Hans leaned against the wall of the dungeon, chewing deer jerky.

Mimicking Quentin, he angled his book just right to share in Honronk’s Summon Light spell. The orb floating over the tusk’s head cast a harsh light that exaggerated the onyx qualities of his gray skin. A mass of practice tattoos–all for the Nightsight enchantment in this case–peeked out from beneath his left sleeve as he practiced the gestures for Charm. Even in the light, the ink was nearly invisible against his skin, like catching the ghost of something that had been painted over.

Kane slept a few feet away, his cloak balled up and set against his rucksack for a makeshift pillow. Sven slept as well, but he did so sitting up, his head down, arms wrapped around his knees.

Terry chipped away at his latest whittling project. The Apprentice had taken to passing his time on duty by carving toys and figures for his daughter. His current project was a camahueto, the bovine creatures in the dungeon with horns like a rhinoceros and a charge to match. Most of the head and horn were finished, but the rest of its body was still raw, blocky wood.

Other than the turning of pages, the soft clicks and scrapes of Terry’s knife were the only noises, echoing down the long dungeon corridors. Most of the time, at least. A zout, an emerald green bird that now grew in the imp room, sat in a wooden cage next to Sven. The bird occasionally remembered it was in captivity and fussed for a minute before quieting again.

“I think we’re going about the dorm build all wrong,” Terry said softly, referring to the construction at the dungeon entrance on the surface.

“Oh?” Hans said, looking up from his book.

“Should be building it down here instead. Wouldn’t it be nice to have your ass on something that wasn’t cold stone?”

Hans chuckled. “A bed does sound nice about now.”

“It’d be a pain, but could we drag some furniture down here? I was joking about building the dorm underground, but the more I think about it, the better the idea sounds.”

Kane grumbled, “I’ll help carry it.”

“No, we won’t,” Quentin said before looking at Hans. “...Unless we’re ordered to.”

“You wouldn’t prefer a bed right now?” Kane asked.

“We’re at the bottom of the pecking order. Terry and Sven would get first dibs.”

Terry scoffed. “I wouldn’t pull rank on you.”

Sven, who Hans thought was asleep, spoke without opening his eyes or moving. “I would.”

Terry attempted to stifle a laugh.

“See?” Quentin said.

Kane waved him off. “Would still be worth it.”

The Guild Master pictured trying to carry a couch through the Regenerating Castle–or the Bone Goblins, as the Apprentices had taken to calling it. Though comical, bringing furniture into the dungeon wouldn’t be impossible.

In the early days of culling the Gomi dungeon, the adventurers left only corpses behind. When the dungeon regenerated, they’d return and find all of the bodies–as well as blood and other viscera–were gone. Presumably, the dungeon reabsorbed its dead and its garbage, including the weapons the gnolls in the dungeon carried. Hans knew monsters grew from the roots of the dungeon core, but the full picture of how and why that process worked as it did was a mystery, even more so when that process worked in reverse.

The Apprentices did learn, however, that the dungeon didn’t absorb items adventurers left behind. Initially, those items were a few logs for seating just inside the dungeon entrance, but then the party carried a batch of quarterstaffs down several levels, stashing the bundle near the cave of the geode gecko.

Carrying staves through the Bone Goblins was awkward and tedious, especially in the lower levels where the halls were tight and the layout even more haphazard, an amalgamation of the strange choices and tastes of the lords who claimed the castle and added their own construction over the years. The Apprentices began to dread that section of dungeon as the repetition of an inconvenience wore on them, run after run after run.

Instead of carrying down one staff at a time, they brought down a bundle of twenty, and the dungeon didn’t bother them between cycles. The rods were right where they left them for every visit that followed, giving the Apprentices at least twenty unencumbered runs, more if a few of the staves survived the gecko battle.

New Quest: Build a rest area in the dungeon to improve adventurer recovery.

When spring finally reached Gomi, Hans crossed quest after quest off of his log, many of his long-term projects benefiting from access to the outside world. The Gomi dungeon plan had gone smoothly thus far, but a great deal of work remained. Learning how much the dungeon core could be influenced inspired more ideas, so his long-term vision for the dungeon changed and expanded, sometimes from day to day.

Of his quests, Hans considered the following to be the most important:

Active Quest: Determine if the dungeon can support enough crafting materials to provide new tradespeople consistent, meaningful work.

Active Quest: Secure interior dungeon doors without trapping adventurers inside.

Active Quest: Find a way for Gomi adventurers to benefit from their rightful ranks in the Adventurers’ Guild.

Improvising an adventurer’s lounge at the bottom of the dungeon didn’t feel nearly as important as quests like those, but the small quests had a way of adding up over time.

“I was just fooling with you, boys,” Terry said. “Best solution is to have enough beds for everyone.”

“Are you volunteering to carry the furniture?” Hans asked Terry with a grin.

“I suppose I am. I think Buru would help me, but he’s on the wrong rotation for that.”

When Hans said that was the case for now, Terry probed for clarification.

“I came along today to see how Kane and Quentin were handling themselves. They’re not ready for a three-person party, but with the right companions, they could do well in a party of four.”

“When you thinking of changing up the parties?”

“I’m not sure yet. I am sure we need more Apprentices, though, so we’ll need to be smart about adding new blood to the rotations.”

“I wouldn’t worry about not having enough Apprentices,” Terry said, blowing a few burs from his carving. “Folks have been talking about us. They’re seeing us get stronger and come home safe every rotation. You wouldn’t believe how often people tell me I look like I’ve lost weight.”

“You have leaned out a good bit,” Hans admitted. When Terry was a town guard, he was a little soft and not in adventuring shape, but now he could jog to the bottom of the dungeon in full gear and not get winded.

Terry straightened his back and pinched a lump of skin. “See that? Beer belly is gone, and thank gods that’s not because I gave up the beer.”

Hans agreed that Terry, like all of the Apprentices really, had come a long way in just a few months of intense training.

“Think I’ll get abs?” Terry asked, holding up his tunic to inspect his bare gut.

“You know, I always wanted abs too,” Hans said. “When I was in the best shape of my life–must have been around 25 then–I was the leanest I had ever been. Almost no body fat. Still couldn’t see my abs.”

“Really?”

“Yep. A Healer told me once that bodies are just different like that sometimes. Some people can skip breakfast and look shredded, while others will never get that kind of definition.”

“That’s disappointing.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“I’m just being bitter. You’re close. Keep training and pushing yourself. Maybe there’s abs under there after all.”

***

With the dungeon cleared, the walk back to the surface the next morning was dull but relatively brief. Kane and Quentin took turns carrying that run’s reagent haul–camahueto horns, geode gecko oil sacs, imp blood, and minotaur horns. Sven, Terry, and Honronk rolled dice to decide that Sven was on zout duty. Though he wasn’t thrilled with the job, the Apprentices weren’t carrying the bird by hand to the surface anymore. They used a wooden cage that was easy enough to manage, but the zout pecked its escort through the bars, its pointed beak drawing blood on occasion.

Like they had done with the previous eight, Sven would release this zout into the wild. Zouts absorbed salt, apparently, and the Lady of the Forest believed they could reforest war-ravaged areas of the kingdom by removing the salt the orc army spread in their wake.

That’s what the Lady of the Forest said, at least. Hans had never heard of a zout as they had gone extinct well before he was born. On occasion, he was tempted to keep one of the birds to see what price they might fetch, but he thought better of betraying a spirit whose domain covered all of the Gomi forest.

“Everyone whole?” Tandis asked as the party emerged from the dungeon.

That was always her first question. When she confirmed no one was injured, she resumed her normal quartermaster duties, logging that run’s loot and topping off the party’s supply of food and water, preparing them for the next run in a day or so.

“Any developments?” Hans asked.

Tandis shook her head. “Nothing substantial. The dorm walls are almost up, but you can see that.” She gestured over her shoulder at the crew of Gomi workers toiling away in the sun of a mountain spring. That same crew had built several temporary A-frame shelters nearby, inspired by Roland’s design from the first cabin build.

With the new dorms nearly complete, accompanied by two cabins and a total of eight A-frame shelters, the dungeon campus looked more like a frontier village–a small, close-knit community facing down untamed wilderness. This wasn’t the frontier, of course. It was the base of the Dead End Mountains at the edge of the kingdom but still within its borders.

Though trying to settle the frontier with all of its monsters, dangerous terrain, and brutal weather was a different kind of challenge, Hans couldn’t help but acknowledge how much the dungeon project felt like staking a claim to the unknown, building a home in an unlikely place in spite of the dangers. In the frontier, an adventurer was cut off from the rest of the Adventurers’ Guild. Help was hundreds of miles away, monsters prowled the wilderness all around, and beneath all of that danger was the buzz of opportunity, the purest form of adventure.

A small spindly arm waved to catch Hans’ attention. Mayor Charlie stood with his wife Galinda, his brother-in-law Galad, and a small group of workers. Excusing himself, Charlie separated from the group and came over to speak with Hans as Tandis went back to her work.

“Decided to pay us a visit, Mayor?” Hans asked, smiling.

“Felt like with all the hullabaloo this dungeon has caused, I should at least lay eyes on it,” Charlie answered. “The terrain is horrid. My joints are yellin’ already, but I have to admit, it’s pretty up here.”

“Yeah, it’s got a bit of a storybook quality, doesn’t it?” Hans looked around at the growing dungeon campus. Though they had logged a good bit to clear space for the dorm and to have the lumber to build it, the immensity of the forest around them and the grandeur of the Dead End Mountains looming overhead was humbling and calming at the same time. Sometimes feeling insignificant next to nature was deeply comforting.

Charlie savored a long inhale. “This is the real magic of Gomi. Pretty darn peaceful around these parts.”

“Anything specific you wanted to see?” Hans asked. “Happy to give you a tour.”

“Oh, no need. Tandis took care of us already. We’ll be out of your way first thing in the morning.”

Galad approached to join the conversation while Galinda followed the Master Carpenter to the opposite side of the dorm. Hans figured their shared interest in woodworking gave them plenty to discuss.

“Guild Master,” Galad said, shaking Hans’ hand. “Hope you don’t mind the visit.”

“Not at all. When the road is done, I suspect we’ll have regular visitors from town.”

Galad handed Hans a folded piece of paper. “Speaking of progress, here’s the list you wanted,” Galad said as Hans unfolded the note. “I talked to everyone in Gomi. These are all the trades our people have knowledge of. Not all masters, of course, but reasonably proficient.”

The list was longer than Hans expected. He supposed their rush of refugees before last winter brought in more talent than any of them realized.

Gomi had at least one of the following:

-Blacksmith

-Carpenter

-Fletcher

-Mason

-Alchemist

-Tanner

-Leatherworker

-Book Binder

-Glass Blower

-Jeweler

-Brewmaster

-Farmer

“That list is pretty long,” Galad said. “Still think the dungeon can support that many apprentice crafters?”

“I’m not sure about professions like book binders and glass blowers, but I think the rest of these are manageable.”

He ran through each trade and the basic materials the dungeon could produce for them. They could also use the dungeon to farm rare resources, but for now, their goal was to produce enough raw materials to keep a craftsperson and their apprentice busy. The fancy stuff could come later.

With the Dead End Mountains as a neighbor, they had no shortage of stone for masons, so that profession needed no help from the dungeon.

For blacksmiths, they would grow iron elementals for a steady source of raw iron. Fletchers would use local wood for arrow shafts and use harpies for feathers. They hadn’t tried it yet, but Hans hoped camahueto leather was as good as cow for tanners.

Tainted treants would provide wood for carpenters in the long term, not that they had any shortage of that. Though Becky said it was fine, Hans worried the Lady of the Forest would take issue with the scope of their logging efforts as they were now, let alone if they were larger.

Sand elementals were a potential source of glassblowing materials, but they needed to confirm that with an actual glass blower first. Hans loathed those monsters and wouldn’t be sorry to have them crossed off of his list. As it stood now, though, sand elementals were his best idea.

Olza already pushed for diamond elementals, so a jeweler would at worst have diamonds and iron to work with. For the amount of silver and gold a jeweler could reasonably use in a year, Hans hoped one of their other monster additions to the dungeon could carry enough of either to sustain them.

Speaking of Olza, the dungeon would have no shortage of reagent-bearing monsters for alchemists. Her list grew everyday, so for now Hans focused on her first request: a mandrake elemental. The Lady of the Forest gave him a memory of one, and he planned to put it to good use.

As for farmers, brewmasters, and book binders, Hans was at a loss.

Quest Update: Expand the dungeon with resource-specific monsters for each of Gomi’s major trades.

“Don’t worry too much about those folk,” Galad said. “We can keep them busy with work at the Tribe.”

Charlie nodded. “Besides, we already have too much to sell. Poor ol’ Uncle Ed will be living on his wagon at this rate.”

“Galinda had an idea about that, actually.” When Galad saw Charlie raise an eyebrow, he chuckled. “It was 30 seconds ago. She hasn’t had time to tell you.”

“Then by all means, please continue.”

“Anything we can’t sell and don’t need to stockpile, we donate. From everything we’ve heard about the orc attacks, lots of folks will need to rebuild from nothing.”

Hans and Charlie both liked the idea but were concerned about what the logistics would mean for Uncle Ed’s runs to Raven’s Hollow and back. The stocky country boy said he didn’t mind, but he used to spend every day looking after Kane and his little brother Gunther. Anyone who knew the farmer-turned-smuggler could tell he missed them.

“Two wagons is already not enough, so I agree delivering anything is going to be a challenge,” Galad said. “Ed will need more men, that much is certain, but perhaps we can work through our distributor to make that easier.”

All of Gomi’s goods–beer, oil sacs, imp blood, camahueto horns, and minotaur horns–went to one distributor in Raven’s Hollow. Being two towns away made the journey itself about as short as was possible for a place as remote as Gomi, and the distributor took care of the rest.

Hans and Galad had never met Doorstop, but according to Uncle Ed, the merchant seemed upstanding and trustworthy, despite his comfort doing business under the table. The big turning point for Uncle Ed was hearing Doorstop rant about the “stupidity” of blaming tusks for any part of the orc war. Doorstop didn’t know Ed’s wares came from Gomi, but that perspective made him more of an ally than a vendor, in Uncle Ed’s mind.

“If he’s amiable, going through Doorstop would be good for Gomi,” Charlie said. “We can’t take credit anyhow, so he can use us to build up goodwill in his business. Makes us even more valuable as partners.”

Charlie and Galad asked Hans when he planned to return to Gomi, suggesting they talk more about it with Uncle Ed directly.

New Quest: Secure a way to use surplus dungeon inventory for good.

“In a week or so,” Hans answered. “As soon as Bel and Lee get here with the rest of the Apprentices, we can start farming iron elementals.”

***

Open Quests (Ordered from Old to New):

Progress from Gold-ranked to Diamond-ranked.

Mend the rift with Devon.

Using a pen name, complete the manuscript for "The Next Generation: A Teaching Methodology for Training Adventurers."

Expand the dungeon with resource-specific monsters for each of Gomi’s major trades.

Decide whether or not to pursue silent walking and snow walking.

Suggest growing mandrake elementals to the dungeon core.

Secure interior dungeon doors without trapping adventurers inside.

Find a way for Gomi adventurers to benefit from their rightful ranks in the Adventurers’ Guild.

Build a rest area in the dungeon to improve adventurer recovery.

Secure a way to use surplus dungeon inventory for good.