Sly Fox

“Northern dungeon,” Nathan murmured. “Here we come.”

Blue flickered at the edge of his vision.

He barely registered it at first. Another notification, probably—

No.

That wasn’t his.

Nathan turned, sharp and sudden, and his mouth fell open.

Zam sat with one finger raised, a blue interface hovering in front of him.

“You,” Nathan barked. “When did you get that?”

Zam startled, finger freezing mid-motion. He looked at Nathan, confused, then flicked a glance toward Kieran.

Kieran answered calmly, as if nothing about this required explanation.

“All adventurers have interfaces.”

Nathan stared at him. “What?”

“You can see another’s in party mode,” Kieran continued. “Or if a person takes it off something called private mode.”

“Private… mode,” Nathan repeated.

His head felt suddenly light.

He turned fully toward Kieran. “Since when did you know this?”

Kieran glanced at Zam, then back again. “Zam explained it to me. In Graystone. When we trained.”

A pause.

“I’ve seen others with interfaces as well.”

Another pause.

“Have you not?”

“I have not.”

“Oh.”

Nathan laughed once, short and sharp. “Oh. That’s it? Oh?”

Kieran looked away.

“You know,” Nathan said, heat creeping into his voice, “you have a real habit of not relaying information to me. You get on my case for not saying things, but you’re worse.”

“I relay information when it is relevant,” Kieran replied evenly. “You were withholding things that mattered. Or forgetting them. During the tutorial.”

Nathan’s eyes narrowed. “Is this payback?”

“No,” Kieran said. “It simply wasn’t relevant yet.”

Nathan kept his gaze on him.

Yet.

Zam cleared his throat. “I would have said something earlier, Draegor, had I known you were unaware. This is… common.”

Nathan turned on him. “Common.”

Zam nodded. “Adventurers have interfaces. It is considered rude to display them around non–party members.”

He hesitated.

“Or dangerous. You do not want strangers knowing your skills. Or your status.”

Rude.
Dangerous.

Nathan’s stomach dropped.

“Zam,” he said slowly, “could everyone see my interface in Graystone?”

Zam tilted his head. “Of course.”

“My notifications?” Nathan asked.

Zam frowned. “Your… what?”

“The pop-ups. The messages.”

“Oh.” Zam thought for a moment. “Only if you had it open.”

Nathan leaned forward. “So if I didn’t—”

“They wouldn’t see anything,” Zam said. “Once it’s closed, there is nothing to see.”

“I saw them regardless of it being closed or open,” Kieran said.

Zam turned toward him. “Because you were in his party.”

Kieran didn’t answer. He looked at Nathan.

Nathan held his gaze for a beat.

It works differently for us.

After a moment, he exhaled and turned back to Zam. “May I look?”

Zam blinked. “Look?”

Nathan pointed at his interface.

Zam followed the gesture, mirrored the point. “Oh!” Then he waved him closer. “Go ahead.”

Nathan slid over to sit next to him.

Their two blue interfaces hovered side by side.

Zam was iron tier.
Metal.
Like my bronze tier.
Not like Kieran’s.
Or Mal’s.

Zam cleared his throat. "I was surprised when I saw Kieran's for the first time. Gold interface. Never seen that color."

Nathan realized he’d been staring at Zam’s longer than he meant to. “Uh. Yeah.”

He hesitated, then asked, “Have you seen any color other than blue and gold?”

"Only once."

Nathan looked at him waiting for more information that did not seem forthcoming. "Once?"

“Oh,” Zam said. “Once you reach above argent, the interface shifts again. Iridescent. A man came through Graystone awhile back with one like that.”

“Iridescent,” Nathan repeated.

“Yes,” Zam said vaguely. “High tier.”

High tier. Iridescent interface. Nathan waited for more.

Zam, apparently, was finished.

Nathan exhaled through his nose.

So much for the chatterbox.

“Can you show me?” Nathan said finally.

Zam hesitated. “The interface?”

“Yes,” Nathan said. “Everything.”

The rest of the journey passed in near-constant conversation. Zam, once prompted, slipped easily back into his usual talkative rhythm, explaining what he could, wandering into half-related stories, then circling back when Nathan nudged him on. They talked over strips of dried meat and shared water, the wagon never slowing as Arlen kept them moving along the road, Marla’s steady commentary fading into background noise Nathan had learned to ignore.

Kieran listened more than he spoke. When he did interject, it was brief, precise, usually only for clarification. He left the questions to Nathan.

Nathan learned how to set his interface to private, and more importantly, that Kieran could not.

If Kieran opened his interface, it stayed visible. To everyone.

Combined with its unusual color and letter-based tier system, the conclusion was obvious. Kieran would avoid opening it in public whenever possible. It drew too much attention. Too many questions. The wrong kind of notice.

By the time the town came into view, Nathan had a clearer picture of how interfaces were supposed to work in this world. Or at least how his was meant to.

Hint: Approaching the city of Crater Rock. Complete quest objectives within the city!

He felt, for the first time, that he understood how to level his interface properly. Paired with what he’d learned from Mal’s memory, he was confident he could help Kieran do the same. What had once felt like a guess now felt grounded.

Zam had explained that there were paths. Even for Nathan.

Magic and mages existed here, but Nathan still didn’t know why his mana had been sealed. The only pattern he could see was that Zam couldn’t use mana either, not just because he lacked it, but because the path hadn’t opened. You had to complete specific quests, take certain jobs, find the right items. Some people never did, according to Zam.

Nathan wasn’t planning to be one of them.

Having his own, usable mana would make things easier. Not just for him.

For Kieran.

To help them both get out of here.

It can’t be that difficult, right? I used mana before I ended up here. I just need to figure out the steps.

The wagon came to a halt.

Marla opened the flap from the front. "Nearly there boys. Just got to wait through this line."

"Made better time than I thought!" Arlen added proudly.

Nathan moved toward the front and opened the flap wider. The sky was orange and pink, the sun just starting to set.

City. The one before them seemed larger than Graystone. It stretched wider, more cobblestone and brick. The smell hit even from this far.

Great. Love that horse shit and raw sewage smell. How could the tutorial not have had this issue but here did? Just another unanswered question.

“Is the dungeon here?” Nathan asked.

"My stars, no." Marla laughed. "It's a good ten miles past the city. This is where everyone travels out of though. Good inns. Supplies."

Nathan nodded. "What are you two doing once we arrive? Will you be taking us to the dungeon in the morning?"

"No, you'll take one of the wagons that are designated for travel to and from the dungeon."

"Designated—" Nathan started.

"We have friends that will be hosting us for the night." Marla added.

"We'll be hiring out our service in the caravan area in the morning." Arlen interjected.

“Ah,” Nathan said slowly. “So we part ways after this?”

"For now. Who knows? Maybe when you're all finished up here, we'll ferry you to your next destination." Marla smiled.

Who knows, indeed.

"Sounds good." Nathan replied.

The line took a good two hours to get to the front.

"Papers." The guard said flatly, holding his hand out.

They handed their guild cards.

The man snorted. "Wipe Squad?" He looked at them, and handed the cards back. "Funny bunch."

"Yes. Hilarious." Nathan said.

The guard kept his palm out.

Nathan sighed. "How much?"

"Ten copper."

"Ten?" Nathan grumbled while opening his inventory to fish out ten copper. "Highway robbery."

"Small price to keep you and the city safe." The guard smiled.

“So, I’ve heard,” Nathan mumbled, passing the man ten copper.

“Completely unnecessary and a lie,” Kieran said.

"Excuse me?" The guard asked.

"I said—" Kieran opened his mouth.

Nathan cut in. “Yes. Yes. Keeping the city safe. Are we good to pass?”

The guard eyed them a moment longer, then called up toward the front. “Let ’em through.”

Nathan sat back and relaxed a bit.

As the wagon rolled under the city arch he got a notification.

[ NEW OBJECTIVES AVAILABLE ]
[ Register with Crater Rock Guild Hall ]
[ Obtain Rennick Dungeon pass ]
[ Book a room at an inn ]
[ Make new acquaintances ]

Always the most asinine things. Nathan waved the notifications away.

“We’ll drop you boys off at the guild hall,” Arlen said.

“Thank you.”

The city had larger streets than Graystone. More foot traffic, more carriages and wagons. More people in finer clothes. More everything.

Nathan watched it all pass by with mild interest.

“Did you see that?” Zam asked again, already more excited about Crater Rock than he’d been the entire journey.

Kieran offered no opinion.

They arrived at the guild hall within twenty minutes.

Nathan paid Marla the copper. They parted with a see you later rather than a goodbye.

“Stay alive,” Arlen said.

“Try not to get famous,” Marla added.

“No promises.” Zam laughed.

Nathan nodded.

They waved off the wagon and headed inside.

***

The guild hall was larger than Graystone’s.

The ceiling arched higher. The floor stretched wider. More counters. More boards crowded with postings and notices. More people packed shoulder to shoulder in long, winding lines that barely moved.

The feeling, however, was identical.

Clerks sat with the same dulled expressions, stamping papers and sliding forms across the wood without looking up.

“Next,” one of them said flatly, holding out a hand.

Nathan stepped forward and stared at the hand.

"Cards." The clerk said.

Oh.

Nathan collected them and passed over their cards. Zam leaned in at his shoulder, peering curiously at the form the clerk had pulled out. Kieran stood a half-step back, silent.

The clerk took the cards. "Purpose of visit?"

"Uhm, the dungeon."

"Party register?"

"Sure."

The clerk glanced up. "You are registering your party to partake in the Rennick Dungeon."

"Yes? Yes."

The clerk slid a form over. "The party leader must read and sign this."

"What is this?" Nathan asked.

"Waiver."

"Waiver?"

The clerk stared at him. "Are you unable to read?"

"I can read." Jeez. Nathan looked it over.

Crater Rock Guild not liable for party member injuries and/or deaths.

Crater Rock Guild entitled to a five percent cut of collected items, taken at sale.

"Five percent cut?" Nathan looked at the clerk.

"Sign it or don't. If you don't, no dungeon."

Nathan sighed. He signed it.

He slid the form back to the clerk.

The clerk stamped once, twice, then filed it away. He then passed back the guild cards.

"Hold out your wrists."

"Our wrists?"

"For your passes. Your marks."

"Okay..."

He held out his wrist and asked the others to do the same.

The clerk took out something that looked very much a like an ink stamp, but he dipped it into something that glowed.

He held it above Nathan's wrist. The glow came out like a snake wrapped around Nathan's wrist and a symbol leeched into his skin before dissipating.

The clerk repeated the process on Kieran and Zam. He then sat back down and returned the stamp to its housing.

"Passes have been issued. Have a pleasant stay in Crater Rock. Next."

"Oh, we need directions to an inn." Nathan stood rooted.

The clerk looked irritated. He slowly opened a drawer, pulled something out.

A map?

"Thanks—" Nathan reached out.

The clerk pulled it back and held out his hand. "Six copper."

Nathan scoffed. "You know what? Never mind. We'll find it on our own."

"Suit yourself." The clerk said and put the map away. "Next."

Nathan rolled his eyes as the three of them moved away from the counter.

[ Objectives completed. Registered with Crater Rock Guild Hall and obtained dungeon pass ]
[ +10 party exp ]
[ Reward: City Map ]

Hint: Use your city map!

That would have been useful to know earlier.

He led them outside and down the stairs.

Nathan opened the new square on his map tab. It reduced his clouded world view to a sharp, clear image titled: Crater Rock City Map. There were labels and side icons. An actual legend. The You Are Here dot actually made sense now.

This is pretty good. Nathan smiled.

"You have a map." Zam stated.

"It looks usable." Kieran added.

Nathan looked from side to side. When had they both crowded in?

“Oh! Look at all the things to do.” Zam poked the screen.

“The inn is what we should locate first. It is dark now.” Kieran pointed. “There are five locations.”

“Would you both please calm down. Let’s just go to the closest inn first.”

“I am calm,” Kieran said, holding his finger midair.

“Yes, sir,” Nathan said, and started walking. “Let’s go.”

They didn’t get a room at the first inn.

Or the second.

By the third, Nathan had stopped hoping and was operating on grim forward momentum alone.

Zam, meanwhile, was having the time of his life.

“Oh, this one looks promising!” he said for the third time in as many streets, already halfway through the door before Nathan had finished exhaling.

It wasn’t.

No occupancy seemed to be the theme of the evening.

“What if there are no vacancies?” Nathan murmured. “I refuse to sleep in another adventurer field.”

“The one here would undoubtedly be more crowded than the one in Graystone,” Kieran said.

“No joke.” Nathan sighed. “This place is bursting at the seams. Well. On to the next one?”

Kieran nodded.

Nathan turned. Zam was gone.

“…Where the hell did he go now?”

Kieran spoke suddenly. “They charge a city entrance fee.”

“What?” Nathan asked, turning in a slow circle. “Zam?”

“Tch. Security,” Kieran continued. “They announce themselves, take coin, and allow anyone through. If the money were going toward city utilities, they could at least maintain their infrastructure.”

Nathan stopped looking for Zam and stared at him.

Why does he sound like an old man?
Why is he talking so much?

“They can’t even manage their sewage system,” Kieran added. “The stench is unbearable.”

He's uncomfortable. He talks when he's uncomfortable. Noted.

“Right?” Nathan said. “It really does stink. I mean, they have sewers. I’ve seen grates.”

“I heard it’s all backed up.”

Zam popped out from behind Kieran, holding three sticks of meat that smelled incredible. He offered one to Nathan and one to Kieran.

“Where were you?” Nathan asked, accepting the stick. “You can’t just run off.”

“I’ll eat later,” Kieran said, waving it away.

Zam retracted the second with a grin. “More for me. They were selling food and it looked good.”

Nathan sighed and took a bite.

…Yeah. It's good.

“What did you say about it being backed up?”

Zam’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh! Yeah, at the guild hall. I overheard some of the other groups talking. City’s so full the sewers couldn’t handle it.”

He laughed. “Whole place is full of shit.”

Nathan snorted. Then laughed. He couldn’t help it. It was such a dumb joke.

“Accurate,” Kieran said, completely straight-faced.

“Oh, stop,” Nathan tried to say through another fit of laughter.

Zam was laughing as well.

When Nathan finally wiped at his eyes, he realized Kieran was smiling.

“Okay. Enough of that. Fourth time might be a charm?” Nathan said.

Zam and Kieran nodded.

“Lead the way, Boss,” Zam said, taking another bite.

Nathan and Kieran both paused mid-step at the word, just for a second, before continuing.

Nathan shuddered. “Zam. Please don’t call me that.”

“Oh. Sorry, Draegor.”

“It’s fine,” Nathan said.

Boss. No more of that.

He followed the route on the map toward the next inn, aware of the other two trailing behind him.

When did I stop listening to conversations around me?
Had I been that deep in thought at the guild hall?

I am mentally exhausted.
Bath. I’ll feel more myself after a bath.

About fifteen minutes later, they reached the fourth inn.

“One room,” the innkeeper said flatly.

Nathan smiled. “Really? I was about to give up and—”

“One silver.”

“Excuse you?”

“One silver,” the innkeeper repeated. “One room. One night.”

Nathan exhaled through his nose. “No wonder you have a vacancy.”

He looked around. Rundown. Shabby.

"Do you have a bathroom?"

"Public bathhouse is down the street."

"You don't even have a bath here?" Nathan screeched. "I'll give you fifty copper. Not a coin over." He crossed his arms.

The innkeeper leaned forward. "Friend. Do you not see the line behind you?"

Nathan turned. Several people had lined up behind them.

"If you don't like the price. Leave. Someone else will give me a silver for it." The innkeeper smirked and leaned back.

Bastard piece of shit. Nathan's fist started balling up.

Kieran stepped up. "We'll take it. Draegor, give the man a silver."

Nathan spun. "Sir!"

The nerve.
The principle of it!

Kieran leaned close to Nathan's ear. "You are so stingy. Did you notice there is almost no smell in here? Do you really want to spend a night on their adventurer field?"

Nathan's shoulder slumped. "No. But I don't like his attitude." He stared at the innkeeper, grumbling as he pulled a silver coin from his inventory.

Kieran pried it out of his fingers and handed it to the innkeeper.

Nathan crossed his arms.

"Thank you for your business." The innkeeper said merrily, after he bit the coin.

Nathan's face contorted in disgust at the sight. "Does that really tell you if it's real or not? Ew."

The innkeeper ignored him and turned to the line behind them. “Sorry folks, no vacancies.”

Groans filled the air and people dispersed.

The innkeeper handed a key to Kieran. "Upstairs. Last door on the right."

Kieran took it and started toward a staircase.

Nathan gave the innkeeper one last glare.

The innkeeper kept his smirk. "You have a pleasant evening, guest."

"Hmph."

He turned and followed Kieran and Zam up the stairs.

"Capitalist piece of shit."

***

Kieran unlocked the door and pushed it open.

The room was… small. Clean enough. One narrow window. A table just big enough to pretend it had a purpose.

And one bed.

Nathan stared at it for half a second.

Then another.

“…I call a bed spot,” he said flatly. “You two can fight over the floor. I’m going to the bathhouse.”

Zam blinked. “Oh! I’ll take the floor.”

Nathan pointed at him. “Good. Settled.”

He rolled his shoulders and glanced at Zam’s pack. “I suggest you both do the same,” he added. “And don’t leave anything in the room.”

Kieran’s brow lifted slightly. “Anything.”

“Yes. Anything,” Nathan said. “I don’t trust the inn, and I’m not in the mood to replace gear.”

He turned back to Zam. “If you want, I can put anything of yours into my inventory.”

Zam’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Yes,” Nathan said. “All of it.”

“Oh. That’d be great, actually.”

Zam shrugged out of his pack and handed it over without hesitation. “I’ll just take what I need for the bath.”

Nathan took it and slid it into his inventory. “Done.”

Kieran watched the exchange silently.

Nathan paused at the door. “I’m serious,” he said. “If I don’t get into hot water in the next ten minutes, someone is dying.”

“That would complicate matters,” Kieran said mildly. His gaze went to the bed.

Nathan shot him a look. “Then keep up.”

He stepped into the hall, already moving.

Zam hurried after him. “Bathhouse it is!”

“Tavern after,” Kieran said, locking the door before following them.

The bathhouse really was just down the street. A quick walk. Inside, it was crowded and loud, steam hanging thick in the air. Separate sides for men and women, low voices echoing off stone.

Nathan accepted the small towel and wrapped it around his waist. He paused at the entrance of the men’s bath, suddenly aware of how full it was.

Whatever. It’s hot. Good enough.

He chose one of the tubs near the back, where the steam offered even more privacy. Two men were already there, eyes closed. Nathan nodded and eased in carefully, settling with his back to the edge and facing the room.

Zam arrived moments later, full volume and enthusiasm.

“Draegor! I’ve never been in a place like this.” He splashed in without hesitation. “Hello!”

Both men startled, then relaxed as Zam immediately launched into conversation.

Nathan smiled faintly. Our little extrovert.

Then Kieran stepped into view, a towel wrapped around his waist.

Nathan had never seen him like this.

Kieran was already watching him.

Nathan swallowed and looked away.

Heat rushed to his face. He closed his eyes.

Stop looking, idiot.

He lowered himself into the water just as Zam spoke again.

“Kieran! This is Markus and Jahon. They’ve been telling us about the dungeon!”

Nathan cracked one eye open.

They have?

“Whole city’s been like this for weeks,” Markus was saying.

“And it smells worse every day,” Jahon added.

“Don’t even start,” Markus groaned. “I’m trying not to think about it.”

Zam perked up. “We were talking about that earlier. This town is full of shit.”

The two men exchanged a look, then burst out laughing.

“Full of—”

“Shit,” Jahon finished, wiping his eyes. “That’s good.”

Zam grinned. “So why is everyone flooding in?”

Markus exhaled. “Right. The dungeon.”

Jahon nodded. “New floors opened.”

Kieran’s head lifted. “New floors?”

“Yeah,” Jahon said. “Been twenty years or so since the last one. Now there are two more.”

“Have you already cleared them?” Nathan asked.

They both laughed.

“We’re good,” Jahon said, “but not that good. No. We had to come back.”

Zam tilted his head. “Why?”

The two men glanced at each other.

“Well,” Markus said, shrugging, “not going to hurt us to say it.”

Jahon looked at Zam. “Mage.”

“Mage,” Zam repeated.

“Mage,” Nathan echoed.

Kieran said nothing.

Markus and Jahon nodded.

“You need a mage to clear the first new floor,” Markus said. “Probably the next one too.”

“Essential,” Jahon added.

“We came back to secure one,” Markus continued. “But they’re hard to find.”

“Especially now,” Jahon said. “Everyone’s looking.”

“And expensive,” Markus added.

“Even for Iron-tiers.”

They exchanged another look.

“We heard Meru Oglivos is in the city.”

Zam’s eyes widened. “The Meru Oglivos?”

Markus nodded. “The one and only. Mythrilon-tier mage.”

Zam let out a low breath. “Everyone who knows he’s in town will be clambering for him.”

"Exactly." Jahon said.

Nathan stared.

Mythrilon.
Like Mythril, but make it endgame.
Yeah. High tier.

“Is he that good?” Kieran asked. “This Meru mage?”

All three men turned toward him at once.

Markus stared, then let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Good?”

“He’s one of the most sought-after mages in the world,” he said, his voice rising before Jahon quickly cut in.

“Keep it down,” Jahon muttered, glancing around.

Markus lowered his voice. “We’re actually going to try our luck with him after we leave here.”

“Your luck?” Zam asked.

Jahon nodded. “Yeah. He’s got a bit of a competitive streak.”

“Spends most nights at Mel’s Tavern,” Markus added. “Back room.”

Jahon smirked. “Rumor is, if you beat him at Pogo, he’ll work with you.”

“Plus his fee,” Markus said.

“And a hefty cut of the bounty,” Jahon finished.

Nathan blinked. “Pogo?”

Jahon snorted. “Yeah. No one’s beaten him yet.”

“Not for lack of trying,” Markus added. “People line up. Lose. Pay for drinks. Lose again.”

Jahon shifted in the water. “Anyway. That’s our plan.”

Markus nodded. “We’re heading over now. Mel’s Tavern. Back room.”

“If you want to try your luck later,” Jahon said, glancing between them, “you’re welcome to.”

They pushed up from the tub, towels gathered.

“Maybe we’ll see you later,” Markus added, already turning away.

They waved once and disappeared into the steam.

“What the fuck is Pogo?” Nathan asked.

Zam stared after them, eyes bright. “Okay. Pogo.”

Nathan tilted his head toward him. “I’m listening.”

“It’s… a board game,” Zam said, already sounding unsure. “Small. Squares. Tokens. Cards. You don’t really… take things. Not like you’d expect.”

“Helpful.”

Zam winced. “Look, you place tokens to show where you are. Cards are for what might happen. You don’t want too much space, but you don’t want none either.”

“That clears it right up,” Nathan muttered. “Sounds like you aren’t exactly an expert.”

“I’ve seen it played once or twice,” Zam said quickly. “If you win too fast—”

Nathan snorted. “Win too fast?”

“No, really,” Zam insisted. “People who go hard early always lose. Losing early isn’t bad. Usually.”

“I have no idea what you’re trying to say.”

Zam deflated. “Right. Okay. That didn’t make sense. Let me try again—”

Nathan tuned him out.

We do need a mage.
Badly.
Even if it’s just to train Kieran. Even temporarily.

His gaze drifted without permission.

Kieran sat across the tub, eyes half-lidded, water lapping at his shoulders. Still. Alert even at rest.

Kieran’s eyes opened.

Nathan looked away a second too late and sank a little deeper into the water, heat crawling up his neck.

Why am I embarrassed?
I was just thinking about his training.

Kieran stood, water streaming off him. “I am finished.”

Zam paused. “Oh.”

“We should head to that tavern,” Kieran continued, unbothered. “I am hungry. And I would like to see this game.”

Nathan leaned back against the stone. “You think we have a shot?”

Kieran met his eyes, calm as ever. “You are very good at games.”

“I never said I liked them,” Nathan said. “That was the tutorial. And I still have no idea what Pogo even is. Do you?”

“I did my best!” Zam whined.

“No idea,” Kieran said, wrapping his towel tighter. “I’m famished. Let’s eat. And talk about it at the tavern.”

Nathan huffed a laugh despite himself and stood. “Fine.”

Zam mumbled, “Not my fault.”

"Come on." Nathan said. "Let's go eat. And watch some... Pogo."

"Alright, alright." Zam replied.

The tavern was loud in the way only crowded places ever were. Not chaos. Just too many voices stacked on top of one another, laughter ricocheting off low beams, the scrape of chairs and boots against wood. Heat clung to the air, thick with grease and smoke and spilled ale.

Nathan slid onto the bench and exhaled.

It was past the point he liked to still be thinking.

Food hit the table moments later. Bread, meat, something fried. He didn’t bother asking what it was. He tore into it with a kind of relief that surprised him.

I wish there were something fresh. Just one vegetable.

Beer followed. Dark. Cold. Blessedly uncomplicated.

Nathan took a long pull and closed his eyes for half a second.

Okay. That helped. Fuck vegetables.

Zam was already talking, gesturing with his fork. “I’m telling you, this is better than it looks. Which is saying something, because it looks like it might kill us.”

Kieran ate in silence, posture straight even on the narrow bench, movements economical.

Nathan took another drink and leaned back, letting the noise blur together.

Zam had already turned around, talking animatedly to some old timers at the table behind them.

Kieran leaned forward. "Don't drink too much. You are the one that has to learn that game."

“I’m not a lightweight. Let me enjoy my beer,” Nathan huffed, taking another swig.

Kieran leaned back with a smile.

"Draegor." Nathan glanced at Zam. "This guy knows the rules!"

Uh-huh. Great. Wonderful.

Nathan forced a smile and stood up. "Is that right?"

He walked over to their table. He gestured at an empty seat. "Mind if I join you?"

A grizzled man stared at him bleary-eyed.

“Ale’s on me.”

Three men at the table howled in glee. “Sit, sit.”

“I’ll tells yah all I know ’bout Pogo.”

Mhm. Not inspiring confidence. Here we go.

After an hour, Nathan felt like he had the basics down.

The board was small. Too small to brute-force. Tokens showed presence, not ownership, and losing one didn’t mean much on its own. Cards mattered, but not the way people thought. Half the time you played them face down, betting on what they might be worth instead of what they were.

Winning early was bad. Nathan finally understood what Zam had been trying to say earlier. You got locked into choices before the board had finished forming.

The real goal wasn’t taking pieces. It was forcing the other player to protect something they couldn’t afford to lose.

Nathan frowned into his second beer.

That wasn’t a game about luck.

It was strategy.

Fuck.

He’d been keeping an eye on the backroom.

People went in laughing. Loud. Confident.

They didn’t come out the same way.

No cheering. No boasting. Just tight expressions and quick exits. He didn’t see a single winner leave.

Nathan set his mug down and nodded. “Well. Now’s as good a time as any, I suppose.”

Kieran rose without comment. Zam followed, less enthusiastic now.

They thanked the men at the table and headed toward the backroom door.

There was an entrance fee.

Of course there was.

Per person.

Nathan pulled out seventy-five copper.

He glanced at Kieran.

Please, let's just forget about it. Say never mind.

“Let’s go, Draegor,” Kieran said. “Hand the man the coin.”

Nathan sighed and dumped the coins into a waiting sack.

The doorman shook the sack, smiled, and gestured toward the door. "Welcome."

Nathan pushed the door open.

He walked in and let his eyes adjust. It was dimmer in here.

The sound dropped immediately. Not quiet, but contained. The roar of the tavern dulled to a low hum, voices pressed closer together, laughter tighter, more deliberate. Smoke hung thicker here, clinging to the air instead of drifting.

Nathan took a few more steps.

He barely registered the door being shut behind him.

There were several tables, each with a board between them. Pogo, he assumed. Some games were loose, half-hearted, players leaning back with drinks in hand. Others were tense, bodies hunched forward, eyes locked on cards and tokens. Coin moved constantly. Sometimes toward the center. Sometimes away.

But one table pulled everything toward it.

It wasn’t the noisiest. It wasn’t the largest. It was simply surrounded.

People stood two deep around it, packed close enough that Nathan had to angle his shoulder to get nearer. No cheering. No shouting. Just focused attention, eyes tracking the board, breath held a fraction too long between plays.

Nathan followed the pressure without thinking.

The crowd shifted, just enough.

And then he saw him.

The man sat easy in his chair, one arm draped over the back, posture loose. He wore a silk tunic, the kind meant to be laced shut. It wasn’t. The front hung open to his navel, fabric slipping back every time he leaned or laughed. Jewelry caught the low light. A pendant rested bare against his chest. Piercings flashed when he turned his head.

Men and women clustered close to him, hands on his shoulders, his arms, his chair. He let it happen, unbothered, like it was expected.

He looked young. Late twenties, maybe. Muscular.

Not what I was expecting.
At all.

The man laughed at something one of the players said and leaned back further, pendant shifting against his tanned skin. Nathan’s gaze followed it and then shifted to the man's earrings.

Nathan's hand lifted toward his right ear.

He stopped himself.

Mason’s ears weren’t pierced. He had no earrings to adjust here. Right.

Nathan dropped his hand and refocused on the table.

The man was losing.

Coins sat stacked on the other side of the board. Tokens were gone from his space, taken cleanly, decisively.

Nathan’s eyes tracked the board instead. The placements. The way the other players leaned forward, voices loud with confidence, already talking about the next hand.

The confidence didn’t line up with the board.

"That's him. Definitely Meru." Zam whispered in Nathan's ear.

"Yeah. I figured." Nathan whispered back without taking his eyes off the board.

He could feel Kieran next to him. Observing.

Nathan glanced toward Kieran and followed his line of sight. Not the board. Meru.

A man leaned close to Meru, whispering something in his ear.

Meru laughed. The man’s hand rested against his chest, fingers trailing without hesitation. Meru let it happen for a moment longer.

Then, without looking away from the board, he nudged the hand aside and briefly touched the chain of his pendant.

Nathan’s gaze flicked back to the board.

Meru’s side was still thinning. Another token gone. A low murmur rippled through the onlookers, someone already reaching for coin, too eager.

Meru smiled into his drink.

He still hadn’t looked rattled.

Nathan shifted his weight, angling for a better view of the board. The layout was wrong. Not losing-wrong. Misleading-wrong. Spaces closing in ways the crowd didn’t seem to notice yet, pressure building where no one was defending it.

Beside him, Kieran hadn’t moved.

Nathan didn’t look at him this time. He didn’t need to. He could feel it. Kieran’s attention wasn’t casual. The kind that meant something had already registered.

At the table, the man across from Meru laughed and slapped down a card. “There. Let’s finish this.”

Meru tipped his head slightly, eyes still on the board. “If you’re sure.”

The man grinned. Too wide. Too pleased with himself.

Meru reached forward and placed a token. Not defensively. Almost lazily.

Conversation snagged.
The board shifted.

Not physically. But Nathan felt it all the same. Options closing. Paths narrowing. The laughter around the table faltered, voices trailing off as people leaned closer, brows furrowing.

Nathan went very still.
There it is.

Winning early was bad.

The man hesitated. Too long.

“Damn it.” He pushed back from the table.

Meru leaned back at last, satisfied, and lifted his gaze.

Not to the board.

To Kieran.

Meru’s eyes lingered on Kieran for a heartbeat longer than necessary.

Then he smiled.

Not wide. Not friendly. Assessing.

The space around the table shifted. People straightened. Someone behind Nathan muttered, disappointed. Coins were gathered. A chair at another table scraped back.

“Next,” Meru said lightly, fingers drumming once against the edge of the board.

Meru didn’t look away from Kieran.

Nathan felt it then.
The attention. The weight settling.

He stepped forward before he could think better of it.

“We’re next,” Nathan said.

Meru’s gaze slid to him at last.

Up. Down.

A pause. Just long enough to be deliberate.

“You’re confident,” Meru said.

Nathan shrugged. “I’ve lost before.”

Meru’s smile deepened, amused now. “Good. People who haven’t are boring.”

He gestured toward the empty chair across from him.

“Sit.”

Nathan dragged a breath in through his nose and reached for the chair, fingers curling around the back as he pulled it out.

Meru's eyes drifted back to Kieran.

“Unless,” he added, voice mild, “you’d rather go first.”

Nathan’s grip tightened on the chair until his knuckles went white.

What the fuck did this bitch—

“I don’t play games I don’t understand,” Kieran said evenly. “And I don’t interfere.”

Meru’s smile didn’t fade.
It sharpened.

“I think you’d find this interesting,” Meru said, fingers curling briefly under his chin.

Kieran didn't respond.

Nathan hesitated.

I want to punch this man in the face. We can just find another mage. Fuck this guy—

Nathan stopped himself just short of finishing the thought.

I can do this. I want to do this.

He pulled the chair back another inch and sat, jaw tight.

Meru sighed, finally pulling his attention away from Kieran to face Nathan.

He gathered the tokens and shuffled.

“Presence,” he said, eyes on the pieces. “Is key.”

Nathan nodded once, eyes already on the board.

Sure. Whatever.

Meru dealt.

They placed their first tokens.

Meru’s movements slipped back into that lazy, casual manner, like he wasn’t thinking about it at all. Nathan clocked the misdirection immediately and ignored it, choosing placement over reaction.

The board filled slowly.

Too slowly for the crowd.

Someone scoffed. Someone else leaned in, impatient. Coin clinked as bets were placed anyway, faith outrunning sense.

Cards followed.

Face down.

Meru smiled as he wagered.
Not at Nathan.
At Kieran.

Nathan saw it.

He didn’t look up again.

He committed.

Too soon.

Zam made a noise and was immediately quieted.

The mistake was subtle. The board tightened in a way Nathan hadn’t expected, pressure snapping shut along a line he’d assumed was flexible.

Meru flipped his card.

Nathan lost.

Clean.
Efficient.
No drama.

Coin shifted across the table.

A woman laughed softly, delighted. Someone clapped Meru on the shoulder.

Meru didn’t even look pleased.

“Again?” he asked mildly.

“I’m next!” a man protested.

Meru lifted his gaze.

“I choose who I play with.”

The room obeyed.

Nathan stared back at the board.

Yeah. I see it.

He nodded. “Again.”

Meru’s smile was small. Satisfied.

“Very well.”

He gathered the tokens.

The cards were shuffled.

This time, Nathan waited.

He let Meru take space. Let him build presence. Let the board open wider than felt safe.

Every instinct screamed at him to close it down.

He didn’t.

A strange sensation prickled behind his eyes. Familiar. Like the tutorial, when the rules bent and his brain was forced to keep up.

Something clicked.

[ Experience Gained: Logic +2 ]

He almost laughed.

Meru raised a brow, watching him more closely now.

Cards went down.

Nathan folded early.

Too early.

Folding early wasn’t surrender.
It was refusal.

The crowd cheered, still rooting for Meru.

Meru frowned. “That’s not optimal.”

Nathan shrugged. “Neither is bleeding for pride.”

Meru’s brow lifted. He chuckled, low.

They played on.

Meru didn’t ask if Nathan wanted to continue.
He simply assumed it.

Nathan lost again.

Not badly.
But deliberately.

He wasn’t trying to win.
He was trying to see what made Meru adjust.

He felt the rhythm now.
The way Meru guided pressure outward instead of inward.
How every loss narrowed the board into fewer, sharper choices.

Winning early was bad.

He adjusted.

It still wasn’t enough to win.

So he changed what he was doing instead.

When Nathan committed again, it was late.
Careful.
Surgical.

Meru’s fingers paused over the board.

Just for a second.

The board shifted.

Not physically.
But Nathan felt it like a held breath breaking.
Paths narrowed.
Space vanished.

Meru flipped his card.

Nathan lost.

But Meru had to give ground to take it.
He spent space he’d been holding—
a future token he hadn’t planned to use yet.

Meru leaned back slowly, eyes never leaving the board.

“Interesting.”

Nathan didn’t smile.
He studied the placements.
The pressure he’d forced without meaning to.

“I’m not good at this,” Nathan said quietly. “But I learn fast.”

Meru’s gaze lifted.

This time, fully.

“One more?” Meru asked.

Nathan shook his head. “No.”

That got him a look.
Sharp.
Amused.

“No?”

Nathan met his eyes. “Will you come work with us in the dungeon?”

The room inhaled.

Meru laughed.
Low.
Genuinely pleased.

“Why should I?” he asked. “You haven’t beaten me once.”

Nathan leaned back. “You’re intrigued.”

He glanced at Kieran. “And you want to train him.”

Kieran twitched.

Silence stretched.

Meru looked at Kieran again.
Longer now.
Measuring.

Then he stood.

The crowd groaned.

“That’s enough for tonight,” Meru said lightly.

He gathered the board himself, unhurried, then leaned down close enough that Nathan caught smoke and spice on his skin.

“You played a very interesting game,” Meru murmured. “And you make an enticing offer.”

His eyes flicked once to Kieran.

“And you,” he added pleasantly, “are going to draw attention whether you want it or not.”

Nathan bristled.

Meru straightened, already turning away.

“I don’t join parties,” he said. “But I do contract.”

He smiled over his shoulder.

“Meet me at the guild hall tomorrow morning. Nine.”

He paused.

“And I don’t work for free.”

Nathan nodded.
Meru waved once over his shoulder as he walked toward the door, the entourage moving like it had been waiting for permission.

Nathan held his breath until Meru left the room.

Then he exhaled.

Zam clapped him on the shoulder. “The Meru is going to work with us!”

“Yeah.” Nathan shook his head. “I didn’t win once, though.”

He stood.

Kieran approached.

“You did get us to our goal.”

He turned, then looked Nathan in the eye.

“You used me as leverage,” Kieran said. “I didn’t appreciate it.”

Nathan snorted. “Sorry. I had to throw you into the pot to make the deal.”

Kieran huffed once.

“Let’s go back to the inn. It’s very late.”

***

When they got back to their room, Nathan pulled Zam's pack out of his inventory.

Zam rolled out his bedroll, said goodnight, and was asleep before Nathan and Kieran had gotten into bed.

They both stared at it.

Smaller than I thought.

Nathan just went for it. He got under the covers. It felt so much better than the bedroll.

Kieran blew out some candles.

Nathan felt the bed depress as Kieran sat on the edge.

"I can let you have the bed Draegor. If you'll just grab my bedroll."

Zam snored.

"Where would you even lay it out, sir? The room is too narrow."

Kieran didn't answer.

"It's fine. I'll make myself small."

He might have heard Kieran laugh.

Nathan stayed on his back. His hands folded across his stomach.

Then the bed creaked as Kieran also laid down on his back.

He put his arms down at his sides.

Neither of us is going to get any sleep. Fuck.

Minutes dragged on.

Kieran shifted.

More minutes.

"Draegor?"

Nathan startled.

"Yes?"

"You did well."

"Thanks."

"I'm sure the dungeon will pose no issue. I'm also happy to receive some magic guidance." He paused. "Even if it is from that person."

Nathan chuckled. "He certainly seems like a character."

"Character. Yes."

"And he definitely likes you, sir."

"That man is irksome."

They were quiet for a few moments.

“Anything we learn here… will we still be able to use it once we leave?” Kieran asked.

“I’ve been wondering that myself. If the interface goes with us. If my skills are usable outside of this place.”

“That could matter—” Kieran started to say.

A blue notification screen lit up over them.

[ Initializing... ]
[ ACCESS BLOCKED ]
[ Reinitializing… ]
[ ACCESS BLOCKED ]

That's like before, but it almost seems... like it's getting closer now.

The notifications vanished and the room was dark again.

“What was that Draegor?” Kieran asked.

“I think,” Nathan said quietly, “something is trying to get through.”