The camp was bustling with activity when I returned, most of it centered around the obelisk. I was surprised to see it standing already. My expectations were that they would be digging for quite some time before getting to a depth that was safe enough for it not to fall on a nearby building.

The first place I checked for Ferrisdae was our tent since it was closest to the entrance. She wasn't there.

So I wandered towards the center of the settlement. Although the crowd was starting to disperse, the smell of dirt and sweat lingered, a testament to the hard work required to put the obelisk into place. The juxtaposition between the beauty of the crystal pillar with the smell of men at work was almost sacrilegious. Almost.

The crowd passed me by with curious looks that I pointedly ignored. I hadn't seen any other Halflings yet, so I assumed I was an oddity just like my junior and moved on without fuss.

Ferrisdae was sitting at a parchment-covered table near the obelisk. It looked like they had dragged the table out of the mess hall specifically for her. Keith Carr hovered over her shoulder, watching her write, but she seemed engrossed with her work. Ferrisdae’s eyes glowed purple, the tell-tale sign of magic detection, and every so often she looked back up at the obelisk before returning to her work.

As I came up beside them, Keith Carr noticed me first. He took a step back from Ferrisdae, as if he thought I might have thought he was standing too close to her. I didn't have time for that right now.

"Mr. Carr," I said in greeting. If he wasn't going to insist on a noble title, I was just fine calling him mister. "I have some things that I need to speak with Junior Dungeon Inspector Ferrisdae about privately."

"Dungeon Inspector Badger," Keith Carr greeted with a nod. "Of course, I should be returning to my duties. Ferrisdae's insights into the obelisk have just been incredibly compelling so far."

"I'm sure," I said dryly. I didn't believe that what she found was what compelled him at all, but his aura was still orange so I didn't want a confrontation. Not here, anyway.

"Bye, Mr. Carr," Ferrisdae mumbled absently.

With a few more words, Keith Carr took his leave and I looked over her work. Ferrisdae was writing in Elvish. My skill in the language was rusty as many places I was sent had adopted the Imperial Standard as their national language. Regardless, I tried practicing patience as I waited for her to reach a resting point.

Elvish script was an artistic affair with many swoops and curves that could mean different things based on application and surrounding words. There was a lot that could be misinterpreted by simply not knowing enough about the language. It was said that it even took Elven youths upwards of sixty years to become fluent in the letters, words, and grammar.

So when I started reading Ferrisdae's notes and couldn't decide if the obelisk was a lake of mongoose or mud that had been caked onto a wagon's wheel after a sun shower, I decided my few years of learning didn't cut it and waited for her to explain what she wrote.

That didn’t mean I had to be unproductive, however. "Do you mind if we share the table?" I asked, stepping back from her notes.

Ferrisdae hesitated before pulling her notes to one side. She didn't say anything, returning back to her work instead. The young lady really did throw herself into things.

After a quick word to the bartender, I acquired a chair for myself and took over the free end of the table. Grabbing a few pieces of spare parchment, a quill, and an ink well, I got to work.

It wasn't often that I drew dungeon maps while still in a dungeon. I had a good eye for detail, and all but the most elaborate of dungeon layouts stayed with me for a long time. Since leaving the dungeon wasn't possible because we hadn't found the exit, this would have to do. We shouldn't be attacked here in the settlement, at least.

I let my eyes wander through the camp, taking in details I hadn't noticed before as I began to draw. The wooden buildings were all made of the same wood as the palisade, but Keith Carr's home was made of a darker material. Was his lumber imported? I guessed he had been serious about the town of Carrage from the beginning.

Besides that, smaller details caught my eye. The fresh pile of dirt that was displaced by the efforts to plant the obelisk. Stamped dirt trails that showed that the most visited buildings were the equipment shack and the mess hall. The pile of "offerings" left for Gar in the form of broken pickaxes, haphazardly tossed near the blacksmith's door.

Just as Ferrisdae fell into a trance with the obelisk, I started doing the same with my cartography. Not having my usual tools made it go by slower than usual, but rather than being annoyed by it I actually found it refreshing to return to my roots. The settlement was small, anyway, and the work wouldn't go on long enough for the novelty to wear off.

By the time I snapped out of it, I was almost finished. Ferrisdae had been as well, apparently. She sat with her elbow against the table, resting her chin on hand, and stared at my map.

"You have really nice handwriting for a boy," she said, running a finger along the building's labels.

I arched an eyebrow at her.

"A man, I mean," she quickly corrected, jolting into a rigid sitting position. "Just a guy in general."

I snorted and shook my head, and that was the only response I gave her on that front. "I had a revelation down by the river," I said, returning to my cartography. "I was laying on the river bank when I realized that I don't feel the emotional response inherent to dungeons. I'm not sure if that's just a feature of this new class that was thrust upon me or if it's really not there, so I sought you out."

"The DTER?" Ferrisdae asked, raising an eyebrow.

The Dungeon Threshold Emotional Response, or DTER, was a feature of every dungeon. It stimulated a fear response in regular people to warn them of danger, and it kept adventurers on their toes so that they would stay alert. You would always know if you were in a dungeon because of this.

"Yes," I answered.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"Of course I feel it, we're in a dun…"

I watched as her face scrunched up in confusion."Well?"

Her eyes seemed unfocused as she stared into the air, and she muttered words to herself that I couldn't quite hear. "I don't think so," she finally said, then nodded. "No, I'm sure. I feel apprehension at our current situation, but it's different from a dungeon response. It feels more natural."

I nodded again, then sighed. "Yes, it's the same as I felt," I said. "Run of the mill anxiety towards the unknown situation we find ourselves in without the added sense of dungeon dread."

"Yes, exactly," Ferrisdae confirmed. "Which isn't supposed to happen, obviously, but I think I know why."

Just as I was about to finish the last details on my map, I stopped and leaned back into my chair. My Human sized chair. Annoyingly, I had to scoot back. "I'm all ears," I said once I settled.

Ferrisdae turned her chair to face mine and she leaned back. "Okay, so you know the reason for the growth of magic crystals, right?"

I held back the urge to give my junior a glare for asking such a question. "It's residual magic from the dungeon," I said, trying not to sound rude since it was obvious that I would know. "Once the dungeon regenerates its denizens, the excess magic built up from the process needs some place to go, and it shows up in the form of crystals. The energy released from clashes with adventurers are also gathered into these crystals, and both factor into the quality and purity of the magic power held within."

"Absolutely right," Ferrisdae said. Then, she gestured towards the obelisk. "This is, by all accounts, an empty magic crystal."

"Magic crystals disappear without any magic in them," I said tentatively. Of course, I'd rather believe her, it was just against every known law of magic.

"That is correct, but…" she trailed off, gesturing towards the obelisk.

"And magic crystals bloom like flowers, not start off empty," I continued.

"Also correct, but…" Another gesture.

"But a crystal that size would take hundreds of years to fill," I said, exasperated. "And if it weren't being kept together by magic, it would collapse in a brittle heap of useless materials."

"Badger. Sir," Ferrisdae sighed, then waved her whole arm at the obelisk. "Do you not see me waving at it? You can bring all the facts you want but it doesn't change the fact that this is a huge, gigantic, empty magic crystal."

"You forgot to mention impossible," I added. She just frowned and waved her arm even harder. "Okay, okay! I get it! I guess it's not the most impossible thing I've seen lately."

Ferrisdae smiled as I conceded, and blew her hair out of her face. "No, it's not," she agreed. "And it is slowly being filled. Very, very slowly. Over the course of centuries, like you said. I would probably still be alive by the time it's done, though."

"Yes, rub it in, Elf," I said. "Is there any information you found out that would be pertinent to our situation?"

"To our situation inside the dungeon? Not as such, no," Ferrisdae admitted. "But if it's being fed magical energy from this wagon, then it's likely being fed by the dungeons in the other three as well. If that's true, then it's being filled faster than it normally should."

"We knew it had been turned into a dungeon cluster," I stated. "But that would only change the charging time from centuries to decades, depending on the quality of…" My brow furrowed as I thought it through.

"Of the adventurers inside," Ferrisdae finished for me.

"But even with a boost in our power - tiers, I guess - I can't imagine the expenditure would be worth what they're getting out of it," I said.

"They might not be planning to use it for anything," Ferrisdae commented. I gave her a sharp glance. One did not gather power like this for no reason. "Well, the Dungeon Master, Master of Dungeons is new, right? I mean, no one’s heard of him before? He may not know the rules governing dungeon magic."

"It's overwhelmingly clear that he doesn't know the rules," I said, not bothering to hide my distaste. "But with the resources available to him, like the illegal magics that Himia commands, he absolutely should. He should have known about them since Oristrella, if not sooner than that."

A silence descended on us. We both watched the obelisk, though her eyes were filled with curiosity while mine were filled with disdain. I didn't like not knowing things. Though, I was glad she had something to occupy her mind. I took a look at her through the corner of my eye and she looked contemplative, like all of her energy was being spent focusing on this problem.

"If my math is correct," Ferrisdae said slowly. "Then I'd put the charge time, with only one dungeon, somewhere around two hundred and fifty years, give or take thirty years. So I would definitely still be alive."

"Cocky kid," I snorted. Tearing my eyes away from the obelisk, I returned my attention to my map. A few more strokes of the quill over the stables and I set it down. "Done."

As I looked over my work, satisfied with how it turned out, dark ink began to cover my map. "What in the world?" I exclaimed. My first thought was that Ferrisdae knocked over the inkwell, but it was still standing. She wasn't anywhere near it. Her gaze was stuck on the ruined map.

I looked back at it in time to see the parchment start absorbing the extra ink. Only the lines I drew remained.

"What was that?" Ferrisdae asked, leaning over my map.

“I think you already know that I have no idea.”

Her eyes flashed purple as she looked down at the parchment. "You drew a magic map?" she asked, answering her own question with another question.

"If you say it's magic, then apparently I did," I said. "Somehow. Definitely not on purpose."

Ink returned to the parchment in the form of dots that started littering the map. Most of them were small and black, one was a black star inside Keith Carr's home, and two dots were green between the obelisk and the mess hall.

A quick glance confirmed that the dots marked our location. I was hesitant to interact with it, but my junior had no such reservations.

"Is that supposed to be us?" Ferrisdae asked loudly, excitement lacing her voice. She pointed at the green dots and touched one of them. Ink swirled from the dot.

Junior Dungeon Inspector Ferrisdae Anne Runelara - Celestial Enchantress

Ferrisdae gasped. "That is us!" she laughed, then tapped the other green dot. My green dot.

Dungeon Inspector Badger - Dungeon Inspector

I exhaled, releasing a breath that I didn't realize I was holding. It said Badger. That wasn't a conversation I wanted to have, especially with Ferrisdae.

Who was currently tapping more dots with rampant glee, starting with the black star and the other dot in the residence.

Viscount Keith Carr

Maid Mizzorie

Blacksmith Gar

Foreman Vinh

Miner Dahle

Miner Renald

Guard Jesuf

"This is amazing!" Ferrisdae said. "Hold on, I'm going to go see if these people are really where the map says they are."

Before I could say anything, the young Elf started running off. I shook my head, but did nothing to hamper her enthusiasm. Anything that distracted her right now was welcome. Ferrisdae was hiding it well, but I knew it was only that: hiding.

My attention returned to the parchment in front of me. One of the green dots was now zipping all over the place. I contemplated what this would mean.

If I had to make high quality maps, then using this ability could get annoying. If I could use other people's maps, then it got much better. I was already looking forward to the ways I could apply it. This was going to come in handy, and it was time to experiment.