《Rob and Jason Tour the Grand Tapestry [DROPPED]》


 Writethon Day 1

    There were times a man had to stop and take stock of what he had. Looking up at the ten meter tall walls of the Free City of Lotrot (pronounced Low Trot, unless one wanted to stir up the locals), Roberto Garcias thought this might be a good time to consider the state of their funds.


    "Looks like a long line waiting to get into the city," Jason said from beside him.


    Guardsman Wayne, a hulking bear kin among their escort, said cheerfully, "No need to twist your tail over it. We get to slip in at the front."


    "Our horses aren''t going to cause a problem, do you think?" Rob asked, remembering the reaction which the Lotrot military liaison to the Studio of Capricious Dreams had displayed on seeing them for the first time.


    The bear kin shrugged. "Your wolf''s more likely to stir things up. Some people might think nightmares, but those are rare enough around here that most would think they''re some kind of dungeon asses, and the tribesmen use the wild ones around here often enough. The fact that you''re all with us will keep people from panicking, and if you get him and your kitteagles nice ostentatious collars soon enough, well, you''ll be getting offers to buy them."


    Another guardsman, this one a gray scaled arassas, said, "Please don''t. Sell them in Lotrot, that is. Don''t want to have to come find you lot for tax evasion."


    "Yeah, that''s not what we''re wanting, either," Rob said. "So, what kind of paperwork do we need to fill out while we''re here?"


    "No need to twist your tail. We''ll walk you through it all. You do have a kop a piece for the entry fee, right?" Wayne asked.


    Rob fished into a hidden pocket on his pack''s belly strap, finding the coins Lena had promised him. He pulled out the string, finding shining bronze and copper bits, along with some tarnished nickel coins and a small number of silvers on his money string.


    Wayne nodded. "Respectable walking money. You know the currency, right?"


    Rob fingered the nickel coins. "These are the kops, right? And the bronzes are bits, the coppers tails, and the silvers are nobs, right?"


    "Yep. You''ll need to hand over a single kop piece for each of you. And when you get to the Splendid Tail, remember to tell Bardell that Wayne sent you."


    The paperwork was rather fast, a record of their names and species, noting down their intended inn and stay length. In return, Rob and Jason received pendents on twine as their visas into the city state of Lotrot.


    Wayne went over the directions to the Splendid Tail once more before happily waving them along their way.


    They kept silent for the first few minutes spent threading their way through the crowds. After a month and a half spent mostly inside Lena''s dungeon, the Studio of Capricious Dreams, the press of bodies felt a little overwhelming. At least on the military level of the Studio, there was a sense of order and the familiar organization behind the apparent chaos. In the city, not so much.


    "Damn, Jace, you''re right. This is like some of the older parts of Germany. Much more modern than I would have thought, given the swords and spears weapons tech," Rob commented, taking in the cobbled streets, brick and wood structures, and light posts crowned with mana gems. There were wagons, but they were pulled by donkeys and sometimes something that looked like a feathered ox.


    Jason shrugged. Rob could understand the mood his friend was in and let it go. The fight between Jason and Lena had gotten serious enough for her to invite him to leave, and had been building for long enough she had even made provisions for the departure. Like their horses, gear, and even the coins in their pockets. Oh, and the magical contract binding them to Lena''s dungeon. She had put that together on her own, and Rob wanted a bit of time to go over what he and Jason had agreed to as they took off.


    The worst thing about it all, as far as Rob was concerned, was how frickin'' obvious it was that the pair of them loved each other, even if Jason hadn''t worked up the nerve to ask Lena on a date before the *event* that transported them from Earth to Rhofhir''s Grand Tapestry. The whole Lena turning into an actual Dungeon Master and being disembodied in the process hadn''t helped with advancing the romance there, but had engaged just about every protective instinct Jason held. Those instinct were already weird, thanks to Momma Kline.


    Rob set aside thoughts about interfering in Jason''s love life for the moment and focused on their surroundings. More aptly, he focused on the *people* surrounding them.


    About half of the pedestrians were arassi. Once Candy had pointed out how much they looked like anthropomorphic raptors, Rob couldn''t unsee the similarities, especially because it annoyed his little brother Aaron. According to Aaron, the arassi were more mammal than reptile, even if they blurred the line by being warm blooded, milk-providing egg layers. They just really didn''t look like mammals, especially when their scale rippled with their emotions, or just to let off the faint steam of their sweat during physical exertion.


    The easy tells for spotting the difference between male and female arassi came down to the breadth of their chests, thickness of their tails, and depth of their voices. Females were more slender in build and had ground shaking bass voices while the males had builds meant more for brawling and a vocal range closer to human male. Rob did note there were a few nursing mothers walking together, babies in slings held close to their chests. Jason had relayed the questions Kargerran''s squad had asked him on his initial venture to the city, about why Candy and Lena had "engorged mammaries", but if the nursing mothers even had breasts worth speaking of, Rob couldn''t tell.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    Unlike the military and City Watch, however, the civilians dyed their scales in all hues of the color spectrum, though most seemed to prefer jewel tones. Black dye with washes of rank colors overlaying were reserved for the military, and the City Watch reserved shades of gray for their visual identifiers. That, according to Kargerran, was part of some kind of treaty between the Free Cities. Most arassi, he had told them, preferred to wear their house colors on their scales and city clothes.


    The color restrictions also applied to armor, mainly because of the beast-kin enlisted in the various city state armies. Unlike scales and clothing, though, few civilians took the trouble to color their armor. That likely had to do with how most civilians didn''t own armor unless they were members of the Adventurers Guild.


    Beast kin made up the next largest population chunk in Lotrot. The ''kin were predominantly bears, wolves, and foxes, with a smattering of cat kin and the odd family of some other creature type. Rob still wasn''t clear what made a lupine different from a wolf kin, but there was that layer of complexity with their species typing going on, too. Bear kin seemed to be either the most prevalent or the most politically powerful of the beast kin, at least judging by the presence among the military and political people Rob had seen over at the Studio.


    Rob had to admit to harboring an appreciation for anime cat-girls, which led him to a mild sense of disappointment on discovering that cat-kin, like the arassi and most other beast kin, were flat chested unless they were nursing babies. On the bright side, elves might be slim in the chest department, but they did still have recognizable breasts, and passed that feature on to their half-blooded children.


    Thinking of elves, Rob stroked the edge of his own newly elongated ear. He hadn''t even seen the blow that crushed his chest so viciously his contract with Lena''s dungeon had kicked in and re-made him according to the patterns that they had acquired at that point. Human hadn''t been one of them. Rob had mixed feelings about his remaking. On one hand, he was an elf now. How cool was that? On the other, the only reason the Studio had the pattern for elves was because some shifty elf bastard had gotten caught sneaking their way over to attempt to extort Lena into giving up her Dungeon Master status.


    They hadn''t killed the bastard. The parandrous tribesmen that quickly set up camp near the Lotrot dungeon entrance did that, and then, following their religious beliefs, dumped the bodies in the dungeon for karmic recycling. That was, in fact, how they acquired all of their Aware patterns with the exception of the human one. Rob''s healing had given them that.


    Parandrians were another oddity. They weren''t beast-kin, but they did look like a cross between a deer and bear that decided to walk upright and grow fingers.


    Rob didn''t see any of the tribesmen in the city, nor did he expect to. The killing hadn''t stopped, mainly because the idiots looking to raid Lena''s dungeon hadn''t stopped coming. While the city had to acknowledge that the tribesmen were abiding by the various treaties existing between the two groups, no one liked the reminder of how many idiots were willing to violate the tribesmen''s territorial rights on their way to usurp Lena''s control over the Studio of Capricious Dreams, and the money maker they perceived it to be.


    <hr>


    Despite their distractions, Jason and Rob made it to the Splendid Tail. The directions weren''t exactly hard to follow. Stay on the North Gate street until they crossed under the portcullis of a gate on the inner wall. They would know it by the multitudes of bronze heads mounted to the stone wall. The gateway was known to the locals as the Usurpers'' Arch. The inn would be on the East side of the street with a sign made to look like a fox curled up behind a bushy tail.


    Guardsman Wayne had mentioned it might be a touch on the expensive side for lodgings, but the inn was a favorite with the city watch, and they could rely on the innkeeper to knock what heads needed knocking to keep out thieves and cut throats.


    From the outside, the inn looked to take up a sizable lot, fifteen meters across the front and maybe a little less in height. Judging by the windows, there should be two floors and maybe an attic.


    Jason stayed outside with the beasts while Rob ducked in to see what arrangements they might need for their companion critters.


    Inside, several bench tables took up most of the floor space. A good sized stage dominated the front left corner (currently empty), and a long bar ran the width of the room at the back of the common room. Rob estimated the bar sat ten meters back from the entrance, and noted there was plenty of room for multiple bartenders behind the counter. A door in the far wall made it a safe bet that the building when further back, and a broad staircase in the far left corner led up. A fireplace with some comfortably worn armchairs surrounding it divided the stage and the stairs.


    Behind the bar, a big bellied fox kin polished the bar while carrying on a conversation with a pair of gray-scaled arassi wearing loose fitting trousers and flouncy shirts that made Rob think of pirates. The fox kin looked up as they entered. His smile seemed to freeze on spotting Rob, but only for a moment.


    "Ho, there, what can I do for you?" he called out in greeting, stopping in his polishing.


    Rob smiled. "So, Guardsmen Wayne said we''d find good food and secure accommodations with Bardell of the Splendid Tail. We in the right place?"


    The fox kin blinked, and some of the stiffness left his posture. "You are indeed. I''m Bardell. Come on in and let''s discuss what you need."


    Rob ran his hand over the back of his head. "Well, first, we need a place to settle our critters. Two horses, kitteagles, and a shadow wolf."


    That got the two off duty guardsmen to turn around and stare at him. Bardell smiled. "I never heard of a horse, but the kitteagles and the wolf can stay in your room with you if they''re trained and restrained. It''ll add a kop a night to your stay, though."


    "Sounds reasonable. Think big donkeys for the size and needs of the horses. Not quite as smart, though."


    Bardell shrugged. "I have an arrangement with the stable two doors down. They''ll include standard feed with the rent of the stalls, but they don''t exercise or groom the beasts."


    "Great! We''ll be right back," Rob said.


    Back on the street, he looked around. Spotting the stable wasn''t that difficult. The building sat a few meters back from road and had large double doors, currently open. A pair of young bear kin played a game with scattered sticks just to the side of the barn doors.


    Rob waved Jason to follow and took the lead of one of the horses. As they approached, one of the bear kin youths looked up, his adorable round ears flexing. He spotted Rob and Jason, said something to the other youth, and slipped inside the stable. By the time Rob crossed the street, an adult bear kin had walked out and the youths were picking up their sticks.


    Dropping Wayne and Bardell''s names seemed to make the bear kin happier. He introduced himself as Kathel, and they easily settled on a kop per horse per night.

 Writeathon Day 2

    Back at the inn, this time with Jason, the wolf, and the two kitteagles in tow, Rob led the way to the bar. Bardell''s eyes rounded comically on spotting the shadow wolf.


    "That''s not just any wolf, now is it?" the fox kin said, his fur all puffed out. The guardsmen at the bar also displayed lifted scales and a preternatural stillness.


    Rob couldn''t exactly blame them for that. Their wolf companion was more properly known as an Advanced Armored Shadow Wolf. When standing, his shoulders came up to Jason''s biceps. Nature, or magic, or whatever made monsters, really, had given the wolf exoskeletal armor plates along his neck and flanks, and over his face. They were dull at the moment, but when he got worked up, they would glow with a dull red light, or emit a light-soaking darkness when he wanted to be sneaky. Thick, dark gray fur escaped from around the plates, and a ridge of thumb-length spikes protected his spine. The wolf let his tongue loll out of his opened mouth, revealing ivory fangs floating against the dark gray pigmentation of his lips, gums, and tongue.


    Even with his ears perked, calm curiosity in his gaze, and a faint wag to his tail, the wolf looked dangerous.


    Jason sighed. "Sit," he told their wolf. The wolf sat. "Down." The wolf lay down. "Belly rubs," Jason said, and the wolf eagerly rolled over, almost squirming with excitement. Jason barely needed to squat to reach the wolf''s belly, and the sheer joy radiating from their companion brought an indulgent grin to Rob''s face.


    Bardell''s fur settled, but slowly. "Well enough, I see. Your tamer''s got your beasties well in hand. Are those spikes scratching up my floor?"


    Jason stopped the belly rubs and said, "Sit." With a mournful look, the wolf rolled back over and sat. The spikes along his spine lay down flat to the point that if you didn''t know to look for them you wouldn''t guess they existed. The floor looked no worse for wear.


    While not looking completely at ease, Bardell had at least sunk back into a pleasant professional demeanor. "You said you''re looking for a place to sleep. How long, and how many rooms? I have singles, doubles, and a family room ready. With the wolf, you''ll have to take at least one single as I''ll not have him in the common loft."


    "What''s the difference between a double and a family room?" Jason asked.


    "Two single beds or a single wide bed and more floor space."


    Rob laughed. He tapped his fists to his chest and said, "I love ya, man, Jason, but not like that." Turning back to Bardell, he asked, "How much for a double?"


    Jason rolled his eyes and shook his head, but his lips were curling up. "Idiot," he muttered, but not low enough the whole room failed to hear him.


    Rob laughed harder.


    Bardell ignored the byplay. "With the animals, four kop per night. There''s a discount for extended stays. You can either get meals for your Aware party included or take off three bits a night if you''re staying for more than an eight-day."


    Jason said, "I''m hoping we''ll be gone before eight days, but we''ll know better in a day or two. Do you need us to sign any log books or the like?"


    "Log book? No, ah, no. I just need to record your visa imprints."


    Jason and Rob showed Bardell the pendants acting as their visas. Rob paid right then for two nights, and they followed Bardell upstairs. The double rooms overlooked the street, and Bardell gave them the second farthest from the stage corner.


    "We won''t have a musician tonight, but we will tomorrow," the innkeeper informed them as he passed over a simple key. "Only one key for each room. If you lose it, the fee for the locksmith is a tail and five kop."


    "Good to know. Thank you," Rob said.


    Bardell glanced at him askance, but said nothing as he took his leave.


    Inside, the room was three meters wide and twice that in length. There was space enough for a pair of narrow beds to line one wall with nightstands at the foot of each. The heads of the beds were in the corners, meaning the feet both pointed to the center of the room. A wardrobe gave them a place to hang any dressy clothes, and a comfortable chair took up the street-side wall corner opposite the beds. By the door, a flowering potted plant gave the room a fresh fragrance.


    Rob headed to the bed farthest from the door and dumped his bag on it. Jason set his own down on the bed nearer the door. The pair of kiteagles settled on top of the wardrobe while their wolf companion blocked off the chair by settling down in front of it. How he managed to curl his bulk into such a tight ball confounded Rob, but he didn''t care to think too hard on it.


    "We need to get these guys names," he said to Jason.


    Jason sighed. "Sure. Got any suggestions?"


    Rob eyed the shadow wolf and said, "No pero negros, no nighty-nights, star child, or other names in that vein for our wolf friend. He sure can tuck himself up into a ball though. Maybe Tucker?"


    The wolf raised his head and blew out a disparaging sound through his wide nose.


    Jason grinned, but Rob could tell his friend was embracing more of a gallows humor than actual amusement. "Nah. What was that book series you wanted me to read, with the mechanic that turned into coyote?"


    "Mercy Thompson by Patricia Briggs," Rob said, wondering where Jason was going.


    "That''s the one. There were werewolves in it, right? Why not just name him after one of them?"


    Rob shrugged and turned to study their wolf with an eye to lining up characters. "Hm. If you were more of a cinnamon color, I''d probably go for naming you Charles, but I think Adam was a dark colored wolf, and he was the pack leader nearest Mercy. You''re definitely not up to Bran level though. Nope, no Marrock for you."


    The wolf''s ears perked up and his tail thumped the floor with eagerness. He arou-ed and made a questioning sound.


    "Adam works for me," Jason chimed in. Facing the wolf, he asked, "How about it? You good to get called Adam?"Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    Adam nodded, grinning his canine grin.


    Jason and Rob turned to study the two kitteagles. Rob sighed. "I don''t remember reading any books with griffin heroes. Do you?"


    Jason shook his head in denial. "Nope. Thunder and Lightning?"


    "Penny and Royal?" Rob shot back.


    "What?" Jason asked, his confusion obvious.


    Rob held up his hands in a "so what" gesture. "I thought we were coming up with twin names. They''re a boy and a girl, right? I guess we could call the boy Thor, but I''m not keen on Helga for the girl and I can''t think of any other matching girl names."


    Jason looked at the kitteagles again. He frowned. "I spent a tour over in the sandbox before we met up. Got interested in the myths and some of the stories over there. Did you know that griffins first showed up in the historical records over in the area of modern Iran? I came across this poem over there, epically long, like the Iliad or the Odyssey out of Greece. It''s called the Shahnameh, and one of the big heroes in there is a dude named Rostem who marries this chick Tahmineh. If we''re going to be naming them out of stories, what do you think about those for names?"


    "Eh. Works for me. What about the horses? Seeing as we''re getting the naming taken care of and all."


    Jason just shrugged. "Sure, I guess. Mocha and Coco?"


    Rob blinked. "Which one is which?"


    "Mocha could be the one with a white nose, and Coco the one without any spots."


    "Fair enough. So, with the names taken care of, we can dive into the packs and see what goodies Lena put in our Handy Haversacks." Pausing only as long as it took to rub his palms together with greedy glee, Rob dumped out his pack.


    Cloth spilled out, and some leather pieces, along with an assortment of bronze and steel tools. Sorting through the gear, Rob identified: a bedroll and two extra blankets, tarp for a tent, bronze pitons that might be meant as tent stakes, a coil of thin rope, two travel journals, five of Lena''s most recent versions of pens, a collapsible hooded lantern, several labeled flasks, two good sized waterskins with pull-plug spouts, a spice kit, a light net, a suspiciously tingly bag he set aside for the moment, a compass, crowbar, bronze mess kit, collapsible pole, two spools of fishing line, a wooden box holding fishing accoutrement, a fairly substantial wooden box of matches, a grooming kit in a leather bag, a tool kit in a leather wrap, playing cards, and a generous set of polyhedral dice.


    Six of the flasks were labeled "lamp oil", and another two were for cooking. One was "oil of breath bane" and the other "pepper oil". The spice kit held bags of powdered spices, each neatly labeled. In the mess kit, Lena had provided a plate just slightly smaller than Rob''s spread hand, a spoon, fork, chopsticks, handle-less cup, and a bowl about twice the size of the cup. The rope felt pretty sturdy, and Rob guessed there to be about twenty meters of it in the coil. Rob appreciated the grooming kit: small scissors for trimming beards, a straight razor with whet stone, shaving soap with brush, and a wood-scented body soap.


    Various bits of feathers, weights, and hooks filled the wooden fishing tackle box. The collapsible pole didn''t look like it was meant for fishing, however. It was made from steel and extended out just shy of four meters. A joke from one of their gaming sessions flashed through Rob''s mind: "Carry an eleven foot pole, because there are things you wouldn''t want to touch with a ten foot pole."


    With a glance, Rob saw Jason making a similar study of the equipment in his bag. The expression on Jason''s face made Rob return his attention to his own gear.


    <hr>


    Jason carefully went through the well packed bag. Each item would be useful and demonstrated the forethought Lena had put into preparing the bags.


    He didn''t know how to feel about that.


    Had Lena been planning on kicking him out? Was the fight today just the excuse she needed? Or was there something else going on, plans that he hadn''t been part of, like so much of what had been happening in the Studio?


    Did he dare ask?


    Did he dare *not* ask?


    He opened the first of the pair of journals to flip through the pages. A folded stack of papers greeted his gaze, nestled between cover and pages. He set the book down and picked up the folded stack. He unfolded the pages.


    Lena''s handwriting covered the papers.


    Dear Jason,


    If you''re reading this, our logger heading has reached some critical blowout. I don''t know for sure how you ended up taking the Walk-About contract, and I hope we had a chance to go over the pertinent points, but in case not, I''m going to spell the biggest deal out:


    Knowing you, I cannot imagine you doing something that would leave me utterly unwilling to ever see you again. You *can* come back to the Studio, and I hope you choose to return.


    Related: if you''re leaving because of a fight we had, please give me a bit of time to cool off, and for you to get some distance and start *thinking* about our fights.


    At the time I''m writing this letter, I''m seeing you trying to be everywhere and be part of everything. There''s too much going on for that, and it''s coming across as you not trusting the rest of us, and me especially, to keep up.


    You ended up as our diplomat in a rather unfair way, and I get that. It sucks to be defaulted into a role because no one else is in a position to step up, and, frankly, I kept waiting for Rob to take up some of the slack as our face to the rest of the world. Then I saw how impulsive he can be and realized that you really did get stuck as our speaker. Candy''s too happy to be "an engineer, not a bleeping diplomat" and both you and Rob are too protective of Aaron to give him a chance to step up with the complete unknown of our new neighbors. Brad has only just been reunited with us, and he''s got that fruiting ensorcelled slavery thing going on.


    But, you''re not really a diplomat, are you? You''re the guy who likes people, but doesn''t like to talk, who watches and never wants to be center stage. It''s been just about everything you never wanted to deal with, and worse, you''ve been caged up in my zone, my dungeon, with the rest of us when there''s a whole world out there, full of new experiences and new people to see.


    So, I''m hoping Rob''s going along with you to watch your back. Even if he isn''t, I''m sending along some of the creatures contracted with my zone. They don''t have to share a campsite with you if you don''t want, but they are going to guarding your back.


    So, yeah, I think you need to get out and explore a bit, and I''ve made preparations for that. I want you around, but I want you happier more. The Walk-About contract will let you keep in touch with us, and the soul gem will mean you get the contract healing without having to be in the dungeon zone, and it will let us know that you''re still alive.


    I don''t know if you''ll believe me when I say this, but,


    I''m wishing for the best for you,


    Lena.


    P.S. Candy and I have figured out how to make spatial bags. There should be one in the pack I''m putting together for you. They aren''t actually like bags of holding or anything like that. They''re more like portable portals to this squeezed space, this firmament stuff, here in the Studio. It''s not easy, but I can move stuff in and out of the squeezed space. The bag makes it a lot easier, but you may find yourself using mana points when you swap things around in the bag. Dibbs says the Arcane Asylum uses a similar concept when they make spatial rings and chests.


    We are still working on rings, and Dibbs warned that putting spatial enchantments inside other spatial enchantments can destabilize them, so you may need to come back to pick up a ring if we ever get it working.

 Write-a-thon Day 3

    Rob watched Jason reading through the letter and wondered at the contents. By the second page, the corners of Jason''s mouth were bracketed with white lines and he looked ready to punch someone.


    When he finished, some of the anger was at least off his face, but Jason didn''t look any better for it. "Do you need me to bug out and give you some space?" Rob asked.


    "I don''t fuckin'' understand women. I just fuckin'' don''t," Jason said, his Southern drawl sounding weird to Rob''s ear at the speed he was spitting out his words.


    "Yeah, they''re a mystery," Rob agreed, careful to avoid the body language that would make him seem like a good punching bag. Rob might be handling spear work better than Jason, but in a brawl, Jason hit harder, faster, and meaner.


    Jason glanced over at Rob and the anger boiling off him rose a notch even as Jason rolled his eyes. "I''m not looking for a fight. You don''t have to act like I''m a fuckin'' abusive bastard."


    Rob shrugged and turned to face Jason full on. "Not saying you are. Not thinking it, either. I do have cousins that swing to let off steam, though. So, what''s causing the powder keg?"


    Jason methodically began stretching his muscles in an obvious attempt to pull out the tension of his emotions. "Lena wrote that me trying to stay informed about what''s going on with everyone is the same as pissing my name on her shit."


    Rob blinked. "Really? She said *that*? *Our* Lena?"


    Jason tossed the letter at Rob. "Read it yourself."


    Rob did so. Then he read it again. He frowned and flipped the pages over, looking for hidden ink. "I think you''re focusing in on the wrong things here, Jace. What I''m picking out is that she needs cool off time from the way you guys have been butting heads. Keep in mind that she cannot get up and walk away. She''s told us a few times that she has to work to give us privacy when we''re in the Studio. Just because she''s gotten pretty good at being quiet in the corner doesn''t mean she isn''t always stuck in the corner.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    "On top of that, she''s not wrong. You have been our guy on point for the serious talks, and that''s not where you shine. It hasn''t come out as much in our game sessions, but you''re probably our best strategist. You also have a bit of a white knight complex, swoop in and save the damsel. It''s not a bad thing. You just need enough social graces so you''re not stomping on yon damsel''s toes when you''re stepping up to throw your coat over mud puddles for her."


    Jason''s jaw jutted forward. "So I''ve been pissing in her Cheerios is what you''re saying."


    Rob thought a moment. "Yeah, a little. We''ve all been scrambling to figure shit out, and you and me, we have our training to fall back on. They never enlisted. They don''t understand a lot of the stuff that''s become second nature to us."


    "Fuck," Jason said, scowling harder. "And now they don''t have us. We can''t be there to defend them."


    Rob snorted and flopped back on to the only clear spot on the bed. "Eh, for what it''s worth, when you came up with that cover story for Ignemrot, that we''re fact checking the world outside the Studio, that is something they need us to do, and fuck if I''ll volunteer Aaron for that."


    Candy wasn''t even an option. If she had been willing to step out of the dungeon, which Rob doubted, none of the original Studio crew would have let her go with less than the full crew beside her. Her mind just didn''t work like a normal person''s. Rob wasn''t sure she was fully competent to handle her life in California, where she stayed in her fairly safe, middle class white girl bubble. On Rhofhir, where there were monsters just waiting to eat you? Rob could see the catastrophe waiting to happen there.


    Tahmina glided from the wardrobe to the bed beside Rob and began rubbing her head against his hands.


    Jason retreated into his own thoughts, and Rob left him to it. After spending a few minutes discovering the kitteagles were as affectionate as house cats, Rob got back up and repacked his gear bag, leaving out what he suspected was the spatial bag and setting the letter from Lena to Jason on the nightstand at the foot of his bed.


    <hr>


    Rob and Jason had arrived in Lotrot in the afternoon. Checking out their kit and repacking it, along with some meditation time for the pair of them took long enough that they began to hear the sounds of a crowd gathering downstairs. Leaving the critters in their room, the duo went downstairs.


    Conversations didn''t exactly stop at their appearance, but the crowd in the room noticing them didn''t take any pains to hide their wariness. They found seats at an open table nearer the stage, ate, and then headed off to bed. They could deal with finding guides and guards in the morning.

 Write-a-thon Day 4

    The morning dawned, bright and clear and not nearly soon enough for Rob. The whole elf physiology thing had turned him into a hyper night owl, and he only had so much concentration to spend meditating and working on his [Design of Cultivation]. Boredom led to him doing push ups in the room while trying to cycle his mana.


    It wasn''t until he sat back afterward, feeling pleasantly refreshed by the physical activity and enjoying the trickle of light from the newly started day, that he realized he didn''t know what the bathing customs in Lotrot were. At the Studio, Lena had built up a decadent shower and hot springs set up for staying clean. Here? He didn''t know if they even used water or just cast [Cleanse] spells or something like that.


    While there seemed to be a decent water table under the steppe like lands surrounding Lotrot, at least judging by number of wells Rob had spotted on their way through the city, he had yet to spot a river. He wasn''t sure if there were any in the area. In a world of magic, where the Mana Wastes defined the edge of the world as the world literally built itself out into the Primal Chaos, who was to say that rivers were as necessary to civilizations as they had been on Earth?


    Rob pulled out one of the blank journals from his pack and a pen. He happily noted that Lena had gotten the ink consistency a lot closer to his favorite ballpoints. He skipped a page and titled the next one "Rhofhir Whatsits". Then started writing down his questions.


    Half an hour later, with Jason still snoring out sounds reminiscent of a lumber mill, Rob set both journal and pen down on the night stand and stretched. The action caused a stronger whiff of his body odor to stir up to his nose.


    To be honest, Rob didn''t find his new sweat stench all that unpleasant, but he already missed soaking in the Studio''s hot springs.


    Thinking of Lena''s bathing room reminded Rob that she had set up open face lockers with a [Cleanse] field. He wore a deployable [Force Shield] that had been one of Aaron and Candy''s first successes at making enchanted gear. He wondered what goodies were in the spatial bag.


    Rob retrieved the bag and opened it. That simple act caused an info packet to get pushed to him over the Guardian Communication Channel, the G.C. as the crew had come to call it. The info packet contained an inventory of the items linked to his spatial bag. He grinned and retrieved the gear piece listed as a Camp Cleanser.


    He pulled out a flattened hoop of bronze metal with a diameter of one meter. The rim of the hoop was a disk half a centimeter thick with rounded edges. It lay two centimeters wide, adorned with beautiful engravings filled with Lena''s ever present mana crystals. These were colored a translucent yellow.


    Practicing his [Analyze] spell got him a blue box.


    ???????????


    Camp Cleanser


    Composition: Bronze, Citrine


    Mana Capacity: 10


    Mana Channel: 10D


    Command Word: [Bipity-Bobbity]Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Effect: casts minor [Cleanse] spell upon item(s) within the ring of the Camp Cleanser.


    ???????????


    The 10D channel meant that the Camp Cleanser would recover ten mana per day. If it had been an S that would have meant per second, M stood for minute, and H for hour. If it didn''t soak up at least one mana per day then it wasn''t a mana crystal.


    Basically, they had ten charges, and if they spaced out the usage by a little over two hours per, they could run the cleanser indefinitely. Sweet!


    Rob moved the hoop in preparation for [Cleansing] himself, but before he got it over his body, Rostem pounced.


    "No!" Rob scolded, forcibly opening the kitteagle''s talons to make it let go of the shiny ring. Rostem made a feline chirping noise and the sense of his disappointment and frustration came over the GC.


    Rob grinned, amused at his own idea, and put the Camp Cleanser back in his spatial bag. After securing that out of the way of the shenangigans he envisioned, Rob then removed the fishing tackle kit from his bag and quickly worked up a feathered cat toy.


    He did not expect Adam, who had been surprisingly quiet the whole time Rob was trying to keep from pacing the ceiling. The Advanced Armored Shadow Wolf snatched the toy from Rob''s hand, his teeth snapping down on the rope close enough to Rob''s fingers that Rob felt the moist heat of the wolf''s breath shoved out of his mouth by the closing of his jaws.


    "Hey!" Rob yelled ¡ª and it was definitely a yell, not a high pitched yip ¡ª which woke Jason.


    The expandable pole from Jason''s kit swung out, extending as Jason grabbed it out from under his pillow and swung it into a ready position. It smacked poor Tahmina into Adam''s head, the arch of the pole barely coming to a stop centimeters from Rob''s nose.


    "Wha'' the fu¡ª!?" Jason growled over the squawking and yipping of the critters.


    Rob held very still and pushed the order to do the same out to the companion creatures in their room as a thought over the GC. He waited long enough to take in a deep breath and slowly let it out, but the pole did not move. Speaking as calmly as he could, Rob asked, "Are you awake?"


    Jason blinked, seeming to come to an awareness of the situation. The pole retracted. "It''s the fucking ass end of the evening. What the hell you doing waking me up like that, man?"


    Rob relaxed; Jason''s conscious mind was in control. Rob may not have spent time in any of the hot spots, but he had served ¡ª and bunked ¡ª with a few people who had. Just because they had been Army mechanics didn''t mean they hadn''t seen more than their fair share of traumatic service. The nature of war on Earth had changed drastically over the last century, and the idea of a solid front line was a dream of the past, like chivalry and corn without GMO genes. It only took one bunk mate bloodying his nose because he stood too close when waking him up for Rob to realize the cautions they got in Basic about waking sleeping soldiers weren''t just CYOA bull hockey.


    "It''s actually the early start of the morning. Sorry for the noise. Adam here decided to try for my hand when I was waving a string for the cat birds. Guess tug-o-war is a universal game for canines to megaverse over." Rob looked around, spotting Tahmina crouched down beside Adam''s paws.


    He crouched down and began checking her over for damage. She mew-chirped piteously and favored her wing, but even as he watched, the odd bend in it straightened. Her pain saturated the GC close to her, but as she wasn''t actively blasting it through the communications channel Rob wasn''t sure if Jason even realized what he had done.


    Adopting the soothing tones Aaron always used on their pets, Rob said, "Let''s see if you can stretch that wing out, eh, Tahmina-girlie? Maybe make it easier for your contract to straighten the break. Probably hurt, I know, but a little pain now to get to a lot of no-pain later, right?"


    Jason had been stuffing his makeshift club back under his pillow, but on hearing Rob, he turned and really took in the room. "Oh, fuck! I''m sorry, Tahmina! Shit! Adam, too! What the fuck?"


    "Bad wake ups happen. Maybe don''t use the expanding pole as your bed buddy," Rob said. Getting into recriminations wouldn''t change what had happened, and Jason was going to feel enough like a heel as it was. If Rob dumped all over him, Jason would clam up with guilt for three or four times as long. By the same token, Jason wasn''t going to let Rob absolve him of responsibility for his actions, undertaken while awake or not.

 Write-a-thon Day 5

    There wasn''t much Jason could do about Tahmina''s healing wing aside from apologize profusely and flood the GC between them with his remorse. She snapped at him, her desire for him to take his remorse and back off coming back through the GC loud and clear.


    Jason backed up and looked away, shamed. Which is how his gaze swept over Adam and he saw the blood trail across the armor plating of the shadow wolf''s face originating at his swollen eye.


    "Shit!" Jason cussed. "Adam, how''d you get hurt and what can we do to help?"


    The wolf whined at him, but had no answers. He was a smart canine, but that didn''t make him into a Tapestry-recognized sapient, monstrously so or Aware. Jason dug into his gear bag, coming up with one of the waterskins and a fluffy bit of cloth that served as a wash rag. Lena made towels that felt like super plushies. The things could soak up what felt like twice their volume in water, but when dry they felt softer than the chamois he used to use to polish his truck.


    He wetted the wash rag and gently began to clean the blood off Adam''s face. Tahmina must have smacked into him, probably got a talon up that scratched his vulnerable eye.


    Even as he worked, the swelling around their wolf''s eye went down. After Jason finished wiping away the blood and crusty bits, Adam blinked his eye open. Streaks of red from the lingering damage faded while the wolf rubbed at Jason''s hands for more of that sweet, sweet itch relief.


    Gave Adam the attention the wolf demanded, knowing that he was getting off light with the wolf''s desire for affection as recompense for the harm he had done, even it was because they startled him out of sleep.


    Jason firmly pushed back on the memories of other startled wake ups his brother or his mother''s latest boyfriends had subjected him to. That crap was in his past and that''s where it needed to stay.


    <hr>


    There was no going back to bed for Jason, so after doing all he could for the creatures, Jason got dressed. Rob showed him the Camp Cleaner toy their resident tinkerers had cobbled together, and he used it to get cleaned up before putting on his clothes. Lena had included their personal possessions, which hadn''t been that much. Rob had managed his usual imitation of a pack rat a little better than Jason, but not by much.


    For Jason, the personal stuff came down to a journal, a few knives with matching sheaths, and his clothes. Everything else he had needed, all the incidentals, had been provided by Lena in the communal areas.


    He counted up the coins Lena gave them next. Thinking back to the information that they had gained during negotiations with the city council, he reviewed just what those coins meant.


    What Lena had provided was called Free currency, and it functioned off of base eight. Eight bronze bits to a nickel kop, eight kops to a copper tail, and eight tails to a silver nob. There were half pieces, but few merchants liked dealing in them, mainly because the were made of mixed metals, and the metallurgical tech wasn''t that great. Most metals came from dungeon delving, not mining. As far as Jason could tell, smiths relied on spell Skills to work their craft.


    Over all, the half pieces had a tendency toward irregularities that made them harder to string together. All of the coins had holes in the centers. The bits were round, just thick enough not to bend easily, and no wider than Jason''s thumb. The kops were thicker and square, as were the tails. The nobs thinned down again and were round. Gold pieces belonged to merchant currencies. As they weren''t likely to make any bulk purchases, or look for items that were extremely exotic, gold was more of a liability to carry than an asset.


    "Strings" of the coins, in the local parlance, equated to thirty-two coins. With that in mind, Lena had given them three strings of bits, two strings of kops, a string of tails, and another string of nobs, in addition to the stuff Rob called their walk about money, a string of mixed coins: half bits, a quarter kops, six tails, and two nobs.


    Rob had paid their expenses off of his walk about string. Jason tucked his own string into an inner pocket of his vest.


    He normally thought of vests as frippary for preppy duche bags and fancy events, but Lena had layered in armor plates and something that acted like kevlar between the pretty designs adorning this vest, making it just fancy, non-threatening armor. It also helped that this wasn''t Earth, and he didn''t have to deal with figuring out fashion. Another point in its favor: Rob had helped design the look of it. Rob was not a duche bag, and so this was not duche wear.


    The shirt he wore had the comfortable feel of his T-shirts, but long sleeved with the stretchy cuffs of finely knitted garments. It was a creamy off white in color. The pants were based off their jeans, only not blue. They were, in fact, a tan shade of brown that blended in with the local dust and dirt, making them most excellent work pants.


    None of them had known enough about shoe technology for the Grand Tapestry to ferret out the patterns of their sneakers, so Lena and Candy had examined the versions the Tapestry had assigned them when it "instantiated their patterns" into the world. Jason preferred the Tapestry''s versions, and Lena had used that as a basis for some of her "sanity crafting projects", which resulted in the armored boots he wore. They, too, were brown, and their jeans tucked in to the boot tops quite nicely.


    Rob, too, got dressed and ready for the day. They left Tahmina curled up on Rob''s bed, Rostem up on top of the wardrobe, and Adam guarding the chair when they went downstairs to see what the inn offered in the way of breakfast.


    <hr>


    Arassi were obligate carnivores. Beast kin and targonauts were omnivores, with dietary preferences that followed the paths of their bestial heritage. Elves had a preference toward the leafier side of the food divide, and Gnomes did best on diets that more closely resembled a healthy human diet.


    The grin Rob gave the platter of meat slices earned him a disturbed look from the fox kin youth. That was hardly surprising, though. Everything about Rob seemed to mark him as the odd elf out.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    Watching the other patrons in the common room as they watched Rob reminded Jason of the occasions he had wandered into Rob''s favorite bar without Rob. There was a wariness in their eyes, an assessing gleam matched only by the resentment that tightened their bodies. The Gatos Gris bar crowd had eased up on him a lot when Rob was with him and even more after Rob introduced him around as an Army buddy who "understood how to get things done" and "didn''t buy into bullshit".


    The resentment reaction of the Splendid Tails crowd showed itself especially strong among the arassi. Jason was just glad that it was breakfast and not dinner, that the folks with their scales ruffling still had clear heads and the freshness of recent rest. He didn''t want to see what happened when that wasn''t the case.


    They were most of the way through a breakfast of bread, freshly picked sweet beans, and rabbit meat when a familiar arassas sat down at their table.


    "Jason Kline, Roberto Garcias, a surprising pleasure to see you here. How fairs the other Dreamers?" This arassas had scales painted black with a faint silver sheen. He wore a leather cuirass, also dyed black, over a well cared for black and brown uniform.


    "Is it?" Jason asked.


    Rob smacked him upside the back of his head. "Don''t be an ass." Turning his attention to their guest, he said, "My apologies for grumpy guts here, Kargerran. He hasn''t had his morning coffee. Though, I gotta admit, I''m curious too if this really is a surprise. After all, this is the inn Guardsman Wayne recommended, and you are on friendly terms with Corporal Ignemrot."


    Kargerran shrugged. "I would love to find out what this ''coffee'' is. I might be on good terms with the Studio Liaison, but I haven''t talked with him since the day before yesterday. I''m taking it something happened?"


    Jason drew in a breath, but Rob beat him to it. "We''re on a general reconnaissance mission for the Studio to explore the larger world and report back our findings. Jason and I are the only members of the original crew with anything looking like experience related to that, so we''re here to look for guides and some additional guards before we take off to discover if the world''s as close to this Unraveling thing as we''re getting told and how the various people of the world want to deal with it."


    Kargerran sucked in a breath, making a hissing sound as he did so. "An Unraveling, you say?"


    It was Rob''s turn to shrug. "That''s what we''re getting told. It relates to that whole Karth Sun Elf thing you guys didn''t want to deal with. Above your pay grade, I know."


    Jason sat back. He didn''t feel the need to speak up. There was no pressure to step into the conversation, to steer it. That impetus seemed to have died when he left the Studio yesterday. Or maybe ¡­ when he took the new contract, and got released from the Liaison contract.


    One thing Jason knew for certain: Lena would never intend any mind fuckery. That did not preclude there being some mind fuckery happening with her Guardian Contracts. They were operating blind and trying to secure the basics when they took the original contracts, nor had events slowed down since then to really sit down and review what was going on.


    "Fuck you, Rob, for bringing up coffee," Jason sighed, rubbing at his face with both hands as implications began tumbling through his mind.


    Rob patted him on the shoulder, a touch of the smart ass showing through with some genuine attempt at comfort.


    <hr>


    Rob let Jason wallow in whatever dark thoughts were clamping down on him while he, Rob, handled their public face stuff.


    "Having dealt with the creepy bastards that are the Sun Elves so far, I very much understand the city''s decision to stay out of that, but, yeah. If the city isn''t helping us with some of this stuff, there''s not a lot of reason for us to waste your time and ours by bringing it up."


    The fox boy came over to their table and asked, "Would you like your breakfast here or in a basket, Sergeant?"


    "Here, please," Kargerran said with a nod and a familiar, pleasant smile for the boy.


    The kid glanced between them, looking hesitant, but he moved adroitly enough back into the kitchen.


    "Now, what''s brought up this fear of an Unraveling?" Kargerran asked, the pleasant mask quickly replaced with concerned attention.


    Rob held up a finger and chewed at the bite of meat he''d snagged while the sergeant was otherwise occupied. It felt like forever before he could swallow the food, even though he deliberately went for one of the smaller pieces.


    "So," he said when his mouth was finally clear again. "The Sun Elves were looking for a way to replace zone control cores for dungeons. Some idiots over in Karth are running around and snagging them from the dungeons. How they''re doing it, we don''t know. Any how, they figured out how to do that without causing an immediate implosion, but ¡ª you were there when we went over the stuff Lena learned from the Tapestry because of her being the Studio''s arbitor, right? The whole dungeons are actually mana conditioning zones, taking the Primal stuff and making it safe to replace the mana that leaks out of the Tapestry?"


    At Kargerran''s nod, Rob continued. "The zone cores, they hold patterns that they stuff the mana into, and those turn into creatures, plants, objects, everything that comes out of a dungeon. These core thieves, they figured out some way to push all these stored patterns out into the mana flow itself. Without a zone core to manage the process, the patterns fill at random, and each of the patterns can only take so much mana so fast. Without someone or some *thing* balancing intake and outflow, the dungeon destabilizes. If its a small enough zone, a new zone core will spawn pretty fast because there aren''t a lot of patterns to fill. If it''s been around a while, the dungeon will get ejected from the Tapestry when the destabilization passes a certain point."


    "Why is that?" Kargerran asked. If his scales weren''t lifting, Rob would have said the arassas sergeant had an excellent poker face.


    "After the first zone core spawns, no others will. The pattern is restricted by the Tapestry, and only zone arbitors get to spawn them as they like. The cores have to mature to a level where they can handle all the calculations and even just the sheer mana flows they deal with in the larger dungeons. That takes time, usually the same amount of time it took for the original dungeon to get as big as it was when the core goes poof."


    Rob speared another piece of meat. "Now, that''s pretty much the situation. The mages from the Arcane Asylum that showed up a few days back said things like stagnant weather and stuff are longer term signs of approaching Unravelings. You wouldn''t happen to know of a good place to find a reliable guide for touring Malta, and some guards worth hiring on, would you? Maybe some ex-military friends?"


    Kargerran blinked, shivered, the movement settling his scales back down. "For the guide, you''d do well to check at the Adventurer''s Guildhouse. If you need more than a squad, Val''Melnroe would likely be happy to introduce you to the Mercenary Guild representative in town. We don''t allow mercenary companies within the walls."


    Rob nodded. He had been present when they found out just how highly parandrians regarded anyone with a [Champion of Order] design, and as Lena''s known associates, some of that cachet rubbed off on them. Val''Melnroe was a parandrian stag with an epic rack, ten points and as tall as his own torso.


    The fox kin server returned with a platter of seared meat shavings and a steaming cup of broth, which he placed in front Kargerran.


    Rob took some comfort in seeing the sergeant nearly inhale his food. Some truisms of military life held, even across dimensions or universes or whatever separated the Grand Tapestry of Rhofhir from Earth.

 Write-a-thon Day 6

    Kargerran departed to start his duty day at the Lotrot military compound. Rob had brought down one of their blank journals and a black ink version of Lena''s pens and gotten a sketch of the path from their inn to the Adventurer''s Guild before the arassas took off. They followed Kargerran''s advice to take their arms and armor with them, as well as anyone or thing that could add to their show of strength.


    "After all, you should know better than I how many bodies of would-be usurpers the tribesmen have been dumping in the dungeon," he had said.


    Jason had nodded back with a resigned grimness. "That we do," he said. The parandrian tribesmen surrounding Lotrot held dungeons as sacred places of karmic recycling. The majority of the people dumped in Lena''s dungeon had been noncombatants, or at best the dregs of society. Not a single one had given the dungeon a soldier class design or anything more combat effective than [Brute] or [Mage].


    That was why they had Rostem and Tahmina perched on their shoulders while Adam strode along beside Rob. They got looks, but aside from some merchants calling out their wares, no one approached them.


    The hawker for a new [Bonesmith] answered Rob''s curiosity over how everyone maintained such bright smiles. Dental hygiene was still an issue for modern first world nations on Earth, but seemed pretty well handled in Lotrot. Rob had wondered if it might be related to mana-based healing, and in a way, it was.


    "Teeth fixed! Teeth fixed! Come see the Bonesmith! Reasonable rates! Scales chipped? Come see the Bonesmith!" The hawker, a young gidatuar with an impressive parade ground voice hollered out that verse a few times before adding, "New shop just opened! Establish yourself on the new Bonesmith''s client roster for a life time of preferential service!"


    That was, until he saw the shadow wolf, screeched like a chicken spotting an ax wielding farmer, gathering himself for a leap ¡ª only to promptly faint.


    All eyes swung to the panicked gidatuar at his screech, then swept over the street looking for danger. Rob placed a possessive hand on Adam''s head, as much to demonstrate that Adam wasn''t aggressive as well as to show that he was under someone''s control.


    While a lot of eyes lingered on them, most continued their sweep. After all, if the wolf were dangerous, it would have been attacking, not huddling up to an elf and looking for the source of the gidataur''s panic with them.


    Even as they looked for danger, a trio in City Watch grays stepped forward. One, a wolf kin, went to the fainted gidataur, while the other two began a variation on the "move along, nothing to see here" routine of city police work the universe over.


    A forth guardsman, a slender arassas, spoke in the body-shaking bass range of female arassi as she stepped nearer to Jason. "Please continue along. Gidataurs have a racial fear of shadow wolves, and it would be better for the boy if your wolf wasn''t in sight when he comes back to his senses."


    "Yes, ma''am," Jason said, and they quickly moved along.


    <hr>


    The Guildhouse for the Adventurer''s Guild stood several stories tall in the middle of a gated compound. The gates were wide open, and no one seemed to be stationed at them, which made it a little less weird to stop and admire the construction.


    The walls were worked stone, similar to the city walls. Unlike the city walls, these were only five meters tall and two meters thick. Like the city walls, there were arrow slits near the top and murder holes in the archway framed by a double set of gates, one to each side of the wall. Geometric abstract art adorned the walls, mainly composed of variations in the shade of stone used in the wall''s construction. The walls themselves were quite smooth.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    "Think they''re ready to repel invaders?" Rob quipped. Jason snorted and nodded.


    They walked through the entrance arch and headed to the central building. According to Kargerran, that would be their public administration building, and a receptionist would be able to guide them through the process of recruiting the people they were looking for.


    Arrayed around the central building were the somewhat familiar shapes of ancillary office buildings and more utilitarian facilities. A few well armored people moved toward a building just to the left of the central building while another pair entered one of the more warehouse-sized buildings.


    As they got closer, they sighted the sign Kargerran told them to look for: a scroll with a wooden dip pen poised over it. That was the entrance for petitioners, what the guild called their clients.


    They barely stepped into the room before a gnome woman harrangued them. "Companion pets must be collared on guild property! And your team is in the wrong place! This is the Petitioner''s Office, not the Adventurers!"


    "Actually, we are here to discuss posting a petition, and we are not adventurers." Rob flashed an irritated grin at the woman. She was pretty much what he had expected a gnome to look like, wrinkled and with eyes that dominated her face. Her skin had interesting patterns of red and brown streaks and her canary yellow hair, pulled back in a neat bun, showed off her lack of ears.


    She took the correction with grace, dropping some of the exasperation from her expression. "My apologies for snapping, then. We''ve had an influx of adventurers from other regions and the change in routine has been an adjustment for all of us. However, companion animals must be collared. I''m surprised you were permitted to walk through the city with your wolf uncollared, to be honest."


    Jason said, "You make it sound as if these collars are something special."


    The gnome''s expression changed again, this time to round eyed alarm. "Please tell me that you have some means of magically controlling that wolf and you''re not just relying on *training*!" She practically spat that last word, as if it were a disgusting concept.


    Rob kind of wanted to tease her, but Jason spoiled the fun. "He''s under a magical contract that puts him under my authority."


    The gnome''s alarm turned to curiosity. Before she got a chance to start interrogating them, Rob asked, "So, where would we get these collars, and can we put in our petition seeing as we''re here already?"


    Heavy clopping footsteps drew the gnome''s attention to a archway on their left.


    "That won''t be necessary, Grascile." A growly tenor voice preceeded the appearance of a bipedal blend of deer and bear. The lower half of the man borrowed its shape from the deer part, though unlike deer the dew claws actually extended back enough to act as additional surface area for the foot. All over, the man entering the room was covered with the thick, shaggy hide of a bear. His head, with the exception of a pair of grand antlers, resembled nothing so much as a bear''s head. That included the fuzzy round ears set to either side of the top of his skull. He wore leather chap-style pants and a long leather vest over an unbleached linen tunic shirt. When he spoke again, the stubby fangs of a bear flashed in his mouth. "Jason Kline, Roberto Garcias, to what does this humble office owe the honor of your presence?"


    Jason smiled, keeping his lips closed. "Val''Melnroe, it''s a pleasure to see you again. Rob and I have been tasked with going out into the wider world and reporting our findings back to the Design Lead of the Studio of Capricious Dreams. We are seeking a guide and some additional guards for the journey and were directed here."


    "An honor, in deed. First, do you have other animal companions?"


    Jason said, "We left our horses at a stable by the inn where we''re staying while we''re in town."


    "Horse ¡­. " The parandrian stag''s gaze grew distant, distracted as he repeated the unfamiliar word. Then he nodded, his focus return to the room. "A low threat beast of burden, non-monstrous. Good. Grascile, please procure the appropriate collar forms for our guests'' companion creatures. They need not be active, merely demonstrate that the creatures are controlled." His gaze turned back to them. "Please, right this way. We can discuss your needs in my office."


    The gnome looked like she was trying to swallow lemons, all pucker-faced and surprised, but merely said, "Yes, Assistant Guildmaster."

 Write-a-thon Day 9

    Talking with Val''Melnroe was much easier without any mages present. His posture remained ramrod straight, but that probably had more to do with the habit of supporting those fricking amazing antlers on his head than anything else. His attitude, however, had relaxed quite a bit. It also helped that just being around Lena''s dungeon building activities and helping her with them had started them on completing their own [Champion of Order] designs. Parandrians loved them [Champions of Order] almost as much as they loved them dungeons.


    Jason had shared how he had been basically ordered to show his status screen to the Lotrot military commander on their first meeting. Considering how personal that information could get, the male contingent of the Studio crew played around until they figured out how to share just parts of their status. They also discovered how to revoke the sharing privileges, which apparently wasn''t automatic. Jason had quickly canceled his status sharing with Commander Faulkin.


    Rob had about had a heart attack when his "fully integrated" Skill list included several entries of "Erotic Arts", each with a different specialty. At this point, he doubted he would ever willingly share his full status screen with anyone. Ever. If he had seen a character sheet with the breadth of skills his own status showed, he would have walked away from the game. Not having that choice here, he just ignored it all and focused on living his life.


    Regardless of all that, showing Val''Melnroe their progress toward their [Champion of Order] designs had done a lot to sweeten the attitude of the Assistant Guildmaster of the Lotrot Branch House of the Adventurer''s Guild. They were still making pleasant small talk when Grascile knocked on Val''Melnroe''s door with the collars for their creature companions.


    After showing Rob and Jason how the collars latched and how they would normally work, Val''Melnroe turned to his receptionist. "Grascile, what assignments have the Serpent Striders and the Long Fangs taken?"


    "The Striders just completed a collection run into the Wastes. The Fangs are on a recon contract with the city to track down reports about a goblin warband in the area. It was reported almost two weeks back, but no one''s seen them since."


    "That was taken up by the Grass Whistles," Val''Melnroe said, his expression flattening.


    "Yes," Grascile said, unperturbed. "They took the original contract, but they haven''t reported in and despite my assurances to the contrary, the military contracted a second scouting group this morning."


    Val''Melnroe inclined his head, his eyes narrowing. "I see." Straightening, he stood and said, "Very well. Are the Serpent Striders in the Hall?"Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    Grascile wiggled her hand. "I passed them coming out of the baths on my way back from Gilt''horn''s workshop. They were headed in the direction of the Hall."


    "If you Dreamers would please follow me," Val''Melnroe said, leading the way out of his office.


    Rob''s lips twitched. He knew it was just him being weird, but it amused the hell out of him whenever the natives of Rhofhir referred to them as Dreamers. The Lotrot City Council had sent a contingent of negotiators to the Studio of Capricious Dreams when they accepted that the dungeon was under Lena''s control. The representative from the Rimward Mages Guild had been particularly obnoxious, calling the Earth natives "demons". The rest of the negotiators had been reluctant to call them Travelers. It seemed most Travelers fell on the monstrous scale, and rarely ever reached anything remotely like being fully Aware, so when they asked what the Earthlings wanted to be called, Rob had suggested Dreamers. Jason went along with him, and now they were Dreamers.


    Val''Melroe led them out of the central building and over to the building left of the Petitioners Office. According to Kargerran, this should be the Adventurer''s Hall. A sign hung over the entryway sporting a scroll impaled by a blade and an arrow with a pile of coins to the side.


    Inside, the Adventurer''s Hall resembled the common room of the Splendid Tail, minus the stage. There were more tables and several of them were meant to seat smaller groups. Along the walls were several boards decorated with different colored slips of paper.


    The quiet murmur of the morning crowd stilled, the wave of silence traveling out from the first adventurers to spot their Assistant Guildmaster.


    Val''Melnroe scanned the Hall. His lips curled ever so slightly into a smile just before he spoke. "Calissa, bring your boys out to the yard. You have clients to impress."


    Rob heard a sibilant hissed, "Sshucks," in the silence, the sound registering in the higher pitched range of his newly broadened hearing. He doubted Jason could hear it, though judging by the way Val''Melnroe''s ears turned down, Rob guessed the parandrian has also heard.


    A woman with a head full of snakes stood, followed by a minotaur, a gnelf, and two arassi. She walked with a bouncy stride toward them. The nearer she came, the more clearly Rob could make out her features. For one, her skin was scaled like a snake, not the pine-cone scales of an arassas. Her natural pigmentation was a mottled brown with flecks of green and gold. For another, the snakes on her head weren''t actual full on snakes. They were more like half meter long fanged reptilian tentacles. Her body was quite humanoid, including breasts, and she wore loose fitting trouser style pants over boots. She wore a long sleeved shirt, slit up the sides, that stopped at the middle of her thighs under a leather cuirass sculpted to resemble well defined abdominal muscles and a pair of perky tits. Brass bits adorned her armor, helping to emphasis the sculpting.


    Her stride faltered, just a minor shuffle added to her gait, when her gaze swung from Val''Melnroe to Jason, but she had recovered by the time she looked over at Rob. Coming abreast of them, she tapped two fingers to her opposite shoulder just before flicking her wrist so her hand splayed out, palm facing them, in a casual greeting wave. "Hey, Second Boss. What kind of impression you wanting?"


    Without saying anything, Val''Melnroe led the way out to the courtyard in front of the buildings.

 Write-a-thon Day 12

    "Where are we off to first?" Calissa asked. Rob found the movements of her snake hair distracting, but Jason seemed to take it in stride.


    Rob, Jason, Calissa the gorgon, Abram the minotaur, and Shamgrar the arassas sat in one of the private meeting rooms. Adam and the two kitteagles lounged in a corner of the room, the shadow wolf tucking himself into that freakishly tiny ball of armored muscle once more. Elta, the gnelf in their team, along with the other arassas Karmeliven had been sent off to secure supplies for the Serpent Striders once Val''melnroe explained the contract was for a few months worth of guard work.


    The demonstration had involved a lot of athleticism on an Olympic level, but with magic in the mix, Rob didn''t really know if it was as impressive as it felt to an Earth-born Traveler. What he had noticed and approved was the coordination between the teammates.


    That and Val''Melnroe''s recommendation clinched the deal for Jason, and Rob was happy to go along.


    "Well," Jason said, "that''s partly what you''re here for. There aren''t many gorgons running around, and I''d guess less so with a minotaur and an gnelf for back up, nor are any of you particularly hard to pick out of a crowd. Y''all were on escort duty for that Thromtock fella, so you should know that Rob and me, we''re Travelers and attached to the Studio of Capricious Dreams. Our current mission is to explore the world, get first hand confirmation of how things work and what the general situation is. To that end, we''re hiring you to act as guides and guards along the way."


    "Well," Calissa drawled. "Are you planning to stay on Malta to start with? You said the Studio dungeon''s now linked up to East Karth. Are we going there? Because if we are, we need to get a company of mercs; preferably one lacking in elves and beast kin to help us stay out of their dramatics. Parameters, we needs them."


    Jason smiled. "No, we''re not starting near Karth. Staying on Malta for now should be good, but seeing some of the port towns and some of the interior ones, and visiting the various races of Aware are on the itinerary."


    "Then I''d say heading to Port Sala first, and from there overland to New Botam. We can take the river from New Botam up in to the Sages and introduce you to the gnomes. It''s two weeks to Port Sala, a month overland to New Botam, but you don''t have to worry about what mood the selkies are in. By sea, it''s three weeks, if the selkies are in a good mood or your ship''s below water and you''re hoping to be near a beach, which means *if* you make it out of the water, you''re foraging for the rest of the trip to New Botam and taking at least double if not triple time to get there."


    Abram rolled his eyes. "The selkies aren''t that bad," he said. "You just need to insist your captain has the [Selkie''s Friend] design. Monsters they may be, but they''re only immediately hostile to whalers."


    Rob shook his head. "Um. Selkies? As in, shape shifting seals?"


    Abram spoke faster than Calissa. "No, they aren''t shape shifters, but, yes, they are monstrous seals. Near sapient, but not quite there yet."


    Calissa said, "Selkies are a risk, and none of us have the gift of breathing water. We can quibble over transport after we''ve figured out where we''re going. Port Sala and New Botam are both Free Cities, both dominated by arassi, but they are independent city states. Looking around should give you an idea of what is common to the arassi as a people and what traits separate them as citizens. River travel from New Botom to the Sages should introduce you to naiads, and while they''re Aware, they''re also quite solitary, and not immediately hostile. Gnomes originated in the Sages Mountains, though they''ve dispersed throughout Rhofhir almost as successfully as the elves."


    Here Calissa stopped and faced Rob directly. "You are a Traveler elf, so I''m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you are not arrogant condescension personified. In the time I''ve had to watch you, you do not act like an elf of Rhofhir. That means the long ear nobbers will treat you worse than they treat non-elves. They are very impressed with conforming to their hierarchies, which is where a lot of the problems we have with them spark. If elves were less powerful, both as a people and individually, they wouldn''t be anywhere near so wide spread as they are. Where an elf walks, resentment follows.


    "That also means that when people see the other elves treat you like slime on their boots, they will target you for taking out their own resentments of the smarmy bastards. Elta''s mother was elven and he grew up in their heirarchy. You will learn from him how to act like a Rhofhirian elf and spar with us in the mornings, or you''ll pay double for our services because it will be that much more of a risk for us to guard you."


    They hadn''t actually gotten around to discussing fees, but Rob could respect her position. Even if he did want to see what his elven energy could do to wear down her own arrogance.


    Jason''s lips were puckered in a way that Rob knew meant he was holding in a laugh.


    "What?" rob demanded.


    Jason started chuckling. "Your ears are about as expressive as a cat''s. Ease up, and, you know, enjoy your ''privilege''."Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    Calissa narrowed her eyes while Abram leaned back. She asked, "Privilege as in¡­?"


    Jason waved her question off. "Politics from Earth."


    Rob sighed. "Do you ever see parents playing favorites with their children? Trying to pretend they love their kids all the same, but one kid always gets away with more shenanigans, gets first pick of new toys, parents believing them over their other children, that kind of thing?"


    Shamgrar spoke up for the first time. "Yes." He fairly hissed out the word.


    "Does the kid getting the favored treatment always recognize when it happens?" Rob asked.


    Jason rolled his eyes, but didn''t stop Rob from making his point. Again.


    The three Rhofhirians exchanged looks between themselves before Calissa said, "Not always. Children don''t have as much acuity as adults."


    "Privilege is when that kind of favoritism is shown to a group of people because of some characteristic they share. And when you''re on the bottom of that privileged group, it''s hard to see, because there are probably people who aren''t in your privileged group doing better than you. It''s easy to say that something you''re blind to doesn''t exist, even when everyone around you is slapping their foreheads at your idiocy."


    Jason said, "Is that out of your system now? Can we move on? Politics of Earth do not apply to Rhofhir."


    Shamgrar snorted. "Eh. You''re in an arassi city, and you''re not arassi. What ¡­ Rob? said, that''s going to happen, with the arassi being the privileged. Elves ¡­ Eh. Elves are more like the bullies you don''t piss off than they are favored children. They are too aware that they had to force their way into every non-elven society they''re part of. The Soccers are the only reason they haven''t been uniformly run out all the way back to the forests of the Karths."


    Calissa sucked in a deep breath, but Jason beat her to speaking. "Rob, are we done with the politics?"


    With Jason having just pointed it out, Rob noticed how his ears tried to lay flat against his head. It was just such a *weird* sensation. "Sure. Itinerary. Port towns, up the river, talk to gnomes. Works for me. That''ll take us, what? Two months out?"


    Jason sighed. "Let''s plan on spending up to a week playing tourist in each port, so two weeks to get to Port Sala, one week rubber necking, a month to New Botam, a week there, that''s two months. How long up the river?"


    Calissa''s tightening features relaxed as Jason spoke. "As much as a month, depending on how well the naiads like the barge captain we hire."


    "Alright. How much are you thinking it''ll cost to hire this barge?" Jason asked.


    "If we keep him out of sight, budget a tail," Calissa said, gesturing at Rob. "Assume that anyone who spots an elf at the bargaining table doubles or triples their price as a kind of fee for putting up with long ear contempt. It''s a fairly widespread practice."


    Rob caught Jason''s eye and quirked an eyebrow at him, suddenly wondering what the cost of a normal inn stay was.


    Jason asked.


    Something that looked like amusement hovered around the gorgon''s face as she answered. "If you''re spending more than a bit for a common room, the place is full to the rafters. A single room at a nice inn normally runs from two to four bits, or a kop for an elf. Doubles or triples have a wider price range, but rarely get up to a full kop for anyone without long ears. With your companions, a good innkeeper will only double whatever he charges you while a greedy one will charge triple rates for them to sleep inside the inn. And by the look on your faces, you''re paying elf prices."


    Jason nodded, looking like he was sucking on lemons.


    Calissa shrugged. "Hiring our team comes at a cost of a tail a day."


    The minotaur''s eyes subtly rounded, but he relaxed as his team leader went on. "If you were just looking for guards, it would be five kops a day, but you need mentors as much as you need guides and guards. You''re going to go through drills with us in the morning and at night. On travel days one of us will be going through all the things little babies learn about how the world works. Pay will be due on the day we reach the various cities. That way, you are at least in a somewhat civilized area if we decide we cannot work together. Are you good with this?"


    Jason used his hands to ask for Rob''s opinion: thumbs up? Thumbs down? Rocking hand for maybe?


    Rob gave his thumbs up to the deal.


    "Are you good with handling securing our supplies?" Jason asked.


    Calissa nodded. "As long as it doesn''t come out of our pay, yes."


    "Then we are agreed."


    The terms of the contract rang in the back of Rob''s mind where he "heard" all of the Skill up notices. It made him twitch, but he suppressed the reaction.


    Jason reached into his vest and pulled out five tails. He pushed them over to Calissa. "Let me know when you need more funds for our supplies. How long will you need to prepare?"


    Rob could just about see the effort of will it took for Calissa to lift her gaze from the casually proffered coins. "We''ll be ready by tomorrow morning. Were are you staying? We''ll need to take lodging there to provide you with your guard detail."


    "The Splendid Tail. We already have a pair of horses; think big, ridable donkeys. Will you need mounts?" Jason asked.


    "No. If your horses don''t have movement Skills, we''re faster on our feet." Calissa seemed almost proud of that.


    "Alright," Jason said. "Would it be worthwhile to pick up a wagon or cart or what have you for the supplies? The horses can pull as easily as carry."


    Shamgrar clapped his palms together, bending his fingers to keep his talons from clicking. "I know the perfect caravanier! They do house wagons!"


    Rob perked up, pictures of gypsy wagons rolling down the road capturing his imagination.


    Jason took one look at him and started laughing.