The first year of the Gomi Games felt like a smashing success, leaving Gomi overflowing with adventurers and buzzing with excitement and camaraderie. Announcing his and Devon’s defection from the Adventurers’ Guild had, admittedly, soured the moment for several of the attendees. But it was a smashing success right up to that point.
Though Hans had a warning that this year’s attendance would likely shrink because of Vaglell’s unofficial edict–and Hans’ own actions–seeing smaller brackets was still disappointing. He would likely have to combine a few weight classes for the outlier weights, like strawweights and ultra-heavyweights, to give those competitors at least one match.
He hated doing that to adventurers who spent days on the road to be present, but this was the nature of a smaller event. When Hans was a young adventurer, he ended up lumped into heavier weight classes on more than one occasion, and it sucked every time.
One set of divisions at the Gomi Games were the exception and had far more participants than the previous year: the children’s divisions. A huge percentage of them were Gomi kids, but this time a year ago, many of them were fresh arrivals. They were quiet and scared, unsure of their new home. Today they were giddy over the idea of beating their friends and strangers with sticks.
“This is still a good turnout,” Devon said, taking the seat next to Hans at one of the tables in the registration tent.
On the other side of the canvas walls, adventurers warmed up for the day’s festivities. Mostly they were bullshitting, but Hans could hear movement as well. On the one hand, he wished he could be part of that energy. The other part of him needed to retreat into the registration tent to escape curious gazes, at least for a little while.
“We should have seen the blackball move coming, to be honest,” Devon added.
Hans nodded without looking up from the papers in front of him. “You’re right. I hope the merchants don’t feel like they wasted their time being here. Those would be harder to replace than adventurers come next year.”
“Set on making this annual?”
“I guess I assumed it would go that way. I hadn’t considered not doing it again.”
“Or every other year.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
With a finger in the tent flap, Devon looked out over the event grounds in Leebel’s Rest. “I’m surprised Bert didn’t make the trip.”
“He did,” Hans said. “He got in late last night. Saw him early this morning when we opened registration.”
“Oh, that’s good.”
“There are three Guild Masters here who came despite Vaglell.”
“That’s a statement if there ever was one.”
Hans laughed. “Yeah, that’s how I’m taking it too, but we’ll see.” Sitting back with a heavy sigh, he added, “Only a handful of Silvers this year. Not a single Gold.”
“Good. That’s less drama. The upper ranks get so sensitive.”
“Very true.”
Devon scratched his beard. “I never understood why that was, actually.”
“All that time at the top and you don’t have an idea?”
“Probably ‘cause the stakes are higher?”
“I think that’s technically true, but I would argue that’s an excuse. Self-importance. Ego. Being big time makes everything big, even if it really isn’t.”
“Are you feeling that happening to you?”
“Huh?” Hans turned to look at Devon.
“Now that you’re Diamond.”
Hans rolled his eyes. Devon snickered.
The tent rustled, and a big hand thumped the table. Both Hans and Devon jumped.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the races?” Bert barked, leaning over the table. “Good to see you again, Devon, by the way.”
Devon chuckled. “Good to see you too.”
“Races. I want in.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hans replied.
“Terry told me all about a dungeon that you stock with wooden men and how the students are timing it.”
“Nobody is timing it.”
Devon coughed. Hans looked at him.
Returning his attention to Bert with a look of disappointment, Hans said, “I should have expected this.”
“Donbia and Marrok have been talking real tough about running the course faster than me. Can’t let that stand.”
“If I were running dungeon races, not destroying the course would be one of the rules.”
Bert stood straight and crossed his arms. “Don’t see why that would be the case.”
Devon nodded. “I agree with Bert.”
“There’s no point in having a race if the course gets destroyed. We kind of need it to do the other races, you know?”
“I suppose,” Bert grumbled.
Hans tapped his pencil on the table, thinking. He smiled. “Okay. We’ll do it tomorrow. I’ll reset the course however many times we need to.”
Spinning to face Hans, Devon asked, “Really?”
“Yeah. Why does that surprise you so much? It’s going to be a pain in my ass to run back and forth so many times, but of all the dumb ideas people have had down here, this is probably the safest one yet.”
Bert rubbed his hands together. “The young ones are going to learn something. That’s for certain. Hans, you should join my party.”
“What? No. I set the whole thing up. Wouldn’t be fair.”
“You’re really going to use your second life to tell me no?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent!” Bert said, raising his hands. “I knew you’d come around.”
“I wasn’t saying yes to partying with you. I was-”
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Bert’s back was to Hans, and he was already three steps away. “Best be sharp tomorrow! We can’t be embarrassing ourselves out there.”
“He knows I’m really not racing too, right?” Hans asked.
Devon shrugged. “I know I wouldn’t want to be the one to break the big man’s heart.”
“Gods, you’re all nuts. We need to focus. We have a tournament to run.”
New Quest: Host dungeon races.
Smaller tournaments were less intimidating to beginners. Seeing a bunch of notable Golds lining up to compete was a thrill, but it also added more eyes and more pressure. Though he might have been disappointed with the turnout, Hans was happy to see most of Gomi’s homegrown adventurers signing up to compete. A quieter competition was the best place to get a feel for how a tournament day like this went.
Having won his division at Iron last year, Kane registered for Bronze. When Kane told Hans his plan, the Guild Master worried that Quentin would feel pressured to do the same, but the young adventurer told him separately that he wanted to focus on taking first at Iron. That was a relief. The two needed different kinds of challenges to improve their respective skill sets. The rank of the divisions they competed in wasn’t an actual ranking of either adventurer, but that was harder to see if you were the one watching your best friend bump up a division.
Gunther and Honronk both declined to compete. Uncle Ed seemed to be grateful to have the young tusk’s company between matches, but Honronk stayed in Ogre Valley.
A kid like Gunther bounced in and out of competitions throughout their career. He was competitive, sure, but he cared more about what he wanted to do than he did about any obligation to prove himself. One day, he’d probably want the novelty of a match again, and that would satisfy his competition needs for another few years.
Honronk, on the other hand, was unlikely to compete again. Hans had seen that type of student before as well. Plenty of adventurers decided that tournaments weren’t for them, but the Black Mage’s experience with Aaron the Diamond Geomancer last year didn’t help.
Terry and Becky helped referee the lower divisions, especially the kids’ brackets, and Tandis ran all over the grounds the entire day with her assistants crisscrossing everywhere she wasn’t.
Luther had intended to help Hans, but the tavern was overrun even before the registration tables opened that morning, so he helped Galad keep the Sleeping Dragon in one piece. With the smaller turnout, Hans was sure he’d be fine without the extra hands.
“How do you think it’s going?” Olza asked, appearing next to Hans as he stole a minute to watch an Iron from Osare and an Iron from Kohei exchange swipes and parries.
“It’s good. Folks seem to be enjoying themselves, and everyone is reasonably healthy.”
She leaned in to speak more softly. “And how are you doing?”
“Great.”
Olza looked at Hans incredulously.
“Alright, fine,” Hans said, deflating. “I’m getting a lot of stares. I understand why, but I still hate it. Like I’m some kind of freak.”
“I’ve heard a lot of stories about you being excited to see so-and-so in the guild hall when you were starting out.”
“Yeah, but those were upper ranks. Big-time adventurers.”
“And you’re what? An Apprentice?”
“That’s different.”
Olza patted Hans on the back. “They’re not looking at you. They’re looking up to you. Most. At least some.”
“You really think that?”
She nodded.
“That might be worse, actually.”
Olza slapped Hans’ arm and then slapped him again when he laughed.
“I need to get back to it,” Hans said after a pause.
“Yeah, me too.” Olza kissed him on the cheek. “See you soon.”
A few hours later, Hans had a crystal enchanted with Giant’s Voice in his hand. He climbed on top of a barrel to make himself more visible as his voice echoed across the grounds.
“We have officially called all of our standard divisions for swords and for Magery,” he said. “The Absolute divisions are coming up next, but those will go pretty quick this year. Friends, especially those of you who are done for the day, listen to me very carefully. We are tapping kegs after the final match, and those drinks are on me. But-”
Adventurers all over the grounds whooped and cheered.
Hans frowned. “Listen! Only the kegs out here are free. Don’t run up a big tab at the Sleeping Dragon and expect me to cover that too. Got it?”
A few voices hollered back.
“Good. Last bit of business for the day: You heard me explain the dungeon races earlier today. If you haven’t registered, you need a party of two, and it would be kind of you to register today instead of early tomorrow. We are starting runs first thing in the morning. If you’re too hungover to be on time to your match, we’re moving on without you. There are no rules against running the race hungover, by the way.”
After laughter died down a short moment later, Hans added, “That’s all I’ve got. Thank you for giving us a smooth tournament day, everyone.”
Once the beer and ale were flowing freely late that night, Bert grabbed Hans and led him to a group of three adventurers sitting beneath one of the bronzewood trees. Hans recognized them as the visiting Guild Masters who had come to the event in spite of Vaglell, two women and one man, all human.
With a hand still on Hans’ shoulder, Bert pointed to them one at a time. “This is Everett out of Riyu. This is Emerald out of Ochitsuita. And then we’ve got Gilbert out of Toi.”
Everett was a Fighter, and Emerald and Gilbert were both Elementalists, specializing in water and fire, respectively.
“I know Everett from a basilisk job way back,” Hans said, extending his hand, shaking each in turn. “I’ve not had the pleasure of working with Emerald or Gilbert, but we’re acquainted.” Hans had crossed paths with these Guild Masters several times before. They weren’t close, but they were aware of each other. “It’s been a good ten years since I’ve seen any of you, but it’s good to be seeing you.”
“I got a letter from Bert last fall about him leaving the Guild and joining some new adventuring association, and I figured it for a joke,” Emerald said. “But nope. He was serious. And then I heard about all the shit you kicked up a few weeks later. That’s when I was sure it wasn’t a joke.”
“I appreciate you all coming out. It’s nice to see some fresh faces.”
“The three of us rode in together,” Everett said, looking to her left and right to indicate she meant Emerald and Gilbert. “I can speak for us all when I say we want to hear you out. We put a lot of stock in Bert’s judgment, so if he’s doing something, we’re paying attention.”
Hans took a long drink to compose his thoughts. He wiped the foam off of his mustache. “Your chapter is as good as you make it. Adventurers’ Guild, Borderless Association of Adventurers, whatever. Having one name instead of the other isn’t going to automatically make your people stronger and safer. As far as my help goes, you’re just as welcome here to train whether you join up or not.
“What you have to decide is which option best equips you to lead your chapter and support your adventurers. We’re doing things differently with a purpose, and we’re trying several things that may or may not work. And when the dust settles on those, we’ll try more new stuff to see if we can make life a little bit better for everyone.”
The three Guild Masters listened while Bert stood off to the side, observing.
“Is it true you’re accusing a Bronze party of murdering you?” Gilbert asked.
“Yes.”
“You don’t expect that to create problems for the Association?”
“It most certainly will,” Hans admitted. “If it were up to me, I’d have never been murdered in the first place. The Association didn’t choose that.”
“Still.”
“You’re right. The next year or two is going to be messy. I can understand not wanting to get in the middle of that.”
“Bert says you made Diamond,” Emerald said.
Hans turned to the big Berserker. “That’s odd. We haven’t talked about that.”
Bert shrugged with a smile. “Devon told me. I didn’t know it was a secret. I can say he was tight-lipped about your boon, though. Wouldn’t tell me what you picked up. Leave it to the Paladin to have manners.”
“I’m glad he didn’t make a big deal out of it.” Returning his attention to the visiting Guild Masters, Hans said, “I have had some blessings, yes. I didn’t do a Diamond quest, though.”
“But you’re Diamond?”
“I’m Gold. I don’t believe in someone promoting themselves.”
A scratchy tapping echoed across the grounds. “Uhh, hello? Everyone? Hi.”
Hans turned to find the source of the voice. Devon stood in an open patch of clover, slowly circling to take in all of the revelers like he was announcing fighters for a prize match. He held a crystal to his lips.
“If everyone doesn’t mind a brief interruption,” Devon began. “I have an announcement to make.”
Open Quests (Ordered from Old to New):
Monitor for independently grown sections of dungeon.
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.
Learn more about the limits of the dungeon roots.
Test the extent of your dungeon influence.
Host dungeon races.

