Hans woke with the sunrise, but not by choice. His daily routine ran automatically in his unconscious mind while his conscious mind begged him to stay in bed and to never drink again. For a moment, he convinced himself that borrowing a guild healing potion wouldn’t hurt, but he decided against it. He filled a glass using the Create Water spell and sipped as he roused his mind from its slumber.

He had two quests in mind that warranted shopping lists: A wish list of books for a new chapter library and a shopping list of the supplies and luxuries he would need for the winter.

Nope. Not ready for that much thinking.

His next best idea was to talk to Becky so that he could kickstart his records on completed jobs and monster sightings. Maybe she would be hungover and much less loud. Maybe. Hopefully.

Probably not.

Before Hans stepped out the door to track down the dwarf Druid, he paused. He went back for his glass of water and brought it with him.

A Gomi morning was a relatively peaceful affair. For the most part, the streets were as empty as they usually were, but Hans could hear the distant echo of a hammer shaping metal and the smell of bread baking. In his search for Becky, Hans passed Gomi’s City Hall, a small structure he had never entered. That morning, Luther had a barrel on a cart, and Mayor Charlie held open a large side door for the tusk to wheel through.

That glimpse inside City Hall revealed that the small building was more of a town storage unit than a government meeting place. Hans guessed that Luther was delivering a barrel of beer to be sold to the next merchant caravan, likely one of the few barrels remaining from last year’s harvest.

Mayor Charlie waved weakly at Hans as he passed. “We’re too old,” he groaned. Ah, Hans wasn’t the only one with a hangover.

Hans raised his glass of water in greeting and continued on.

Olza’s shop wasn’t open for business yet, but the alchemist was up, brooming dirt out her front door. She immediately recognized Hans’ condition.

“Big night?” she asked with a sly grin.

With great effort, Hans managed a nod.

“I’d be richer than the king if I invented a cheap hangover cure.”

“Seen Becky?” Hans grunted.

“She left this morning.”

No. No no no no no. No! “Are you sure?”

“Certain. She stopped by earlier.”

Active Quest: Reestablish job-completion and monster-hunting recordkeeping.

Hans’ head limply dropped backward, pointing his eyes to the sky. He was so close to crossing that quest off. So very close. Now it would be open for at least another week if not a month, depending on Becky’s mood.

Ultimately, having Becky’s notes now versus later wasn’t much of a difference as far as operating the chapter went. But he liked completing quests, and he hated when they lingered. The longer a quest remained incomplete, the more it bothered a part of his brain that thrived on that structure, on that hit of satisfaction he got from crossing it off.

When Hans rolled his head forward again, Olza gave him a curious look, leaning on her broom to watch him suffer.

“Okay. Thanks,” he said. “Your flower. I have a friend that might be able to help. Mind if I send her a sample?”

“By all means.”

Quest Update: Write a letter to Mazo for help with Olza’s flower.

Better than nothing, I suppose.

Hans lifted a hand–but not the rest of his arm–and gave Olza a goodbye wave. She laughed as he walked away. As he meandered down the street, to nowhere in particular now that Becky was gone, he again reviewed his quest list.

I need something I can complete right now.

New Quest: Take a nap before kids’ class.

Perfect.

***

Quest Complete: Take a nap before kids’ class.

Hans awoke, still feeling tired, but the nap had cured his headache. He thanked the gods. Teaching a kids’ class with a hangover made for a long hour and a half. All the yelling. Their high-pitched kiddie voices. Wooden swords bouncing off of each other over and over.

Not pleasant for the impaired.

Part of him wished he could drop the class in a low-level dungeon and call that the lesson for the day, safely, of course. In spite of the brain fog, that gave him an idea: training aids for dungeons. Many years prior, he proposed building simulated dungeon and cavern hallways for adventurers to train in. His reasoning was that adapting tactics to the environment, linear close-quarters paths in this case, was a critical adventuring skill.

Many Iron-ranked adventurers had been wounded or worse when their weapon caught on a dungeon wall in the midst of battle. That momentary delay exposed the adventurer to attacks, and it was a commonly made mistake. In his mind, adventurers should get as much practice preventing their deaths as they could in a place where making a mistake wasn’t deadly.

The Guild denied his proposal. The Hoseki chapter had the finest training facility in the kingdom, better than the royal family itself. The Guild Master believed their training was already the best of the best, so he was reluctant to begin a new renovation project to satisfy a Gold’s hunch.

Gomi’s training yard was simpler: A mostly flat patch of dirt surrounded by a fence. He could build whatever he wanted.

A rush of new ideas blasted through his fatigue. With new training aids, he could develop a whole new series of drills and games designed to build dungeon proficiency. He could even build several variations of the training aid to control the difficulty, easing students into honing new skills.

If he was creative enough, he could potentially simulate uneven terrain as well. Tripping in the dark ended several adventuring careers each year as well. Though Hans was obsessed with the nuanced details of footwork, he had overlooked something until just then: The way he stepped in a dungeon was different from how he stepped in the training yard.

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When he knew the terrain was flat, his feet barely left the ground when he moved. They slid from position to position, the minimal lift adding a slight boost to his speed. That was risky to do on a shadowy, uneven cavern floor. He decided to come back to the terrain problem later because every idea he had in that moment seemed too dangerous.

Hans really didn’t need an eight year-old breaking their ankle in his class. That wouldn’t be fun for anyone.

But the corridor idea, that he could get started on right away.

New Quest: Design and build simulated dungeon corridors for training.

New Quest: Design drills to practice specific dungeon corridor skills.

New Quest: Brainstorm ideas for safe approaches to training on uneven terrain.

Reinvigorated, Hans went out to the training yard to begin planning. He found Quentin rehearsing the material they had covered in class thus far.

“I didn’t sleep through class, did I?” Hans asked.

“No…?” Quentin replied.

“Good.”

At the back of the yard, farthest from the gate leading out onto the street, Hans measured with his footsteps, visualizing what he might build and how it would fit in the training yard.

How wide is the average dungeon corridor? Does that research even exist?

If it did, it would be in a big city library somewhere, which he would not have access to for the foreseeable future, if ever again. Gathering that data would give his manuscript an extra boost of credibility, so he didn’t abandon the idea completely. There was nothing he could do about it at present.

For now, though, he cycled through his memories of dungeon crawls, trying to estimate an average by feel. Dragging his toe in the dirt, he mapped out a corridor that was 5 feet wide, and another that was 10. Asking for Quentin’s help, he again tried to visualize the space and what it would be like to spar in it, using the boy as another point of reference.

“What are we doing?” Quentin watched his Guild Master fight multiple imaginary battles, some where he was the foe, between the lines in the dirt.

“I have an idea for a dungeon training aid. Trying to figure it out.” Hans explained his idea and his reasoning to Quentin.

“So like two wooden walls to train between?”

“You make it sound simple.”

“...Isn’t it?”

Actually, Quentin was right. Setting a few posts and nailing down a few boards was easy enough. Judging by Galinda’s home and the growth of the Tribe’s farmland, Gomi had access to a mill or other such processing tool to turn logs into boards. Galinda or Charlie could probably point him in the right direction. If for some reason boards weren’t available, he could use long logs buried vertically in a row like a palisade.

Well, not like a palisade, that was basically the definition of a palisade.

Always good to have a backup plan.

Kids’ class that day was a blur. He couldn’t take his mind off of his dungeon training project. The students did their drills for the day, lots of review with a few new tweaks and challenges mixed in. As a reward, they ended class with a game of dodgeball. They didn’t have balls, so they used rags tied tight with twine to form a vague spherical shape.

They were soft. They had enough weight to be thrown. The kids had fun all the same. Well, there was a moment where Gunther and Harry both cried at the same time, but if they were going to aim a dodgeball at another person’s crotch, they should have the presence of mind to protect their own.

***

After class, a very sweaty Quentin came to see Hans in the guild hall.

“Umm… Can I talk to you about something?”

“What’s up?”

Quentin stammered for a moment, trying to find the words. “My dad… He’s been gone for a while. He’s usually back by now.”

A working parent coming home late was not unusual. However, a significant number of guild jobs were search and rescue missions, sparked by conversations like this one. Hans had gone on several such jobs himself, so many that he stopped thinking of them as rescues. Most of the time they ended up recovering bodies.

With the expanse of the kingdom and the large distance between most towns, there was plenty of wilderness for someone to get lost in. Those same areas were breeding grounds for monsters and hideouts for bandits. The elements could be harsh enough, but having man-eating supernatural creatures hunting you didn’t help your odds.

“Okay, Quentin. I’m going to ask you a bunch of questions, but this is the important part: tell me when you aren’t completely sure of an answer or if you don’t have an answer at all. Information is crucial, and having a sense of what we know for certain can save a lot of time.”

Quentin nodded.

“When did your dad leave to go hunt?”

“Eight days ago.”

“How long do his hunting trips usually last?”

“Three or four days this time of year. Little easier to find game in the spring.”

“Did he say how long he’d be?”

“Three or four days.”

“Okay. Good. Has he come home late before, and what was the longest you waited?”

“Sometimes, but it’s usually only an extra day or two. Longest was when a bad storm hit. He was five days late that time.”

Hans paused to think. “Do you know his hunting spots?”

Quentin said he did.

“I’m going to run down to talk to Mayor Charlie real quick,” Hans said, handing a pen and his personal journal to Quentin. “Write down everything you can remember about those hunting spots. Start with the one he planned to use this trip.”

While Quentin began scribbling furiously, Hans went down the street to the bakery.

When he stepped inside, Charlie was sitting at the counter reading a book. “I’ll need a few more months to recover. No drinking for me tonight.” Then he caught Hans’ look. “What is it?”

“Quentin just told me he’s worried about his dad. Wanted you to gut-check if we should be concerned.”

“The boy is very level headed for his age. How late is Roland?”

How did I not think to ask his name? Out of practice, Hans, that’s not good.

“Three or four days.”

“I see,” Charlie said, rubbing his chin. “Were it any other child, I’d say we should be slow to draw conclusions, but it’s not like Quentin to cry wolf.”

“Okay. That’s enough justification for me. We need to go out and check on Quentin’s dad.”

New Quest: Find Quentin’s father.

“What do you need me to do?”

“First, send a sparrow to Becky. I don’t know these woods at all. With her as a guide, we can cover ground more quickly. If you have a map of the area, I’d love to borrow it, and I’ll need some rations. I have everything else I need.”

Charlie went to it without another word.

As the Mayor stepped out the door, Galinda emerged from the kitchen. “This feels bad,” she said.

“I have the same feeling.”

***

Quentin stared at a page filled with ink, his brow furrowed.

“We sent a sparrow for Becky. Good news there is she couldn’t have gone far, so my plan is to head out in the morning with her.”

“I’m coming. I can help.”

“I know you’re good in the woods, but no. And this is not something we debate. It’s best if we find your dad as quickly as we can. You’re a tough kid, but moving quickly is more dangerous. You’ll be ready soon, but not yet.”

Quentin’s lips parted, but he stopped himself. He said he understood.

“You’re still an important part of this. Everything you’re about to tell me about these hunting spots is going to save us a lot of time. After we go through everything you wrote down, I want you to head home. We need someone there in case he comes back.”

Quentin nodded slightly.

“Are you okay by yourself? There’s nothing weak about wanting some company.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Well, I’m going to have people check in on you, so don’t go stabbing anyone thinking they’re a burglar.”

The boy laughed.

That’s good. Laughter is a good sign.

***

A soft tickle on Hans’ chin pulled him from sleep late that night. It felt like the end of a horsetail touching his skin ever so lightly. He opened his eyes to see what time it was.

“Hey, boss.”

Hans yelped and scrambled for a weapon or something to block with. And pants. He needed pants. His eyes adjusted, and he saw Becky, her eyes gleaming in the moonlight. That tickle he felt earlier was courtesy of her neatly braided beard, Hans realized. She smiled eagerly.

“What the fuck, Becky.”

“I got soft feet.”

“What are you doing here?”

“You sent a sparrow. Me and Becki came as quickly as we could.”

***

Open Quests (Ordered from Old to New):

Progress from Gold-ranked to Diamond-ranked.

Mend the rift with Devon.

Complete the manuscript for "The Next Generation: A Teaching Methodology for Training Adventurers."

Pick up the guild provisions from the caravan after next.

Pick up training equipment from the smith when it is completed.

Wait for Olza to deliver the rest of the potion order.

Reestablish job-completion and monster-hunting recordkeeping.

Identify the unknown purple flower from Olza.

Keep the guild hall clean.

Prepare a booklist for Mayor Charlie.

Write a letter to Mazo for help with Olza’s flower.

Grow the Gomi chapter without attracting outside attention.

Prepare for winter, and don’t forget the beer.

Design and build simulated dungeon corridors for training.

Design drills to practice specific dungeon corridor skills.

Brainstorm ideas for safe approaches to training on uneven terrain.

Find Quentin’s father.