The next few days were, thankfully, as normal as I could have asked for.

After a brief visit myself to the Red Thicket to check things out, I agreed with Ferrisdae’s conclusion that the Rage Rot had somehow become so ingrained with Grandfather Red that it had become a part of the dungeon itself. With my permission, she brought in the High Priestess of Shaneere, a local nature goddess, to help get to the bottom of things when all I could offer was ideas and potential solutions. It was a strange event to be sure, but one that would give us new insights the more we researched it.

When Constance Dar Fesuande couldn’t remember the names of the dungeons that met similar ends to the Red Thicket, which was something I found completely believable after meeting the spaced-out druid for the first time, I had to look for them the hard way.

Because of that, most of my time was spent in the Adventurer’s Consortium’s basement. I had the full, undivided cooperation of two clerks, Ridalelle and Algretori, which was all the help Taramelle could afford to give me. Both of them had been working in the record room for years and were likely the most competent helpers I could have asked for.

Dorostreff never bothered us. Unlike what I had initially thought, he wasn’t proving to be a flight risk. Perhaps he felt secure in his seat of power, heir to one of the most powerful families in Athir, or perhaps he really was just a buffoon. Only time would tell at this point.

In the records room, my “office” was a table covered in folders and documents. These were all for dungeons that had been taken out of circulation in the past two hundred years, as well as those that had a Certificate of Destruction filled out for plague and diseased based reasons. The net was wide, but it was getting smaller with each passing day.

Both Ridalelle and Algretori were constantly on the hunt for folders that fit my criteria. The ones I finished looking through went straight back where they had come from, and new ones were placed at the bottom of my piles so I got through them in a linear fashion. It was a very efficient system.

What turned out to be a headache was the sheer amount of dungeons that fit the criteria. Athir might have been mostly forest, but it was still a big country with a long, well documented history. That did not mean I could read everything, though.

The ruling that the files had to be written in Imperial Standard was only around a hundred years old, which meant I needed a translator from Elvish for some of them. Taramelle had started the daunting process of converting the old records, but it was a task that would take literal decades with the manpower she was allotted. She started the program with the most recent dungeons, but that still left me with about 25% of the documents in Elvish.

“So this is what the basement of the Consortium looks like,” I heard Cojisto say as he was led towards me by Ridalelle.

The freckled Elven woman had her platinum hair up in a tight bun that matched well with her stern expression. “Dungeon Inspector Badger, the adventurer you requested is here.”

“Thank you, Ridalelle,” I said. “Feel free to start on the next round of translations after your break.”

“Yes, sir,” she said with a nod before walking out, leaving us alone. Every Consortium employee had mandatory breaks, and I wasn’t about to strip any of my helpers of them even if I worked through my own.

“You look like you’ve been busy,” Cojisto remarked, shifting some of the folders on the desk.

I slapped his hand, but a shimmer of energy protected him right above the skin. That was his Fluid Force, the magical ability he got from going through the Dungeon Master’s story. He hadn’t shown any signs of being disturbed by the process, even back then. When Moose came out with magical powers, all he could think about was how he could use his new abilities for adventuring.

He was simple like that, but trustworthy.

“I’ll admit, I thought you and Moose would be gone by now,” I said as I realigned the folders he had touched.

Their contract work with the Department of Dungeons was only supposed to last for a few days. Conquer some dungeons, assess how dangerous they were, and report back to me with any information they thought was relevant to the case.

It was unfortunate, then, that Cojisto loved to talk; to him, every moment of their so-called heroics were worth mentioning. This often overshadowed the things I usually thought were actually important. Ferrisdae may have enjoyed his tales of derring-do, but it just seemed to me that he liked the sound of his own voice.

“Well, you know, we were already coming to Athir to adventure,” he replied. “Now that our job with you is done, I figured we could still do that. And this way, if either of you needed us, then we’d still be in the neighborhood.”

I was about to tell him that we didn’t need him, but stopped myself. He was here because I did need someone to check something out.

Rather, I’d prefer Moose to check it out, but I knew Cojisto was a non-negotiable addition.

“Your insight seems to have paid off this time,” I said, and he grinned at me. “But wipe that smile off your face. This is serious business.”

Cojisto nodded, trying to put on a stern face. “Right, yes, of course. I’m very serious,” he said, unable to hide the glint of excitement in his eye. “Will we be partnering up with you this time? Ferrisdae? The whole party back together?”

“We were never a whole party, Cojisto,” I sighed. “And I’m about five seconds away from finding a different pair of adventurers.”

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“You’d trust others when Moose and I are here?” he asked, confused. “After everything we’ve been through, you’d rather find someone who knows nothing of the situation?”

I stared at the Human for a moment before picking up three folders, because I really didn’t want to answer that question.

“These are three defunct dungeons,” I explained, handing them to him. “The Leaf Blade Grove, the Emerald Sinkhole, and the Karst of Vile Spores.”

Cojisto raised his hand. “What’s a karst?”

“Essentially, it’s a cave with water in it,” I explained, giving him the most basic answer I could.

“Okay, neat. A sinkhole and a water cave. Moose will be excited to go spelunking.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Will he?”

“Oh, yeah,” Cojisto said, leaning back in his chair. “He loves that kind of stuff. Forests, caves, other natural formations. So long as he can fit, he’s happy. In fact, that silver mine we explored together is in his top five.”

My mouth opened on its own to ask another question, but my mind was active enough to hold the words back. This wasn’t something I needed to know.

“Excellent. Then I would appreciate it if you could check them out,” I said instead. “I had Algretori make you a map so you know the best route to hit all three in a timely manner. You’re to go, scout, and report back to me.”

Nodding, Cojisto opened the first file and started reading through. I watched him as he did, and the look on his face changed from its usual confidence to an all too familiar confusion.

“Badger?” he asked slowly. “This one no longer exists. Why are we going to a dungeon that doesn’t exist?”

“Because, on paper, the Red Thicket doesn’t exist either,” I answered. “It had a Certificate of Destruction just like these three, and all four had similar circumstances. I want you to check them out and see if they’re actually defunct.”

Cojisto furrowed his brow and checked the other two folders. “Okay, I know I’m not the smartest adventurer out there, but these are decades old,” he stated, tapping one of them with his knuckle. “How could it be that, if they still exist, no one has stumbled across them? The brain thing would be a dead giveaway.”

“The DTER,” I corrected. Then, I frowned; that was actually a fairly good question. “Do you remember the wagons in the Thousand Year Blizzard?” I asked.

“I’d never forget them,” he said with a grin.

“Right, and you remember how there wasn’t a DTER inside of them?” I continued. “You and Moose wandered around and didn’t come across anything out of the ordinary until you stumbled across a dungeon inside the overdungeon.”

“Oh, yeah. That was really weird.”

“It was. When I was back in…” I trailed off, thinking of my fight with CC. That was privileged information, and telling Cojisto about it would open a line of questioning that I really didn’t want to deal with. “Recently, I felt a different kind of emotional response in a dungeon. One that wanted me to submit instead of being vigilant.”

Cojisto made a sour face. “Ugh, that sounds horrible.”

I nodded. “What I’m getting at is, there seems to be an uptick in weird ways for dungeons to manifest lately. Now, these are old, I know that,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “There’s no guarantee that these are going to factor into the big reason why Ferrisdae and I are in Athir, but I still want you to check them out. Grandfather Red isn’t the first to fall to this kind of thing, and I’m leaving no stone unturned.”

“Even when that stone is old and overgrown.”

“Especially the stones that are old and overgrown,” I corrected.

“Do you think it’s really something we should spend time on?” he asked, scratching the back of his head. “Not that I doubt you or anything! Cause I don’t. It’s just, these are old, like you said. I mean, old old. You think someone’s messing with dungeons once, what? Every fiftyish years? Who has that kind of patience?”

“Cojisto,” I said firmly, giving him my best deadpan glare.

“Yeah, Badger?” he asked, having the common decency to look at least a little sheepish.

“We are literally in the land of the Elves,” I replied evenly. “It doesn’t matter if it’s 50 years or 200 years, it’s all a drop in the bucket for them. As an example, Ferrisdae isn’t even as old as the Leaf Blade Grove, she’s still in her late teens, and she’s nearly three times my age. This is not a long time for them.”

The man paused, his eyes drifting away. I saw his fingers lift off of the folders in his hands.

“Don’t try to calculate my age,” I said with a scowl.

“I wasn’t!” he lied, holding his hands up as if that would placate me. “But, to get back to what’s important, we’ll take the job. Moose and I will enjoy the scenery to nowhere, I guess, and chat for a while.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I would appreciate it if you two could go sooner rather than later.”

“Do you want us to grab Ferry on the way?” Cojisto asked.

“No? Why would I want you to grab Ferrisdae?” I asked, confused.

“No reason,” he said quickly. “But you’re also not coming with us?”

I blinked before looking down at the mountain of folders still on my table. “Not only do I still have to finally go visit the Dark Elf Quarry, but I have to prepare myself for a meeting with the Anne Runelaras. So, no, it’s just you and Moose. If I had time to do this, then I would have gone myself.”

Cojisto stood up. “We’ll get the job done as soon as possible, Badger, you have my word on it.”

“I appreciate that much, at least,” I sighed. “And if you do find that the dungeons are still active or they’re overgrown with fungus or parasites or anything dangerous, don’t go into them. Just make a note, and move on to the next one.

“Gotcha. We’ll be back before sundown, promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I warned. “These are very far out of the way, and any paths leading to them are likely to be overgrown.”

“You forget that Moose is very, very fast,” he replied with a grin. “Anything else, Badger?”

“No. Be safe.”

“You, too,” he said jovially, giving me a sharp salute before heading out.

Sighing, I rubbed my temples with my fingers. After reading through those particular files, I had a bad feeling about them. However, if it was Moose and Cojisto, then they would probably be fine.

Without letting myself worry all too much, I started going through the next set of documents. It would only be a few minutes before the Consortium break time was over, and I wanted to make sure I could keep Ridalelle and Algretori busy when they returned.