Aranya and Yvonne exchange a look when Teemo leads Tarl out, and it’s not difficult to tell what they’re thinking. Something spooked him, and spooked him good. I just can’t imagine what. He was unhappy about the affinity broadening, but I think this is something well beyond that.

Teemo quickly returns once Tarl is gone, and he doesn’t waste any time.

“What do you think has him worried?” he asks my Residents, but they can both only shrug.

“Whatever it was, it was plain as soon as he laid eyes on the core,” points out Yvonne, and Aranya nods before giving her two cents.

“Nothing about the core seems out of line with the legends, but I haven’t seen any other cores to be able to compare. The inspector has probably seen more cores than even most in his field. He’s pretty knowledgeable, it seems.”

Yeah, which makes me concerned. Do I have core cancer or something? I think he’d tell us if that was the case. I just hope that whatever scared him is something he can keep secret. If he entered a gaeas with me over information, he’s probably entered one with his guild, too.

Tarl

The elf lets his feet slowly guide him home as his mind races. Even so late at night, Fourdock is safe enough that he doesn’t have to worry about potential muggers trying to stop him… and generally low enough level he wouldn’t need to worry about muggers who actually might try.

It’s part of why he likes it here. It’s quiet, for the most part. Sure, there was Neverrest, and Hullbreak, but the cemetery was mostly contained. Even with the painful memories from Hullbreak, it’s content to keep to itself and ignore the world around it.

After what he saw in Thedeim’s core, though… he worries for the peace and quiet of not only the town, but the kingdom as well. Maybe even the world. He shakes himself to keep his imagination from running away from him, and tries to process what he saw in the core.

He had heard that Fate affinity dungeons could produce visions, but he never expected Thedeim to give him one. If only he could fathom what he saw. It started simple enough. The layered swirling orange depths almost seemed to part, and showed him… he’s not sure.

Perhaps even stranger is that it didn’t seem to be deliberately done. Teemo didn’t give him any cryptic or sarcastic clues to what he saw. There were no knowing looks from the Residents from having their own visions. He’s just glad they didn’t try to press why he needed to go. It wasn’t his most subtle of exits, but he needed to get some fresh air and try to make sense of what he saw.

It hurts to try to remember the details, so Tarl tries to focus more on the big picture. Teemo has talked about being hurt from trying to understand some of the things Thedeim does and thinks, and the elf isn’t in a hurry to test how resistant he is to mental damage. So what can he understand about what he saw?

Danger, for starters. The talk of expanding the affinities available to his scions may only be scratching the surface of the danger that Thedeim poses. And yet, despite the intense feeling of danger, he gets very little feeling of threat from the dungeon. After all his experience inspecting, he trusts his gut when it splits hairs like that. It was almost the opposite as with Neverrest, come to think of it. The cemetery dungeon always gave off an aura of threat, but very little actual danger to back the threat up, scions aside.

His thoughts continue to race as he enters his small home, and his body practically moves on its own as he gets out of his work clothes and into his breeches to sleep. He closes his eyes, trying to get some rest, even as his mind continues to race.

Neverrest wanted destruction, but never truly had the power to back it up. So does Thedeim have that kind of power? It doesn’t take him long to admit that yes… he does. Just the number of scions the dungeon has gives him incredible power, and none of them are slouches when it comes to strength! And that’s just the known capabilities. He’ll be shocked if the other scions don’t have secret levels of power they can tap into like Poe did.

Even Teemo probably has a few tricks to let him punch well above his level, and that’s not even counting the insanity of expanding affinities!

He grumbles and tosses in bed, hoping maybe he’ll find a comfortable enough position to take his mind off of Thedeim, but he’s not too hopeful. He tries a different tactic to get some sleep tonight, and tries to focus more on the mundanity of most of the secret areas in the dungeon.

The alchemy lab, while busy, isn’t anything for him to get too worked up over. Even with the cryptic remark about the metal transmutation elixir, he’s not too worried about it. Petrification is a rare thing, but not outside reason. Curing being metallic should be similar to curing petrification, and that’s even assuming Thedeim would ever use the stuff like that.

It seems a bit difficult to manufacture, so even if he did want to fill pitfalls with the liquid, it’ll be a long time before he’ll have enough to do that, and he doubts Thedeim would want a trap like that.

The enchanting lab is also something to help ease his mind. Maybe Thedeim will stay focused on a counter to lifedrinking. It’ll probably keep him out of trouble for a bit, and if he actually succeeds, that’ll be a positive for the world as a whole.

He relaxes slightly at that thought, finally letting some of the tension out of his muscles. He can feel his mind finally starting to drift, and he nudges it to Thedeim’s core itself. If anything will help him sleep, it’ll be thinking about the inanity of core composition theory.

He chuckles in bed as he thinks about the arguments just about spheres. He couldn’t have been a shape that adherents of the theory agree about, could he? Facets of a core are generally taken to be how complex the thought of a dungeon is, how many ways it tries to approach a problem.

Spheres and eggs and other round shapes are always argued, as some think it means there’s only one facet, while others argue they’re theoretically infinite facets. Someone once tried to show him the math behind it, but the equation took up an entire wall of chalkboards, and Tarl had better things to do with his time.

He finally drifts off to sleep as the theories of colors and movement of those colors drift through his mind, and his sleep is deep and dreamless. In the morning, he feels much better and the details of his vision are comfortably muddled. If that’s the kind of thing people with Fate affinity have to deal with regularly, they can keep it.

He goes over his notes as he enjoys the morning air and the rising sun, mentally mapping out what he can and can’t put in the report. He’s glad nothing clashes with his promises to the guild or to Thedeim. Sure, there’s dangerous stuff in the dungeon, but that’s dungeons. As far as he’s concerned, there’s no actual threat, so no obligation to play word games to get the guild extra information.

His preparations for work are interrupted, however, as he gets close to the guild. Sitting on the sign is a seagull, squawking its little bird brain out. As he looks, curious, he also notices it has a scrap of parchment in its beak, too. It eventually notices him noticing it, and gives a louder squawk before dropping the paper and flying off.

His instincts tell him there’s something odd, and so he spends a few minutes searching for the dropped paper. He gives it a shocked look after reading it, and reads it a few times to make sure he’s not misunderstanding. He even takes the time to examine it to make sure it’s not just some joke… but everything seems to check out.

He briefly considers just destroying the note, but soon sighs and just stuffs it into his pocket and heads inside. He doesn’t like Hullbreak Harbor, but he can’t bring himself to hate it, either. And even if he did, he doesn’t bear the dwellers any ill will. If their dungeon really is starting to starve, something will need to be done.