Halfway through the trip to the Adventurer Consortium’s Athir branch location, I decided it wasn’t the right time. While it was open throughout the night, I didn't think there would be someone with the credentials to assist me. Instead, I went back to the Tall Tree Tav for the night with the intent to go in the morning.
The rooms seemed to have been carved from the hollowed out tree itself, and the walls, floor, and ceiling had the same patterns as the heartwood. It was comfortable enough, even if the beds were always too large in the lands of taller folk, and it came with all the necessities. One of the things I paid extra for was a magical washbasin. Expensive, but worth it.
The staff had accommodated me when I asked for rooms without access from the outside, and a simple noisemaker in front of the door in case someone opened it was all I needed. If someone wanted to portal directly into my room, there wasn’t much I could do to stop them, anyway. It wasn’t a perfect defense, but it allowed me to sleep.
It only felt like minutes had passed before a knock woke me up.
“Badger?” Ferrisdae called from the other side of the door.
“I’m up,” I said drowsily. “Give me a minute.”
Taking a breath, I threw off my blankets and got up. I splashed my face with water from the basin and dried off before getting myself ready for company. Putting away the noisemaker, I opened the door to see an incredibly tired Ferrisdae.
She took one look at me and giggled. “I'm exhausted from being up all night, but how come it looks like you’re even more tired than me?” The Elf seemed jubilant, even if her words were slurred from fatigue.
Arching an eyebrow at her, I shook my head. “Do you have a report?”
“Of course I do, Badger,” she said with an exaggerated nod. “But I don’t trust myself to give it this state, so I’m going to give you my notes and go lie down. I’ll be fine after a couple hours of sleep.”
“Will you at least tell me if everything went well?” I asked.
Ferrisdae reached into her Pocket and pulled out a stack of paper. “Still ongoing,” she announced perhaps a bit too loudly, giving me a sloppy salute as she handed me the report. “We thought it’d be done by morning but stuff’s more resistant than we thought. It’s all in there.”
“And Cojisto and Moose?”
“Moose is helping with his Holy Moose powers, so Cojisto escorted me here and then went back to the dungeon,” Ferrisdae replied, yawning. “Got a bit of sleep in the carriage, but spent most of my time writing the report for you. It’s all there.”
I nodded along. Cojisto and Moose being on their own made them easy targets, but Ferrisdae was a higher priority. It was good that she hadn’t been alone. While I was sure she’d at least be able to drive the Blackwood Queen off on her own, especially with Oristrella’s boon allowing her to inflict a freezing cold whenever she casts her spells.
Then, I frowned. “Did Cojisto go back after saying something asinine like he wished he would get attacked in the middle of the night so he could fight someone?” I asked. Ferrisdae took a moment to think about it before nodding, and I scowled. “Whatever. He’s either okay or he’s not. You go get some sleep; I have to go visit the Consortium.”
“Weren’t you going to do that last night?” she asked. Her eyes tried to focus on me, but she was having trouble. “Did you get more injured than you let on?”
“No,” I lied. “It was late, and I didn’t want to talk to some night manager who didn’t know anything. Go sleep, Ferrisdae.”
Another sloppy salute. “You’ve got it, boss,” she said before wandering to the room next to mine. I took a moment to make sure that she had the key and everything to get in, and only returned to my room to get ready for the day after I heard hers lock. That was one less thing to worry about.
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With a bagel in one hand and the report in the other, I left the Tall Tree Tav. The people of the city were wide awake, and Athir was full of the hustle and bustle of city life. It wasn’t nearly as packed as it was in New Frausta, but the people here weren’t as used to looking down for smaller folk and I found myself needing to dodge my way through the crowd.
It would have been easier if I weren’t reading.
According to Ferrisdae’s report, the Rage Rot was proving to be resistant to the Treesingers' attempts to cure it. Their magic wasn’t generally used to heal Treants or other plant-like creatures, but it still worked. The head of the druidic group, Constance Dar Fesuande, had remarked on its virulence.
The report went on to say that Moose had started helping. The Dungeon Master had imparted on him more healing abilities, so his efforts towards helping the Treesingers was doing wonders for their efficiency. Ferrisdae was also impressed by the frequency at which he could cast magic, continuing to help even when some of the younger druids had to stop.
Apparently, he was quite impressive. Given the fact that he was literally a magic moose, I had to agree with her.
Stolen novel; please report.
The only scuffle that broke out was a minor one, and the Treant that started it was the first to get treated as the others stopped their attack. With so many druids in one place along with Ferrisdae, Moose, and Cojisto, there was no way anything bad was going to happen to the healers.
There was nothing left to do but wait for the Treesingers to finish their work with Moose’s help. They estimated healing the Treants of the Red Thicket would take until evening when they factored in breaks to restore their fatigue and magical reserves. It was taking a while, but at least they were getting care.
The Adventurer’s Consortium was easy to find. It was situated in the center of the city along with the Mage’s Guild tower in what the Elves considered their Noble District. The building was large and made of stone and marble with wide, decorative pillars in the front. There was no need for a sign to tell people this was the Consortium; all of their buildings looked like this.
The foot traffic slowed down the closer I got until it became obvious that the vast majority of people visiting the building were adventurers. People armed to the teeth with all sorts of weapons and armor sporadically came and went from the entrance. The old, the young, men and women, Elves and non-Elves alike frequented the building, showing off just how diverse the Consortium was.
I walked inside into a large hall. To the left was the Remembrance Wall. Several rows of candles were lit on tables designed for them, each with names of the fallen written on them. Some groups of adventurers were here, either making sure candles were still lit or saying short prayers for people who were no longer with them.
Staring at it for a moment, I had to agree with Cojisto: it did seem like there were more lit candles than usual.
Turning from the Remembrance Wall, I started walking towards the lines on the right. The Consortium wasn’t known for its bureaucracy, but that didn’t mean people could come and go all willy-nilly. Newcomers had to take tests to get their license, and they had to be renewed every few years. For a fee, of course; they would go bankrupt tomorrow if their services were free.
Adventuring without signing up with the Consortium wasn’t a crime, but there were a lot more pros to signing up than going solo. Legal assistance was one of the biggest reasons to join, but it also gave discounts when buying and selling from specific stores or freelance craft workers, paid for funeral costs in the event of death, and helped with things like housing for families.
All in all, it wasn’t bad. It had been good for me that the other members of Reliable Rhodes, especially my wife, had all been a part of the Consortium. I had not been a willing signatory of their forms requiring me to give away private information that I didn’t want anyone having. The privacy laws were much stricter now than they were back then.
Walking past the people waiting in line, I pulled my Department of Dungeons badge from my Pocket and stepped up to an Elven woman who still appeared to be getting ready for the day.
She put on her best customer service smile, but it was strained. “Sorry, sir, but I’ll need you to wait in line before you can see anyone.”
“Under normal circumstances, yes,” I said, sliding the badge onto the too-tall counter. “Dungeon Inspector Badger. I need to speak with the person in charge of records.”
Green eyes flicked from me to the badge before she gestured towards a door not far from me. “Of course, Inspector. Please wait in the next room, and we’ll be with you shortly.”
“Thank you,” I said, retrieving the badge. When the clerk turned to leave, I did the same, heading through the door she told me to.
The waiting room was pleasant. There were pamphlets to read while waiting with everything from easy to understand weapon tutorials to thicker ones detailing the temples of the city and the deities they worshipped. Out of curiosity, I grabbed the one for Cheroske.
Flipping it open, I saw that the temple to the Goddess of Community was also one of the largest orphanages in the city. This was fairly standard. The one in New Frausta was the same, though it doubled as a soup kitchen and ran a block for people who were down on their luck. So long as they were trying to get back on their feet, they had a place to stay. The church’s track record was surprisingly good, though it helped when an actual divine presence was helping out.
Leaning back on the plush couch, I looked up at the ceiling where a simple chandelier hung and idly played with the pamphlet.
I’m sincerely thinking about going down that path again.
That was what I had said to Tabitha, and I had told her that it was because the world was becoming more dangerous. Because I might need the extra strength. I had moved on before I could really get her take on things and talked about the Southern Continental Dungeon instead.
Tabs knew I didn’t really want to say much more, and she hadn’t pushed it. She gave me advice as I was heading out the door, but that was different than having an actual discussion. Still, I took her words to heart, even if the reasons I gave weren’t the whole story.
I raised my hands and looked at them. Their skin was covered in scars, a thin burn crossed my right palm, and they were covered in calluses from years of practice with a sword and shield. These were hands that had purpose. Determination. Hands that knew what they were made for.
Still, they weren’t in their prime.
I could tell that I was close to where I used to be, though; the Dungeon Master’s boons were significant.
But I wasn’t what I used to be. After my fall I didn’t learn or develop any martial arts, nor did I have access to the meager spellcasting afforded to me as a paladin. It was penance. Not one that was demanded of me, but one that I took on myself. At the time, it felt fitting, and my skills eventually adapted so that I didn’t need it.
That was a particular point of pride for me.
“It would be foolish to say it wasn’t because of power,” I muttered to myself. “But that’s not all it is.”
I hadn’t lied to Tabs, nor would I. I just didn't tell her everything. The biggest fact I hadn’t mentioned was that it felt good to have a god like that watching out for me, Ferrisdae, Moose, and Cojisto. When Cheroske came because I called her, and so quickly at that, it had struck something in me. Something I missed from my days serving Tegril.
Taking a breath, I shook my head. That had been a long time ago, and I was sure a part of it was just nostalgia. Whether it was the daydreams of a man pining for something he'd lost and near forgotten didn’t matter so long as the feelings were real.
The door across from me opened and the Elven clerk was there. “Dungeon Inspector Badger, Head Adventurer Dorostreff will see you now.”
"Excellent," I said, standing up. The Head Adventurer was higher than I expected to see, but I wasn't going to argue. I began to follow the clerk.
Not before deciding to take Cheroske’s pamphlet with me, though. I stuffed it into my pocket before I left.