Dungeon 42

Opinions

As the Daggers training progressed to group tactics they moved from the training grounds on the surface down into the dungeon proper. 42 had constructed an arena for the purpose, and watching the training sessions was a pastime of the dungeon denizens. The usual bets were made, but notes on fighting styles were also traded along with complaints. The Daggers were progressing but they couldn't participate in raid league matches yet.

From the stone bench closest to the arena Henry observed the Daggers as they fought together. It was the first time for the complete group since they'd been separated for training. Jarod, Cord, Argent, and Pip had been doing reasonably well with a stand in for Quint for over a month. They'd learned some of the basics of how they could be supported by and in turn, support a caster.

Now Quint was back and they were learning to adjust to his abilities and limitations. A process complicated by his somewhat delayed advancement. Under Aarons tutelage the young man had managed to scribe a third as many spells in a month as he had when the others taught him. The rest of the daggers had been learning to fight with a wizard who had far more.

The Daggers were facing off against the Silver Pixies. The raid league teams had been the most eager for a real fight. Aside from Chris at any rate, but he was banned from interacting with them during training. Not that the Silver Pixies were treating the group gently, they could simply be trusted not to take things too far.

"I'm low on mana, I can't keep-" Quint huffed. The rest of what he'd been about to say was lost in a yelp as a blunted arrow caught him in the shoulder. He was behind in terms of combat training and overall power as a spell caster. The Daggers had gotten used to their substitute and weren't adjusting well.

"This is a farce," Balkas grumbled. He'd been keeping track of Pip's progress, though if out of concern for his former student or simple spite was yet to be seen.

With Quint partly incapacitated the Daggers strategy was hobbled, but not broken. It was yet to be seen if they'd claw out a win or fail.

"They'll learn. Old h-habits are hard to break," Henry said, uninterested in the poor showing. The Daggers still tended to fall into patterns from before their class changes when togeather. They'd been working on it but Quint's arrival had made it obvious once more.

"They'd brake faster with proper training," Balkas retorted. His tone was nearly even, voice only a little lower than usual. It was as good as a growl from someone else.

"We could drill into them how the various classes fight, how formations work, but it would only hinder th-them in the long run. Life revels in thwarting expectations and r-ruining plans," Henry said, guestring to the Silver Pixies. "Had you ever dreamed of such a group, let alone seen it?

The Silver Pixies were made up of a ranged fighter, two rogues, and a tank. They'd forgone the option of a fifth member, preferring to embrace specialized tactics over numbers.

"The boy won't be ready any time soon," Balkas countered, gesturing at Quint.

"I won't speak to topics I know so little about. Aaron is overseeing his education, and I'm no mage," Henry replied. Aaron was was being a stickler about everything, need for or not, according to the other mages.

Still, Henry meant what he'd said. He'd never encountered a mage of any kind in life and hadn't had enough time studying them yet to feel he properly understood them. He could kill them certainly, but only under favorable conditions, which wasn't acceptable. Truly knowing a class meant being able to turn even a bad situation in your favor.

"Do you deny it then, sorcerer? Will your apprentice be ready in time?" Balkas asked.

"A tower mage wouldn't be considered an apprentice until his fifth year at the earliest," Aaron replied, clearly distracted. He was tracking Quint as the fight continued. Quint dutifully didn't use the arm the arrow had struck. It was a rule, one that if ignored would result in his arm being properly broken to ensure compliance.

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"And what good would such a person be against a dungeon?" Balkas asked.

"We didn't have them," Aaron replied.

"Did your world?" Henry asked, trying to pivot the conversation. Aaron was withdrawn from the rest of the necropolis socially and his magic was impaired for want of blood, but he was formidable. The idea of trying to mediate between him and Balkas was exhausting even theoretically.

"Yes, though not like this one or the others I've served in. They were just old ruins with occasional monsters' nests or runaway spells in them. Remnants of old kingdoms and things like that," Balkas replied.

"So nothing relevant to the current situation," Henry said. That got him a sharp look and just the faintest hint of a sneer from Balkas. He was starting to understand why Chris found the man so annoying. "Or am I wrong?"

"There have to be better adventurers than this dross, but if we must use them then 42 should have compelled obedience. They lack discipline and I've little doubt that their lust for money will vanish once they get a taste of an actual dungeon," Balkas said.

"Compelled obedience? Is that what your masters did to you?" Henry asked, irritation igniting into something less kind.

"My loyalty was freely given," Balkas replied stiffly.

"Ah, before or after you were given over to whoever trained you?" Henry asked, already fairly certain of the answer.

"I was given to the order of shadows because of my talents. My time there convinced me of the righteousness of their work," Balkas explained.

"And you were what? A man when this happened? A young man? A child?" Henry continued.

"What does it matter?" Balkas asked, perplexed rather than angry.

"I've known men like you. Given to the military much too young and told it was honor-honorable and you should be honored and that you could leave any time you wanted. Not that you would have lasted long as what amounted to an orphan on the streets if you did," Henry said, speaking from experience. He hadn't been the only child sold to the military, though he'd ended up in the worst possible position in that respect. Assassins didn't get to leave, ever. "Some still left though, or you were told they did. Really though, they wouldn't have let them. Too much risk of giving away secrets."

"As if you know anything!" Balkas said, voice actually rising to a shout.

"I know more than you on a great many subjects, so do not casually speak of compulsion to me," Henry retorted. Balka's mouth dropped open into a small "O" of surprise before snapping shut and twisting into a sneer. He looked as if he meant to argue but turned and left instead.

"It's unusual for you to pick a fight," Aaron commented dryly.

"Couldn't help it," Henry admitted without any particular shame. "He's like a more-more cheerful me, as a younger man."

"Cheerful?" Aaron asked archly.

"I was convinced once that I was stuck where I was and in some ways de-deserved it. I didn't even try to escape. He at least is delusional enough to think there was some righteousness in it," Henry explained. "Which only needles me more."

"And then he mentioned compulsion, which very few here would find endearing," Aaron said with a nod. "But tell me, without any modesty or dissembling, what do you actually think of how I'm training Quint?"

"I was honest before, but if you'd prefer a longer winded explanation… I think it's better he be delayed now but stronger later than have a handful of spells and no ability to adapt or grow," Henry admitted. He didn't know enough about magic to really assess Quints abilities, but he understood the value of solid foundations. "42 comes to you for magical issues for a reason. She trusts your expertise because she's given the others chances and they have not been as helpful as you."

"How annoying to find you possess more common sense than my supposed colleagues," Aaron grumbled.

"Well, that's not much of a compliment given your o-opinion of them," Henry said, chuckling. "But now you tell me, what do you think of Quint's progress?"

"He'd have been rejected by the tower. He's too old for a human and barely literate on top of that but… They were not particularly good teachers. I can't predict if he'll be ready to face the other dungeon, I know almost nothing about it, but I think he might make a middling wizard given time. If he continues his efforts diligently," Aaron said after a few moments of contemplation.

"What would a middling wizard be capable of?" Henry asked, curious. Aaron hadn't really talked much about himself but he'd made a few vague references to the mage tower before. It came up most when a new mage was summoned. He'd always find a moment to ask them personal questions. Those cryptic questions had usually resulted in him leaving in a huff without explaining himself.

"Wiping out a kingdom single handed would be a moderately difficult task for one," Aaron offered.

Henry paused, absorbing the answer rather than replying right away.

"How long would it take for him to become one, assuming he remains diligent?" Henry asked.

"Oh, several hundred years at the rate he's going. Two hundred and fifty if he were to buckle down," Aaron replied.

"Ah, well. We'll have to see how it goes," Henry replied, trying not to laugh. Humans didn't live that long. Still, even if some way to extend one's life were involved, that was a long time. Odds were the young man would die of misadventure well before reaching such a calamitous level of power.