The Snob’s quick looked very different out his game leathers and all cleaned up. Tolliver paled, even paler than he already was, and Raith half expected him to use his stupid poof [Skill] to run. It wouldn’t have done him any good, since Raith was standing right in the doorway with a confused expression plastered across his face.

  “Did you come about joining the team?”

  That couldn’t be right. Nobles rarely adventured, and when they did, it was with a few peers and some servants. Maybe a Paragon, if their family had the money and connections to attract one to babysit. Not a lowly copper team from the Huecrafters District. Tolliver seemed to still be considering how he could escape this situation.

  “I, uh, well…this is really quite silly, isn’t it? Very sorry to bother you. I’ll just be on my way.” He moved to slide past Raith.

  “We haven’t found anyone yet.”

  Why did I say that? He’s a Snob and friends with that harpy’s ass Deven.

  A look passed over Tolliver’s face that Raith had trouble placing. Relief? Hope? Perhaps a bit of both.

  “Well, if it isn’t too much trouble, perhaps we can see if our priorities align.”

  Raith nodded towards the conference room and started that direction.

  “That’s exactly why we’re here. Come on in and have a seat.”

  The look on Thea’s face as they entered the conference room was priceless.

  “Where in the five realms did you find this arsehole?”

  Tolliver’s butt had barely touched the seat, and he stood right back up.

  “Oh my. This was clearly a mistake.”

  Raith held up a hand.

  “Wait. Please. Thea just chill out. It won’t hurt to hear what he has to say.” They both sat down, and Raith leaned forward. “And I’m more than a little curious to find out why you’re in here with us and not on a team with fancier clothes.”

  He may be willing to give this guy a chance, but Tolliver was still a noble.

  “It may surprise you to know that I do not get along particularly well with my peers.” He turned his nose up a bit as he spoke, unable to suppress that haughtiness all nobles seem to learn from birth. “It is my understanding that you are a [Scholar]. I have also seen that you are quite capable on the skirmisher pitch.”

  He rubbed at his throat and swallowed before continuing.

  “It is my wish to join a team who both appreciates the value of pursuing knowledge and exhibits the competence to survive the rigors of adventure.”

  Raith steepled his fingers and pursed his lips. That was actually a pretty good answer. He glanced at Nyhm, who sat impassively as usual, then raised an eyebrow to Thea. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was still glaring.

  “We don’t need another [Rogue],” she said.

  Tolliver looked confused, then offended.

  “I’m no common [Rogue]. The class is a pattern unique to my noble house. The magical arts are my foremost specialty and devotion.”

  “So you’re a [Mage].”

  “A [Sonorous Adept], yes.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Tolliver’s voice took on a lecturing tone, and Thea’s eyes narrowed.

  “I aspire to be a master of sound. The spells which I employ are thusly distinguished by their focus on the harmonic.”

  “Music?” Raith asked.

  The [Mage] looked as though Raith offered him a dirty sock.

  “Nothing so mundane. An Archmage of the Sonorous School can shatter the eardrums or organs of their foes, soar through the air on waves of sound, turn the bowels of an entire army to water with fear. Turn castle walls to dust at the highest levels.”

  Thea looked impressed, in spite of herself.

  “Can you cast any of those spells?” Raith asked.

  Tolliver went back to looking uncertain again. Raith liked this version of him better.

  “Not yet. It will be quite some time before I reach that level.” His face grew determined. “Which is precisely why I wish to venture forth with your team.”

  “Why did someone like you play skirmishers?”

  It was the first time Nyhm had spoken, and the question seemed an odd nonsequitor to Raith before giving it a moment’s thought. The man sitting in front of them did not seem like the rough and tumble type at all. More at home in a lorehall or a library than a skirmishers pitch.

  Tolliver’s face flushed as he squirmed in his seat and didn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

  “My father insisted.” There was an anger in his voice that Raith found hauntingly familiar. “He believed I was too bookish. Too soft.” He spat the last words. “The game was to toughen me up.”

  The [Mage] now looked up and met everyone’s eyes, in turn.

  “I find this rather embarrassing to admit, but my father is also the impetus for seeking an adventuring team at this time.” He looked away again and his voice grew very quiet. “I am being kicked out.”

  Being a disappointment to your parents was uncomfortably relatable to Raith. In spite of his distaste for nobility, he found himself sympathizing with this pale man.

  “A [Mage] is on the shortlist of classes we need to round out our team.” He looked at Thea, who had visibly softened her posture.

  “I won’t veto this one,” she said grudgingly.

  “What about you, Nyhm?”

  Nyhm stared at Tolliver for a long moment. The [Mage] looked like he was waiting for a blow to land. The expression of the last kid to be picked for a game, knowing what was coming and determined not to show how much it hurt.

  “I don’t object,” Nyhm said at last.

  Tolliver’s eyes grew wide as the expected blow didn’t land. He recovered quickly and gave them a slight smile.

  “I am grateful for your trust. I am confident you will find me a valuable addition to the team. Do we presently have a departure schedule?”

  He seemed almost as eager as Raith to leave.

  “We’re meeting tomorrow to discuss the specifics, but I’m thinking within the next few days, if possible.”

  Thea raised an eyebrow at that, but held her tongue. Tolliver nodded.

  “That suits me quite well. There is much to do to prepare. What time tomorrow?”

  Raith knew Thea hated getting up early, otherwise he would try to round everyone up at sunrise.

  “Here at ten?”

  They all agreed that would work, and Tolliver left the three alone again. Everyone sat with their own thoughts for a bit before Thea spoke.

  “We never asked what he can actually do. What spells he knows. Nothing.”

  Raith laughed ruefully and shook his head.

  “We’re terrible at this. I’ll make sure we ask the next one.”

  “We have our fourth. Do we want a next one?” Nyhm asked.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “I’d like to see if that [Archer] shows up. That or a [Healer] would be worth waiting for if they seem like a good fit.”

  “Aye,” Thea agreed. “Just not the Maeve worshipper.”

  The rest of their time passed with three other prospects, none of whom they wanted to bring on board. Raith was disappointed in missing an [Archer], but they could always pick one up down the road.

  “I need to go see Senora. I’ll get the team officially registered and then explain that other stuff”

  “You mean the stuff where you introduced her daughter to a traveling player’s troupe that she intends to run off with?”

  Thea smiled wickedly.

  “Yeah.” Raith said glumly. “That stuff.”

  “I’ll have a drink waiting for you if you make it out alive. Me and Nyhm are going to go meet those Wolverines in the meantime.”

  Nyhm looked up sharply, alarmed at being volunteered for a social activity.

  “I have some things to get ready.”

  “You’ve got nothing to prepare the rest of us don’t have, too. You heard that gnome. It’s important to get to know other adventurers. Come on then.”

  “Alright, just let me finish my drink.”

  ***

  Thea stood and waited patiently while Nyhm finished his drink in suspiciously small sips. She knew perfectly well he was just trying to delay talking to people, but she wasn’t going to let this slide. The elfling needed to come out of his shell a little and she wasn’t taking no for an answer. While the two of them may not be nearly as close as they were with Raith, Nyhm knew her well enough not to try to outstubborn the satyr when she set her mind to something.

  Raith headed out for his meeting with Senora like he was headed to an executioner’s axe. Maybe he was, and it would serve him right. A man who literally had all the time in the world to think through his actions and still pulled this sort of nonsense.

  She still stung a little that he waited so long to trust her with his secret, but his reticence was understandable. It must have been terrifying to grow up thinking men could come in the dark of night to tear you away from your family at any moment.

  Thea frowned as Nyhm took another small sip of his ale. She fondled one of the seeds in her belt pouch, gently nudging the small spark of life within, and considered growing a thorny vine under his ass to hurry him up.

  “Chug the rest. I’ll buy you a new one.”

  Looking defeated, he knocked the drink back and stood to follow. As they reached the door to the barroom, Thea heard Sal’s raised voice from the corner.

  “That’s them right there.”

  She tensed, assuming this was going to be another weird situation that was probably Raith’s fault. Looking over, a tall, fit man with long black hair was talking to the old attendant. He wore a fine suit of scale armor with leather articulated joints. A short sword sat on his hip, but he had no other obvious weaponry. He looked behind them in Sal’s direction and put on an easy smile that was hard not to return.

  “Am I too late?” he asked.

  She glanced at Nyhm, who shrugged. The little fucker was going to be no help at all. Thea looked back at the armored man, and didn’t think another close-in fighter was what the team needed.

  “What’s your class?”

  “[Ranger].” He pointed at the message board. “I had the request you responded to.”

  “Aren’t you a bit shiny for a that class?”

  Here came that easy smile again, and Thea found herself smiling back. She looked over, and even Nyhm had a barely perceptible upturn to his mouth. It wasn’t that the guy was attractive, although there was a bit of that. He just projected an air of casualness that made him feel familiar.

  “An archer's biggest drawback is usually defense, so I wove the [Armor Augmenter] class to compensate. Offers [Skills] to let me keep my mobility along with the defensive advantages.”

  He did a little leaping twirl to demonstrate said mobility, which she had to admit was impressive.

  “I’m Silas, by the way.”

  “Alright Silas. Your interview will be over a few beers while we sit with Wendell’s Wolverines over there. I’ll grab the first round.”

  That turned out to be the last round she would have to buy for the night. The Wolverines were generous with their coin, especially as they got further into their cups, and Silas had just gotten back from a big dungeon score.

  “Which dungeon?” Sonnet and the rest of her team were suddenly very interested in Silas.

  “Mirn near the Great Rift.”

  Everyone nodded, but Thea hadn’t heard of it. She didn’t let the shudder she felt reach her face. The mere thought of being deep beneath the earth in the cold, dark ruins of the gods made her want to step outside and take a breath of fresh air. The dwarves can have that shit. She’ll take the woods and maybe a nice challenging tower, thank you very much.

  “Which one is that?” Thea hoped none of the dread seeped into her voice.

  Sonnet fielded the answer.

  “The first entrance was found a few hundred years ago after an earthquake. The King sent a team in to claim the core, but only the outskirts of the sunken city have really been explored.”

  The gods had powered their cities with great aethercores that remained behind, keeping defenses and guardians active even millena later. Each core was a mythical relic, repurposed by those modern cities who could acquire one to power their own defenses. Beckhaven supposedly had two, and Dunhall four. Most cites had none.

  “So far it looks high risk, low reward. Even with the core gone, there are a lot of nasty traps and golems as you get towards the giant districts in the center. One last ‘fuck you’ from the gods before their imprisonment. They recommend a team be at least gold rank before taking a shot at it.”

  “You seem a bit green to be on a gold rank team,” Wendell said. “No offense.” The man was a [Fencer] but didn’t look the part with his shaggy bearded face and short, wide body. Thea thought he may be a half-dwarf, but it would be rude to ask.

  Silas was unperturbed by the question.

  “None taken, and you’re right. I’m only second braid, about to hit third. My team was silver ranked, but we got ahold of a map to the section we explored and it really paid off. We made it to a treasure room with almost no fighting, and zero causalities.”

  “Where is your team now?” Nyhm asked.

  “Everyone started fighting over how to divide up the loot.”

  All the Wolverines nodded sagely.

  “Seen many a good team fall apart over apportioning the treasure,” Wendell said. He looked over at Thea and Nyhm. “Best to decide that stuff well in advanced, is my advice to you.”

  “I was lucky to be the only archer. Got these,” he patted the ornate leather bracers he wore on each forearm, “and a share of the gold. Told them they could keep the rest.” Silas got a far off look in his eyes and frowned. “Looked like they were about to spill blood over it before I left. Hope they got everything sorted out. It was a good crew right up till the end there.”

  Thea leaned forwards to peer at the magical items on his forearms. The scroll work in the leather looked to be of elven make.

  “What do the bracers do?”

  Silas’ eyes lit up and his face split into a huge grin.

  “Check this out.”

  He stood up and took a step back from the table. Reaching forward with his left arm, a beautiful longbow appeared in hand. A moment later, an arrow appeared in his right, which he smoothly knocked and aimed at the ceiling. With a wink towards the table, he flourished his arms as both bow and arrow disappeared.

  “The left one stores my bow, and the right serves as a quiver.”

  Murmurs of appreciation came from around the table. Sonnet scooted her chair to sit next to him.

  “Are you interested in a trade?”

  He was not, but the [Gizmoteer] wasn’t going to give up that easily. Their discussion devolved into a series of increasingly outlandish offers while Silas stood his ground.

  Thea looked over to find Nyhm actually talking to Wendell about group versus single monster fighting tactics. She smiled, relieved that he was thawing out a little, even it was only to discuss how to kill better. One of these days, he’d figure out he had more to offer than punching things, but it would take some convincing.

  A hand landed on her shoulder, and she turned around, expecting to see Raith. The quip she had prepared froze on her lips as she saw it was a tall [Warrior] with close cropped brown hair who she had noticed at another table earlier. He leered down at her with a drunken smile.

  “Hey there, fauny. My room’s upshtairs.” He threw her a wink, and the smile widened.

  Being taken so completely off guard by the explosion of anger is the only thing that stopped her immediately from pounding this man within an inch of his life. Too many assholes assumed that being a satyr implied she was some sort of free lay.

  Thea wasn’t sure what expression she wore on her face as she tried to find the words to reduce this man to a sniveling wreck, but it caused the Wolverine’s [Rogue] to break off from her conversation. The waifish human woman who might be mistaken for a young boy grabbed the man roughly and pulled him a step away from the table, then down to whisper something in his ear.

  Whatever it was, the [Warrior] blanched and quickly nodded. He looked over at Thea and mumbled something that sounded like ‘Sorry, mish’ before retreating back to his table. She was about to yell at the [Rogue] for denying her the opportunity to let out her anger on that deserving asshole, but didn’t want to make a scene. She took a deep breath to calm herself and leveled a glare.

  “You didn’t have to do that. I could have handled it.”

  The woman resumed her seat and gave a solemn nod.

  “Oh, I’ve no doubt of that. I just got a full beer and didn’t want it spilled while you knocked all that man’s teeth out.”

  She smiled, and Thea found her anger draining off enough to return it. It was good she’d held her temper in check and not lashed out at this woman who was only trying to help.

  “I prefer to fight my own battles, but thank you just the same.”

  She waved off the thanks. Thea couldn’t remember her name and was embarrassed to ask. The woman saw the problem.

  “Darlene Pembroke. But you can call me Del. How did the interviews go?”

  “Thanks again, Del. The interviews went fine, I suppose. We got a strange lot this time, but it seems to have turned out all right.” She nodded towards Silas, who was good-naturedly fending off Sonnet.

  “That’s because adventurers are a strange lot. You’ll never get anything else. Probably only a hundred active adventurers in this whole wide city. Most folks want a safe, quiet life filled with soft beds and a pascel of children underfoot. It’s only the strangest sort of person who goes out there to bleed for levels and glory.” She took a long drink, emptying out her mug and stood up. “Next round is on me.”

  As Thea leaned back and took a long pull from her ale, she sighed contentedly. These were good people, they had a good team, and she felt hopeful. For a while there she’d been afraid Raith would never sort himself out, but now the future was adventure and levels as far as the eye could see. And when the time was right, she’d talk them into braving the Fae Wilds, where she could finally reconnect with her ancestors after dreaming about it for so long.

  ***

  Raith’s ears were still burning from Senora’s ass chewing when he rejoined his team. Without saying a word, Thea set a shot of whiskey in front of him, which burned his throat as he threw it back. He rubbed his face with both hands.

  “Meet Slias. Our new [Ranger],” Thea said cheerily.

  He peeked out from between his fingers to see the man raise a glass towards him and nod. Glancing back at Thea, she smiled encouragingly, and he decided he didn’t have the energy to question the new addition right now. Raith picked up another shot of whiskey, raised it in return, and tossed it back.

  “Does it seem like everything is always a lot harder than it needs to be?”

  Nyhm and Thea met each other’s gaze and then burst out laughing.

  “Why is that funny?”

  Nyhm’s expression sobered a bit, but still looked faintly amused.

  "That's just life, little brother."

  Raith blinked. That didn’t seem fair. They all walked around seeming so competent, while he felt like a raccoon in a library: confused, panicked, and possibly about to cause a scene.

  “At least as adventurer’s all the struggles earn levels,” Thea offered, patting his arm. She raised her glass.

  “Delve every dungeon, climb every tower.”

  Raith smiled, and everyone at the table clinked mugs as they said the refrain.

  “Grind out those levels, ‘cause levels are power.”

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