Dungeon Champions

We exited the Tablet area and went back down into the common room. It felt like coming back to a warm blanket and hot mug of cocoa after clearing snow for a couple of hours. I hadn’t realized how intense the upstairs area had felt.

My party ranged ahead, obviously feeling that same level of comfort. However, I could tell they were all dragging. Today had been a long day—if it was even still the same day, since we’d been here so long—and I was looking forward to crawling into bed.

But I would be remiss to ignore the opportunity to wring every advantage possible from the store.

I snapped my fingers, as if just coming to a thought. “Basbro?”

“Yes, sir?”

“I don’t suppose you have a quest board or something, do you?”

The shrewd goblin’s eyes narrowed. We’d just spent an obscene amount of money on gear, and I was asking for something so basic?

Instead of trying to explain, I just returned his look evenly.

“Certainly, sir. It’s a regional quest board, managed by the Purifier’s Guild, Culinarian’s Guild, and The Prime Syndicate. Some of the royal families also contribute, but those are far more unlikely. Do you wish to see quests local to your Fae door?”

“Please.”

We detoured to the left, and into a room against the back wall. Inside were floor-to-ceiling maps of various parts of the Fae Wilds. My eyes darted, trying to absorb as many of the details as I could.

The nearest mainland—called Ismel—was separated over four maps, each spanning six or seven feet to a side. There were hundreds of towns and cities, each with their own massive list of quests. I noted where Celestia was roughly compared to the map Basbro motioned to come closer.

This map focused on a coastline on the southeast part of the mainland. Basbro moved his hands outward and the map zoomed in, focusing on a cluster of islands.

“While I do not know your exact location—for safety and privacy purposes, you understand—” Basbro said, adjusting his once again less impressive sports coat, “this is the area around your Fae door’s signature.”

There were four major islands and six smaller ones. The region was noted as being called The Concord Island Cluster. Each of the major islands had multiple quest hubs in the forms of cities or towns.

Mimicking Basbro, I zoomed in. There were a lot of available details and I wanted to see more.

My Tablet flashed with a notification. It was odd to see it glowing purple, but that was just something I was going to have to get used to.

***

Notice: Due to your observations, a detailed map of The Concord Island Cluster has been added to your Tablet. Please select the Map tab to see more.

***

Well, that was handy.

Part of me wanted to do the same for the other regions, but I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. We had time.

There were a few Cores local to The Concord Island Cluster, and they were all mapped on the map as potential quest locations. Three were marked as farm dungeons, where killing the core was deemed illegal by the Purifier’s Guild. Among the others was a Goblin Core, a Treant Core, a Magma Core, and a Chaos Core.

The Chaos Core must be Corey.

As I watched, a new dungeon marker appeared, but this one didn’t have the same features as the others. There was no name, just a series of question marks.

“Ah, a new Core has been born,” Basbro said when I asked. “Happens often enough. Data will populate there after someone heads inside. This map just tracks signatures and notes when a new Core gains enough power to be considered a candidate for adventurers.”

I nodded, and returned to looking at the area around Corey’s dungeon. The closest town was called Boulibar Bay, and it was a port town just to the north of the dungeon. While the town itself didn’t have a lot of quests, it still seemed like the best place for us to settle in. I pulled up the town’s quest list and my Tablet vibrated with notification once more.

***

Notice: Quests can be transferred from this map to your Tablet. Hold your Tablet near the map to duplicate the details. You can then accept these quests from the Quest tab. Once a Tablet Holder has accepted a quest, it will vanish from all available Quest Boards for 30 days, unless it is registered as complete.

***

I copied all of the quests but didn’t accept them yet. I wanted to discuss them with my team first. Once that was done, I turned to Basbro. “Thank you for your help today.”

“You’re very welcome, sir.” He motioned to the door and I followed him out, collecting my various party members along the way.

***

I collapsed back onto my bed, arms spread, exhausted. Silence echoed. This was the first time I was truly alone since coming to the Fae Wilds, and I was exhausted.

Beyond my closed door, I could hear the faint conversations of my party. Skullie, too, was locked out of the room. I told him to go do familiar things elsewhere, and after much argument he huffed off toward the living area, using his Necromantic Propulsion.

Something told me I hadn’t had a peaceful night’s sleep in a long time, and I was looking forward to it.

I didn’t even bother removing my gear. In a few hours I’d likely wake up and strip down, but for now I just wanted to close my eyes and pass out.

A knock on my door interrupted that before my eyes could fully close.

Irritation flooded me, but I quickly dismissed it. It could only be a party member, and they likely had a good excuse for wanting to talk. Unless it was Skullie. Then I was going to teach him the importance of letting me rest.

I opened the door.

Zuri stood there, looking up at me. She had a strand of her dark hair twirled around one light-brown finger. The little jolt of magic that followed from meeting her eyes felt almost natural. Her lips parted like she wanted to say something, but was somehow rendered unable to speak. Then she swallowed, audibly. “Can I come in?”

**Scene cut to keep the story PG! But here's a BONUS chapter!**

Chapter 23: Right In Front Of My Breakfast?

Something strange happened the next morning.

Zuri woke up early, although that wasn’t the strange thing. She was an early riser, especially when others needed her. The intent was to cook a big, hearty breakfast to help everyone feel their best before they left the luxury of the Fae Lodging behind.

But the big, complicated smile and the warmth she felt deep in her chest were new.

Zuri tried to ignore them, to push them away and go on with her morning routine, but they lingered. Coloring her morning as she got out of bed, took the silk wrap off from around her hair, and washed her face.

They also threatened. Whispered. Reminded her that now she had something she could lose.

Even that couldn’t banish the smile, however. She felt too good, and was riding too much of a high. Instead, she used the facilities before sneaking downstairs and taking another quick shower.

There was nothing Zuri had experienced in the world quite like the shower that the Fae Lodging had. The water—pushed through a metal device that Jordan called a showerhead—pulsed against her tired back and angry muscles, washing away the soreness of her time in the dungeon. It could get hot enough to scald her skin or be a refreshing coolness, all with the turn of a knob.

She wanted it, almost as much as she wished to feel Jordan’s hands on her skin again.

Suddenly things grew warm, and not just because the shower was boiling her skin. His taste had been better than she could have hoped. Even after a full day of labor, his aroma had left her wanting.

Their time after, the intimacy and shared joy, had settled a kernel of fire in her chest.

Zuri quickly finished rinsing the soap from her skin and tried to desperately not think of how wonderful the previous night had been. She dried herself with a fresh fluffy white towel, and was endlessly amused when another appeared on the shelf in its place by magic. The Fae Lodging was quite a treat, and she hoped the Society of the Defiant could continue to make enough money for them to have access to this kind of thing often. Inn rooms and the rat-infested barracks the Sisterhood had them sharing did not come anywhere close to this kind of experience.

When Zuri was dry, she dressed in the simple cloth robe they’d purchased the night before. Overnight it had been laundered and smelled of rosehips and patchouli. It was a woody, floral musk that she greatly enjoyed.

Maybe Jordan would like it as well.

A lighthearted tune—likely some bard’s bawdy ballad she’d heard somewhere—came to mind as Zuri exited the shower. She quietly snuck down the hall and into the main living area, and ducked into the kitchenette before she started humming.

Like with all things, the Fae Lodgings provided.

The song fell from her lips as she looked around.

A dozen cabinets lined the wall, and each was filled with myriad ingredients. One held nothing but spices, another every type of flour she could think to want. A third boasted dried mushrooms and beans and nuts.

It was every chef’s dream.

She wanted to just gather a handful of ingredients and shove them in her new pack; surely the Fae Lodgings wouldn’t miss a few things, but they had plenty after Jordan’s purchases yesterday.

But the thought lingered. For a moment, Zuri’s hand hovered near a jar of roasted cashews. They would provide sustenance for days for a party like theirs, especially when rationed out and supplemented by dungeon scrounging.

A nagging need whispered in her ear, telling her to pocket the jar.

Just in case, it said.

Only for emergencies, it rationalized.

You never know what will happen, it continued.

She caressed the outside of the jar, smiled, and closed the cabinet.

That need howled, but it was the right thing to do.

Jordan would provide for them. Had already provided for them. She didn’t need to hoard and hide and save. There might be tough times ahead—no one could know the future for certain. But she trusted him, and she trusted her fellow party members. Even Britney, she told herself firmly.

Together they would make sure the future was abundant, nutritious and healthy.

They would support and provide, and nothing could hold them back.

With a deep breath, Zuri turned her attention away from her doubts. She had a meal to make, and there was an endless wealth of options at her fingertips.

In addition to the dry goods, she found a rune-marked larder with fresh produce and tall glass carafes full of various milks and juices. There was also a plethora of different meats, all in distinct cuts, although there was considerably less choice than with the dry goods.

It made perfect sense.

No matter how good the rune markings, even with constant and attentive maintenance, eventually magic would fail and these ingredients would spoil. It was the nature of magic. The Fae Lodgings were minimizing the possibility of wasted ingredients, which Zuri could appreciate.

Instead of marveling at the myriad options available to her, Zuri started to formulate a plan. She checked her notebook, finding the recipes she wanted to make the meal that lived in her mind. Using the list as a guide, she grabbed a handful of eggs and a few links of sausage—she assumed it was some sort of monster meat from the smell—along with spinach, a head of garlic, a carafe of milk, and a small capped container of what smelled and looked like fresh-churned butter.

From the dry cabinets she looted some simple milled flour, a small folded envelope marked as containing ground cinnamon bark, and a jar of golden honey. Her eyes widened when she spotted a clay pot filled with dried red berries—they would be perfect for adding sweetness to her flat cakes without overburdening them with too much sugar.

The song from before returned to her lips as Zuri prepared the hearth. She stoked the fire before placing a large, well-seasoned iron skillet in a metal holster that was designed to keep pans out of the flames. As the skillet heated, she mixed a few handfuls of flour with some of the milk, two eggs, and a dollop of honey in a wooden bowl. Lastly she added the ground cinnamon bark, knowing it would provide a pleasant taste and aroma, but also ward off ill humors and bring good fortune for the day ahead.

She then whisked the batter with a hand-carved wooden spoon until there were no visible lumps.

Like always, she had to adjust her ratios. First a bit of extra flour, then no, the batter was too thick, more milk was needed to thin it out. Then the milk was too much and the batter became runny, which required more flour.

The instinctive way she found her way through meals amused her. Zuri prided herself on her cooking skills, but she knew her methods might cause concern in those who were more classically trained. The way she cooked was chaos. She knew it, she embraced it, and honestly, she loved it.

Everything was done by instinct, feel, and taste, the way her mother had cooked and her mother’s mother.

She didn’t know why she had to add another drizzle of honey to the flat cakes, but she knew it in her heart. And so she did, without any hesitation.

When her batter was ready and the skillet hot enough, Zuri added a small bit of butter into the skillet to provide a lubricated surface for the flat cakes. Then she ladled small pools of batter onto that surface, watching with satisfaction as they began to bubble immediately. The smell of cinnamon bark and honey wafted up at her, and her mouth watered.

“What are you doing?”

The question was simple, but delivered from a voice she hadn’t expected. Zuri jumped and spun around, coming face-to-face with a puffy-eyed Britnayel. The celestial was buttoned up in a bright-white nightgown from chin to ankle, and from what Zuri could tell, the material looked stiff, itchy, and uncomfortable.

Despite her sleepy expression, Britnayel seemed alert and observant.

Zuri smiled and turned back to her preparations. “I thought I’d make us all a hearty breakfast to prepare for the day.”

Britnayel scoffed but said nothing. Instead, she took a seat on a stool at the kitchen counter and proceeded to lean her elbows and forearms on the counter so she could rest her head.

Anger flared in Zuri—it was bad manners to do so when someone was cooking, and the celestial knew better.

Zuri wanted to shoo the girl off, but decided against it. Things were different now. While Britnayel might be happy to cling to her old, sulky ways, Zuri didn’t want to fall back into pessimistic brooding.

Instead, she returned her attention to the task at hand. The flat cakes were ready to be turned, and she still had to prepare the sausage links. She fetched a wooden spatula and focused on one thing at a time. When flipped, the flat cakes revealed a perfectly golden-brown underside that was crisp but still pliable. Zuri made a pleased sound and returned to the counter.

Britnayel was scratching at her scalp, and some black soot fell onto the polished wood below her.

She hadn’t actually washed her hair the previous night.

Zuri clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. She swept the rest of her ingredients farther down the counter, away from the celestial. “Child, you are getting dungeon dirt everywhere. Go wash your hair.”

“Why?”

“This is a new day, and we should approach it with gratitude.” Zuri grabbed a knife and started to cut the sausage links into rounds. The inner texture was very gamy, but it had a good scent. She left the casing on, both to give the sausage structure, but also because it was a well prepared casing, which would add flavor and texture.

“Is that why you were in Jordan’s room last night?”

Britnayel had said the words casually, but Zuri could hear the underlying accusation. Her knife froze mid cut, and the kitchen echoed with the silence that followed the question. Only the crackling of the fire answered.

After a moment, Zuri swallowed her budding anger and guilt and resumed cutting the sausage. “Do you not have gratitude for the one who saved us from the hell that the Sisterhood had condemned us to face?”

“The man you mean?”

Again, accusation. But also there was a hint of anger. Of disgust, both at Jordan and at Zuri.

When Zuri looked up, Britnayel’s face was twisted in an ugly sneer.

“Did you service him? Thank him for our rescue with your body?” She looked Zuri up and down, and something about the way her eyes roamed made Zuri feel uncomfortable. Then she grinned. “Did you let him penetrate you?”

“Britnayel!” Zuri slammed the knife down and glared at the celestial.

She looked…smug. Content. Almost as if she was glad to be getting under Zuri’s skin so easily.

“That’s enough out of you,” Zuri said, her tone short and clipped. She glided across the kitchen to check on the flat cakes, and then remove them from the skillet and put four new dollops of batter in their place. “You are being rude.”

“No, I’m following our teachings. Something you seemed to forget. Men are dangerous. Evil. They only want us for their pleasure, and if you’ve given in then you are already corrupted.”

Zuri frowned. “Did you not hear what Merielle said? Or are you being ignorant on purpose?”

Britnayel’s wings twitched, even as her face stayed neutral. “I heard her. But I don’t believe her.” She sniffed, turning her head to look down her nose at Zuri. “There is no universe in which my father would approve of me being sacrificed for some…dungeon.” She spat the word like it was an insult.

That made Zuri laugh. It was an ugly thing, short and bitter. “Yes, there’s absolutely no reason I could think of for anyone to sacrifice wonderful little you.” She returned to the sausage. “You’re so kind and caring and proper. Why would your regal parents wish to be rid of you?”

Britnayel didn’t respond, and Zuri didn’t bother to keep going. She finished cutting through the sausage and prepared a second skillet on the fire for them. When the rounds of sausage hit the pan they started to sizzle and brown immediately. The scent was complex, with a good bit of fennel seed and something a little spicy. Maybe it was ginger root, or perhaps a bit of dried ground hot pepper.

Either way, Zuri had to keep herself from fishing one out of the skillet and shoving it in her mouth.

She flipped the flatcakes again and then turned back to prepare the garlic.

Britnayel was gone.

Zuri hadn’t even heard her leave.

Usually the celestial would have huffed and puffed and stomped her way out, making it clear she didn’t think she lost the argument but that she was leaving just the same. But she’d slipped away, quiet as a mouse, leaving nothing behind but a smear of dungeon dust… and tears.

Guilt washed over Zuri. She was filled with the urge to rush down the hallway and apologize. To prostrate herself before the celestial to atone for her sins.

But nothing she’d said was wrong. In fact, everything Britnayel had said wasn’t wrong either, at least initially. She and Merielle had discussed it. Zuri had been the lamb to slaughter, but she’d gone willingly.

Jordan was a nice man. No. He’s more than nice. He’d proved it last night, just as he’d proved it when he gave them their tablets. Nothing he gave came with expectations, and he did nothing for selfish reasons.

Britnayel would need to learn.

The joy of cooking was gone after the celestial’s exit, but Zuri still went through the motions. She wrapped up a batch of flat cakes for each of them, finished frying the sausage, cooked fluffy scrambled eggs in the grease left by the sausage, and finished up the meal by pan frying the garlic and spinach together. To finish the meal, she topped each batch of flat cakes with a small handful of dried red berries and a drizzle of honey.

By the time she was done, the others emerged from their rooms, and the negativity of Britnayel’s comments were washed away by the happy expressions and warm smiles from her other companions.

Jordan was last to join them, and his smile was the warmest. It filled her from head to toe with hope and desire.

This could work, she told herself as she shooed him from the kitchen and started to dish out servings for everyone. Merielle came to help her, and they worked in silence, even though the elf glanced her way with a questioning look. Zuri said nothing, but nodded once. Merielle gave her a small smile, patted her on the shoulder, and then helped her bring the prepared dishes to their companions.

Everyone—even Britnayel—seemed excited by the food. When everyone had a plate in front of them, they dug in together as a party.

Kind words and happy sighs were exchanged for the delicious meal. Not one face had a hint of sadness in it, even the celestial girl who did her best to hide her face behind long strands of wet blonde hair.