Kyrie poked her head through the door and whistled. The shrill screech drowned out all other sounds in the newsroom, though given that there was only one other person working inside at the time – Glett Haverhen, a level 36 [Field Reporter] who was furiously scribbling at his desk – it wasn’t as impressive a feat as it might otherwise have been.

Still, Glett looked up with a sour glare and waited for her to say something. When she didn’t, he sighed and ran a resigned hand through his thinning salt-and-pepper hair.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than waste my time?” he asked. “I have a deadline in four hours and I can’t figure out how to write the last bit of my article.”

“Boss wants to see you,” Kyrie said with a shrug. “Told me to bring you to her office.”

Glett grumbled and cursed, but he put down his pen all the same and got up. The boss wasn’t the type to waste his time with idle summons, so if she wanted to see him in her office it had to be important.

He just hoped it wouldn’t take too long. He hated missing deadlines.

Walking out into the hallway, Glett saw that Kyrie was dressed in her field armor instead of her usual tunic and tights. A shining silver breastplate covered her chest, and her legs were protected by a thick, plated skirt. She carried a gleaming saber in her right gauntlet, and had a heavy satchel slung over her shoulder. It was poorly packed.

“Where are you off to?” Glett asked.

“Not sure yet, boss just told me to get ready for a trip.”

Well, that was a little ominous.

They made their way down the hall, and Glett managed to keep from looking at the various plaques and awards that adorned the walls. His name was on several of them – the ones labeled Excellence In Reporting – but being reminded of what he’d once been was still too painful for him to bear, so Glett kept his eyes on the ground a few feet behind Kyrie. Just the floor and the windows, he told himself. There’s nothing else there.

The boss was at her desk rifling through a stack of reports and drafts almost as tall as she was. Her eyes whipped back and forth across each page thanks to [Extreme Speed Reading] and she held up a finger as they walked in.

“Just a second,” she said as she picked up a pen and started marking the page on the desk in front of her. Even though there were plenty of [Editors] in the office whose entire job was to provide feedback and notes on submitted stories, the boss was a firm believer in hands-on leadership and made sure to review every single piece the magazine put out.

Glett and Kyrie sat down as the boss finished covering the sheet of paper in red ink. She was a fair but firm critic, and always took as long as she needed to convey the entirety of her thoughts. Sometimes that meant that the original writer got back a list of corrections that was longer than their original piece, but that was just how it went at Continental News Monthly. The feedback was always good and made the piece better, so Glett hadn’t ever minded getting it.

The boss looked at them both and then met Glett’s eye.

“You’re working on that [Balloonbarian] biopic right?”

Glett nodded. “I’m almost done with it; I just can’t get the last bit to work properly. I should be able to turn it in before the deadline though.”

“Don’t worry about it. Turn in what you have and I’ll have Charlotte finish it up.”

Glett clenched his toes and did his best to keep his face neutral. Having a story taken away was one of the worst things that could happen to a [Journalist]—no, he reminded himself, he was just a [Field Reporter] these days – but he couldn’t afford to burn this bridge by losing his temper.

Instead, in a strained voice, he asked, “Why?”

The boss met his gaze and Glett looked away when he could no longer bear the weight of the Drive that burned within her pupils. He’d seen plenty of scary things over the twenty-seven years of his career, yet the manic light in the boss’ eyes remained the most intimidating.

“I [Have A Hunch] about dungeon sports I’d like you two to look into,” she said. "Let me explain."

As she spoke, a translucent notification appeared in front of Glett, and the [Field Reporter]’s eyes went wide as he took in all the details.

A scoop!

“I’ll do it!” he blurted out when the boss finished. She smiled.

“Give me an hour and I’ll have all my stuff ready!”

***

As far as Glett was concerned, the roads were an old friend, and his heart sang at the reunion. He’d spent years – the best years of his life, if he was being honest – traveling across the continent, chasing down leads and stories in his search for Truth. The past eighteen months of deskwork back at the office since losing his [Journalist] class and the exclusive skills it provided had been awful, but it wasn’t until he’d slept on the hard ground beneath a frigid night sky and eaten cold food that Glett realized how much he truly missed [Covering A Beat]. There was nothing else like it in all the world.

“You’re looking melancholy again,” Kyrie said as the [Field Reporter] warmed his hands by their fire. The small blaze did little to ward off the chill of early morning, but the [Refined Swordswoman] wouldn’t allow anything bigger. The bandits were mostly dealt with – what a story that must have been! – but there were still a few ragtag groups of copycats here and there trying to grab whatever crumbs of stolen wealth that they could.

“I’m fine,” Glett said as he started heating up some water for coffee. “I don’t know what sort of dungeon sport scoop could even be out here. As far as I know, there aren’t any high level dungeon ventures nearby. They’re all too new or hobby projects or something. The fact that the boss sent us out this way doesn’t make any sense.”

“Are you doubting the boss’ hunch?”

Glett shook his head. “No, of course not. It’s just that I don’t know where to start looking for a lead.”

“Well, according to the map, we’re getting closer to Old Narluc, maybe there will be something there.”

Glett doubted it, but he grunted noncommittally and the conversation died out soon after. The wind whistled through the trees as they packed up their belongings and continued on their trek, their progress sped up thanks to Kyrie’s [Forced March] and Glett’s [Follow The Lead]. They barely spoke to each other as the miles flowed past, and Glett did his best to ignore the various aches and pains in his limbs that made their presence known. Though his mind and his spirit were reinvigorated by the job he’d been assigned, his body wasn’t what it had once been. Carrying his meager luggage was surprisingly difficult, and he nearly fell to the ground when Kyrie announced that they were going to stop and take a break.

“Why didn’t you say that you were struggling to keep up?” she asked as she helped Glett sit down on a stump and handed him a purple potion from her bag. “I would have stopped earlier if I’d known.”

So as to not have to answer and admit that he hadn’t wanted to be seen as being weak, Glett took a large swig of the potion and winced as the bitter wakeberry infusion numbed his aching muscles. He felt better almost right away, but knew that he’d be better off if they didn’t resume their rapid pace again before he slept.

As if she could read his thoughts, Kyrie announced that they’d be staying put until morning, and that she’d go ahead and take first watch. Far too tired to argue, Glett eased himself down to the ground and closed his eyes.

[Sleep Easy] activated right away.

***

It took them two more days to reach Old Narluc. Glett’s feet were more blister than not as the city came into view, and they’d had to pause frequently for Kyrie to use [Minor Healing] on him. They’d also been slowed down by an attack from a trio of Shadowfang Wolves, which hadn’t been as dangerous as it should have been.

Her blade burning with refined light, Kyrie had dispatched the monsters with ease.

Old Narluc was a city carved into the side of a mountain, with a sprawling system of cave dwellings that reminded Glett of honeycomb. The air was thick and dusty, and now and then the [Field Reporter] thought he heard whispering coming from behind him. However, every time he turned around there was nobody to be seen, and Glett yearned for his lost ability to [Ignore Distractions].

The people of the city – most of whom wore dirty brown cloaks with hoods that obscured their features – wandered as if in a daze, and after a few virtually worthless attempts to draw them into conversation, an old woman with milky-gray eyes pointed to an ominous stone tower off in the distance.

“Should thou wish to learn about dungeon sports, ye would be wise to hshshshshshshsh.”

For some reason, no matter how many times Glett asked the woman to repeat it, he couldn’t understand the name of the place she was directing him to. It was as if the knowledge was too vast for his mind to comprehend, so it simply blurred the edges into something he could tolerate.

However, he did gather that whatever it was called, it was a dungeon, and that apparently the [Dungeon Master] had only recently returned from some sort of trip to discuss a venture. While he no longer had [I’ve Got A Hunch], years of experience and common sense told Glett that hshshshshshsh was the place to visit.

Kyrie kept her gauntlet on her blade as they made their way along the winding streets that seemed to writhe beneath their feet.

“I do not like this place,” she said as a dozen eyeballs on the building next to them blinked three times. “There is something foul in the air.”

“I’m not a fan of it either,” Glett said as they passed what could only be called – if the screaming was any indication – an enthusiastic ritual in a nearby clearing.

The screaming abruptly stopped. Glett shook his head.

[Cultists].

The whispering in the air grew more insistent as they approached hshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshs, and Glett found that his perception of the dungeon’s name grew longer at the same time. The building itself was unremarkable, yet it filled the [Field Reporter] with a deep sense of dread that shook him to his very core.

An elkin with crimson eyes waited for them outside. He too wore a robe, but there was something regal in his bearing that made it clear he wasn’t a regular civilian. His face was stretched into a painful grimace, as if he struggled under an invisible burden, but he lifted his hands toward them all the same as they drew close. Glett fought down the urge to recoil from the gesture.

“Greetings,” the elkin said in a dark, booming voice. “You may call me Orij. Have you come to challenge my dungeon?”

Glett shook his head. “I’m a [Field Reporter] with Continental News Monthly. I’d like to ask you a few questions, if that’s possible.”

The elkin looked past him at Kyrie and repeated his question as if he hadn’t heard Glett’s response. Only when the [Refined Swordswoman] also made clear that she was with the magazine did the strange figure return his attention to Glett.

“A question regarding the world beyond the walls of this one? Or perhaps you seek answers to something more…mundane.”

The whispering in the air fell quiet, and Glett sensed that it was the result of something the elkin did. He nodded gratefully at the lack of pressure in his thoughts and said, “Indeed, I’m here for the mundane. What can you tell me about the dungeons in this region?”

Two hours of cryptic mumbling later, the elkin finally handed over a crinkled piece of parchment with brownish-red writing on it. He didn’t dare look at it until the sprawling mess of Old Narluc was behind him, but when he did he felt an old triumphant rush.

Beneath the words “Dungeon Development Committee” were the names of four cities and notes about each of them. Glett read the just the names for now. The letters were starting to wriggle and he wanted to fold the parchment up as soon as he could.

Shontsdale.

Yew’s Rise.

Amespool.

Oar’s Crest.

The last name on the list sent a jolt down Glett’s spine, startling him. It took a moment, but he recognized it as a proc.

Grinning, the [Field Reporter] urged his Road-Weary body to press on in pursuit of this new lead.

Bonus Character Sheets:

Glett Haverhen

Primary Class: Field Reporter (Danica Molytree), Level 41

Secondary Class: Workaholic (Self), Level 40

Tertiary Class: Thrill Seeker (Self), Level 36

Additional Class: Heavy-Drinker (Self), Level 20

**ROAD-WEARY**

Might: 18

Wit: 44

Faith: 3

Honesty: 50

Integrity: 50

Endurance: 13

Focus: 29

Regret: 17

Adventurousness: 32

Greed: 14

Manipulativeness: 50

Guts: 41

Kyrie Laroux

Primary Class: Refined Swordswoman (Airutra Noblisse), Level 44

Secondary Class: Bodyguard (Danica Molytree), Level 40

Tertiary Class: Field Reporter (Danica Molytree), Level 28

Might: 51

Wit: 36

Faith: 12

Honesty: 34

Bravery: 40

Endurance: 48

Devious Mind: 22

Adventurousness: 31

Patience: 30

Guts: 45

Planning: 29

Packing: 4