The Walled City of New Frausta had been the home of the Department of Dungeons for the past 400 years. The abundance of dungeons dotting the countryside and sewers appealed to both new and veteran adventurers. The nostalgia for their lower level days and the city's position near the center of the continent also meant that it was a great city for high level adventurers to begin staging their expeditions.

White stone buildings rose from the center of the city tall and proud, with shorter towers surrounding those, and even smaller ones around those. From afar they appeared to make a large dome. You could see them from anywhere in the Frausta Plains surrounding it.

The silence of the journey had been exactly what I wanted. With Ferrisdae drawing up the papers for Sevensleg I was free to lose myself in my books, meditation, sky watching, or whatever else I wanted to occupy my time with. There had been times where she obviously wanted to ask about my books or some such, but she upheld her end of the deal.

The line to get into the city was long and full of adventurers, merchants, and other travelers. We trudged alongside them like royalty, and I assumed some must have thought that we were after seeing the magic steeds and Ferrisdae sitting regally in the back. Others scowled at us skipping the line.

We showed off our badges at the gate. After a cursory glance, we were let inside. I could see Ferrisdae shaking. The very moment the carriage cleared the gates, she burst. "That's very sneaky of you, saying that all your talk is small because you are," she blurted, as if that had been on the tip of her tongue for the past day and a half.

"Maybe you should have read the contract first," I said cheekily.

In response, she stuck her tongue out at me. Her attention was then immediately glued to the city. This close to the wall didn't feel as claustrophobic as it did deeper in, but we were still surrounded by three story buildings on all sides. The streets were lively and bustling as people came and went along with their business. A group of children ran alongside our carriage, awestruck by the magic. One of them was brave enough to touch one of the astral horses before the whole lot of them ran off, laughing.

"This city is amazing," Ferrisdae said. "Every time I come through here, it's like… how could someone build something as awesome as this?"

"Poor city planning," I told her. She laughed like I had told a joke, and I continued. "When the gnomes came from the southern continent, they helped rebuild Frausta into New Frausta. Since the walls were still strong, they decided it would be easier to build up than expand."

"Why didn't they just build communities outside of the walls?" Ferrisdae asked.

"The Gnomes wanted to, but Humans are stubborn and refuse to look past their own lifespan, so they told the Gnomes to build within the walls," I answered.

"Ah. That… that does make sense," she admitted. "Alright, let's chalk it up to poor city management. Still amazing to look at."

“Only from the right angles,” I said with a shrug. "Take a right up at the next street."

As the buildings got taller, the streets began to split with ramps to accommodate. The tallest building in the city was ten stories tall, and that was where King Kezler and the royal family lived. The ones around it were seven stories, except for one. There were three levels worth of roads and the higher you went, the more opulent things got.

Of course, the opposite was true, and those who lived in false sunlight instead of the real deal had it hard. There was always something to strive for, I suppose. A lot of great adventurers pulled themselves up from the Bottom. No one liked to mention all the ones that didn't.

The second tier of New Frausta was called the Middle, and was where the Department of Dungeons’ main office was located. People tended to get out of your way if they thought you were someone powerful, and the ostentatious magic Ferrisdae cast to make our transport was certainly that. We made it to headquarters faster than I ever had before, so maybe riding with Ferrisdae wasn't so bad. This time.

We disembarked in front of the open doors of the department and Ferrisdae dismissed the spell. The carriage disintegrated into stardust and slowly faded out of sight along with the horses.

The lobby of the Department of Dungeons was wholly unremarkable. The first view one saw was a plain black desk. Sometimes there was a Human behind it. Sometimes, a Dwarf. It didn't look out of place with the dark gray carpet and the light gray walls. Two white doors flanked the desk.

I greeted the receptionist, Merlk the Dwarf, with a nod and turned to Ferrisdae. "You go ahead and turn in the paperwork we’ve drummed up. Meet me in Brackenhorst's office when you're done."

"You got it!" Ferrisdae said. She went left and I went right.

I opened the door and the relatively quiet lobby was filled with the sounds of shouts, screams, and someone crying. Several rows of desks filled this large room, each hosting a member of the DoD. Darting between desks was a mousy Human woman, her light curls bouncing as she was constantly being pulled in several directions at once.

"Hang in there, Millicef," I called as I walked past the zoo. She lifted her head and glanced at me, but quickly went back to work.

I walked towards a set of double doors, and it was here that I knocked.

"Unless you have the answer to how the exiled son of Sultan Jareet turned his father's palace into his own personal dungeon, I don't have time for you!" Brackenhorst yelled from his office.

I thought about that for a moment. "It's the Laroda Jareet Desert, so it has to be item based,” I yelled through the door. “Rituals wouldn't work because it's been a magic starved zone ever since the Third Sultanate tried to summon their dead god to prove it was still alive. He probably got the item from the neighboring kingdom of Alashroe, if I had to wager. They’ve been pissed ever since the sultan said a banshee’s singing would be more palatable than their queen’s."

Silence. Then, "Badger?"

"Yes," I confirmed. "I am Badger."

"Well, come in already!"

I opened the door and slid into the chief's office. Papers littered the desk, appearing to be tossed on top of it haphazardly. A stack had fallen into one of the chairs meant for guests. It looked like no effort was made to clean it off; clean any part of the office, really. Behind the desk and taking up the entire wall was a parchment map of the continent with several small, glowing dots indicating where dungeons were. In front of the map was Brackenhorst.

Brackenhorst was old even for a Dwarf. His face had much in common with a bulldog, jowls and all, and his bald head was waxed with nothing hiding his many liver spots. The magnificent white beard he proudly showed off, however, commanded respect. Nine braids dangled from his chin, one cut short, and from there it split into more and more braids to signify his children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

He squinted at me. "Have a seat, Badger," the Dwarf said, taking a seat himself. "How is it that you always have these tidbits of knowledge in your head?"

"There's trivia night at The Bottoms Up every Wednesday and Saturday," I explained with a shrug. I didn't sit down.

"Weird place to learn things, son," he said. His eyes flickered to the closed door and then to me. "Where's the rookie?"

"Authorizing a provisional license for a night in the forest for Sevensleg," I answered.

Brackenhorst nodded. "And how is she doing? Keeping up with you?"

I thought this question over. Ferrisdae certainly showed promise, but I only saw her in action twice. While she could have made some unnecessary calls in Krad's dungeon, she clearly retained most of her training. The bravado she showed Sevensleg could have backfired spectacularly, but I had no idea how strong she really was. These were all things that could be rectified with time.

"She needs experience," I told him honestly. "I'd recommend pairing her with Justisius or Liddy. Both have extensive knowledge of de-escalation and have written some of the best dungeon critiques I've seen."

"Both are excellent choices," Brackenhorst admitted. "But, no; she's staying with you. There's no getting away from it this time just because of your record. It has to be you."

I scowled, then schooled my face so that it was just a frown. Despite wanting to protest, I didn't say anything. I knew it wouldn't do any good.

"Don't get all twisted, Badger. You are literally the only Dungeon Inspector without a rookie under their wing. Hell, most have two. Justisius and Liddy both have four because they're so reliable."

I sighed. "Should have just said she was terrible."

"That wouldn't have worked," Brackenhorst said with a chuckle. "I vetted her personally. She's a diamond." I didn't say anything to that, and the Dwarf slumped in his chair.

"That bad around here?" I asked after the silence settled.

"Bah." Brackenhorst waved his hand. "The sultan is one thing. We haven't seen this many spontaneous dungeons in nearly four centuries. That was the Southern Continental Dungeon that forced the Gnomes to flee here."

That made me pause. The Southern Continental Dungeon had been an extinction level event that left the whole landmass barren for centuries. The colonization effort to reclaim the land was less than a half century old and news coming back had not been good.

The worst part was that the Gnomes made terrible witnesses. We had no idea what caused the dungeon or who its owner was. The reports all varied wildly from a dragon who exhaled poison, to an exploding man clad in leather, to a gigantic walking volcano. Everyone had a different story, and not a lot of them made sense.

Brackenhorst must have sensed my thoughts because he barked a laugh. A fake one, but he tried. "Don't you fret, Badger," he said. "We're a lot more prepared for something like that than they were. We're coordinating and-" A knock on the door interrupted him.

"Brack, it's Ferrisdae," she called through the door. I scoffed at the use of her name for the chief.

"Come in!" he instructed, and she entered the room. She had a big smile on her face that only grew as she looked at me, like she wanted to say something. Ferrisdae sat in the lone remaining chair as Brackenhorst waved to it. "Straight to business, then I've got to kick you out and get back to work."

The chief leaned against his desk and looked to Ferrisdae. "Are you familiar with the Land Pirate Raitheus Razorbeak?" She shook her head, and he looked at me.

"Raitheus Razorbeak is a high level scoundrel," I answered. "Him and his crew of brightly feathered Avians, a humanoid bird race, circle the continent in his caravan. They're one of the few mobile dungeons. They are under strict orders to only steal money, goods, and cause property damage, not take the lives of citizens. They've been unusually cooperative for the past year or so, though. We would have gotten rid of him, but he's the distant cousin of the northeastern continent's emperor. Not close, but related enough that it could cause an international incident."

Brackenhorst nodded. "Some time in the past month, we're not sure when, he added four more dungeons to his caravan." He looked at Ferrisdae. "Each wagon is a separate dungeon in its own pocket dimension. The way he has them set up, you have to enter the rear car, find the key in that to the next one, then the next. Normally he has 8 wagons, but this brings him to 12."

"That doesn't seem like too much trouble, though," Ferrisdae said, looking between the two of us.

"Normally I'd agree with you. Per the rules, he has been eligible for a larger caravan for a while now, as reluctant as we may have been to grant it," Brackenhorst replied. "Unfortunately, reports from a few days ago state that the caravan is back down to eight. Four of the carts are missing. Would you like to take a stab at which ones?"

The answer dawned on me immediately. This was not good. "The lead wagons," I said. "The Land Pirate Raitheus Razorbeak has gone rogue."

"That's right," Brackenhorst said. "As I was telling Badger before you arrived, Ferrisdae, everyone is busy. I've got people looking into the Zaruv Dungeon Cluster because two of them evolved on their own recently. I've got people trying to dive to the bottom of the Crurak Reef because a local fish god had a dungeon form around it. There was a complaint about adventurers being attacked with numbers by some blue haired Human woman. Can you believe that? Numbers! Sounded like a hoax but I sent Deresca anyway, and that turned out to be nothing at all."

After shaking his head, Brackenhorst looked at Ferrisdae. "Badger is going to be your permanent mentor. And," he paused, turning his head to me. "He won't complain about it in my presence."

Ferrisdae clapped her hands. "I'll keep him in line, chief," she claimed. I rolled my eyes.

I pursed my lips in an attempt to show how unhappy I was with this arrangement. It didn't have any effect; they already knew I was. "So we're trying to find Razorbeak and, what?" I asked. "Return him to his caravan?"

"No," Brackenhorst said, scowling. "We've subjugated his caravan, and it’s been decided that you'll do the same with him. He stole something from the city-state of Berald and left a lot of bodies in his wake. He's going to be removed, politics be damned. The royal family has already signed off on it."

“What did he steal?” Ferrisdae asked, leaning forward.

Brackenhorst shrugged. “Berald didn’t think it prudent to tell us. They were being very nervous about the subject, though, so it can’t be anything good.

"If his caravan is gone, then do you have any clues of his whereabouts?" I asked.

"We followed his tracks into the Thousand Year Blizzard," Brackenhorst said, pointing to the very top of his map. "This is only the 757th year, so we can't wait it out, obviously."

Ferrisdae had a strange look on her face, so I explained what it was. "The Thousand Year Blizzard was a spell cast by the winter witch Scelara. It was meant to cover the world in snow but she was betrayed by her mother, and now it only affects the northern region of the continent. It's such a huge magical storm that tracking of any sort is nigh impossible."

A pause. "So Razorbeak's a needle in a haystack?" Ferrisdae asked.

"Basically," I confirmed.

"But there is one who could help," Brackenhorst said. "Oristrella."

I groaned. "Noooo."

"It's the only option, Badger," Brackenhorst said. He turned to Ferrisdae again. "She lives in the Ice Caverns of the White Wyrm."

"Because she is the White Wyrm," I huffed, turning to Ferrisdae. "Chromatic dragons are some of the worst dungeon bosses to talk to. Most won't negotiate until you've beaten their dungeon and often them. You can swing the Doorknocker until you die and, after telling you to sod off, they'll ignore you until your corpse dissolves."

"It's also after the Winter Solstice, which means her annual kidnapping has taken place," Brackenhorst added. "Oristrella always captures a noble around this time of year. Then adventurers are sent to get them back. She may be too busy and want to send you on your way quickly."

"That's an insane thing to hope for," I said.

"I've always wanted to meet a dragon," Ferrisdae said at the same time as me. We both looked at each other, then back to Brackenhorst.

"Great, then it's settled," Brackenhorst said with a clap of his hands. "I've already talked to the Mage's Guild, they'll be able to teleport you to the city of Crystal Snows tomorrow morning. Be there at dawn. You're both dismissed."