The elven mage, Legolias, stroked his long blond hair thoughtfully, watching two helpers wrestle with a cloth-wrapped ring in the courtyard of the mage academy. He approached them: "Okay, you need to squeeze the ring here until both sides touch. Now twist the sides against each other until it forms a figure eight. Good... Now fold it around here so that it's a ring again."

Following his instructions, the helpers pushed and squeezed until they had a flat, round bundle one step in diameter. One of them, visibly straining, held it against resistance on both sides. He looked at the mage: "How does this work now?"

"The wooden tires were made elastic through alchemy and have a spring-like tension, as you just noticed. Now, throw the whole thing into the empty space."

The helper looked suspiciously at the package he had just folded with great effort. He shrugged and threw the bundle a few meters in front of him. It twisted and turned, then sprang into a hemispherical tent. The surrounding mage students applauded. Legolias bowed to his audience, then went to the tent, marking two places with tailor's chalk: "We need openings here and here so the rings can be tied together with a short piece of rope once it's folded. With a little practice, one person can do it alone. This way, the tent can be easily transported. The runes and gemstones for the necessary enchantments should be engraved here in the frame."

An older magician who had been watching silently stepped up next to him, glancing at a clipboard: "After the first three attempts, I wasn't expecting success anymore."

Legolias glanced at the tattered tarpaulins and broken wooden tires waiting to be taken away at the edge of the pitch: "It wasn't easy to remember exactly how it was set up. I've never dismantled a pop-up tent at home."

"It turned out surprisingly well. I didn't understand the concept at first, but seeing it makes it simple. The alchemical solutions are relatively cheap, and the construction is easy for a journeyman carpenter now that we have the exact setup. What enchantments are needed now?"

"Nothing really, as long as the tarpaulins are waterproof. But the tents will sell better with a magical anchor. A modification of the root spell should work, along with water resistance to withstand heavy rain and temperature enchantments against heat and cold." He looked thoughtfully at the tent. "Can the tent be enchanted to be bigger on the inside than on the outside?"

The mage chuckled and patted him on the back: "You're funny. That would require a level 5 enchantment for the Bag of Holding effect to contain living creatures. At that size, we’d need all the mages and students at the academy for about a month to gather the necessary mana. That's beyond our means, at least until a few of you revenants reach archmage status again."

"One can always dream."

"For luxury models, we could add illusionary camouflage, drying, and self-repair."

Legolias shook his head slightly: "Almost every group now has spell foci for drying, simple repairs, and cleaning. But cloaking sounds useful."

The older mage frowned disapprovingly: "Spell foci... I would love to know who makes these artifacts. The head of the academy has sent messages to all mages in the area, but no one knows who makes them. We couldn't even find out who buys such quantities of magical wood and mythril. The manufacturing method must involve magic, as the mythril structures are very fine and inside the wood core. Extremely material-saving, efficient, and with high precision." He stared grimly into space.

Legolias waited, then coughed: "Master Rundrakun, how could you make such complex structures? Is there a crafting skill for that?"

"Ancient legends mention such skills, but they can only be learned by heroes of Grandmaster level."

"But there aren't any in the world at the moment."

Rundrakun nodded: "Correct. So, there are really only two explanations left: Either a dungeon has specialized in producing complex artifacts..."

Legolias snorted with laughter. "Yeah. Sure."

Rundrakun shrugged, amused, and continued: "... or someone has found one of the lost artifact forges. Work sites where legendary revenants crafted their artifacts. The first were completed around a year before the end of the Necromancer war and gave our allies a huge advantage. These archomechanical constructions require incredible amounts of resources, gathered by entire guilds worldwide over the course of the war. One forge is in the capital, owned by the High King. The second was destroyed by necromancers."

"And the others?" Legolias waited tensely for the answer, but the older mage only laughed: "What others? Those are the only two whose locations were ever made public. There's supposedly another in the realm of the elves and another on the Elysian Isle."

Legolias interrupted him: "Let me guess, the artifact forge on Elysian Isle only makes toys?"

"Of course. Magical toys and artifacts that only work on the Isle of Children."

"Are there any older artifact smiths?"

Rundrakun swayed his head thoughtfully, then shrugged: "There have always been rumors. But nothing concrete. Perhaps one of the elven high mages who still has the ability to build an artifact forge has survived. But then why is he wasting time making comparatively weak artifacts in large quantities?" He stroked his beard: "Maybe it's a new kind of inferior artifact forge, capable of producing artifacts but with significant limitations in complexity or material selection. Or simply limited to spells up to level two."

Legolias realized they had strayed far from the topic and pointed to the tent, which had been folded up again: "Is that enough for our agreement?"

Rundrakun paused, then nodded: "Yes, of course. It's a technique from the revenant world that could be adapted for our purposes. In return, I will teach you for a week as agreed. What should we start with?"

"Magic missile training. I can't manage to raise the spell from journeyman to master level. I've been at Journeyman-X for a week and have already done all the exercises in the textbooks dozens of times."

The older mage laughed and patted him on the back: "You've been studying at the academy for six weeks. That's commendable, but it doesn't work like that for revenants. You need adventures, quests, practical experience. Study will get you to journeyman level, but not beyond." He patted Legolias on the shoulders encouragingly as he guided him toward the exit. "Go out and use your spells. Then come back, and I'll show you how to refine your technique. Or I'll teach you a few new spell components you can integrate into your formulas."

Legolias found himself out of the courtyard and stood in the corridor, undecided. He shrugged and wandered through the academy to the exit. He stopped in front of the academy, looking around with a lost expression. The streets were full of NPCs and heroes. Where could he find a suitable quest now? Most were overcrowded or required unpopular travel times. As a mage, he was bad at sustaining long fights or solving non-magical problems. Being a mage was cool, but a fighter could wave his sword all day. He usually ran out of mana after five minutes of fighting. And without magic, he wasn't viable against opponents of his level.

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

One of the passing adventurers, a mage in a colorful robe, saw him and stopped: "Legolias?"

The elven mage grinned briefly before his face darkened. He stepped back, raising his staff menacingly: "Darken O' Mighty... we meet again. The master of the darkest magical arts is up to his unholy mischief!"

Darken struck a pose and declaimed: "This time, the light of your white elven magic will not triumph! Feel the power of dark... homeopathy!" He flung a vial, which he had fastened in his sleeve with a leather strap, directly onto the ground in front of Legolias. The elf made a quick gesture with his open hand, and a wide jet of flame vaporized whatever the vial had contained.

Fleetfoot rolled her eyes, "Seriously?"

The two dropped their threatening stance, embraced briefly, and patted each other on the shoulders.

"I haven't seen you for weeks. Seemed like you disappeared off the face of the earth. Are you ok?"

Legolias waved it off: "I've been looking into the new magic system. These modular spells are fascinatingly versatile. And what are you up to?"

"Well..." Darken looked around furtively. "We've found something..."

Legolias gestured for him to continue.

"We have discovered a hidden quest."

Fleetfoot snorted: "He bought it from a dodgy street dealer."

"He isn’t... We've worked with this guy before. Remember the story with the giant snail? He was fine. And the artifacts he got us are great. The prices for them have gone up a lot since then. We got our spell foci for a bargain."

Fleetfoot nodded reluctantly. Legolias beckoned them into a side alley. "A quest? Can you use some help?"

"Actually, we already have a magician."

Legolias looked around in mock confusion, pretending to search for someone behind Darken. The master of the dark arts snorted: "Yes, of course, I mean me!" He shrank into himself a little and continued more quietly: "But you're right. We'd have a much better chance with a classical magician as well. Do you have time?"

"I've just been thrown out of the academy because I need practical experience to improve my skills further. And a few levels with the associated feats wouldn't hurt either. What's the quest about?"

Darken made sure no one was within earshot, leaned over to Legolias, and spoke softly: "We bought an access pass to a secret dungeon."

Legolias backed away: "You can be sold anything. There is no..."

Darken frantically motioned for him to be quiet, moved closer again, and continued quietly: "We don't pay until we've been in the dungeon and are satisfied. No advance. Nothing."

Legolias was confused. This didn't sound like a usual scam. Were they trying to lure the group into a trap and rob them? Possibly. He had never heard of secret dungeons. As soon as one appeared, it was immediately located by numerous artifacts. The Adventurer's Guild and several of the great churches then spread the word. Quests popped up, and adventurers flocked there until someone could regulate access, either emissaries of the guild or the crown.

"Tell me more."

"We got an address and an access pass for a magical portal that leads to the Assassins Guild training dungeon."

"There's no... okay, there's probably a super-secret assassin guild somewhere. But they won't reveal their training methods."

"Access only works when the assassins are not training. They rarely need the dungeon. At least, that's what my informant says. It's only for advancing to journeyman level."

"I'm already at level 6."

"Never mind. We're all at level 5 after going up and down the last few levels like yoyos. I've lost count of how many times we've died in the last few quests. In the dungeon, we'll all get to at least 6, and you'll get to 7. There's bound to be endless loot. We could use it. It's expensive to keep replacing equipment lost in battle."

"When do you want to start?"

"We're on our way now. Do you need any more equipment?"

Legolias waved him off, pulling a vial from a hidden pocket in his robe. He uncorked it with his teeth and drank the glittering blue liquid. He checked his stats in the menu, then nodded: "Mana is full again. Everything else was already at maximum. I have my staff and a dagger. We can start our adventure right away."

A few streets further, they waited at a fruit stand for the group's warrior, then set off for the outskirts of the city. The sun slowly set and disappeared behind the high mountains. Magical crystals on wooden poles at crossroads began to glow from within. Legolias noticed figures jumping from rooftop to rooftop. Fleetfoot followed his gaze and grimaced: "Amateurs. They bounce too hard without absorbing their weight or rolling. I'm sure it rumbles all the way down to the cellar of those houses. Bloody noobs who think they're skilled thieves."

Legolias nodded, keeping an eye on the shadows on the roofs. He had no desire to be ambushed.

Half an hour later, they arrived at a relatively quiet bathhouse. At the reception desk, Darken presented a metallic disk, though Legolias couldn’t make out the details. The receptionist directed them to the bathtubs in the back room.

The group made their way through the bathhouse. Most patrons were leaving. A rotund merchant, drying his hair with a towel, passed by and gave the group a curious glance. He leered at Fleetfoot and sneered, “Three men at once? That’s going to be a long night. Enjoy yourselves.”

Fleetfoot's hand flew to her dagger, eyes flashing with intent. Darken swiftly placed a calming hand on her shoulder, holding her back. The merchant, his laughter fading, hastened his pace and cast a wary look over his shoulder as he hurried away. "That rotten little..."

Darken pulled Fleetfoot behind him, pushing her, Legolias, and Bernd into the designated room before following and bolting the door securely.

The room, like the rest of the house, had plank walls and floors. In the center was a large tub, nearly three paces in diameter, filled with steaming water. Legolias circled it, soon noticing a round pattern of inlaid runes with a ruby at the center—a heating artifact. Though the enchantment appeared fairly common and inexpensive at first glance, the runes were intricately crafted and seamlessly inlaid into the wood, far better than what he'd seen at the local academy. It didn't quite fit the bathhouse’s rustic decor but suited a building owned by a powerful organization.

Returning to the door, he scrutinized it: “The door looks like the others we’ve passed, but the wood grain is different. This is black oak—heavier and harder than most woods. I once had a shield made from it when I was a knight with a previous character.” He ran his fingers over the metal bolt, adding, “It’s very securely fastened. No one’s getting this door open easily.”

As he turned back, he saw Darken counting the planks on a wall. Darken measured three hand-widths up from the floor, placing a finger on a knothole. Moments later, he found a second one an arm's length away and pressed both simultaneously. The indentations closed as his fingers withdrew, leaving no visible change. Darken calmly braced himself against the tub and, with surprising ease, slid it almost silently across the floor, revealing a trapdoor beneath. He held a coin over the trapdoor, and it sank down.

Bernd approached the opening, puzzled: “The hinges and handles looked like they should open upwards.”

“If you had pulled it, a trap would have been triggered.” Darken explained.

The warrior glanced around nervously but found nothing amiss. Meanwhile, Fleetfoot examined the ladder. She pulled a stick from her shoulder bag—far longer than it should have been. Using the hook at the end, she prodded several points on the ladder. “Seems safe. No traps down here, but the trapdoor does have a trigger. There’s a pulley system underneath, but I can’t tell what it activates.”

The group descended into a cellar room that was completely empty, save for a wall with a stone ring set into it, surrounding a smooth black stone surface. The ring was adorned with copper and silver inlays and numerous intricately arranged gemstones.

Legolias whistled, impressed: “Wow. This could take us to the other end of the continent.”

Darken nodded. “Remember, you can’t tell anyone about this. If the Assassins Guild finds out we used their dungeon, our characters won’t be safe from being hunted anywhere. This is one of those stories where the AI ignores game balance entirely.”

Bernd pushed past him and thumped his fist against the stone wall: “Blah, blah, blah... We know. Darky, open the portal!”

Darken touched the portal circle with a coin. The light reflections vanished as shadows filled the circle’s interior, accompanied by a low, ominous hum. He tossed the coin into the portal, where it disappeared. “The Wandering Shop merchant said we have one minute to cross after I throw the coin through. Anyone need to do anything?”

Everyone shook their heads, except Bernd, who quickly downed an elixir, his skin turning slightly grayish.

Legolias nodded approvingly: “Stoneskin elixir. Quest reward or did you find a store selling it at a decent price?”

“One of the few useful quest rewards from last week.” Bernd raised his shield, gripped his sword, and leaped through the portal with a short jump. The others followed him.