After their initial push to test themselves in the new, reconfigured Dungeon, the team returned again and again. Within months, they became a contender in the race to clear the Dungeon first. By unspoken agreement, such contests were something that the Master Class or higher teams left to the Advanced Adventurers, passing on the same benefits and competition levels they themselves had experienced. The grindstone of competition both aided the teams in developing while ensuring that the more important Master Class Dungeon was well provisioned with members.
On occasion, the team would even enter Warmount, the aforementioned Master Class Dungeon. Always without their royal member though, for they had been firmly informed doing so would not be allowed. While there were numerous quests and locations within the sprawling Dungeon itself that could benefit even Advanced Adventurers like them, there was always a risk—miniscule perhaps, but a risk—of a breakthrough or powerful, Master Class monsters.
Outside of the Dungeon runs, the team found themselves more and more socially connected. Classes on etiquette gave way to practical exercises, dinners and lunches, soirees and balls at noble estates. More than once, the team—and guild, who managed their time—were offered exclusive quests. Any that required travel were turned down by the team, other members of the guild dispatched.
Those local might see the team’s presence. Soon enough, the society of nobles had come to an understanding of the group’s modus operandi, taking only legitimate jobs that tested their prowess and skills and which paid well. Threadbare excuses to spend time with the prince were discarded aside, often picked up by other members of the Seven Stones guild.
Even then, the team had more than enough such assignments. Whether it was the cleansing of an monster-swarmed river or a hunt for a new alpha predator in the grounds surrounding the city, the numerous sprawling lands that the nobles had claimed and, ostensibly, guarded had to be cleansed of threats. It was part of the social contract, to ensure that the king’s own men did not trample within.
Months passed in short order, one season turning to the next. By the time winter arrived, the team was well organized, the flood of fall adventuring quests outside the dungeon giving way to that awkward period when winter had not arrived in the deepest depths, leaving the most dangerous monsters outside. Instead, the changing of the seasons brought even more dreaded things.
Balls and further soirées.
To those, the team were dragged, forced to interact with greater familiarity if not comfort. Rumblings of the dangerous political games continued, though most members of the party were spared any such direct plays. Their alliances were laid bare; even delicate probes were withdrawn.
In time, even Asin’s presence had been accepted, if not agreed upon. The Catkin was more than once forced into uncomfortable social situations, but it was Omrak who caused their first major embarrassment. The lusty young Northerner was caught in a compromising situation with the wife of a minor nobleman. The resulting scandal and duel—which Omrak handily won against the house guard captain—was the talk of the town for weeks.
Until, of course, the next scandal arose.
In the meantime, the Seven Stones Guild flourished. Guildmaster Ronson and Vice-Guildmistress Lady Marshall made the most of their newfound prestige and inflow of capital via dedicated quests, increasing the number and size of the guild. New buildings—close by to the guild—were purchased, new residences expanded upon. Pressure was applied, political and gold in sufficient quantities to make their long-time neighbor to sell away their land, leading to significant upgrades and expansion of the guild hall.
In many ways, for all the concerns of royalty or guildmaster, the prince’s addition had been, if not entirely successful at the beginning, a marvelous result now.
It was all this marvelous fortune that Daniel turned over in his mind, over and over again, as he lay in bed one morning; as winter cold howled outside his cozy residence and wondered:
Why, exactly, was he dissatisfied?
***
The party was gathered at the bottom of the stairs, in the foyer of the expanded guild hall. Everyone was up and ready, eager to begin another day delving. Daniel was the last to make his way down, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and trying to decide if using his Gift to wake him further was a wasteful use of his memories.
“Ah, our Healer has arrived at last. Shall we?” Lady Nyssa said, offering Daniel a smile as he approached the group.
“The Labyrinth again?” Daniel said.
A variety of nods greeted his question. Asin, perhaps knowing Daniel best, tilted her head to the side as she regarded him, her ears swiveling down.
“Let’s not,” Daniel said impetuously.
“Ah, a request then?” Roland said, rubbing his chin. “We have not done one in a few weeks. Though, I thought your guildmaster had indicated nothing of . . . appropriate . . . form had arrived. Unless you’ve changed your mind about Lady Mosej’s invitation?” A leering grin.
“No.” Daniel shook his head firmly. QuanEr’s mercy be upon him, those noblewomen were just relentless. “No request. We’re Adventurers, not errand boys. Or . . . stuffed-peacock bodyguards.”
A slight stir, from the Royal Guards. Daniel did not care, even if what he had said might be considered an insult to them. He was tired, dissatisfied. He needed a change, something more.
“Let’s do Warmount.”
His words drew a shocked silence from the group as they stared at him. The truth was, running Warmount with its wider array of assignments and tasks was a common thing about the Adventuring teams in the capital. The team – sans Roland – had done it repeatedly. But it was that – the without the prince – that was the sticking point.
“No.” The lead Royal Guard stepped forward, lips thinning as he glared at Daniel. “You may not risk the prince in such a place.”
“I’m not risking anything,” Daniel said, crossing his arms. “He’s choosing to come with us—if he does—entirely on his own accord.”
“The agreement with the king—”
“There is no agreement,” Daniel said. “Just a promise to keep him alive. Which I will. Or die trying.”
“It’s not your death we’re concerned about.”
“Which is all too clear,” Daniel groused. “Nor do I care about what you think.” Turning away from the man, a man that Daniel knew could easily kill him, he spoke to the third prince. “Will you join us?”
“I . . .” Roland was hesitating, caught by surprise by the shift in plans. His gaze was conflicted. “We, this . . .”
“What he’s trying to say is that this is a party decision, not just yours,” Lady Nyssa said, touching Daniel on the upper arm till he turned to her fully. “And it’s not one that we have discussed.”
“What is there to discuss? We go to Warmount all the time,” Daniel said. “It offers better coin, better experience, better training. There’s more to learn at Warmount than we can ever learn running the Labyrinth. I’m tired of walking twisting corridors every few days.”
“We could . . . ummm . . . go to other . . . Dungeons,” Johan said, shifting uncomfortably. “There’s some . . . in days’ journeys.”
His words garnered nods from the group, including the Royal Guards. Daniel sniffed. “I bet they’d want to plan the trip weeks in advance. Make sure we had a proper place to stay, double check the inn, maybe even have their people run the Dungeon beforehand.”
“Wait,” Roland said, looking at Daniel. “Are you tired of me, rather than the Dungeon?”
He sounded hurt, making the Healer regret the way he acted. But . . .
“It’s not you. It’s all this.” A hand rose, waving around him. “I’m tired of being on display. Of not being, well, what I want to be.”
“And what is that?” the guard captain asked.
“An Adventurer!”
“You don’t think you’re one with me around?” Roland said.
“Not a real one.”
“Ah . . . and of course, that means I’m not one too . . .” Roland trailed off, nodding. “Of course. I should have known.”
He turned away, heading for the door.
“Where are you going?” Lady Nyssa called.
“Home. I find myself out of sorts and unfit for delving today,” Roland said.
Lady Nyssa spun around, glaring at Daniel. He just kept his arms crossed, refusing to say anything even as Roland and his men walked out, leaving the group alone.
To everyone’s surprise, it was Johan who spoke up next. “Me too.” Then, suiting action to words, he walked out, leaving the team down another member.
Leg tapping, Lady Nyssa continued to stare at Daniel till she let out a frustrated huff. “Idiot man-child!”
Throwing her hands up, she stalked out after Johan and Roland, leaving Daniel alone. When he turned to look at the remaining two—Charles following his lady as always—he found no support. In fact, at some point, Asin had slipped away, leaving him to stare at Omrak who just shook his head at Daniel before heading for the dining room where breakfast was still being served.
And then, he was alone.
“Fine! I didn’t need you all anyway.”
So saying, Daniel walked out of the guild hall to head for the Dungeon. He would still run it, if nothing else. After all, everyone needed a Healer.
***
“The prince is at his studies and will not be having guests today,” the palace guard announced to Lady Nyssa, the polearm shifted to block her entrance to the palace grounds. Or technically, the inner palace grounds since she was already in the palace. She’d lost him on the way, not having moved fast enough to follow in his wake and thus forced to actually deal with foot and carriage traffic.
Lady Nyssa’s eyes narrowed, then she nodded curtly but politely to the guard. As much as it frustrated her, the guard was just doing his job. There was absolutely no reason to get angry with him. He certainly had no power to gainsay a royal command.
Turning on her heel, she moved with Charles on her heels to leave the palace before something else ruined her day. That damn idiotic Healer, that obtuse, mule-headed, muscular fool who . . .
“Ah, Lady Nyssa. Not Adventuring today?” A voice cut through her mental rant, forcing her to pause and stop by its very presence in front of her.
“Lady Walraus,” Lady Nyssa said, turning over and offering a curtsy. She had to, after all she was but the child of a lower noble, compared to Lady Walraus; who was the wife of a viscount. It did not, however, mean that she had to like her or provide a too-warm welcome. They were, after all, on opposite sides of the brewing political battle.
“Oh? No answer? Well, it’s not necessary of course. Everyone knows the prince came storming back, all angry and in a snit before locking himself away. Then again, what can you expect? From a royal.” The words were said almost with a sneer. Almost.
Lady Nyssa looked around and noticed that a few of the other wandering noblemen, pages, and servants had either slowed down or blatantly turned to listen in on this conversation. Her tone, her challenge, it was all very clear that they were attempting another power play.
And it was up to her to squash it.
“Yes. We had a disagreement today,” Lady Nyssa said, choosing the best option here. Truth. If the woman knew of the argument already, it was better to work with the truth than to concoct a lie that would be exposed later. It would harm her own position an what she had to say. “Dungeon parties have them, all the time. But you know that, after all, your family has done so much delving.” Sickly-sweet tone, so much so because everyone knew the Walraus had not. They were merchants, given status because of their money and not because of any force of arms. A new kind of noble, and one that needed to be nipped in the bud. “When you have a group of highly motivated, highly skilled individuals working together, conflict occurs.
“It’s not about the conflict though.”
Then Lady Nyssa paused. And waited.
“And what is it about?” Lady Walraus said.
Her family might have been smart at making money, but none of those smarts had passed on to Lady Walraus at all. If not for the fact that she was pretty and had a way with some of the older men on the council, Lady Nyssa was sure she would have been taken out of the capital long ago. Such an obvious trap.
“It’s about how we end things.” A beat. “And an Adventuring party always ends things well.”
Then, a quick curtsy while the woman was trying to work out what she meant, and Lady Nyssa swept away. Mentally, she cursed herself for that last sentence. It could have been worded better. Something with a little more sting, and maybe a hint of a threat. But like the Lady, she was not a political animal herself. She was just an Adventurer, thrust into the middle of politics she had no right to be within.
“Well done, m’lady.” Charles cut into her spiraling thought, having moved ahead to hold open a door. He had led her, without her prompting, down some side corridors so that they could exit the palace via one of the side entrances. Not a servant’s entrance, but close to it.
“I could have done better.”
“Then you shall practice.” Charles paused, then tilted his head backwards, his eyes growing dark and somber. “I fear we will all have more than enough chance.”
“All but that idiot.”
“Well, yes. The Healer is rather insulated due to his Gift.”
Running a hand through her hair, Lady Nyssa turned from side to side, taking in their position. Then, a slight smile crossed her face as she realized where she was. In fact . . .
“Just down the street, there’s this lovely tea shop . . .”
“Yes, m’lady,” Charles said amiably. He watched as she wandered off and let out a tiny relieved breath of his own as she went to pick up a treat.
As for himself, he could not help but remember the dark looks and the additional presence of men with swords. More bodyguards like himself, more than ever. On both sides. For all the wars of words that were going on right now, the way it cut down and raised up various individuals, those attacks were—beyond the occasional suicide—bloodless.
But old instincts were telling the bodyguard the war that was coming might not stay as bloodless as many hoped for much longer. And, obviously, his was not the only Skill triggering.