DEGM 4, Chapter 30: Party Tryouts (Patreon)

Hans knocked on Devon’s door across the hall from Hans’ guild apartment in Leebel’s Rest.

“I was about to head out,” the Paladin said when he answered. “What’s up?”

“No one showed up today but me and Chisel.”

“There was a session today?”

“Yes. You haven’t been to one in a long time,” Hans said. “I thought it was helping?”

“It did, or it was. I don’t know, but I don’t think I’ll be going back.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to. I really have to get to my next patrol shift.”

Hans held up his hands. “Give me just a minute. We both know the treatments don’t work that quickly. Why step away early from something that’s helping?”

Devon looked as if he considered pushing by Hans. There would be no stopping him, of course. A long pause passed before he said, “I’m not strong enough.”

“What?”

“Telling the story… I can’t do it. I know that’s the big cornerstone to the whole thing, but it’s too much. I tapped out, okay?”

The Paladin shifted uncomfortably where he stood. Not for the first time, a vision of Devon as an Apprentice came to mind for Hans. He moved like that when he was embarrassed or when he was in trouble, like he was trying to wriggle free of the universe itself.

“I know it sucks, but it’s worth it to get to the other side. I’ve wanted to quit too. Pretty much every session, actually.”

“Yet another point where you’re better than me. Happy?”

That behavior was familiar too. Devon felt cornered.

“I’m going to ignore that and say one more thing, then I’ll leave you be, okay?”

Devon nodded, gruffly.

“You’re trying to outrun it, and we both know that doesn’t work. I came to you because I worry about you and don’t want you to suffer. Okay, that’s it.”

Hans stepped out of Devon’s way. The Paladin left immediately without a word.

What was the right thing to do here? Should he press Devon, holding him accountable long enough to get him back into sessions? Or would that only make things worse? 

Theneesa would have the answer if she were here. But she wasn’t.

Still standing in the hallway, Hans rubbed his eyes. He wondered if Vaglell got this frustrated as a Guild Master. In Hans’ mind, there was a time when Vaglell truly cared about his adventurers and maybe still did in his own way, so surely he encountered these same kinds of obstacles. Or, given Hans’ recent experiences with the Platinum Bard, had Hans simply danced to Vaglell’s tune, blissfully ignorant of the manipulation his whole way to Gold?

With the number of his memories attached to the Adventurers’ Guild, Hans wasn’t sure he wanted to answer that question.

The sound of children roughhousing echoed up the stairs. He needed to get it together and teach.

Hans went to his room, drank a gulp of whisky, and then chugged a cold cup of tea to mask the smell. When he went downstairs, he planned to pour himself a fresh cup of tea to be sure. For now, the warmth of the liquor brought him comfort as it moved to his belly. It was too soon for the alcohol to have had any effect, but his brain associated that feeling with approaching peace. Olza said that was a type of conditioning, something he trained himself to do across countless drinks consumed for this same reason.

If he still needed a drink like this, maybe Devon was right. Maybe this Cursed memory theory was bullshit.

***

“I think I found a Rogue for our party,” Mazo said, taking a seat on the fountain edge next to Hans. “He got Iron with the last cohort but hasn’t done any jobs yet.”

“Isn’t that kind of weird?”

“That was my first reaction, but apparently he’s a decent boxer. He wanted to finish out his circuit before focusing on adventuring fulltime.”

“A boxer, huh?”

“I knew you’d like that part.”

“What makes you think he’s a good fit for us?” Hans asked.

Mazo laughed. “Because he said yes.”

Which was fair. Their attempts to round out an adventuring party had thus far been a series of rejections. The polite ones simply said “no, thanks” where more than a few laughed in their faces. Hans felt like he had progressed substantially from his first day in the Hoseki training room, putting on muscle and getting the hang of swordplay, but the other new Irons didn’t see him that way it seemed. 

Where Hans was sure he was to blame, Mazo was equally sure that she was the problem, a fact she admitted after their most recent rejection. Halflings weren’t resilient. They couldn’t carry much gear let alone the harvest from a job. And even though she was born within the kingdom, many people thought of Mazo as a foreigner because of how rarely halflings were seen in the Capital.

So, in her mind, her presence held Hans back.

“He wants to join our party?” Hans asked.

“Yep.”

“I mean this in the best way, but why would he want to party with us?”

Mazo laughed. “I asked him the same question, almost word for word. He said all the best adventurers from his cohort had complete parties, and the ones left were just brawlers… then all the best parties were filled in our cohort too, so we’re the least terrible option he has.”

“He said that?”

“I’m extrapolating a bit.”

“As long as he isn’t a dick, I’m willing to give him a try.”

“Great,” Mazo said. “Shall we peruse the job board then?”

“Run a three-person party?”

“I know it’s not optimal, but I need to make rent, and this is the best chance we’re going to get I think.”

Hans thought. “Yeah, okay.” 

In the largest chapters, every rank up through Gold had its own separate job board. The jobs within each board were posted in such a way to approximate where on the spectrum of that rank a job fell as well as how urgent the job was.

From left to right, jobs got progressively more difficult. From bottom to top, the jobs had tighter and tighter timelines. The system wasn’t an exact measurement by any means, and the job board was only so big, so depending on the week, the board could skew heavily toward any extreme. Though that loose framework wasn’t precise, it made scanning a busy job board faster and easier for everyone.

In Hans’ and Mazo’s case, they needed the lowest left Iron job possible–easiest with the loosest time restrictions. Additionally, as unproven Irons, they were only eligible for select low-level Iron jobs. After three successful jobs with favorable client ratings, they could apply for any job at their rank.

Newbie jobs were the worst of the selection and paid for shit, but there was no getting around doing them.

Entering the main guild hall never failed to bring Hans a rush of excitement. Something was always happening, and upper-ranked adventurers from across the kingdom passed through or came to train, so there were always new faces as well. The guild hall was the most likely place to see the top names in person, and most of the instructors heavily encouraged networking in the guild hall for that reason. Hans and Mazo weren’t going to suddenly become best friends with Guild Master Vaglell, but they could meet a few Bronze adventurers who needed extra hands or another party of Irons looking for a second party to meet a larger job’s minimum requirements.

Over the years, those relationships would bear all sorts of fruit, from lifelong friendships to dizzyingly large paydays. In theory.

The guild hall was like the open interior of a barn. The front two thirds were tables and benches with the job boards running down either side. The final third was for guild administration. Guild associates staffed a long counter in front of enclosed offices and storage units for rare materials and items. 

Today, nearly every table in the hall was occupied by adventurers, their assistants, and their clients. Some simply shared food and swapped stories. Others finalized the details on a contract before heading out to do the work. And others were freelancers, solo adventurers who hung out near the boards with the hopes of filling an empty slot in a party.

Freelancers could be problem adventurers, but more often they were regular adventurers in between jobs. One of their usual party members could be injured, and everyone else opted to take the time off while one wanted to work, for example. Adventurers making long journeys to see family also often snagged jobs along the way to cover their expenses, and sometimes a party split up for practical reasons.

A regular crew of six might have to leave two members out to make a particular job profitable. Parties tried to avoid that, but that was not always possible.

Hans and Mazo skimmed the Iron board–lower left–for potential jobs.

“Family cemetery with a skeleton issue,” Hans said.

Mazo read one at her eye level. “Caravan guard, ‘includes meals with expected camp duties.’ Nope, nevermind.” 

Camp duties was a broad catchall that could mean being a guard as well as a bagman and a horse caretaker. Manual labor was unacceptable to Mazo.

“A missing cow?” Mazo asked in rhetorical disbelief. “Really?”

“How about an estate security inspection? ‘Adventurers needed to confirm the safety of an abandoned estate prior to new owners revitalizing the property. Estate status unknown, mild infestation possible. Lockpicking skills preferred.’ This one isn’t bad.” Hans unpinned the flier and handed it to Mazo.

While she read through the fineprint, Hans meandered over to a region map to get an idea of the journey. Mazo joined him a moment later.

“Uhh, that’s a heck of a walk for what we’ll earn,” she said. “We could end up losing money.” 

Mazo’s definition of ‘a heck of a walk’ was roughly a daylong journey one-way. In fairness to her, Mazo needed 1.7 steps to cover the same distance as one of Hans’, so the difficulty of a walk would always be naturally higher for her. She hated the 1.7 measurement, by the way. Hans figured that out one day to pass the time, and Mazo insisted it was demeaning.

“Maybe not,” Hans replied. “I’m pretty sure fog caps are in season, and I bet we find some wizard’s beard in that valley too.” The former was a type of mushroom and the latter was a silvery moss, both used in alchemy.

“I thought fog caps were really hard to find.”

“They are,” Hans said. “If the estate job gets us to at least break even, anything we harvest on the way back is profit. It won’t be a lot, but if we’re walking by rent money might as well pick it up.”

“And get one crap job out the way.” Mazo read the job description and looked at the map again. “Alright. I’m in.”

A Guild associate logged their party members’ names, including the new Rogue Mazo found, and pinned the job on the pending board behind the counter.

The next morning, Mazo met Hans outside the Guild hall and introduced him to the Rogue.

“I’m Gret,” the young man said, extending a hand. 

Hans shook it but was taken aback by the Rogue’s raccoon eye bruises.

“Looks ridiculous right? Broke my nose. A Healer set it and mended it, but the bruising has to go away on its own apparently. You should have seen the other guy.”

“Got him pretty good?” Hans guessed.

Gret shook his head. “Nope. He looks great. I barely touched him.”

Hans and Mazo both laughed. Soon, the party set out for their first job.

The valley in which the estate was located was a remote escape for a wealthy family and was the only residence in the area, ideal for fox and boor hunts or for enjoying the peace and quiet of you, nature, and twenty of your servants waiting on your every need.

Two unfortunate events coincided to leave the property abandoned. The wealthy owners had a particularly bad year with investments and scandals, so when a landslide blocked the only road in or out, the family didn’t have the capital to have it cleared. Fifty years later, new owners acquired the land and were anxious to see their purchase in person.

Once they were sure it was safe.

Stone pillars marked the official entrance to the property, but the road from there to the mansion was long and overgrown, the wagon tracks all but lost to nature. Clearing the way wasn’t part of the job, but their report did have a section about the condition of the road so the new owners could prepare appropriately.

On foot, the brambles and bushes were easy enough to navigate, and the adventurers made good time approaching the mansion.

“Fog cap!” Mazo shouted.

“Really?!” Hans asked.

“Nope.”

“That’s not funny.”

Gret chortled.

“We need to be serious on jobs,” Hans said. “What if you yell about goblins and I don’t believe you?”

“Honestly, that sounds like it would end up being your problem.”

“You two are friends?” Gret asked.

“Sometimes,” Hans gruffed.

Mazo cackled.

When the mansion came into view, Gret whistled. The two story building was mortared stone for the first floor and timber for the second. At one time, the timber was covered in cedar shingles for protection, but many of them had blown off in the last five decades of valley storms. The roof had strangely faired better in retaining its shingles, but it was far from intact. Several holes punched down through the wood, but to Hans’ untrained eye, it looked like the structure of the house was in good condition. Holes would be easier to patch than setting all new trusses.

Those observations were also part of the job report.

“Let’s do a lap around the perimeter first,” Hans said. 

Pausing, Guild Master Hans looked around the classroom of young faces and then asked, “Why would we check the perimeter first?”

Hans pointed to Harry, the smith’s son who happened to be visiting Leebel’s with his father for a few days. “‘Always learn as much as you can about where you’re going before you get there,’” he answered, repeating a line he had heard from Hans many times over.

“That’s right. What should we be looking for while we do our walk?” Hans asked.

“Monsters!” a tusk of maybe five-years-old shouted from the back. Her name was… Melody? Melissa? Alyssa?

Anyway.

Another young tusk raised his hand, this boy closer to nine or ten. “Could be stuff inside.”

“Like what?”

“Monsters.”

Hans laughed. “Yes, but what kind?”

“Goblins.”

“Potentially, but they tend to prefer bedding down in places that are more easily defensible. Any other ideas?”

“Rats!” 

Hans didn’t see who said that, but directed praise in the general direction of its origin. “The most likely infestations are still a pain but not as exciting as monsters. Rats, bugs, bats, maybe snakes who came to eat the rats and bugs–that’s what you’ll find most of the time.”

But the three Irons weren’t so lucky.

As they looped around the back of the house, Gret pointed to a second floor window and asked if Hans and Mazo saw what he saw. They did. That definitely looked like webbing, and it seemed to continue into the attic based on the gray white gunk covering the intact glass on that level as well.

“The job was an inspection, not extermination,” Mazo said. 

Hans reviewed the items listed on the job request. “We’d be turning in a report with two thirds of the criteria blank if we didn’t search the second floor and the attic.”

“Not a great look for our first job,” Gret observed. “Can’t say I’m excited about spiders, though. Their bites are nasty when they’re big, and it’s worse if they’re venomous.”

“Yet…” Hans said, tucking the pages back into his pocket.

“Yet, we have to go inside,” Mazo groaned. “Alright. Fine. If I get strung up into a web, I expect you two to come get me. If you don’t, I’ll haunt you until you die and then haunt your ghosts too.”

Hans nodded. “Deal.”

The job specifically mentioned a preference for a Rogue in the party so that any intact doors with working hardware could stay that way. A Rogue could pick the lock where the alternative was kicking it in. The larger description of the job requested that the party Rogue pop every lock they saw for that very reason.

Gret made quick work of the front door, and as Guild Master Hans explained to his students, the majority of creature activity they inside saw was of the typical woodland variety. The spider nest was an exception and occupied one room of the second floor and all of the attic. 

In the stories, spider nests seethed with countless highly-aggressive arachnids, but in nature, they were more often solitary ambush predators. Other than breeding and birthing, spiders lived and hunted alone. The more spiders in one place, the less food there was for each of them.

So when the adventurers found no spider on the second floor, they paused at the bottom of the attic stairs, looking up into the darkness thick with sticky web.

“Would it be so terrible if we left the attic off the report?” Mazo asked.

***

Open Quests (Ordered from Old to New):

Address the Night Terrors.

Investigate the possibility of the orc lich being the orc’s Wargod.

Rebuild Leebel’s Rest.

Monitor the changes in the dungeon core.

Be the friend Devon needs.

Investigate uses for sedimander teeth.

Complete the next volume (Bronze to Silver) for “The Next Generation: A Teaching Methodology for Training Adventurers.”

Establish a Hoseki-grade library in Gomi.

Collect and organize more knowledge from visiting adventurers.

Finish renovating and move into your new home.

Find any possible lead for fixing the poisoned forest.

Search for more leads about torc-orcs and alps.