Despite Casimir half expecting pirates to continue the trend of his students being trouble magnets, the trip to the mainland went by without incident. The Vault of Redoubt was a port carved into a cliff face, initially founded by some dwarven kingdom and named after the forge god but it had eventually become an independent city-state as it survived when the rest of that kingdom didn’t. It had lower taxes on importing goods via boat, so it was the preferred stop for independent merchants like Captain Coastspear, who dealt with the local merchants and caravaneers to ship their goods deeper into the mainland… or just sold to them outright.

Whichever Captain Coastspear had in mind for his shipment of enchanted swords, Casimir didn’t know nor care. Tossing one last pouch of coins into the elf’s outstretched hand, Casimir walked down the gangplank, carrying his crate of potions to the customs checkpoint.

. “Next lesson about traveling:” Casimir explained to his students. “Everywhere has customs agents. Don’t avoid them. However, there’s a reason why Adventurers are called that rather than, say, monster hunters.” As a major trade port, the lines at the customs station for people who come in as passengers rather than the line for ship captains who need inspectors to come onto their boat were long, but they had multiple clerks that moved with reasonable efficiency. “We get to freely go through national borders as long as it’s on guild business. That’s why I had the guild give you those relocation requests.” The Adventurer’s guild had a pretty large amount of control over where an adventurer could get work, including going as far as insisting they go to a region that needed more and restricting them to only work there for some amount of time. Something that specific was rare, though, as it required multiple guildmasters coordinating. Usually it was just one guildmaster forbidding some adventurers from taking jobs at their location, due to there being not enough quests to go around. That was all that was needed to let the kids go through customs though.

When the group got to the front of the line, Casimir set his crate down and brought out a sheaf of paper from his bag. Without a word, he passed the customs clerk their guild paperwork and the quest paperwork that the Helelites drew up.

After going through the forms, the dwarven lady took out a form from her deck drawer. “So if I have this straight, you’re putting a whole crate of potions as quest expenses?” She seemed skeptical.

“I’m not about to get on the Ancient Deepdweller’s shitlist just for a few gold pieces.” Casimir explained. “You did read the rubbing, right? Here’s the original.” He withdrew the glass sheet that he had previously spared the agent with the trouble of having to view. They were a little hard to read if you were too used to reading black ink on paper. “Right there, quest use only, with an Archdruid’s seal.” It wasn’t exactly enforceable, but if any malfeasance on Casimir’s part did come to light, Hana would be the one paying for it.

The customs agent weighed the odds of him trying to pull a fast one on her, then eventually decided that it wasn’t her problem. She picked up her intricate stamp and approved the paperwork, and waved them away without a single coin exchanged.

The town was structured in thirteen tiers, with the dockyards and ports at the bottom, and each level growing wider as the cliff parted, as if the cliff was cleaved open by a Titan’s axe. A giant pillar grew from the bottom in the dead center of the fissure. According to legends, the god Redoubt did so and then placed powerful treasures at the bottom of the pillar, creating a clan of dwarves to forever protect Redoubt’s wealth. How much of that was true was… iffy. No one can detect any kind of chamber beneath the pillar, and the name of this supposed clan of dwarves was lost to history, so who could tell? Wooden bridges and platforms connected the sides of the cliff to each other and the pillar, some of the bridges were also ramps that connected tiers with each other.

“So where are we going from here?” Illivere asked as they walked through the streets of Redoubt.

“First, we’re going to pick up some local food.” Casimir said. “Then, after a stop at the local guild, it’s off to Krallent. It’s the second closest Adventuring guild to where my quest lead is, so you guys are going to get some experience hunting monsters around there while I do my quest. Ideally, you’ll get the chance to pick up a few quests everywhere we go.”

Turning word to deed, Casimir stopped at a food stand, a pair of dwarven grandmothers and one middle-aged dwarf lady carefully placing each ingredient in the flatbread before folding it into the traditional tube shape, putting the partially-cooked meal onto the hot metal griddle as two of what was probably their teenage grandchildren took orders and passed out the food, occasionally wrapping them up in paper and twine for people with big orders. A clean-shaven dwarven man (a fashion statement that proudly proclaimed his profession as a cook) placed one of the metal presses on top of each pair of mealbreads, took the cooked food out, all the while keeping a keen eye on the teenagers and the customers between tending the fire and handling food.

“What’s the flavor of the day?” Casimir asked the man in Dwarven when they had gotten close enough in line to not be shouting.

“Spicy with a smooth sourness. It has lamb, goat cream, and oilnut.” The dwarf replied quickly without looking at Casimir. The mealbreads had more ingredients than that, but spirit mages frequently had issues with meat and dairy products, either particular ones or in general, and some people were just allergic to oilnut.

Casimir turned to his students. “I don’t think I’ve ever served milk to y’all, Master can’t have any. Any issues?” At four negative head shakes, Casimir ordered a dozen once he got to the front of the line. The people behind their group in line groaned, but the efficiency of a family food stand during the lunch rush can’t be underestimated and they were on their way within three minutes of Casimir paying for the food.

“You really like this kind of food, don’t you?” Faron observed as they made their way to the adventurer’s guild.

“Guilty.” Casimir replied. “Like, there’s something I like from every culture I’ve spent some time among, but most of the time we ate dwarven food because Magnus was the one who cooked.” He gestured to the surrounding crowd. “Dwarves are half the population of this whole region, so even the places that aren’t run by dwarves tend to use the same ingredients the dwarven places do. Lots of beans.”

“What elven food do you like?” Faron asked, curious.

“Ah, I’m a fan of that meat cooked with those sand ovens.” Casimir said, reminiscing about the last time he had some. “All those fruity flavors infused into the sauce, delicious.”

Faron snorted. “Everyone always says that.”

“That’s because it’s good food.” Casimir insisted. “Just because it’s expensive party food doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to declare it your favorite.” Also, Adventurers as a rule loved spending their money on banquets. “Maintaining your mana cultivation requires a rich diet, you know. Meat is innately more mana-rich than vegetables and grains from the same area.”

“Is that going to be a problem?” Hanna asked. “Lower mana content in the food than we can get in Anima?”

“Nah.” Casimir said, waving off her concern. “Not only is it a smaller issue for spirit-blooded people like yourself, but you’d need to have some pretty terrible eating habits to backslide noticeably. Just eat plenty of meat and you’ll be fine.” That wasn’t entirely true, the subject was more complex than that. But pretty much all farmers understood that mana content in their food was important, so unless you specifically aimed to buy the cheapest possible food, getting food with adequate mana levels was not difficult. In certain wild areas, if you were foraging… that’s where it gets difficult.

The Adventurer’s guild in Vault of Redoubt was, like most old structures in the place, carved from the stone of the cliff on the seventh tier. The interior was… pretty standard. Long desk with multiple spots for bureaucrats to sit, tables, some booths, overall looking like a customs house with half the waiting area converted into a tavern. Adventurer’s guilds usually also operated as inns for members and public taverns, serving just enough food and beer to get the adventurers to socialize there, amongst each other, while also allowing the community to intermingle with them. Lots of guild halls were terrible at it, but the furniture here looked sturdy and well maintained, and there were plenty of butts in seats, so that was a good sign.

The crowd mostly ignored Casimir’s arrival, which confirmed to him that this place was busy enough that new faces didn’t rate much interest to the locals. Still, he put a bit of swagger into his steps as he approached the front desk. He passed the wrapped mealbreads to Peter and the potion crate to Faron. “Go get us a table and dig in. Save three for me.” With the ducklings handled, Casimir fished out more paperwork and presented it to the bureaucrat.

The front desk worker, there was only one at this time of day, was a middle-aged human who was visibly annoyed to be the one who has to man the desk while everyone else has lunch. Nevertheless, he took the paperwork without hesitation. “Is there any additional information about this quest available? Come in the last three days? Anyone decide to join in?” Casimir asked.

The man stared at it, before sighing and getting up to go into a back room. “...I’ll need to check the files.” The Adventurer’s guild couldn’t transport paperwork any faster than a courier could run it, but there was something of a network of messaging spells that major guild halls, like this one, could receive information about and just write it down as it came. High-ranking open quests like this one spread everywhere. After about five minutes, he returned. “Yeah, some vet’s picked up on it, but he’s not high enough rank to hack it solo. Want a Fighter?”

Casimir hummed. That must be David. “Assuming that’s who I think it is, yeah. Mr. Smith?”

“Dead on. He’s days away from here, though.” The desk jockey answered as he settled back into his chair. “He’s at that big new dungeon with everyone else.”

“Tell him to go to Krallent.” Casimir said after a moment. “Do you have any quests between here and there? If it’s low-ranking I’ll just give it to my students.”

“Probably not, we’re pretty well-covered. You’re not the only one who checks in while you’re passing through, and we get a lot of through traffic here.” He said, but went and picked up a pile of papers in a bin at one of his coworker’s sections. He frowned at the hefty pile in his hand. “This woman, I swear…” After rifling through them, he pulled one out. “Okay, I did find this: unconfirmed reports of kobolds from Yellow Valley.” Casimir stared blankly. “It’s this bit of farmland just a little ways out of your way if you’re headed up to Krallent. Confirm the report, or wipe them out, I don’t care. It’s a novice mission, but that's all I got.”

Casimir thought for a moment. Was it a coincidence? Kobolds were actually the native tribes here, so probably… Ah, he’s going to feel like an idiot if he skipped it and it turned out these kobolds were related to the other kobolds Magnus and Luci were bossing around. “I’ll take it. They could use some scouting experience.”

The bureaucrat snorted. “Fantastic. I’ll need a few minutes to turn this report into a quest, go eat your lunch and come back later.”

Casimir returned to his students to find them chatting with a group of dwarves with one red-feathered aviost at the other side of the large table.

“-and that’s where you can find the finest cheese in a thousand miles.” one of the female dwarves finished. “Smells like Durnast’s taint but it’s just so good!” That must be a powerful stench, to invoke the name of the god of swamps.

Hanna seemed particularly interested in the stinky cheese. “We’ll be sure to stop by once we’re there.” She promised. “Professor, will we be returning this way?”

Casimir shrugged. “Maybe. I wouldn’t count on it, there’s a good chance we’ll end up chartering our next boat at one of the ports further to the west.” If they get lucky and have his former friends be actively hiding out at the first place he’s looking, that’s pretty much the only way they’ll be going through this port on the way back to Anima.

The dwarf made a disappointed sound. “Aw. Well, tell Edna that I said hi if you stop by.” She held out her hand to Casimir in greeting. “Nice to meet you, Professor Toomes. I’m Grenda Stonecutter, and these are my teammates. We’re the Skullcleavers.”

Casimir tried to remember if he had heard of them before. He failed. “Nice to meet you all.” He replied politely. “You all look pretty experienced. Veteran rank?” He asked before eating his food.

The aviost replied. “Most of us, yes. Coalpounder there failed the advancement exam.” She said, trilling in their equivalent to a giggle as she pointed out her teammates' failings.

“Ah shaddup.” Said the heavily scarred dwarf. Whatever happened to him, he had the telltale signs of effective but inexpert regeneration magic, as his eye was fine despite the heavy scarring and his eyebrow was growing out of the scar rather than being bare. Some people wanted to keep the scars, in Casimir’s experience, but the hairy scar look was just silly in his opinion.

“I’m sure you’ll get it next time.” Casimir assured the dwarf. “Even if you don’t, back when I still was part of a team, we had a member that was a rank behind everyone. He still made valuable contributions to the team.” Specifically, David contributed by hitting things really hard. He’ll be a big help against whatever Magnus and Luci have backing them.

The dwarf didn’t say anything, but he seemed less sour after his teammates agreed with Casimir’s statement. From their comments, he was apparently a forge-priest of Redoubt. Now those were some useful miracles. Call Arms and Armor alone…

“So what brings you to this part of the world?” Grenda asked. “Are you going for the big dungeon rush too?”

Casimir snorted dismissively. “We’re way too late to try that. I’m just hunting a tricky bounty. A mummy and a wraith.”

Mr. Coalpounder instantly understood Caismir. “There’s a fallen priest among the Dross?” That was the term the forge-priests used for undead monsters, as they held a particular hatred for the mockeries of the living they represented. “I offer my aid in your noble quest.”

“I do appreciate it.” Casimir replied. “But I must decline. I don’t know where they’ve run off to, and it could take weeks of following rumors.” He took another bite out of his food. After swallowing, he continued. “If they turn out to be near here, I’ll be sure to remember you when I go to get backup.” That was only halfway a lie. While inviting fresh veterans would be accepting that there will be casualties… tasking them on keeping his students out of the battle would be a huge help.

“...I suppose that’s all I can ask.” The priest said in response, avoiding eye contact as he withdrew his offer. Casimir didn’t blame him, it was one thing to volunteer for a fight, but to volunteer for weeks of investigation? Quite different.

“Good.” Said the other female dwarf. “I’m not about to get anyone killed trying to keep up with the Last Gasp over there.” Oh, one of them did recognize him. The other Skullcleavers looked more appraisingly at Casimir’s sea-worthy equipment, noting the quality of the materials and enchantments. For a primary set of equipment, it could be mistaken for a veteran rank’s gear. As this was a suit he only wore when he had to swim or get on a boat, it was made with an eye to cost efficiency. It was mostly made from tormentor silk like the padding for his dragonhide set, but the stiffer leather panels were made from shredder scales, an apex predator of a monster that cut through water at speeds that ordinary swimming spells could not outpace. Needless to say, it was substantially cheaper than dragonhide.

Casimir gave the group a grin as he finished the last of his meal. “I’m not saying a veteran team wouldn’t be useful as backup… but yeah, it’s probably for the best that you stay out of it.”

“Teach is the best!” Peter declared. “It took us ages to even touch him, even when we were all ganging up on him, with a handicap!”

“Do not finish that story.” Casimir interrupted. “They don’t need to know how you eventually managed it.” Being somewhat more susceptible to mind magic was information that definitely should not get out.

“Sounds like an embarrassing story.” Said the dwarf that was silent until now. “But we shant be asking for it. Come on, I think the client just walked in.”

With that conversation over, Casimir took his students to the front desk, accepted the quest, and left to do some last-minute shopping for supplies. Boring, but it had to be done.