Rok was starting to grow worried, after nearly an entire day had passed and The Mapper being nowhere to be found. It shouldn’t take this long for the man, not unless this dungeon was far bigger than even he had guessed, and that was a scary thought. Every minute meant another few meters mapped out, for he was nothing if not thorough, but if he really was taking care of a sixteen, Vol forbid even seventeen, floor dungeon it might be hours yet before he heard word from the man.

Of course, things rarely went so swimmingly for Rok, and as he settled deeper into his chair determined to enjoy the lack of complaints at this dungeon being ‘unfair’ and the sudden surge of complaints at how unfair it was to not be allowed into the dungeon with The Mapper inside, a sudden blur of white startled him to his feet. The mousy man slammed down a thick, leather-bound notebook onto Rok’s desk with enough force to leave a crack, then stood tall on that very table to not touch the water in his office. It was then that the hulking crocodilian noticed the crazed look in his benefactor’s eyes.

“Twenty!” He shouted, and Rok’s heart ran cold. “Twenty floors, bound to a Nereid, the notebook has more, I have to leave!” This frantic behavior was very unlike the boisterous, jovial mouse-kin Rok was acquainted with, and he wanted to find out why.

“Mapper, what happened? Why are you in such a rush to leave?” He had more questions, but a wave of force rushed by him, ruffling the fabric of his clothes but doing little else.

“Sir Rok, please. I have much to say and I assure you, I will tell you, but not now, not without bringing attention to you that you cannot afford.” Rok was still confused, and went to ask what it was he meant.

“If you can’t talk here, then take me with you. I need to know what I have in my ‘care’ that could send even you into this state.” That seemed to give the man pause, but apparently not enough, and he was rebuked yet again.

“My wonderful, gracious host. I am to be Titled, and I’ve already delayed long enough. Please. Wait, allow me this much and I will tell you tales of this dungeon, truly a remarkable specimen.” In truth, Rok had quit listening to the man after he mentioned being Titled, stuck mulling over what he could have seen to bring this on. But, he couldn’t fault the man for his urgency, there were very few people who would want to be near someone as they got their Title, and he wasn’t one of them.

Thankfully, he needn’t say anything more, by the time he finally played over their short discussion one last time to make sure he really said being Titled and not just getting a title, The Mapper had left, gone as abruptly as he came, and Rok had no clue where he went. He shook himself out of his reverie, grabbing the brick of leather and paper that was still completely dry in spite of its very long submersion, and set to reading it.

Kelly swam by shortly after, concern etched into her features at the sudden noise but was waved off, with Jackie meeting the same treatment shortly after. Rok was simply too engrossed in poring over every immaculate word seared into the book’s pages through some strange magic.

Twenty floors, one of which the man hadn’t even visited before whatever it was happened, and a whole host of creatures that Rok couldn’t even dream up, all presented in excruciating detail. He recognized very little in the tome from his original inspection, and what he did see had itself been so amped up that he was shocked at times.

The wyvern, for instance, had stuck around after all, and he could only curse himself for not succeeding in destroying it. Not for the first time, either, but now he had proof that he had made a terrible mistake in allowing it to escape. The wyrm was also worrying, far too large for something so young, and the drake was yet another wild card he just didn’t need to deal with. For a moment, he had to wonder just how high the bounty on them was in the less above-board circles, and a shorter moment still wondering if he should, or even could, claim them.

But it wasn’t his place to do that, not anymore. He may have tried in the past, but now every action he made was subject to much more intense scrutiny by a ruling body far too big for his liking. Instead, he was stuck hoping that eventually someone would see the threat like he did, and had the means to end it, too. Until then, though, he wanted to know, and to understand every bit of this dungeon he could, and hopefully help the rest of the Guilds do the same.

He’d already started coming up with a basic plan, deciding what to release and what should be withheld, for their safety, and even his. He didn’t want to bring more attention than he could reasonably handle, after all. And, even when debating whether he should make it known that there were crystals as large as him just waiting to be plundered, Rok couldn’t help but feel that this document was not as comprehensive as it could be. Was the Mapper hiding something? Was that something what brought him enlightenment? So many questions, and apparently, too little time.

And before he could really begin ruminating on any of them, a wave of power shot through the building, a declaration coming far from the south, one that needed to be heard by anyone and anything that could hear it. It was ethereal and fleeting, but so overwhelming that it threw him into disarray for a moment, but he was too weak to really feel anything more than Vol’s elation at having granted a new Title. He had no doubt that there would be more who had heard the wordless proclamation, and he couldn’t help but thank the man for being far, far away when he made his announcement.

Of course, the fact he was close enough for someone like Rok to feel it meant he wasn’t far enough, but it was still a blessing he hadn’t been in the Hynix when he was there. He was also glad, that he likely wouldn’t be the first place the inevitable ‘celebration’ looked towards, and hopefully wouldn’t see a ‘welcoming party’ at all. But now was not the time for worries, nor was it for plans and schemes, not anymore. He put aside the frustration at the inevitable mountain of paperwork he would be submitting, set down the book, and waited for a visitor he had little doubt would keep him waiting.

And he was right, too. Yet again, with not even a rustle to announce him, the diminutive form of The Mapper was suddenly on his desk again, and Rok tried very hard to ignore the feeling of power that was rolling off of him, dispersing into the world around him. He said nothing, simply waiting for the other man to speak.

“I am dreadfully sorry, Sir Rok.” It seemed that his overly cordial personality had resurfaced, even as his expression turned stern. “But now, we need to have a chat about the Fae, and more importantly, about Aby.”