Chapter 13: The Party Forms

  The Frog Leg Inn was exactly how we’d left it. As we walked into the center of town, the lanterns outside bathed the Hollow in a soft orange-red glow, casting long shadows across the forested village. It almost looked haunted, but in a cozy, storybook kind of way. The closer we got, the clearer the tavern’s soundtrack became—faint music, raucous laughter, the clatter of mugs and voices raised in joy or argument.

  Bromm had split off, muttering something about seeing what Zibbin might offer for the Rootspire Bulb Bob had sniffed out like a truffle pig with a treasure map. That left me and Veldrin heading toward the inn.

  As we approached the door, Veldrin leaned in with a sly grin.

  “Now watch closely,” he said. “Observe how effortlessly I persuade our dear Elunara to join us. A masterclass in recruitment.”

  Then he strutted inside, picked a table and dropped into a seat like he owned the place.

  Elunara caught sight of us, waved, and held up a single finger—wait—before disappearing through the kitchen door. Veldrin cleared his throat dramatically just as she returned.

  “Elunara,” he began, leaning forward like he was about to unveil a secret. “How long has it been since you used your magic for something other than seasoning stew?”

  She stopped mid-step, raised a brow, and crossed her arms.

  “You know exactly how long it’s been,” she said flatly.

  Veldrin hesitated, just for a heartbeat—long enough to betray that he did, in fact, know. Then, with a breath and a flick of his wrist, he slipped back into his usual bravado.

  “Ah. Right. Yes. Time, like my brilliant insights, moves ever forward.” He cleared his throat and straightened his coat. “But this isn’t about reliving the past, it’s about aiding the present. Young Arthur here finds himself on the cusp of his potential, and we,” he gestured grandly, “are assembling a party to help him realize it. A dungeon, Elunara.

  At the mention of the word dungeon, Elunara's expression shifted in an instant. She bit her lower lip, her gaze drifting upward—not in annoyance or exasperation, but in thought. Maybe memory.

  There was a flicker of something behind her eyes. Nostalgia? Anticipation? I didn’t have to dwell on it long, she looked excited. Genuinely.

  Before she could respond, the door swung open behind us. Bromm stepped in, shaking off a bit of dust from his boots. Just as the door began to shut, I caught a glimpse of Bob trotting away outside, looking smug with a whole apple clamped in his mouth.

  Elunara glanced at Bromm, then gave a small smile. She rapped her index knuckle once on the table and turned, disappearing into the kitchen.

  Bromm dropped into the seat beside me, a wide grin on his face.

  “Old Zibbin was real excited to take that Rootspire bulb off me. Drinks are on me tonight!”

  That was something I could toast to.

  As if summoned by the thought, Elunara returned—bread in one hand, a plate of tankards balanced in the other. She set them down on the table with practiced ease before slipping into the seat beside Veldrin.

  “Veldrin tells me you’re all going delving?” she asked, her tone casual but her eyes sharp.

  Bromm snorted. “Aye…”

  She turned slightly toward him. “And you’re going too?”

  Bromm exhaled through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “Wouldn’t be too wise to leave Arthur here alone with Veldrin, now would it? So aye... I’m goin’.”

  A big smile spread across Elunara’s face.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said quickly, getting up and heading toward the kitchen again.

  I tore off a piece of bread and took a long gulp of my drink. Bromm and Veldrin followed suit. They immediately fell into bickering., Veldrin demanding to know how much the Rootspire Bulb sold for, and Bromm refusing to tell him just to be difficult.

  I let their voices fade into the background as I looked around the room—left, then right. Taking it all in.

  Dungeons. Parties. Treasures.

  A grin crept across my face.

  This wasn’t how I pictured the afterlife… but I couldn’t be happier. There was so much potential here. So many different paths I could take. And for the first time since arriving, I knew exactly what I wanted.

  All I had to do was survive long enough to build something real.

  Adventuring. Exploring dungeons, hunting treasure, battling monsters... That’s what I wanted. But also… so much more.

  Surviving wasn’t enough. I needed to train—get stronger, faster, smarter. If I wanted to thrive in this world, I’d need to sharpen myself against the things that lurked in its shadows. And what better place to do that... than a dungeon?

  Elunara came hurrying back, apron gone. She slid into the seat beside Veldrin, still smirking like a kid in a candy store.

  “I’m in,” she said.

  We all let out a cheer. I raised my tankard with a grin.

  The others looked at me for a heartbeat—then, one by one, they raised theirs too.

  The tankards clinked together, foam spilling over at the contact.

  “To a new life of adventuring!” I said, unable to keep the grin off my face.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “To adventuring!” they echoed, voices loud and full of promise.

  We made our plan then and there. At first light, we’d set out—but not before a stop at Haldrek’s to get me some proper gear. My current outfit was little more than torn linen and dried blood at this point, hardly fit for an adventurer-in-training.

  While we discussed the route and what we might face, Veldrin made a point of retelling our Riftjaw Lurker encounter in excruciating detail, mostly to highlight just how pathetic I’d looked during it.

  Apparently, it was absolutely essential that Elunara knew I had “flopped about like a stunned rabbit.”

  But as the laughter faded, Veldrin’s tone shifted. He spoke of the real dangers ahead, collapsed tunnels, ancient traps still primed after centuries, monsters that had made the ruins their home. This wasn’t like brawling with a few gnolls in the wild. This was different. One wrong step, and my adventuring career would end before it ever began.

  And yet… I wasn’t shaken.

  This, right here, sitting in a warm inn with tankards raised and allies at my side, this was the life I wanted. So no. I wouldn’t hesitate. Wouldn’t run. Because I was going to make damn sure my first dungeon wouldn’t be my last.

  After a few more drinks—and a round of Ferowen—we each turned in for the night, one by one.

  I hauled myself up the stairs of the inn, the wood creaking beneath my feet, a pleasant warmth buzzing through me.

  Tomorrow, we set out.

  Adventuring.

  I was still grinning.

  Dungeons…" I shook my head, half in disbelief, half in wonder.This is my life now.

  My head hit the pillow, and darkness took me. My mind began to settle.

  Then— POP.

  My eyes shot open. I sighed.

  At the end of my bed, perched like a goblin on caffeine, was the imp.

  “Your very first dungeon!” he said gleefully, grinning ear to ear, his needle-like teeth stretching far too wide for his face.

  He sat cross-legged, fist under his chin, resting his head sideways in an exaggerated pose of mock thoughtfulness.

  “Old Veldrin’s gonna get you killed,” the imp cackled. “All these scholars think they know best, but no one asks me nothin’! And I’ve been around since… well, time itself!”

  I pursed my lips. “So you’d help me, then? Are you saying you know what my magic is? Or if I even have any?”

  The imp’s eyes fluttered dramatically, head tilting even farther to the side as he rubbed his stomach like he’d just eaten something satisfying.

  “Oh, this is delicious,” he purred. “You really don’t have any idea, do you? Man, this must be torture for you!”

  He burst into laughter again, kicking his legs as he reclined in midair, like the world's most annoying bedtime demon.

  “I tell you what,” he said, grinning ear to ear, “you get old Veldrin to pull me outta this phase-shift—he’s been scribblin’ away at it, I know, and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

  He wiggled his eyebrows. “Secrets, power, even the stuff Veldrin’s too scared to look into. All yours. Just gotta do one little favor.”

  He let the word one drag out, thick with implication.

  There were plenty of things I didn’t know here in Selion, but one thing felt certain—making a deal with a demon imp was probably a terrible idea. I didn’t have to rely on him. Honestly, things had been falling into place well enough without his help. I might not be an expert at anything here yet, but I was still alive, and that had to count for something.

  “I’ll talk to Veldrin,” I said. “Get his opinion.”

  The imp visibly deflated, shoulders slumping like a popped balloon. But he recovered quickly, pasting on a half-hearted grin.

  “Oh, right—of course, of course... Wouldn’t expect anything else,” he said, the smile not quite reaching his eyes.

  Then—pop—he vanished.

  He had a way of phasing in at the worst possible moments, only to disappear when it suited him best. That was... interesting. I couldn't help but wonder how random this phase-shift really was. Or if it was random at all.

  Time dragged on.

  No matter how many times I adjusted my position, how tightly I wrapped the blanket around me, or how hard I tried to focus on breathing slow and deep, rest refused to come.

  The encounter with the imp had left me uneasy.

  Knowing he was always there, in some way, lurking, watching, listening, put my nerves on edge. And the way he spoke, like he wanted something from me, left a weight on my chest I couldn’t shake. Like I was never truly alone, even when no one else was around.

  I gave up on sleep.

  Instead, I threw on my bloodied linen shirt and pants, still stiff in places from dried muck and old wounds, and stepped out into the quiet darkness of the Hollow.

  The moon hung high, bright as ever, casting a pale, eerie glow across the village. It wasn’t enough to make out distant shapes in detail, but it lit the paths well enough to know where you were going. It was never truly dark here, not even beneath the towering canopy.

  Even without the moonlight, the Hollow had its own strange glow.

  Bioluminescent plants pulsed faintly across the forest floor and clung to the lower trunks, their colors shifting in purples and blues like living lanterns. Tiny fungi blinked like stars in the underbrush. Out here, the night didn’t feel empty—it felt alive.

  Once again, I didn’t travel far. Just far enough to be out of sight, so I wouldn’t look like a complete jackass if anyone happened to glance my way.

  Like before, I drew my axe. And I swung. Again and again. I moved through different patterns, different angles, trying to find a rhythm that made sense. That felt right.

  The swings were clean—true, just as Bromm had described. But something was missing. Some part of me felt… off-balance. Exposed.

  Maybe it was the Riftjaw encounter still rattling around in my head, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I didn’t want to rely on a short weapon like this anymore. Not exclusively.

  I needed reach. Something that gave me room to breathe in a fight. Something that could keep danger at a distance—buy me time where my lack of experience couldn’t.

  I sliced the air a few more times. Then—

  A scream.

  High-pitched. Frantic. A woman? A child? I didn’t wait to find out.

  I bolted toward the sound, crashing through the trees and underbrush, heart pounding.

  When I reached the spot, nothing. Just quiet woods.

  Then—a rustle in the brush.

  I raised my buckler, axe high, every muscle coiled. Another rustle, closer now. Twigs snapped.

  And then it burst out.

  A creature, not a person. It looked like a fox... if a fox had been mashed together with a rabbit. It was long and lean like a fox, but its tail was just a fluffy puff, like a rabbit’s. Its fur shimmered in hues of white and deep violet, the colors swirling in mesmerizing patterns that seemed to move on their own, like flowing water.

  It let out another high-pitched cry, the same scream I’d heard before, and darted off into the woods.

  I lowered my axe, exhaling a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

  “Seriously?” I muttered, rubbing my face. “Screaming fox-rabbits.”

  I shook my head. I didn’t quite know what I was expecting… but it sure wasn’t that. Still, I was glad that’s all it was.

  My heart was still pounding, but the rush was fading. Time to head back to the Frog Leg. We had adventuring to do in the morning.

  The walk back felt quieter than before, like the woods were giving me a moment of peace before the storm. When I reached the inn, it was still. No persistent imp. No strange noises. Just the soft creak of the floorboards, the familiar shape of my pack near the window, and my bed waiting for me.

  Tomorrow, we go explore a dungeon.