Hans commandeered the research room devoted to gazer artwork and artifacts to speak with Ewan and his party privately. All six dwarves couldn’t fit on the bench across from Hans, so Ewan and his two fighters took the bench while the Rogue, Cleric, and Black Mage pulled seats in behind and around them to be a part of the conversation.

  Hans smiled to himself that the party kept a front and backline even in a business meeting.

  “Appreciate you all taking the time,” Hans began. “We need to sort out your Diamond quests, but-”

  “So you’ve decided to trust the dwarves?” Ewan asked, grinning.

  “Let’s not use language as strong as ‘trust.’”

  Ewan laughed.

  “Yes, the Borderless Association of Adventurers would be honored to align with the Hunter’s Guild, and that begins with getting you all to Diamond. The process for finding those quests is a bit convoluted, but you should know that when we say a quest is good for a Fighter or good for a Rogue that we are making a best guess. We are certain a boon is to be had, but we don’t know exactly what it is.”

  The dwarves nodded as they listened.

  “The Adventurers’ Guild in our kingdom established a policy of making Diamond quests solo endeavors. We’ve learned, though, that a party can run the quest and all earn the same boon, but that adds another complication, which is what I wanted to talk to you about. Since everyone gets the same boon, that means it could be really good for some party members but less fitting for others.”

  “How do you mean?” Ewan asked.

  “Say I sent you on a quest for a Fighter boon,” Hans explained. “That’s great for your Fighters, but a Cleric and a Black Mage might not find it as useful. There’s a chance it’s good for a Rogue, but there’s also a chance it isn’t.”

  “Ah.”

  “Yeah, that’s too big a decision for anyone but yourselves to make. Here are the options we’ve come up with: You can all take the same Diamond quest, but that sucks for reasons we just discussed. Alternatively, we can divide the party to send folks after different boons. That’s easy enough to do for three Fighters, but that means you backliners have to decide whether you want to double up on a quest that might not be perfect for your class or wait until another adventurer in the Association is ready to run it with you.”

  Ewan cocked his head, slightly confused, so Hans went into greater detail to explain the process he, Devon, and Mazo designed. In addition to a Fighter quest, the Association had two quests that could fit a Rogue and one that could fit a Cleric. They would have a Mage boon available eventually, but the real issue was deciding whether one or two of the party members pursued a less-ideal boon or waited for a better opportunity.

  “How long of a wait ye picturing?” the Rogue asked.

  “As soon as we have a second Rogue in the Association ready to test, you both could go,” Hans answered. “I’d expect to know our options by the end of the summer in terms of who on this side of the border might be ready to rank up. We could also pull from the Hunter’s Guild if you’ve got a Gold Rogue you wanted to promote, so then we’re talking however long it takes to get word to them and back.”

  The Black Mage raised his hand. “But rather than wait, we could all take a Cleric or a Rogue quest?”

  Hans nodded. “Yes, but I want to be very clear that what you do is up to you. We’d like to send at least two adventurers after any particular boon because they seem to be getting rarer, but I don’t think it’s the Association’s place to decide anything beyond that, which is why we’re having this conversation.”

  The three backliners–the Rogue, the Cleric, and the Black Mage–leaned in toward one another and exchanged a whispered conversation. After a minute or so, the huddle separated.

  “We’ll take the Cleric quest,” the Rogue said.

  “All three of you?”

  “Yes. If that’s okay.”

  “It’s perfectly okay,” Hans replied. “I’m just a bit surprised, is all, but yes, all three of you can pursue a Cleric boon.”

  Ewan turned to address his adventurers. “You lot sure about this?”

  “Aye,” the Rogue answered. “Our people need Diamonds now. It’s better for them if we get back home as soon as possible. The way we see it, our role is to open the door for the rest of our hunters. Braiding our beards for another year or two slows everyone else down.”

  The old dwarf studied his backline members, as if weighing their commitment and their resolve. After a moment, he nodded and turned back to Hans.

  “It’s decided,” Ewan said. “What’s next?”

  Hans went into an explanation about the quests they had and what they knew. The dwarves had been in and out of the dungeon enough to see the murals at the entrance, so they were vaguely familiar with the Cleric quest. They knew it took place in a desert, but they weren’t aware it was the Last Desert and that the specifics of what needed to be done when they got there were unknown.

  As for the Fighter quest, that one was new. Mazo had generated it only a few days ago in anticipation of this meeting. The location for that quest was on the other side of the kingdom and then a few weeks into the frontier, ending at an unnamed mountain range. The mural depicted a humanoid creature walking among mountains with an axe, and the proportions suggested it was some variety of giant or cyclops, but that was a guess.

  Ewan whistled. “We’ve got quite the walk ahead of us.”

  “Yeah, you do,” Hans agreed. “It’s not a perfect midway point, but I’d suggest heading to our sister chapter in Mikata as a group and splitting up from there. Master Theneesa runs a tight ship, and the town is popular with academics, so you’ll have access to pretty current research.”

  “The lass won’t mind a bunch of dwarves running amok in her city?” Ewan asked mischievously.

  Hans laughed. “She’s got an open mind about those kinds of things, but she’s got a soft spot for dwarves. Eesa loves the spear, and she learned most of those skills from Boden. Those two were pretty close.”

  “A woman of culture then.” Ewan chuckled deeply at his own joke before letting seriousness return. “I suppose this means the union is official? The Hunter’s Guild and the Borderless Association are now one?”

  “If that’s still what you want.”

  “It is. It is. I assume you’ll be wanting records and what not.”

  “Yes and no,” Hans said. “Tandis might be interested in your financial history, but I’m not. I’d like to keep tabs on membership numbers and ranks. More than that, though, I’d love a look at your job history. From the few stories you’ve told, you see quite a few monsters that our adventurers don’t and vice versa. Seems like there is a lot of knowledge to be traded that would keep more of our people above ground.”

  Ewan looked at Hans curiously.

  “Ah, that’s a poor expression to use with dwarves. Umm… Keeps more of our people alive, I should say.”

  “Aye. If ye wouldn’t mind writing up a list of what you’d like to see, I’ll get a letter back home to get that started.”

  Hans smiled. “Excellent. And I’ll get our curriculum books sent to your flagship chapter, enough that you can give a set to each of your chapters.”

  Standing, Ewan extended his hand. “It means a lot that you’re willing to do this for our people.”

  Accepting the handshake, Hans replied, “I’d prefer you not think of it as me doing you a favor. We’re all just killing monsters at the end of the day. I don’t need to know where an adventurer is from to want to help them.”

  Quest Complete: Offer Diamond quests to Ewan and his party.

  “I’m worried they’re going to bring this place down,” Galad said from behind his bar as he watched the visiting dwarves hugging and shaking hands with adventurers they had met in Gomi. “These fellas are professionals. If the taps survive, their drinking games and songs will be the end of it.”

  “They’re not that rowdy,” Hans replied.

  “They’ve been staying at my inn for weeks. I’ve got a good sense of how they drink.”

  Hans laughed. “Yeah, okay. I can’t argue with that. They’re good people, though.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Master Galad!” Ewan called from across the tavern. “Drinks for hunters are on me tonight! Put it on my tab.”

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  “And adventurers!” Terry shouted.

  “Aye, right, hunters and adventurers,” Ewan said with flushed cheeks and a belly laugh. As the dwarf turned back to the group surrounding him, Hans caught him saying, “Ye should really think about calling yourselves hunters. It’s more dignified, and I think it…”

  The conversation continued, but Hans couldn’t hear it. More adventurers had just come in the door, which warranted a greeting cheer, but then they heard beer was free. So they cheered again.

  “You have a name for this place yet?” Hans asked, turning his attention back to Galad.

  “Galinda and I were talking about naming it after dad, but we decided he wouldn’t like that.”

  “Ragrug’s Tavern?”

  Galad nodded. “Something like that was the idea. He wouldn’t want the attention, and he wasn’t the biggest fan of his name. He always said it sounded too orcish. Humies would hear it and immediately get suspicious.”

  Hans raised an eyebrow. “Humies?”

  “Uhh…” Galad shifted nervously, as if embarrassed. “That’s what we called humans for a while. Charlie said we should stop, but dad always had trouble not saying it.”

  “That’s what orcs call humans as well, but it sounds more like ‘hummies’ when they speak.”

  “Then good thing it isn’t part of my usual vocabulary,” Galad said.

  “Well, for what it’s worth, I think Ragrug’s is a good name,” Hans said. “I’m just one humie, though.”

  Hans held a deadpan stare at Galad. The tusk stared back, his eyes searching Hans’ face for meaning, his own growing more worried that calling the Guild Master a humie was going too far.

  Then Hans smiled.

  Sighing with relief, Galad scowled at Hans and took his mug to refill it.

  “Mr. Hans!” the group of dwarves called.

  “Good luck keeping up,” Galad said, putting a full mug back in front of Hans. “A wise man wouldn’t try.”

  “Never been accused of being wise,” Hans replied as he drifted toward the crowd of hunters and adventurers.

  When Hans was close enough, Ewan clapped Hans on the back. Most of the adventurers Hans saw joining the celebration were visitors there to train, but Yotuli and Terry were among them as well. Hans hadn’t seen Yotuli come in.

  “Ye know, I’ve got a story about Master Boden,” the dwarf said. “I only got the one, and it’s from after he came home.”

  “I’d love to hear it,” Hans replied.

  “Well good, because I was going to tell it anyway.” Ewan laughed and took another drink. Froth clung to his beard when he lowered the mug to take in the audience gathered around his stool. “I learned about Hans the Adventurer through one of our lost sons. Ah, sorry for losing you so early in the story. A lost son is what we call dwarves who dinnae call the kingdom home. This particular lost son, Master Boden the Diamond-ranked Spearman, ran with Mr. Hans and Miss Mazo for some time before moving back home.

  “Now I knew of Master Boden when he was a lad, before he left, and I will forever be ashamed to admit I underestimated the dwarf. I dinnae see what he could be when he was young. Dinnae expect much from him at all, to be honest. He left home a reasonably skilled warrior, which is to say average. He wasn’t great. He wasn’t terrible. He got by.”

  Ewan paused for a long glug. “Master Boden had been back for three weeks to the day when I knocked on his door. There was a mess of orcs banging on the gates of one of our cloud-side settlements, and I’m not below asking someone capable for help. He had his gear and his spear so quick ye would have thought he was already packed.

  “On our way up, he pulls me aside and says, ‘If it’s orcs, I can guarantee everyone goes home, but I don’t want to overstep.’ For the folks here who are more cultured than me, if ye can believe it, I’d never seen a Diamond-ranked in battle. Heard the stories, sure, but never seen it. There’s supposed to be a hundred orcs or so waiting for us, but he’s serious. I ask him what that would take, and he says to put archers on the wall, politely requested we not shoot him by mistake, and then told me to be ready with ponies to chase the monsters down when they started to run.

  “I cannae figure how one dwarf would win that fight even with archers helping, but he talked straight. I told him we’d give him first crack and go from there. Sun was starting to drift low when we arrived. We go to the top of the front gate to see what we were dealing with. He looks around at the siege for a minute and says, ‘I’ll signal when to open the gates.’ Then this bloody dwarf jumps over the wall like he’s hopping a handrail. Right over. Forty feet to the ground. I cannae believe what I was seeing.

  “Then he used his Diamond ability. Mr. Hans can probably explain it better, but he could create these spearheads, perfect copies of the one he used except red like hot iron. Actually, do ye mind giving us the better description?”

  Hans laughed. “Yeah, sure. Umm… Okay, so imagine if there were footprints for mid-air, like you could see everywhere your weapon had been as it moved through three-dimensional space because of an outline it left behind.”

  Several very drunk faces looked at him, blankly.

  “Let’s try it this way. If I wanted to knock a beer out of Terry’s hand-”

  “Please, don’t.”

  “I wasn’t actually going to. Anyway, that motion would look like a slap.” Hans pantomimed open-hand striking the side Terry’s mug. The old guard looked incredibly concerned throughout the entirety of the demonstration. “Now imagine my arm duplicates at various points in that motion.”

  Hans repeated the slap and paused at several points along the way. “Imagine a perfect copy of my hand appears wherever I pause and then just hovers there, like a hand by itself, frozen in the air. That’s what Boden’s Diamond ability did, and like Master Ewan said, the copy it left behind was like hot iron right out of the forge.”

  Ewan nodded to thank Hans. “So Boden hops over the wall, and he leaves this trail of glowing spearheads the entire arc down, and they stay there, floating. He lands and immediately starts thrashing these orcs, and then the spearheads move. They rain down around him like fire from the gods. In the width of a beard hair, fifteen orcs get taken off their feet, but Master Boden has never stopped moving, so while those spearheads descended, he was making more. And he just kept making more and more.

  “If he backstepped, he left a spearhead where he stood. He’d either put down the orc dumb enough to chase him or hit some rabid mojoka thirty yards away. There was this human lad who lived in that town, and he said that when the sun went down, Master Boden looked like a meteor shower cutting through the dark. Sounds pretty, right? Almost makes you wish you had the shit eyes of a human to see something like that.”

  The tavern laughed.

  “I have never seen such an incredible display of violence or smelled so much blood,” Ewan continued. “In a few brief minutes, all these orcs were in pieces. It was an impossible thing, but it was right there. Master Boden waves his spear, so out we come on ponies. Except nobody brought him one because it didn’t occur to me he’d still be in the mood for a chase, so we kick one of our younger guys off his pony, Boden hops on, and we go after ‘em.

  “I should have asked more questions about our deal.” Ewan chuckled. “We spent the next seven weeks chasing orcs. When we ran down the rest of the tribe that attacked us, Master Boden points us to tracks, and we follow it to another tribe those orcs from before traded with. And then he found another band. And another. I felt like the town raider by the time we were done riding into orc camps to cut them all up.”

  Ewan lifted his beer to drink but stopped halfway, a vivid memory filling his mind. “What’s it ye say, ‘to bastards and wanderers?’”

  Yotuli nodded when he addressed the question to her.

  The dwarf raised his beer. “To bastards, wanderers, and lost sons!”

  The tavern cheered and drank.

  Hans remembered when Boden earned his boon. Thinking with projectiles was a strange adjustment for the Spearman, but Hans had a theory for how a melee frontliner pulled a ranged boon. According to his color wheel interpretation, Archer appeared next to Fighter/Berserker. The dwarf may have earned an Archer boon without realizing it but made it work anyhow.

  Boden pushed his boon hard. Too hard, Mazo believed. He complained about symptoms that matched mana-strain, which happened when a mana pool ran so dry that it drew vitality from the body to compensate. Boden said it was nothing like that, but between that and his drinking… He drove himself into the ground before long.

  “Alright, now I need everyone to hear this,” Ewan said, half-shouting. “Mr. Hans and I have a wee bit of a bet that I cannae guess how he lost his favorite eye. I’ve been guessing, but I’m starting to think he’s pulling my beard.”

  “Well, I haven’t been.”

  “Hush now.” The crowd laughed as Ewan waved a hand at Hans. “I’m going to be a good sport and make one more guess, but I want all you folks to be here to confirm the truth of the matter. I still think I guessed it ages ago, and he’s just been putting me on.”

  The revelry softened as everyone in the tavern tried to listen.

  “Alright, Mr. Hans. I’ve guessed all manner of monster and creature, and you’ve talked about a few hundred different kinds yourself while I’ve been here, but there’s one you fought I never heard you mention. Did ye lose your eye to a terathan?”

  Hans smiled. Inside, that stung, but it didn’t sting as much as he expected. After a pause, he dramatically shook his head.

  “I don’t believe it,” Ewan scoffed. “Fine, fine. Give me the truth. How did ye really lose your eye?”

  For dramatic effect, Hans took a drink. “A fae came to me on behalf of a dragon and offered to save my life if I gave up my eye.”

  “Troll shit.”

  “It’s true.” Hans gestured to the adventurers in the room.

  “He ain’t lying,” Terry confirmed.

  Ewan looked at Terry. “You’re the least trustworthy person in this room.”

  Terry laughed.

  Ewan laughed too and addressed Yotuli. “You’re a woman of faith. I trust ye to tell the truth.”

  “It’s true,” Yotuli said.

  “I still don’t believe it,” Ewan bellowed. “You expect me to believe a dragon story? I mean, a dragon? Really?”

  Yotuli pointed to her scale-covered arm. “Same dragon gave me this.”

  Ewan’s face paled. “Son of a bitch. Well, shit Hans, I lost that bet. I think Miss Yotuli was the better negotiator of you two, by the looks of it.”

  Hans laughed at that too. “I agree with that.”

  Suddenly, Ewan was on the table with a mug raised high. Hans hadn’t even seen the dwarf move. He risked a glance back to the bar. He saw Galad leaning on both hands with an “I told you so” face.

  “Gomi felt like home right quick,” Ewan began, addressing the adventurers in the room. “Aye, it’s underground, which is a nice touch, but I’ve never seen so many people just trying to do good for one another. You’ve got good people living here, and you’ve all been more kind to us than ye ever had to be. Thank ye.”

  Ewan raised his mug higher.

  “To the good people of Gomi!”

  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.

  Prepare Bridun and his party for Silver.