable for an adventurer between level 10 and 20 - we usually don’t recommend anyone below that try one. Silver for 20 to 30. Gold for 30 to 40. Platinum for 40 to 50. There’s a handful of Mithril-ranked dungeons that are barred to anyone below level 50, and there’s one Adamantine dungeon I know of in all of Olphas - Meltraxioth’s Halls - for a group of at least level 60.”

  He paused, looking at her without speaking, and Marie took the bait.

  “Okay, so what are Exclusion Zones then? Adventurer terms for Level 70 and higher only?”

  Thror grinned.

  “No. That’s why those who heard where you came from were so curious - and why not a few still call you a liar behind your back.” He only grinned wider as a look of indignation passed over her face. “Not me of course; I can tell. You can’t fake some reactions.”

  “If you would care to give me some names…”

  “Let’s not get you back behind bars quite so soon. As I was saying, Adamantine dungeons are the highest the normal ratings go because you just don’t find adventuring groups of a higher level. Honestly, even a group of Mithril-ranked adventurers is a generational event; the stronger people get the harder they seem to find working with others. Or perhaps, only the slightly insane and broken people make it to that level. I had to stop at Gold rank, and even then dealing with some… personalities, made finding a balanced team a challenge. Whatever the case, Exclusion Zones are areas designated as off-limits by Adventurer’s Guilds, partly because any level group going there has a high chance of death, but also because when something that dangerous is contained, it’s best not to poke it.”

  Marie couldn’t suppress the shudder of the memory this time, and for a moment Thror’s expression turned serious, and he pushed the bottle of wine over. This time she took a swig before she asked her question.

  “Could it be that bad, in the one you are going to examine I mean?”

  If that was the case perhaps she’d made a terrible mistake getting the town control of it.

  Thror waved a dismissive hand.

  “The one we’re going to oversee won’t be an Exclusion Zone; that would have set [Dangersenses] ringing across the continent as soon as those [Soldiers] found it, but I’m betting on it being at least Silver, probably Gold, and maybe even Platinum if we’re really unlucky, though even in higher-ranked dungeons the real threats tend to be deeper in, so we could scout the outskirts and make a judgement.”

  His eyes roamed down a scroll in front of him, held open by a rough stone paperweight and what looked like a monster’s claw. Marie didn’t recall seeing it before and wondered if it was an old trophy before he continued.

  “Whatever the danger, I didn’t survive to reach where I am by being reckless, so, before I can open it to adventurers, I need to put together a capable and balanced group of people I know and trust - some sort of guardian Class, someone to look for traps, and a healer at the bare minimum. In case it’s a dangerous dungeon, I need them to be as close to Gold-ranked as possible; we’d need to explore at least the entrance and first few areas inside that we come across. Now, if you’d care to review the files and let me know how many people in Wayfarrow fit that criteria at the moment?” He gave her a knowing look.

  She didn’t have to check; she knew.

  He got up to give her a pat on the shoulder and to escort her to the door.

  “I’ll try and come up with some ideas, and if you’re amenable to it I might ask you to join the group - you’re a lot lower than I’d normally consider but you’re capable and you’ve certainly survived worse. In the meantime though, people need to recover. For now I’ll take the paperwork to the council and let them know the good news. Well done, Marie.”

  She paused outside his door as it shut gently behind her.

  He was right, of course.

  In the actual guild files, there were only two individuals ranked as Gold, and one of them was Thror. The other was retired, and though she’d defend the town, she wasn’t looking to adventure. Kalminash would have reached Gold-rank if he’d survived the battle, she was sure, but even he’d been semi-retired. Her heart sank in her chest as an image of the wild barbarian, growing physically with his rage, flashed into her mind, but like so many other memories of that night she forced it away.

  Her friends would have been her other choice before all this had happened, though they were still only Silver.

  Sirrochon had reached level 28 from the harrowing hours of running battles and the bloodbath he’d been through, but even if he was raring to get out and explore the dungeon for any hint of surviving soldiers, she wasn’t sure if Thror could trust him right now. Leaping Mist would be more reliable - and was now a level 27 [Cutterwaul Fighter] - but he’d been quite up front about his plan to take some time off.

  Evermore’s was in an even worse position. Eldun had notified the guild that he was level 26, but he still had broken bones to heal, and his armour was in an even worse state. Fodrin was a level behind him, and the Beaver-headed beastkin was just as reluctant as Leam to head out, and she’d seen the hollow circles under his eyes when she’d talked to him.

  She’d seen it in almost all of them when they met at the tavern for a drink at night.

  PTSD? Or stress? We need to get counselling services as part of the guild. Does this world have [Therapists]?

  Then there was Rina, still recovering in the makeshift hospital they’d set up in town, barely level 20, and Brunalda still in a coma.

  The rest of the team were dead. Dappled Shadow, Chuffa…Quartz. She swallowed. A full third of the two groups that had been out hunting the supposed [Bandits] had returned in shrouds. They were currently lying on slabs in one of Braer’s storage rooms that he’d given over for the deceased until they could be buried in a graveyard just beyond the town’s walls. She’d be going there, in two day’s time. [Magistrate] Quintal was going to perform the ceremony. Sixteen more graves for a town that might only see a hundred deaths in a whole year.

  That more than anything hit home how dangerous this world could be.

  Perhaps rushing into a dungeon needed a little more consideration and preparation.

  And time.

  But the debt still loomed.

  Practicality forced out emotions. There was work to be done; time to grieve later.

  Money was owed, and the guild and town had none to spare. Her chest contents might be worth something, but that was unknown, and she’d need to let the librarians finish their identification, hope that they succeeded, find a buyer and make a sale, all before the end of the month…

  A loan then, perhaps.

  Did this world have banks? It seemed she had another reason to speak to Gil when she next saw him.

  —

  She sat behind the reception desk, but paid no attention to the constant flow of adventurers. There was still a backlog of updates and files and pay requests to deal with from the battle, and the day-to-day activities of the guild hadn’t stopped. Wilhelmina, Greeleena and Rudi had kept everything rolling the past few days, the Bronze-ranked members of the guild picking up the slack in questing and missions as the Silvers recovered. Marie thought they might have all levelled from the work, but that didn’t stop Wilhelmina shooting daggers in her direction whenever she passed.

  The volume of work kept her [Secretary] colleague from being too unpleasant, but Marie sitting down reading and making notes was definitely not endearing her to the red-headed woman.

  Nor had coming out of Thror’s office earlier after the meeting. Marie wasn’t sure whether the woman was attracted to the [Guildmaster], or just jealous of the amount of face time she was getting with her superior.

  It can not be about my levels; I have kept my details off the files for a while now.

  Maybe Wilhelmina just didn’t like her.

  Who cares?

  A small part of her felt bad about it, but Marie fundamentally lacked the bandwidth to give a single f-

  “Sorry Marie, could you…”

  She didn’t need to look up to know Rudi was holding out a handful of palm-sized cards. She cricked her neck and dragged her fingers along the wooden counter top as she sat up straight and took them without looking at him, scanning the notes on them.

  There were quite a few.

  “I will need a minute.”

  “...I didn’t want to disturb you, but you did insist, as did Master Thror.”

  She’d been brusque. Either that or her face must have been reflecting her inner musings more than she realised. She hid the grimace she felt for her actions and made the effort to make eye contact. She gave him a tired smile.

  “It is no trouble; it is best for the guild, and for them.”

  Looking out across the main guild hall, most of the adventurers relaxing on chairs and sofas were the lower ranks, but Marie took some heart in the fact that more than a third of them were allagi.

  Algar’s Hunters had taken the worst hit over the past week, and more than one adventurer whispered that they’d not recover any time soon. Over half their number were dead or crippled for life, and a good portion of the rest had the same suppressed trauma in their eyes that she knew she had herself.

  They’d had a reason - if not a good one in her opinion, though it wasn’t a million miles away from what she was hoping to do with the dungeon.

  No risk, no reward, I suppose.

  It was a bittersweet payoff for them though. Algar and his core group of hunters were on the cusp of being Wayfarrow’s first Silver-ranked all-allagi adventuring team in decades, which was insane given how much of the population here his people made up. And, in a way the other adventurers were right - the group wouldn’t recover - because Algar was planning to split them in two to better accept jobs on their levels. Algar himself had reached level 22.

  That wasn’t why they’d thrown themselves into danger though. That had been driven by something entirely different. Another debt.

  The fund that Wayfarrow’s allagi had started in their community to pay off the atrocious fine levied against them after the death of the guard during the last Beastwatch - their own losses ignored of course - was almost full. It had taken a combination of their zeal in accepting any and all quests they could, their courage in taking on threats that were too much for them, and some anonymous contributions from outside to reach the target of three hundred gold.

  And they have a little extra help now.

  “[Post Quest: Wayfarrow Adventurer’s Guild].”

  She didn’t hear Rudi’s thanks or see the man leaving. The adventurer’s noticeboard and guild logbooks shuddered amidst a flurry of manifesting missions and markings as Marie exerted the Skill, but it was the one she didn’t need to activate - [Guildsworn Bonus] - which would trickle out a few extra rewards for those like the allagi that completed them.

  And [Dispatcher’s Dividend] brings a little to the guild too.

  It wasn’t enough for their debts to the Alloyed Assembly - sitting as it was at almost ten times the allagi’s fine - but at a time like this, it might be enough to keep the guild employees paid as she searched for a solution…

  …which she was rapidly deciding lay in the form of a loan.

  There was no two ways about it really. Without a random benefactor, or the immediate discovery of a valuable treasure in the dungeon or her chest - which she realised now had been a naive hope - then borrowing from someone was the only real option. Which then begged the question, from whom?

  No one in town was wealthy enough. Even the [Nobles] were apparently all relatively broke or out of favour, which is why they’d ended up here.

  What is the point of having nobility if they are not rich?

  It was a little harsh on some perhaps. [Mayor] Atherton had used a Skill to increase the price on the few goods the town exported to the rest of the county in a bid to raise a little capital, which he’d promised would go towards the debt, but it was too little too late to fix Marie’s opinion of him and the others. The older generation at least.

  Suppressing a core of seething anger at the flagrant failings of the ones who were meant to be running the town, Marie went back to searching for legal loopholes and money-making options, determined to exhaust her options there before she changed tact tomorrow to finding a rich person to take a loan from.

  Another item on the list of things to ask Gil. Or maybe Fila.

  As her head remained buried in books, adjusting her glasses every few minutes as though that would reveal some secret, a steady stream of adventurers flowed to and from the quest board.

  Murmured voices discussed the options, debating the merits of slaying a pack of sewer-dwelling dire rats versus gathering a pack full of herbs near a broccsus’ den, and griping about the miserliness of their issuers, but in the end the notices began to be taken, one by one, and the quest log slowly filled with acceptances.

  The evening dragged on as she poured through tome after tome, reference books and legal documents. Despite everything, her page of notes remained woefully short, and she so often massaged her temples that she soon sat with her head in her hands, staring down at the pages, glasses forgotten to one side, until she heard a voice she recognised.

  Most nights now she shared a drink in the Grinning Broccsus with the survivors of the battle. The Silver-ranked ones at least; the allagi still preferred to drink with their own kind, even if the others were less openly dismissive of Algar and his crew now.

  But the drinks had been solemn occasions, so, when she recognised Shen’s voice ringing out, full of cheer, she looked up and fumbled the glasses back onto her face, seeing the man clinking mugs of ale with Silent Moon and Jenila, Omesia clapping him on the back.

  It took a minute for the news to spread throughout the hall but eventually Marie caught the arm of a smiling Greeleena as the myconid went to the kitchen to fetch a round of light beers for the common room.

  “What is the good news?”

  The fungal face of her friend looked down and Greeleena twitched her host body’s face into her best smile.

  “It's Bundalda. She's finally awake!”

  And there, pushing the bad memories and churning worries aside for a time, was the third joy.

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