The late afternoon sun spilled over the treetops in long amber streaks as the party approached the towering gatehouse of the Warren Outpost. The fortification dominated the clearing like a wooden giant, its palisade walls rising high above them, thick logs stacked tightly together, reinforced with iron-banded beams that gleamed faintly in the descending light.

  Two guards stood watch on the elevated platform overhead, silhouettes against the sky, bows resting comfortably in their hands. Another guard descended the stairs and stepped forward to meet the group as they approached. His leather brigandine bore the Adventurers Guild crest, worn from long hours but maintained with careful pride. His posture radiated the sort of experienced calm that came from dealing with countless adventurers, troublemakers, and everything in between.

  "Welcome to the Warren Outpost," he said, voice carrying the authority of routine. "Before you settle in, a few things to keep in mind. This dungeon is under official guild management. That means quests, rewards, and regulations." He paused, letting his gaze sweep over Josh, Brett, Perberos, Carcan, and Bhel. "And yes, that includes a share of the profits."

  Brett lifted an eyebrow. "A share?"

  "A tax on loot," the guard replied with an easy nod. "Five percent, collected when you register your haul at the guild station. In return, you get access to our medical ward, secure storage, constant patrols, blacksmithing services and pretty much everything keeping this place from collapsing into chaos." He gestured behind him, toward the bustling settlement.

  Josh took in the sight. This wasn’t some rough gathering of tents and tarps like the makeshift camps they’d had at the goblin dungeon. Buildings stood sturdy and well-constructed, smoke curling from chimneys. Guards moved in rotating patrols. Blacksmiths worked openly at forges that glowed like miniature suns. Adventurers of all shapes and skill levels filled the streets.

  "Makes sense," Josh said. "Seems more like a town than an outpost."

  "Good attitude," the guard said with a grin. "If you’re new arrivals, you’ll want the Twin Trails Inn. Receptionist there will sort you out with rooms and registration. Just follow the main road, big sign, big building, big crowd. Hard to miss. You’ll probably smell the stew before you see it."

  Bhel chuckled, the sound rumbling like distant thunder. "Stew and exhausted adventurers? My kind of place already."

  The guard gave a short laugh, waved them through the gate, and turned to shout instructions to the watchers on the platform.

  Inside, the settlement thrummed with life. Adventurers in mismatched armour leaned over grindstones, sparks flying as they sharpened their weapons. Two mages, one in deep violet robes, the other in pale blue, argued loudly with an enchanter who looked one negotiation away from tearing his own hair out. A group of archers loosed arrows at straw targets pinned against the inner palisade wall, each twang of bowstrings blending with the rhythm of the blacksmith’s hammer.

  The scents hit next: roasting meat drifting from open cookfires, smoke curling lazily into the air, the metallic tang of worked steel and the acidic smell of mana. The atmosphere pulsed with an energy that made Josh’s heart beat faster.

  "Feels like the start of something big," he murmured.

  "Feels like the start of you bleeding everywhere," Brett countered.

  Carcan’s lips curled into a knowing smile. "You say that like it’s not both."

  Perberos snorted, flicking his hair from his eyes. "If there is bleeding, at least make it entertaining."

  They continued down the main road, passing clusters of adventurers exchanging stories or comparing loot. At the centre of the outpost rose a broad, two-storey building, its slanted roof and wide veranda instantly distinguishing it from the rest.

  Lanterns hung from the eaves, glowing warmly despite the fading daylight. The carved sign above the door depicted two winding trails crossing and diverging again, polished from countless hands brushing against it.

  A signboard swung gently from an iron hook, reading:

  The Twin Trails Inn

  The heart of the outpost and, if the smells drifting from its open windows were anything to go by, the heart of its cooking, noise, and trouble as well.

  The interior of the Twin Trails Inn washed over them in a wave of warmth and noise. The air smelled of roasted garlic, wood smoke and something sweet simmering in a copper pot. Broad timber beams crossed overhead like the ribs of a great beast, lanternlight catching on their polished surfaces. Long tables filled the common room, some crowded with rowdy adventurers comparing wounds, others occupied by quieter sorts hunched over maps or dice games.

  A wide stone hearth dominated the far wall, flames dancing bright and casting a golden glow across a dozen padded chairs arranged around it. A pair of exhausted-looking delvers slept there already, boots still on, tankards dangling precariously from their hands.

  Behind the front counter stood a sharply dressed man with sandy hair tied neatly at the nape of his neck. His shirt was crisp, sleeves rolled cleanly to the elbow, and he carried himself with the poise of someone who could maintain order in a room full of battle-hardened lunatics. His smile was pleasant—practised, but not insincere.

  “Good evening, travellers,” he said smoothly. “Welcome to the Twin Trails. I’m Tomas. Checking in?”

  Perberos stepped forward with the calm ease of someone used to handling logistics. “Yes. We’ll need lodging for five.”

  “Of course.” Tomas slid a ledger from beneath the counter, an enormous, iron-reinforced tome that hit the wood with a satisfying thud. “We offer three categories of accommodation.”

  He opened the book with a flourish.

  “First: the shared bunk hall. Three silvers per head. Clean bedding, fresh straw mattresses and communal washroom. But the privacy is, er… minimal.”

  Bhel narrowed his eyes. “Minimal privacy means someone in that hall is going to snore like a dying ox.”

  “Almost certainly,” Tomas replied without missing a beat.

  “Second option: private rooms. Seven silvers a night. Lockable doors, decent space, access to bathing facilities and guaranteed peace, unless your neighbour is a bard.”

  Brett muttered, “Seven silvers? Does the bed tuck you in as well?”

  Tomas ignored him gracefully.

  “And lastly: our shared suites. Designed for adventuring parties. A private washroom, reinforced chests for valuables, writing desk, table, and a small hearth. Twenty silvers per night for the suite as a whole.”

  Josh blinked. “Twenty? For one night?”

  Brett leaned toward him. “Robbery. Absolute robbery.”

  Tomas arched an eyebrow, unfazed. “Adventurers frequently return from a single delve with enough coin to pay for a week of comfort. A rested body is more likely to return from the dungeon alive. Consider it… preventative spending.”

  Perberos exhaled. “He is not wrong.”

  Carcan nodded. “Proper rest is as important as good armour.”

  Bhel shook his now noticeably light coin pouch. “It still sounds like a lot…”

  Josh glanced between them. “If we split the suite, that’s four silver each… That’s only a bit more than the communal room, and we won’t risk waking up near something like that,” as Josh waved his head over to the sleeping beauties they’d walked past earlier, who had now started to slowly drool.

  Brett winced dramatically. “Still robbery.”

  Carcan smiled warmly. “Think of the private washroom.”

  Bhel perked slightly. “I do like a good washroom. I also call the bed closest to the hearth.”

  “No,” Brett said instantly.

  “Yes,” Bhel shot back.

  Josh rolled his eyes.

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Tomas clasped his hands together in patient expectation. “Shall I put you down for the suite?”

  Perberos nodded. “Yes. The suite.”

  “Excellent.” Tomas dipped his quill in ink and wrote their names in elegant, looping script. “Second floor. Stairs to your right, turn left at the landing. Third door. You’ll find fresh linens already set. The kitchen remains open until midnight, ask for Mara, she’s the only one brave enough to serve the spicy stew this late. Laundry and gear repair services can be arranged at the desk outside.”

  Josh let out a breath, feeling fatigue and anticipation in equal measure. “Thank you, Tomas.”

  “My pleasure.” He gave a small, courteous bow. “May your rest be peaceful and your descent into the dungeon, tomorrow? Be fruitful.”

  The party exchanged weary nods and satisfied smiles. After miles on the road, uncertainty about the outpost, and the looming challenge of the dungeon, the promise of warmth and a real bed felt almost luxurious.

  They made their way up the stairs, boots thudding softly on the polished wooden steps. The corridor was quiet enough to hear the faint creak of the building settling, and lanterns hung in copper brackets, casting a warm amber glow. Their suite door was reinforced with iron bands and fitted with a sturdy lock, a comforting sight for any adventurer.

  Inside, the suite was surprisingly spacious. A common room took up the centre, furnished with a low table, several cushioned stools and a small hearth already set with dry wood. A few decorative tapestries hung on the walls, depicting stylised winding trails similar to the inn’s emblem. The air smelled faintly of lavender and clean linen.

  “Not bad,” Josh said, stepping in first.

  “Better than a bunk hall I imagine,” Brett replied, dropping his pack with a relieved groan.

  Bhel stomped in next, his gear clanking like an armoured mule. “I claim the room closest to the hearth.”

  Perberos raised a finger. “We have not even looked at the rooms yet.”

  “Don’t need to. Hearth means warm. Warm means good.”

  Carcan laughed softly as she moved to open one of the doors. “There are three doubles. Two people in each room.”

  Josh peeked in and sighed. “The beds are tiny.”

  “They are normal sized beds,” Brett said.

  “Not for me they’re not. My feet are going to hang off the end.”

  Bhel patted him sympathetically on the shoulder with a massive hand. “Some must suffer, so that the rest of us may be comfortable.”

  Perberos inspected the small washroom. The stone basin, copper-handled pump and neatly stacked towels showed impressive attention to comfort for a dungeon outpost. “Everything seems clean and in good order. We should settle our belongings before we go back down for food.”

  Josh nodded, dropping his satchel beside the foot of the bed he had tentatively claimed. “Fine. But I call the left side.”

  “No one cares which side,” Brett said as he arranged his books and some components neatly on the bedside table.

  “I care,” Josh muttered.

  Once their belongings were stowed, they returned downstairs. The common room of the Twin Trails Inn had grown busier, with a cheerful mixture of clanking armour, bursts of laughter and the rich smell of spices drifting from the kitchens.

  They found a table near the hearth, where a server placed clay mugs of cool water before them. “Evening. You’ll be wanting the adventurer’s meal, no doubt.”

  “Is it included in the room rate?” Josh asked hopefully.

  The server snorted in amusement. “Absolutely not. A silver each.”

  Brett nearly choked on his water. “A silver? For a meal?”

  “Dungeon outpost prices,” she said with a shrug. “High demand, long supply routes, hungry adventurers. But it’s generous portions. Stew, bread, roasted vegetables, and meat skewers. Enough to fill even him.” She nodded at Bhel.

  Bhel grinned. “She understands me.”

  Perberos sighed. “It seems everything here will cost us.”

  Carcan smiled calmly. “An investment in our strength. Proper meals help recovery.”

  Josh rubbed his temples. “Fine. Five meals, please.”

  The server returned shortly with steaming bowls of thick stew, platters of buttered bread and sizzling meat skewers fragrant with herbs. The warmth spread through them as they ate greedily.

  “This is worth the silver,” Bhel said between mouthfuls.

  “I agree,” Brett admitted, licking a spot of gravy off his thumb.

  Josh tried the roasted vegetables. They were spiced with something like pepper and rosemary, lightly charred and delicious. Finished, he leaned back with a satisfied sigh. “Alright. Fine. The price makes sense.”

  Perberos chuckled. “Only took you eating Carcan’s leftovers to accept it.”

  After their meal, the group climbed the stairs once more. Inside the suite, the common room’s lantern flickered gently. Someone downstairs had lit the hearth remotely, faint warmth spreading through the space. The air smelled faintly of wood smoke and clean linen, and the faint hum of the inn beyond the door reminded them that life carried on outside the walls of their temporary sanctuary. The party had dumped their gear and settled in for the evening, drawing chairs close around the low table.

  Brett flipped open the guidebook with a flourish, the well-worn pages rustling. "Alright, everyone. Pay attention. This is going to save us some headaches down there."

  Josh groaned, leaning back in his chair. "Save us headaches or bore us into the floor?"

  "A little of both," Brett replied, grinning. "But it’s important. The Kobold Warren is a complex place. This book details everything from the creatures to the loot and the bosses. Let’s start with the kobolds themselves."

  He cleared his throat and read aloud. "Kobolds are small, reptilian humanoids, typically three to four feet in height. They have scaled skin, often reddish or brown, and long, thin tails. Their eyes are keen and glimmer with cunning. While individually weak, they excel in numbers, traps, and guerrilla tactics."

  Bhel leaned forward. "So little but dangerous. Typical."

  Brett turned a page. "There are several types of kobolds to be aware of. First, the basic warriors. Short swords or daggers, fast and agile. Their strategy is hit-and-run and using the tunnels to their advantage. Then we have the slingers, who carry small crossbows and sling stones. Not deadly individually but dangerous when combined with traps."

  Josh rubbed his chin. "Haven’t we already heard all this from Mich yesterday?”

  Brett nodded, flicking to the next section. "Yes, but it can’t hurt to repeat it, can it. Next, the kobold spellcasters…”

  Brett was suddenly interrupted as Josh’s boot slammed into his shoulder. Everyone bar Brett laughed, instead the mage scowled at his friend.

  After a moment, Carcan spoke up. "Any information on elite or unusual types that Mich mentioned?"

  Brett’s eyes lit up. "Yes. There are a few others mentioned. Shieldbearers, larger, heavily armoured kobolds who can block pathways. Trapmasters, who are often seen carrying kits and setting traps for adventurers. And then the scalecloaks, a variant that uses stealth and can ambush from above or behind walls. They are not abundant, but they can ruin a party’s formation."

  As Brett went on, Josh leaned back, imagining the creatures darting through tunnels. "So, it’s more than just numbers. They have strategy."

  "Exactly," Brett agreed. "They exploit the environment, and the Warren is layered. Let’s talk floors."

  He flipped a few pages. "The first floor is primarily for lower-level parties, lots of winding tunnels, few traps, mostly basic warriors and slingers, some traps, along with some lower level elites. Loot is modest: coins, minor weapons, herbs. Second floor gets trickier. Kobold spellcasters appear more frequently, traps are common, and minor sub-bosses guard treasure caches. Third floor and beyond? That’s where it starts getting serious. Larger kobolds, scalecloaks, and elemental-infused traps. Each floor has a boss, but deeper we go, the bosses are usually with a small retinue of loyal kobolds."

  Perberos nodded thoughtfully. "Sounds like we should not underestimate the first floor either. Even the weak can hurt if caught unprepared."

  Brett’s finger traced lines on the page. "Typical loot by floor tends to scale too. First floor, copper and silver, along with minor magical items. Second, silver, better weapons, possibly minor potions. Third and beyond, gold coins, potent items, rare ingredients. Bosses drop higher-value loot: enchanted weapons, larger coin piles, sometimes unique items."

  Josh’s eyes gleamed. "So it’s worth pushing through carefully."

  Brett continued. "Bosses come in several types. Common floor bosses are kobold warlords, sometimes accompanied by spellcasters or elite warriors. Each boss has unique abilities. For example, one may summon reinforcements or lay traps during the fight. Another might use fire or poisons. The multi-floor design lets parties return and rest, growing stronger for floors with bigger bosses."

  Brett flipped to another page, reading out loud. "Resources available in the Warren include minor mana crystals, alchemical ingredients, and sometimes rare crafting components. Many parties report that the Warren is alive, and the kobolds adapt."

  Bhel leaned back. "Alive?"

  Josh smirked. "I think he means the kobolds keep moving stuff around."

  Brett laughed. "Exactly. Floor layouts can shift slightly, traps reset, tunnels blocked or opened. Flexibility is key. Always scout and check your surroundings."

  Perberos frowned. "Sounds exhausting."

  Brett closed the book with a soft thud. "It is. But that’s why we plan. Stay together, know your enemies, and keep eyes open. Between this book and warnings from locals, we’ve got a solid starting point."

  Josh stretched. "So tomorrow, first floor, careful, check traps, expect ambushes. Got it."

  Bhel tapped his axe against the table. "I’m ready."

  Brett grinned. "We’ll try not to lose you on the first corridor."

  Carcan chuckled. "Let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow, we see if all this reading actually helps us survive."

  As the fire crackled in the hearth, the party lingered a few more minutes, discussing minor tactics, favourite weapons, and what they might do with any interesting loot. The night grew quieter, inn patrons’ voices fading as the settlement around the dungeon rested. Outside, a gentle wind rustled against the fortified walls.

  The night had passed quietly, though not without minor disturbances. The party had eventually dispersed to their respective rooms, Perberos opting to share with Bhel rather than his sister, citing a strict desire for her privacy.

  Josh entered the room he had chosen earlier, eyeing the bed again. “Still small.”

  “Still normal sized,” Brett replied, claiming the bed on the opposite side.

  Josh settled under the blankets, tugging them up and adjusting the pillow. “I’m ready. Excited, even.”

  Perberos dimmed the lantern in the common area before retreating to his own room. “Rest is important. We have an early start. Remember that the first floors are often deceptive. Stay alert.”

  Everyone murmured their agreement.

  The suite grew quiet, the only sounds the faint creak of the settling building and the soft crackle of the hearth.

  Josh shifted once more, trying to find a comfortable position on the small bed. “Still too short,” he whispered.

  Brett groaned from across the room. “Josh. Please. Shut up.”

  Josh grumbled, adjusted the blankets and finally lay still.

  The light dimmed fully, and the party drifted toward sleep, ready to face the challenges waiting beneath the earth come morning.