Forge peered into the treasure chest.

  There was gold, a few mana crystals, some gems, and a runed leather bracer that pulsed with a soft blue light.

  Cinder stood by, grinning his saurian smile, and waited expectantly.

  Falcon reached in and retrieved five gold coins, which she handed to Cinder, then picked up the bracer and studied it.

  “What sort of enchantment has a blue glowing rune?” she asked.

  Lioness took the bracer from her and inspected the rune carefully.

  “Runic colors are complicated, but generally blue represents detection magic,” she said.

  Shrugging, she handed the bracer to Forge to store.

  “I’ll be honest. Dungeons create magic items that I, as a Tier One enchanter, have no way of figuring out.”

  Gideon made a face. “Okay, but you have to have some idea what it does, right?”

  The Amazonian cleric put her hands on her hips and turned to the swordsman. “Oh, I can definitely figure it out. I just need to deconstruct it completely and learn the recipe for the enchantment. Would you like me to do that?”

  Gideon raised an eyebrow and stared back at her curiously.

  “Sure. Why not? Wouldn’t that mean that you could then create it and more like it?”

  “Of course. I could create a low rank version of the enchantment that may or may not be successful and would cost me a System point, if and when, I screwed up making it.”

  Falcon moved to stand between the pair and held up her hands.

  “Gideon, we’ll get it appraised at the Guild and then decide what to do with it. Lioness, I, for one, didn’t know that’s how you learned enchantment recipes, and we can keep it in mind as an option from now on. And Cinder, you did very well, and I’m proud of you.”

  Both Gideon and Lioness nodded their agreement while Cinder beamed at the praise, and the party made their way to the room’s exit.

  “Notice how Falcon calmed the situation down by talking? Bickering between ourselves doesn’t help, and there’s always a way forward without conflict when dealing with friends,” Forge said.

  “Are you talking to Cinder or to us?” Gideon asked.

  “Yes,” Forge replied as he stepped into the tunnel.

  “I am not a teachable moment,” Lioness grumbled.

  Gideon stopped and turned to her. “Aren’t you, though?” he said with a grin.

  She smiled back and punched him in the stomach.

  “Yeah, I deserve that,” he wheezed.

  “Hurry, children. We’re coming up on the next room,” Falcon whispered harshly back at them.

  Gideon turned and found himself face to face with Forge’s mirrored mask.

  “I don’t want to see anymore of that. Do you two understand?”

  Forge’s no-nonsense voice took the pair by surprise, but Lioness grinned back.

  “We’re just screwing around.”

  “No. What you are doing is teaching a young, impressionable dragon that it is okay to hurt the ones you care for,” Forge stated.

  “We’re adventurers, we play hard,” Gideon said, placing a consoling hand on Forge’s shoulder.

  “When your job is to commit violence, using violence against a loved one, even in jest, is inappropriate. Do better,” Forge said, before turning and moving past Falcon to take the lead once again.

  Where Forge had stood, they saw Cinder, staring at them with his large watery dragon eyes.

  “Please don’t fight,” he sent them.

  Lioness bent down and scratched the dragon’s head. “I’m sorry, Cinder. We were just playing. Since we’re kind of a family, we sometimes start acting like kids again. We’ll do better, I promise.”

  The dragon’s face lit up with a wide smile. Then he turned and smoothly made his way back to Forge’s side.

  “Well, now I feel terrible,” Lioness muttered.

  Gideon snickered, and she turned to glare at him.

  “That was the very definition of crocodile tears,” Gideon said. “The little dragon knows how to use his cuteness like a rapier.”

  He held a hand up before she could say anything. “But Forge is right. We need to set a better example for Cinder. Or at least let him know when we’re just roughhousing.”

  “Agreed,” she said.

  From his spot in the front, Forge smiled beneath his mask.

  ***

  Forge stood at the edge of the corridor, staring into the room.

  Unlike the last, this room looked anything but natural.

  A large stone hall-like room with an intricate door at the far end lay in front of him.

  Intricate designs decorated the floor and walls of the long room, created by roots of all sizes.

  Though that was not what stopped him in his tracks. Six enormous wooden statues lined one wall, each displaying a body of monstrous proportions and the delicate features of an elven face.

  “What do you think?” Forge asked Falcon, who peered over his shoulder into the room.

  “Could be a puzzle room, a trap room, or those might just be golems, set to attack as soon as we enter,” she said.

  Forge studied the nearest statue and scanned the surrounding area.

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  “Cinder, stay here with the party. I’m going to approach the first statue,” he said.

  “Do you want me to check for traps?” Falcon asked.

  “Can you check for traps without alerting that statue if it turns out to be a golem?”

  She considered the wide-open corridor and shook her head. “Probably not.”

  “I have the best defense, so I’ll get close to it, and we can go from there,” Forge said.

  Lioness moved past Falcon and stood next to Forge.

  “I’ll be right behind you. If something happens, I can heal us.”

  “We all should go,” Gideon complained.

  Falcon turned to him and crossed her arms as she stared at the swordsman.

  “If we all go, who do we have left to provide backup if everything goes wrong?”

  “Cinder?” Gideon asked, looking down at the small saurian.

  Falcon looked down at the dragon. “Cinder, are you carrying any healing potions?”

  “Nope!”

  “What are you going to do if that thing comes to life and attacks Forge and Lioness?”

  “Kill it with fire!”

  She smiled at the dragon, then pulled a gold coin from her pocket and flipped it to him.

  “I’m glad someone pays attention during our training sessions.”

  Gideon glowered at Falcon.

  “He wasn’t even there. He was still sleeping at that session.”

  “Still heard,” Cinder said smugly.

  Forge grinned beneath his mask. He appreciated the friendly bickering. Dungeons were deathtraps by design and the steady repartee made the endeavor feel normal.

  Which, for them, was becoming so.

  “Moving,” Forge said, stepping out into the torch-lit hall.

  After two steps, he stopped and waited, listening for any sound. When nothing changed, he slowly made his way forward, angling towards the first statue.

  He stared up at the statue’s face. Up close, he had no doubt it wasn’t simple.

  The designs were too intricate, and the face too lifelike, to be anything other than some sort of animate being.

  Nothing had happened, and after a quick look over at the group standing at the room entrance, addressed the statue.

  “Hello, I am Forge, Paladin of Honos.”

  Nothing happened, and from behind him, he heard Lioness snicker.

  Ignoring the cleric, he tried a different approach.

  “What is your name?”

  The statue’s eyes opened and fixated on him.

  “I am a guardian of the green, here to cull the unworthy from venturing further.”

  The voice of the golem was feminine and authoritative, and he felt the strength of its words rebound from his will like a spell attack.

  About to respond, he stiffened as he heard Lioness speak.

  “What are your orders, guardian?”

  Her response had been devoid of emotion, and he grimaced beneath his mask, but made no move to act.

  “The green is life, but there can be no life without death. An endless cycle of entropy and renewal, but always a balance is maintained. Feed us and you may continue forward,” the statue stated.

  “It shall be done,” Lioness said, drawing her sword.

  Forge spun and held his empty hands up to the cleric.

  “Wait! We’ll feed the statues.”

  Lioness froze in place, sword barely cleared of her scabbard, and Forge breathed out a sigh of relief.

  “Cinder, Lioness is under the control of the statue, and I need to figure out a solution. Keep everyone back until I come up with something, please,” he sent.

  He felt the dragon’s acknowledgement and put the party out of his thoughts while he tried to parse the statue’s words.

  While a fight might end up being their only option, he knew there had to be a solution. He just needed to find it.

  Life and death. Balance. Feed us…

  An idea came to him, and he summoned two pieces of bitemunk meat from his ring, and held it out to the statue.

  “I present this sustenance to you in exchange for our safe passage.”

  “Accepted,” the statue said, and the small cubes of meat disappeared from his hand.

  He turned to see Lioness’s eyes clear as she stared at him, then up at the statue. Her eyes went hard, and her mouth set in a hard line.

  “Stop it,” Forge said, voice firm.

  “I know you’re angry, but getting mad at a dungeon puzzle will not help us,” he said.

  She glared angrily at him for a moment, then took a deep breath and sheathed her sword.

  “Thank you,” he said, relieved.

  Turning back to the statue, he summoned three more pieces of bitemunk meat and presented them.

  “I present this nourishment to you in exchange for the safe passage of my party.”

  “Accepted,” and once again, the meat disappeared from his hand.

  He turned to where the rest of the party stood at the entrance of the room. “Cinder, have everyone join us here, please.”

  The dragon sent his acknowledgement, and soon the party stood together before the statue.

  “Everyone, please don’t speak until we’ve gotten out of this room,” he told them.

  Falcon and Gideon looked confused, but nodded wordlessly.

  Like that, he approached each statue, made his request and offered the meat, which would disappear.

  As they approached the door, there was a shimmer, and a chest appeared, similar to how they would appear in boss rooms.

  Not wanting to stay in the golem hall any longer, Forge stored the chest and went through the door.

  Once everyone was through, he closed it and set his back against it.

  He breathed out a sigh and removed his mask.

  “That was remarkably stressful,” he said.

  “What in the world happened?” Falcon asked.

  Forge explained everything and the party nodded.

  “How did you figure it out?” Gideon asked.

  Forge grinned at the swordsman and wiped the sweat from his face.

  “It’s been my experience that dungeons always provide some sort of help or solution as you go. So, when we got 30 cubes of meat from the last room, I thought it was really strange.”

  He slid down the door and sat down as he spoke.

  “At the time I thought they might have some sort of buff, but the number was so arbitrary, it stuck with me. 30 pieces of meat. Then, when the statue said feed us, I thought, five of us, six statues, 30 pieces of meat…it seemed to make sense.”

  Gideon nodded. “Of course, it’s obvious.”

  Falcon sat down as well, and the others followed suit.

  “Obvious was it?” she asked Gideon.

  Gideon laughed. “Of course not! That is the most ridiculous logic I’ve ever heard. There’s no way most Rank One adventurers’ figure that out!”

  Lioness nodded her head in agreement. “Probably why we got rewarded a chest. We figured out the puzzle instead of smashing our way through.”

  “Food?” Cinder sent.

  Forge laughed. “Good idea, buddy!”

  He summoned meals he’d purchased from the Guild cafeteria for the party, and Gideon stopped him when he went to hand him a bowl of stew.

  “The big sandwich, please.”

  Forge stored the bowl and summoned the other half of the sandwich Zap had given him.

  The party stared at the massive sandwich, and the swordsman grinned at them.

  “I ate the other half in one sitting!” he proudly declared.

  Forge chuckled, and they all dug into their food, with Gideon ending up sharing half the sandwich with Cinder.

  “I have to find where he gets these made,” Gideon said between bites.

  Cinder nodded his agreement as the party relaxed.

  “Dungeons, Stress, and Sandwiches: A Paladin’s Memoir,” he sent Cinder.

  The dragon’s laughter soon had him laughing as well.

  A much-needed break, he thought.

  ***

  The carriage pulled to a stop in front of the capitol building of Scofrey, and Zap stepped out, followed by Jackal.

  Both were dressed in their old adventure gear, and they stopped to look over the many people climbing the steps of the palatial building.

  Two kingdom guards stood watch at the base of the wide stairway and fixed them with their hard gazes.

  The pair marched over to them, their polearms gleaming in the afternoon sun.

  “What’s this savage doing here?” a guard demanded, his polearm dipping down to gesture at Zap.

  Jackal smiled up at the troll.

  “What do you think? Out him?”

  “Definitely,” Zap growled.

  Jackal faced the man. “Son, what’s your name?”

  The guard looked over Jackal’s outfit and grimaced, but remained firm.

  “I’m sorry, sir. But we don’t allow savag…their kind, here in Scofrey.”

  “I asked for your name, boy!” Jackal barked.

  The guard flinched back, but then stood straight and thrust out his jaw.

  “Guard Lieutenant Franks…sir,” he stated, staring daggers back at him.

  Jackal looked up at Zap, whose face had all the warmth of an icy river.

  “Guard Lieutenant Franks, you are banished from the city of Scofrey, never to return. Thus stated, thus recorded, thus commanded,” Zap’s gravelly voice boomed.

  A wave of energy seemed to pass over the city, and the guard dropped his polearm and fell to a knee.

  “What?!” he gasped.

  Jackal crouched down and looked at him.

  “You have two options, boy. You can leave the city as fast as possible, which will stave off the effect of the geas, or you can declare war against the city, which will relieve the curse…until we kill you.”

  Guard Frank’s eyes rolled manically in his head, and he pushed himself up to his feet.

  He attempted to reach down to grab his polearm but grunted in pain at the effort. He began moving slowly and was soon running for the street nearby.

  Jackal watched him run before turning back to Zap.

  “We should have done this a while ago. We probably wouldn’t be in this mess if we monitored them better.”

  Zap grunted. “It’s not our place to run the city. It’s the Kingdom’s duty to run it and serve the civies.”

  Jackal nodded. “I guess we’ll just need to remind them of that.”

  The second guard stood nearby, indecision clearly warring on his face, but as the pair looked up at him, he took a step back, then turned and ran up the stairs of the capitol building.

  “At least they’ll be prepared for us,” Zap said.

  They began the climb up the white marble steps and watched as everyone nearby gave them a wide berth.

  “I wonder what sort of greeting we’ll receive,” Jackal chuckled.

  “Can’t wait to find out,” Zap growled, smacking a fist into his palm.

  “…cannot bloody wait.”