Devon’s griffon team now included five total riders, counting the Paladin. Hans met them at the New Gomi griffon ranch as they descended to land.

  “Everything okay?” Devon asked as soon as he saw Hans waiting.

  “No emergency.”

  The Paladin seemed relieved. “I need a minute to get him wiped down and to put the gear away.”

  “I’m in no hurry.”

  Hans watched as the riders hitched the griffons to posts and unbuckled the dozen or so straps that kept the saddles in place. Behind them were the beginnings of a barn, a proper place to store tack and care for mounts. They didn’t exactly need shelter from the weather, seeing as they were in a dungeon, but Hans could appreciate wanting privacy in addition to eliminating outside distractions for the griffons.

  After another twenty minutes or so, Devon finished stashing his saddle and harness and returned to Hans. They sat on one of the chairs at the top of the New Gomi hill and looked out over the farmlands of Leebel’s Rest.

  “How are the other riders doing?” Hans asked.

  “Pretty good, I’d say. Honronk and Galad are talking about moving a few of the birds to the Tribelands since we know they won’t just fly away, but that’s not decided.”

  “Why the hesitation?”

  “Honronk wouldn’t be nearby to help.”

  “...or address an emergency,” Hans added as a guess.

  Devon nodded. “Yeah. Telling people the griffons are safe is different from making them live next to them. There’s too much forest for us to use undead patrols as an excuse either. Can’t see much of the ground from the sky when the leaves are in.”

  “I can appreciate wanting a griffon or two near the surface after our titan problem.”

  “I’d like our post at the pass to have a griffon too,” Devon said. “I’d feel a bit better knowing a rider will fly a warning to us if something important is heading to Gomi. Especially now that, you know.”

  “The Lady of the Forest isn’t doing us favors anymore?”

  “Yeah. Or do you think she’ll come around?”

  Hans laughed. “I have no illusions about that happening. Maybe in twenty or thirty years, when I’m dead and Quentin takes over, she’ll have a change of heart.”

  “Quentin?”

  “Part of our pact was that my oath with the Lady would transfer if I died. Quentin doesn’t have to take the responsibility–he might not even be living in Gomi at that point–but he was my best choice for a future leader.”

  “I’d agree with that. He’s a smart kid.” Devon took a big gulp from his waterskin and wiped his mouth on his forearm. “So what brings you out here?”

  “Nothing in particular. Our paths haven’t crossed much recently, so I wanted to check in and catch up.”

  “I’m not causing any trouble. I promise.”

  Hans shook his head with a chuckle. “That’s not what I meant. Gods, you’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

  The Paladin looked at the Guild Master, confused.

  “You’re my friend, and I like spending time with friends.”

  Devon grinned. “Aw! You missed me.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Well, shucks,” Devon said with exaggerated gratitude. “I missed you too, big guy.”

  “Very funny.”

  Giving himself a few more seconds to laugh at his own jokes, Devon finally said, “Nah, I missed our talks as well. Having responsibilities and things to do is bullshit.”

  “Agreed.”

  “How’s training going with Vaglell’s prodigy?”

  Hans took a big inhale and puffed his cheeks as he exhaled.

  “That good, huh?”

  “They’re making it very hard for me to not turn into one of those people who complains about ‘kids these days.’”

  “What’s the snag?” Devon asked.

  “That’s just it,” Hans answered. “I can’t nail it down. I mean, there are obvious problems, like they don’t prep for runs as a group, and they bicker a lot if something goes wrong, but I can’t figure out the source.”

  “Those aren’t the sources?”

  “You’ve seen them in the training room. They’re solid technicians, even during group drills. Performing in the field is a common hang-up, but usually that comes with nerves or fear or doubt. They don’t seem to have that.”

  “Interesting.”

  “I’ll take any hints you have from your read on them.”

  Devon shrugged. “I’ve done a good job of avoiding them. Vaglell messed up my head too much, and I don’t want his influence anywhere near me, not even his star pupils.”

  “They’re not Vaglell, though.”

  “I know that. I’m not mean to them or anything. I just don’t want to hear about what things are like in Hoseki with me gone, and I don’t want to be a part of whatever report they’re going to take back.”

  Nodding, Hans said, “That is going to be an interesting report.”

  “He’s got to be playing an angle here, right? One day we suspect the guy of colluding with orc liches, and the next day we’re rolling out the welcome wagons for him?”

  “You know it’s not like that.”

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  “That came out more pointed than I meant it,” Devon admitted. “I just don’t trust him.”

  “Neither do I, but Bridun’s party isn’t seeing anything that any other visiting adventurer wouldn’t see. If they are spying, they won’t have anything new to share.”

  “I suppose that’s fair.”

  Hans considered Devon for a moment before asking, “You think about Wargod a lot, huh?”

  “All day, every day,” Devon answered. “I’ve been training for him.”

  “What? You have?”

  “Yep. Mazo still comes along for the Standing Stones, but I run it solo, tityos and mojoka included. I’ve been doing the thing you taught us where you take away tools for yourself to make a battle more challenging.”

  “That advice was for what to do if you’re sparring a newbie.”

  Devon shrugged. “It’s helping. I know it’s not the same Wargod we saw with the liches, but I bet his style and habits are similar.”

  “That’s a reasonable assumption,” Hans conceded.

  “My job is to protect Gomi,” the Paladin continued. “I don’t want a repeat of the lich room fight. My shit was useless against his Barrier spells.”

  Hans held out his hand. Devon passed him the waterskin.

  After a drink, Hans asked, “What’s the solution?”

  “That’s what has me worried. I know that I can get through with enough speed and force against the younger Wargod, but the oldest one laughed in my face when a Barrier broke. He just put up a new one.”

  After he handed the waterskin back to Devon, Hans leaned forward and rested his chin in his hands as he thought.

  “You got something,” Devon said, leaning forward as well. “What is it?”

  “You’ll hate it.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “I think I can.”

  “Try me,” Devon insisted.

  Hans braced himself. “I’ve never seen or heard of you calling on your god for aid. That’s a typical thing Paladins do, right? Look to their deity for a blessing?”

  “You’re right. I hate that idea.”

  “I’m not a fan either, to be clear,” Hans said. “Seeing Yotuli’s prayers get stronger and stronger makes me think there’s something to that. You’ve just never been in a situation where you needed to ask for help.”

  “I don’t want his help.”

  Hans shrugged. “And that’s fine, but I don’t see any shame in calling for backup if you’re fighting a lich who has a few thousand years of training on you. Keep in mind, if the Tainted Caves are really your god’s memories like we think, he didn’t succeed on his own either.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Wargod is still alive. Your god encountered him four times that we know of and failed to kill him in every case.”

  Devon frowned and sat back. “You think Wargod is that strong?”

  “He’s 4 and 0 from what we know. I’m not saying start praying every day or anything like that. Keep the option in mind, though. If you need it, don’t let pride be the thing that kills you. That’s a really lame way for a hero’s story to end.”

  Yotuli found Hans in his Forgeborne office after a training session. She politely asked to come in and took a seat.

  “I want to do more,” Yotuli said. “Doing runs with other parties is fine if the dungeon is culled, but I don’t feel like I’m improving enough.”

  Hans had a similar worry, but not because Yotuli couldn’t improve. Her usual party–Kane, Quentin, Honronk, Chisel, and Buru–were all traveling. She knew the Minotaurs well enough, but that wasn’t the same as running with her core allies.

  “Based on what?” he asked.

  Yotuli looked at him curiously.

  “What are you using to measure and assess your progress?”

  “How I feel,” Yotuli replied.

  “We’re still going to talk about your options for more training, but I’d ask you to be careful thinking that way too often. How you feel matters, sure, but it’s a terrible way to self-assess. If you’re like me, you’ll always think you’re terrible and that you could do better, regardless of how you’re actually performing.”

  Yotuli nodded. “I see your point. It’s noted.”

  “Have you talked to the Cleric in Ewan’s party by chance?”

  The tusk nodded.

  “What came of that? He’s Gold-ranked and seems to have a good mind for adventuring.”

  “Organized religion is… interesting,” Yotuli began, choosing her words carefully. “How much do you know about their faith?”

  “Uhh… I think they worship some kind of smithing god that established the first dwarven stronghold underground. I don’t remember his name.”

  Yotuli grinned. “Well, for future reference, dwarves likely wouldn’t appreciate their god being reduced to a ‘smithing god.’ His name is Tlepsh, and the stories say he made the underground safe by driving away the demons who lived there and then closed the gates to the hells so they couldn’t come back. He represents civilization, in a sense. Yes, he was known for the weapons he made, but he is much more than that to the dwarves.”

  “That does sound pretty different from Daojmot.”

  “It is. Ewan’s party strives to become Narts, which was the name given to the heroes blessed by Tlepsh to protect and grow the dwarven kingdom. From what I’ve learned, becoming a Nart is aspirational rather than literal–as no Narts have existed since Tlepsh’s time–but that’s not how a Tlepsh Cleric sees it. To Ewan’s people, Nart is achievable with enough dedication and enough service to fellow dwarves.”

  “Whereas you have no progression structure or definitive ideal to aspire to,” Hans guessed.

  “Correct.”

  Hans stroked his beard and thought deeply for so long that Yotuli said, “I don’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable position. You don’t have to come up with an answer just because I asked.”

  “Advising a Cleric is definitely one of my more challenging responsibilities,” Hans replied, laughing. “But you know… I heard a story once where a Cleric prayed and prayed for direction from his god but never got an answer. He noticed, however, that his Cleric abilities were still as strong as ever. After meditating on it for a while, the Cleric decided his god hadn’t responded to his prayers because he had already provided the answer in the form of his blessing. If his god’s blessing was in him and guiding his choices, then all he had to do was to follow his heart. Wherever his heart went, his god would be.”

  “And what happened?”

  “He grew more powerful so he could help more people.”

  Yotuli stood abruptly. Hans thought he offended her at first, but he soon saw that she was so deep in thought that she needed to pace.

  After several laps, she paused. “So you think I should trust Daojmot to take me in the right direction?”

  “I think you’ve made an incredible amount of progress by trusting your own convictions and doing what you feel is right. I know the Merchant played a role there, but I don’t think his role was as large as you think. To me, he confirmed ideas and beliefs you already had.”

  “Okay…”

  “I’d still encourage you to spend more time with the dwarves while they’re here. I suspect you can learn from how they practice their beliefs, but I also believe in not messing with something if it’s working. You’ve gotten this far by looking within, so keep doing that.”

  The Daojmot Cleric paced a bit more, chewing on Hans’ words. Then she stepped forward and gave him a hug.

  “Thank you,” she said and let herself out, closing the office door behind her.

  Hans didn’t actually own Volume 8: Rough But Righteous, the Haynu novel where his Cleric story originated, but he resolved to intercept any such copy that might find its way to Gomi in order to keep it from Yotuli. She didn’t need to know that Douglas, the Cleric in Hans’ anecdote, had to sleep with Rhubme, the goddess of chafing, to prevent the apocalypse. And that was a shame because it was one of the funnier Haynu stories.

  You’re a bad influence, Gret.

  Open Quests (Ordered from Old to New):

  Monitor for independently grown sections of dungeon.

  Complete the next volume (Bronze to Silver) for “The Next Generation: A Teaching Methodology for Training Adventurers.”

  Manage the ongoing establishment of a Hoseki-grade library in Gomi.

  Learn to help your advanced students as much as you help beginners.

  Decide how to manage breeding requests for monsters like mimics and shadow scorpions.

  Relocate the titan bones to the dungeon entrance.

  Offer Diamond quests to Ewan and his party.

  Prepare Bridun and his party for Silver.