Walking across farmlands with a blue sky felt unnatural to Hans. After days and days of living in Leebel’s Rest, his idea of a farm had a square sun and brick ceiling. In comparison, the farmlands on the surface felt quaint and rustic, like nostalgia given shape. Hans hadn’t lived in Gomi that long to warrant such intense feelings, he thought, but this place had become a defining part of his life.

  The dungeon roots didn’t encompass all of the Tribelands, at least not yet, but Hans could walk most of the grounds without encountering his invisible boundary. He was told Yotuli had gone to the surface to work with Galad for a few days. Deciding that his apology shouldn’t wait, Hans took a field trip up the tunnel to find her.

  The brewers in the barn pointed Hans down the way to one of the older farmhouses in Gomi, not far from where the titan bones were wrapped in bronzewood trees.

  An elderly tusk couple, their hair gray and their skin liver-spotted but their forms still stout and strong, stood with Uncle Ed, Galad, and Yotuli. A few yards away, Galinda sat in the dirt with a young tusk girl. Three boys, ranging from six to maybe twelve, Hans estimated, chased Devon around a field that was in-between plantings. The Paladin’s faded pants had dirt caked on the knees, and his tattered shirt had tiny muddy handprints speckled all over.

  “I don’t mean to crash a party,” Hans said when the group noticed his approach. “I came to speak with Yotuli, but it can wait if you’re busy.”

  “Even Mr. Hans is visiting,” the oldest lady tusk said. “What did we do to become so popular?”

  Galad offered his hand to Hans. “If this is a party, it was not planned.”

  “Devontes was not officially invited either,” Uncle Ed said with a grin. “He was working the fields when we got here.”

  “This is a happy occasion,” the older tusk said. “Ed here is adopting two of our rugrats. Will be nice for them to have a permanent place and some schooling too.”

  “They were the first to care for Kane and Gunny,” Galad added, indicating the tusk couple. “Older kids without a guardian usually stay here for a bit. It lets them get acclimated to life in Gomi. Never seemed fair to ask a child to pick a permanent family two steps through the gate, you know?”

  “How does that work? Kids picking, I mean.”

  “Everyone here is their aunt or uncle, so it’s really about finding them a place they want to stay permanently. The oldest kids, fifteen or sixteen or so, might decide to stay here until they’re old enough for their own place instead of moving in with a family. That doesn’t happen often, though.”

  “I think I get it,” Hans said, recalling that Ed lived next door to Gunther and Kane when he first arrived, rather than with the boys directly. Yet, he functioned as a guardian of sorts, but it wasn’t a dynamic Hans was familiar with. Even now, grasping it was difficult. “The Gomi idea of family is still a bit hard for me to understand sometimes.”

  “The short of it is we never want the children here to feel like they’re in danger of not having a home. They’ve been kicked out and abandoned before, many times in some cases. The Tribe is permanent, and they’re welcome here whatever cabin they choose to call home. Or house, I guess, now that we have Leebel’s. You get my meaning.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Yotuli has been spending a lot of time with the children of Gomi,” Galad added. “She happened to be on her way here when we were.”

  Yotuli stepped away from the group. “We can speak now. It’s no problem.”

  Hans separated himself from the discussion and followed Yotuli out into the same field where Devon and the children played. Their shouts and giggles were at the far end of the property now, and Devon was on all fours chasing them while they squealed.

  As Hans and Yotuli passed Galinda, she said, “Charlie wants to know when the bones are getting moved.”

  Active Quest: Relocate the titan bones to the dungeon entrance.

  “Yeah… Sorry. Lost track of that.”

  “He’ll survive, but you have the fair warning about him getting ornery.”

  “Thank you.”

  When Galinda was out of earshot, Yotuli asked, “What can I do for you, Guild Master?”

  “I came to apologize for my behavior the other day,” Hans said.

  “I wasn’t offended.”

  “I was pretty disparaging of gods and religion and the like.”

  “If it turns out Daojmot is actually a god, I’d abandon the faith,” Yotuli said. “I understand associating the two, but to me Daojmot is separate from the Merchant or Wargod or Tlepsh, the dwarven god. I think Daojmot exists in spite of them rather than because of them.”

  “Explain that to me.”

  “Tusks are the progeny of Wargod. He has no love for us and does not claim us. The Merchant made it clear that his domain was not for us to visit, so his version of Daojmot does not claim us either. He might be empathetic, but his doors are closed. Devontes the war god is the only being of great power to actually stand among us. Even then, he’s a person in every other aspect. I respect him, but I would never worship him.”

  Hans chuckled. “He would hate that so much.”

  “If all gods are like Devontes, mortal beings who came upon great power, I see no reason to worship them. All bastards and wanderers, not just tusks, have needed help for a very long time. Gods never came for any of us. Like everyone else, they sat by and watched our mothers get raped.”

  Not knowing what to say, Hans opted not to say anything.

  Yotuli continued, “Life was easier for me when I thought all of the gods had left this world. Learning that many of them are still here makes me hate them. How can any god expect us to worship them when they so easily walk by a tusk child starving in the gutter? We aren’t one of them. Like the Merchant’s oasis, we aren’t allowed in.”

  This sounded a lot like talking to Gunther. “I’ve not heard you express this much anger before.”

  “I didn’t know I had so much. It took you losing your eye for me to realize that the Merchant’s Daojmot was not my Daojmot, but that has taken time to crystallize. They might be similar, but I think as soon as you close yourself off from other bastards, you’ve decided that you’re superior to them. If someone turns people away, I can’t call them my brother or sister in Daojmot.”

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  “Has this made your Cleric training more difficult?”

  Yotuli shook her head. “My faith has never been stronger.”

  “Do you regret the arm?”

  “No. It was a lesson I needed to learn, and I am not below using a gift to help others, even if that gift came from someone whose importance in my life has changed.”

  Hans felt a swell of pride. “I admire your strength.”

  “Thank you, but you shouldn’t. I think Daojmot is like the void. Most people see it as nothing, but anyone willing to look knows that’s not true.”

  “You lost me there.”

  “Have you heard Miss Mazo talk about the void plane?”

  Chuckling, Hans answered, “A few times, sure.”

  “She gave a lesson a few months back where she explained that some people think of different planes as marbles in a jar. They’re self-contained, yet they touch one another. Void is everything in between. Unlike our plane or any other, the void touches all worlds at once. Yet, most beings can’t be bothered to look closely at it, to see the life that’s actually there in the gaps.”

  “So they underestimate it,” Hans said, echoing the same lesson. “Since it’s not important, they don’t make it part of their calculations.”

  “Right. I realized that’s how Daojmot works too. Bastards and wanderers look like nothing, yet we are everywhere.”

  “Living in the cracks.”

  Yotuli nodded.

  “What did you hope to get out of attaching my story to Daojmot?”

  “I thought it would help other bastards and wanderers know that they are seen.”

  “Why do you need my story to do that?”

  “Because it’s remarkable.”

  “Use my story however you want,” Hans said. “You have my permission, but I think your story is better. You should tell that one instead. And again, I’m sorry for how I reacted.”

  Quest Complete: Apologize to Yotuli.

  A griffon took off from the far side of Gomi. Hans watched the beast and its rider rise above the palisades. The beating of powerful wings slowly faded as the griffon flew toward Osare.

  Spotting Charlie coming in through the front gate, Hans stopped to speak with him. Hans could catch the next cart down if he needed to. Or, more likely, he could swim like a cave crawler to get back to Leebel’s. As Hans approached, he noticed a stack of mail in Charlie’s hands.

  “You coming to tell me the bones are moved?” Charlie asked.

  “Not yet. They’re on my list.”

  “That’s the problem. I want them to be off your list.”

  “I didn’t mean to let them sit as long as they have,” Hans said. “I promise to take care of them.”

  Charlie thumbed through the mail and held out two envelopes for Hans to take. “We’ve got a man who rides into Osare now for mail and flies it back. Should have been doing that all year, but later is better than never.”

  “Thank you,” Hans said. One of the envelopes had a royal seal.

  Still looking through the mail, Charlie said, “Mountains are seeing flurries already. Sometimes they do that and keep it up high, but sometimes they don’t.”

  “So get your mail in while you can.”

  “Exactly.”

  “How have the undead numbers been?”

  “Manageable,” Charlie answered. “The counts are thinning out a little bit but not enough to make me think we’re close to the end of it. Patrols haven’t had any trouble. If that’s the best we get, I’ll take it.”

  “And there’s been no sign of the orc bands we’ve heard about.”

  “That’s true. Becky’s ranged pretty far to confirm as much. Think the undead have something to do with that?”

  “Probably not. Just counting blessings.”

  Charlie looked down at the mail in Hans’ hands and then back up at the Guild Master. “Getting as many blessings in as you can before you open that, huh?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Rip that arrow out together?”

  Hans nodded. With a deep breath, he broke the seal and unfolded the letter. He read it aloud:

  Hans Prig the Adventurer,

  Your accusations, as well as several corroborating reports, have been heard. The Adventurers’ Guild has agreed to cooperate fully with our investigation. In the spring, a representative of the court will personally verify the key details of the alleged crime.

  Bridun the Bronze-Ranked Bard and his party died on the job shortly after their alleged crime in a failed effort to repel bandits from a merchant caravan. Since they can no longer speak for themselves, we ask that judgment of their actions be reserved until the full investigation is complete. Disparaging the life of a respected adventurer prior to the rendering of this decision is disrespectful to their memories and an insult to the court.

  Accusations against Guild Master Vaglell the Platinum-Ranked Bard have also been heard and are too being investigated. Guild Master Vaglell is presently in the frontier. Given his place of respect in the kingdom, know that disparaging his name prior to the rendering of a decision on the matter is also an insult to the court.

  The letter ended with a stamped version of the royal crest.

  “That’s terribly convenient,” Charlie scoffed.

  “Bridun dying before he could be investigated?”

  “Yes, but Vaglell traveling the frontier is not much better. What’s your brain saying?”

  “I’m thinking I’ve already done a lot of disparaging.”

  Charlie laughed. “After what they put my heart through with the fae?” The Mayor spit on the ground. “I’ll share as many insults as I damn well please. The court can fuss as much as they want. I don’t give a shit.”

  Pausing to think, Charlie added, “I shouldn’t say I don’t give a shit. I’m already not sleeping over this excursion to Hoseki. This nonsense will certainly affect them.”

  “I’m nervous about it too,” Hans admitted. “At least with the griffons they won’t be gone as long.”

  “And they’ve got Devon to keep them safe.”

  Hans nodded.

  “He’s a good kid. It’s a lot to ask of him to look after that many people, but I’m grateful to have the peace of mind. That peace is very, very small, but it’s something.”

  Hans read the next letter.

  “More news from the kingdom?” Charlie asked.

  “Thankfully no,” Hans answered. “My next batch of books is delayed. I guess there was some flooding, and that’s created quite a mess. Washed away a few bridges.”

  “So we should expect fewer merchants next time around.”

  “That’s what it sounds like.”

  Charlie scratched his beard. “I wonder how much I should pull back on the baking. Don’t want it to go to waste if there’s not folks to eat.”

  “If you bake too much, I will make the sacrifice of taking all of the extras off of your hands. As a favor to Gomi.”

  “A paragon of virtue, you are,” the Mayor said with a laugh.

  Open Quests (Ordered from Old to New):

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

  Learn to help your advanced students as much as you help beginners.

  Relocate the titan bones to the dungeon entrance.

  Master your Diamond boon.

  Get Dunfoo the materials he needs for a Holy enchantment.

  Brainstorm more competitive dungeon games.

  Run future tests in a secure part of the dungeon.