“Hey, Khalik, I need your help,” Alex said suddenly, dragging his nose out of the immense tome of demonology lying before him.

The prince held up a finger as he jotted down a note, frowning at a certain passage. “Hmmm, I would have thought the air in the Domain of Cawarthin would have had a more acidic tinge to it…but it is the opposite: more slimy and basic, it seems. You will need to brew us some potions of resistance.”

“Yeah, got it,” Alex said, glancing at a Wizard’s Hand as it added another entry to the growing list of preparations he had laid out nearby.

“So, yes.” The prince looked up from his book. “What do you need help with, my friend?”

Alex sighed, flipping the list of preparations over to the other side; there, he’d recorded a list of ingredients he‘d need to craft his staff. In the centre of the list was one single item written in large letters and circled thrice:

Dungeon core essence.

“…I need you to help me raid a dungeon,” he said, his tone apologetic. “I know the timing’s pretty shit, what with Grimloch, Isolde and Thundar away right now, but I need to complete the staff before we head down to Cawarthin. I’ve been going over things in my head and I’m a little nervous about using my potion-mist.

“Oh? Aaaaah.” Khalik nodded. “The density of the air is different, the winds can be high, and the gravity is variant.”

“Exactly!” Alex raked his fingers through his madly itching beard. He had the urge to just shave the thing off. “It’s not going to be a good look on any of us if I toss a sleeping potion at a squad of demons just to have it blow back in our faces, sink to everyone’s ankles, or float into the sky. Hells, there’s a chance that there might be some unknown alchemical reaction with the bloody air, so I’d rather not find that out by blowing us up.”

“Mhm, so you need an alternate way to fight,” Khalik noted, fingers running through his own well-groomed beard.

Alex glared at it jealously. “How come his beard never itches?”

“...Alex, you said that out loud.”

“What? I did?” His face flushed. “Well, uh…well it still stands, how come it doesn’t itch?”

“It itches less as you grow it,” Khalik said. “You simply need determination.”

“Mine just seems to be itching more!” Alex scratched at his beard frantically, barely resisting the urge to hack it off right then and there and covering Khalik’s spotless floor with scraggly chestnut beard-whiskers. “I think I’m going to go mad!”

“Have you been caring for it?” Khalik asked.

“Caring for it?”

“Yes, with proper soaps? Beard oils?” The prince squinted at Alex’s beard.

“What in all the endless hells is a beard oil?” Alex asked.

Khalik winced, looking down at his friend’s beard as though it were a poor, starving animal. “Worry not, my hairy friend, I will see that your father takes care of you.”

“Why are you treating my beard like it’s an abused dog?”

“Because it is,” the prince said grimly. “But we are losing sight of the point: you need another way to fight and protect yourself. You’ve been planning to make this staff for a while, but now you need it sooner than you thought you would.”

“Yeah, that about sums it up,” Alex groaned, jerking his thumb at his own apartment through Khalik’s window behind him. On the balcony, Selina was teaching Claygon how to write faster while feeding the treacherous and spoiled Najyah morsels of fish.

Leaning against the wall nearby—still glowing with green-golden light and thick with emerald leaves—was the aeld tree branch, drinking in the sunlight, emitting feelings of contented curiosity that Alex could feel all the way across the courtyard.

He waggled his thumb toward it. “So now I need my staff, and I’ve got my first ingredient—and don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining—I just thought I’d have months to get the rest of what’s needed to craft the thing. Instead of, you know, days.”

“Hmmmm, hence the poor timing, when our forces are diminished.” The prince nodded sagely. “It is…troubling. Raiding a dungeon with just myself, you, Theresa and Claygon will be…of some risk.”

“Yeah, I know,” Alex grunted. “And trust me, I feel bloody terrible asking you this, but the proverbial crossbow’s at my temple and fate’s itching to pull the trigger. I’d hate for us to get down there and then have it turn out that I’m completely useless.”

“True, we shall need all of our power to overcome the demonic foes that await us…but to raid a dungeon with so few…considering the deadliness of the Ravener’s last attack, and how it flooded the dungeon cores with enough power to give Baelin pause…” Khalik teetered his hand back and forth. “We may not stand a chance. Then again, we might. Have you thought of asking Baelin to fetch a dungeon core for you?”

“Yeah,” Alex admitted. “But I tossed that idea aside like old cheese because—to be honest—I think he’d say no. You heard what he said about the raid on Cawarthin: we have to research the domain ourselves. You know how big he is on making us independent, I don’t see him just fetching a core for me.”

“Fair, but it costs you nothing to ask,” Khalik pointed out.

The Thameish wizard sighed. “I know…but—and before you say anything, I know this might sound completely mad—but I’d…I’d like for us to do it on our own. I have a plan, and—if it works out—I’ll be regularly raiding dungeons to harvest cores. And, the faster I start doing it, the better my plan works. It won’t be long before folk on the expedition get comfortable enough to start going after them to sell for profit. Right now, I’ve got an advantage, but it won’t last forever.”

“Mmmm, I see.” Khalik glanced at the aeld branch across the courtyard. “You’re saying if you cling to the hem of Baelin’s robe now, then you’d need to rely on him every time you went to claim a dungeon core. And that could get…complicated. And it would also make you complacent.”

“Yeah,” Alex sighed. “And I know, I know this sounds awfully bloody selfish, but I’ll use every bit of power my staff will have—and if I have any say in the matter, it’ll have loads—to help us in the hells, and for anything any of us might need, Khalik.”

“Mhmmm,” the prince said thoughtfully. “I understand. It is a risk…but if the plan is sound, then I will help you.”

“Great, thanks man!” Alex reached over, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “I promise you won’t regret it!”

“I will not have time to regret it if things turn deadly.” Khalik ran a finger through his beard. “But, I will not dwell on the negative.” He grinned suddenly. “Besides, what would be the point of wizardry if we did not use our powers for grand, foolish adventures!”

Alex laughed. “Professor Jules would wither if she heard you say that!”

“Then it is good she is not here to hear it.” Khalik’s grin widened for a moment before falling away. A deep frown took his face. “However…I do believe that there would be sense in bringing someone else into our fold for this quest. After all, we are only four: Theresa, yourself, me, Claygon…ah, six if I count Brutus and Najyah. Is there anyone you trust? What of Tyris?”

“I think she’s away for the holidays,” Alex said. “Besides, she’s…well, she’s monstrously powerful herself and Vesuvius is a titan, I can’t really bring her along without expecting her to ask for a cut of the core remains. And between you, me and Theresa…that’s already quite the split.”

“Oh?” The prince raised an eyebrow. “You were going to give me some of the dungeon core remains?”

Alex shrugged. “It’s only fair, right? I’m not going to ask you to risk your life for nothing, Khalik. You should profit too.”

“Hmmmmm,” Khalik paused, contemplating. “Interesting…I have little use for dungeon core remains: I have not studied alchemy. But if you could use your talents to craft me armour infused with earth magic, then I would be most pleased.”

“Consider it done,” Alex said. “But yeah, you see the point, right? Here, look—”

He reached into his satchel, pulled out one of his notebooks and flipped to two bookmarked pages. “Take a look at this.” Turning the book to face the prince, he pointed to a pair of diagrams on either page. “I’ve got the schematics worked out for my staff and the other project I’ll need the essence for, and—with my portion—it’ll be barely enough to do both. If we make it a four way split, then I’m going to be in trouble.”

“Mmmmmm.” Khalik squinted at the diagrams. “I see. In my eyes, a four-way split is worth it to give ourselves a greater chance to live…but there might be another way. Perhaps we could hire someone that we trust, someone who would work for a flat fee: your new job allows you to dole out quite a reward, and I would be willing to contribute to the reward to get a proper mercenary.”

“Hmmm, now there’s a thought.” Alex tapped his chin through his beard. “You know what, we have loads of mercenaries, monster hunters and members of the Delvers’ Guild on the expedition. Maybe I could—Oh bloody hell, I must be going senile! Ripp!”

“Hm? Oh, yes!” Khalik’s eyes brightened. “The swiftling monster hunter! I have spoken with him a few times. If he is willing to work for coin instead of dungeon core essence, then he would be perfect: supernaturally quick, skilled in battle and strong of nerve.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Alex nodded, liking the idea more and more. “Baelin did say I might need to hire some folk to help with one of our upcoming quests. This’d be a good chance to work with Ripp and see what he’s made of. Great idea, Khalik!”

“Thanks, now and then I have those,” the prince chuckled. “Now…as for obtaining the core itself…I think it would be folly for us to try to overpower the dungeon and all of its Ravener-spawn in a direct assault. Even with Ripp, we will be only five…seven if you count Brutus and Najyah.”

“Right, you’ll get no argument from me there,” Alex agreed. “I’m going to head to the Research Castle later on to find out if we have any information on new dungeons. If we do, then I’ll sort through the ones that the expedition hasn’t already claimed for a future raid, and pick one that might be a bit easier for us to take: like a chitterer dungeon, or something. There’s no way we’re raiding a dungeon full of Skinned Ones without an army, or a Baelin.”

“Of course, I might value courage, but I do not value throwing my life away for no reason,” Khalik grunted, his eyes lost in thought. Suddenly, they brightened. “Say…a thought occurs to me. Alex, this is a good time to tell you: I’ve reached third-tier spells.”

“Really? Oh, that’s brilliant!” The Thameish wizard cried. “Absolutely brilliant. I’m happy for you!”

“Indeed, I am happy for myself. I wanted to save it for a surprise for next semester but…this feels a little more important than showing off. But the nice thing is that I learned the Stone Shape spell recently…and with it, I think I might have a plan that will let us harvest our dungeon core, barely risk ourselves, and allow us to be back in Generasi in time for a fine supper. Interested?”

“No, of course I’m not,” Alex said sarcastically. “Why would I have any interest in plans that’ll keep us alive! Sounds a bit boring, to be honest—Of course I’m interested! What is it?”

The prince took a deep breath, laying out his tactics with all the poise and grace of a young man trained in statecraft since he learned to speak. He explained his ideas with confidence, but paused to consider the finer points of the strategy before continuing.

By the time he was finished, Alex was leaning back in his chair, eyebrows raised. “Well…that’s a damned good plan,” he gave an evil laugh. “Oh, and by the Traveller, if I was a dungeon core and someone pulled that on me, I’d be livid!”

“We will not give it time to be livid,” Khalik said, his tone satisfied and dark. “So, if you are alright with it, let us go explain the idea to Theresa and Claygon. After that, when would you like to start?”

“Honestly?” Alex shut one of his books. “If you’re free tomorrow, then the quicker I get this dungeon core essence, the quicker I’ll be able to put the staff together.”

“Then, tomorrow it is!” Khalik exclaimed. “I would offer you a drink in preparation…but I have a strong feeling that we will need all of our wits about us.”