Outside the Exchanger's shack, the sun had almost completely set, bathing the entire settlement in half-light. A window swung open in the upper corner of Proprietor Skole's house, lamplight flickering from within. The house was made of stone and by far the nicest building in Brix. Based on the outside, Max often wondered just how fancy the interior was...

A few guards mulled about the settlement, finishing the last of their patrols and heading towards the guardhouse. Besides the inn, this barracks-like building was the largest in camp, housing most of the 30 or so hired guards. Next to it stood Rilliard's Inn and Tavern, a long three-story building set against the palisade wall. Like most of the other constructions in Brix, it was made of dark timber harvested from the surrounding forest. The inn's windows glowed warm with activity, muffling the voices coming from inside.

As Max made his way towards the inn, he thought of the stone. Jarret's advice echoed in his head; I'm sure you could find one in Tiann City, he'd said, regarding an Evaluator. It was good advice, but Max really had no way of getting to the city. Even if he could afford to take a the time off, Proprietor Skole would never allow it, and the road east was dangerous—even for those of proper level. For someone like Max, it was downright suicidal.

He sighed.

Maybe one day he'd figure out a way to leave these mines for good. For now, however, the wide world of Alethia remained closed to him, and the mystery of the stone would to remain just that. A mystery. With some effort Max pushed it out of his mind. Besides, he'd just reached the inn's heavy wooden door.

Before he could open it, he heard a sliding sound come from the roof, and suddenly someone dropped to the ground. Max didn't even need to turn around to know it was Alby. His friend was a particularly good climber, and after work the boy often liked to scramble to the top of the inn to sit and gaze over the palisade walls.

"Yo," said Alby.

"How's the view?" asked Max.

“Clear sky, no clouds at all. I could see Tiann City in the distance!”

Max laughed. Tiann was at least a seven-day journey east. He doubted anyone could see the Tier 2 city in daytime, let alone at night. “Yeah, sure.”

“True. It’s pretty dark, but I swear I saw some twinkling in the distance." Alby grinned. "Anyways. You thirsty?”

“Do you even need to ask?”

“Hey, I heard some adventurers arrived earlier today. Maybe they’ll be friendly this time.”

“Maybe…” Max said. There were unexplored tunnels that split off and ran deep under the mines, and sometimes an adventuring party came through to hunt for treasure. Though Max had only seen a few since he started in the mines, from his experience they had nothing but disdain for common laborers like he and Alby. “But I wouldn’t get my hopes up.”

“Yeah, you're probably right..." Alby admitted, "but only one way to find out!” he finished, yanking open the tavern door.

As the two boys entered the tavern, the smell of yeast and roasting meat met them. The taphall of Rilliard’s Inn & Tavern was almost full, exhausted miners filling up the tables of varying sizes spread throughout the room. It wasn’t nearly as loud as one would expect from so many people, but there were pockets of conversations and arguments here and there. Many of the miners, however, ate in a resigned silence, replenishing their Hunger and Thirst.

A quick glance around and Max spotted the outsiders; a group of four sitting alone at a corner table. He didn’t notice any weapons, but their clothes and manner marked them out as adventurers. Much as he expected, they were hunched over a map on their table, and didn’t appear at all interested in socializing with any laborers.

At a table only a few paces away, near the bar, sat two young miners. Dalen, the chubby, red-cheeked boy, soon spotted Max and waved them over. Though Max couldn't see the face of the other miner at the table, by the back of her hair he knew it was Zaia. The girl always wove her thick brown braids into intricate designs. The four of them—Max, Alby, Zaia, and Dalen—were of similar age, and started in the mines as part of the same cohort. They'd bonded quickly; nobody could fully escape the soul-sucking nature of the work, but being part of a group made it easier to bear.

Dalen and Zaia were leaned over the table, whispering about something. Max pulled up a chair. After Alby called over the barmaster and ordered a round of Rilliard's best ale, he and Max were quietly brought into the circle of confidence.

“I bet,” Dalen was saying, “that only one of them makes it back out alive.” He jerked his head towards the adventurers.

“That’s morbid. Which one?” asked Zaia.

“Hmm.” The portly boy leaned back in his chair and stretched, glancing over at the group of adventurers as inconspicuously as he could manage—which, due to his size, wasn’t very inconspicuous at all. His chair, groaning, seemed to agree. “The mustached one. I bet he’s a rogue, with daggers up his sleeve and everything. He could slink away in the shadows if he had to. He’s my bet.”

Zaia, who was taller than any of them, only had to crane her neck a little to get a good peek. Her thin lips smirked knowingly. “The woman, definitely.”

Dalen scoffed. “You would. How long you think she's gonna last wearing robes, though? No protection."

“She’s a mage, obviously. They don’t need armor, dummy."

As the two argued, a rat found its way onto the table. Zaia noticed and produced a chunk of cheese from her clothes, which the rat proceeded to eat from her palm. After the plump creature finished, Zaia twirled her finger over its head, and the rat happily danced around at her direction.

“I’ll never understand how you do that,” said Dalen

Zaia shrugged. “They just like me, I guess. It’s like they know what I’m thinking sometimes."

“Weirdo.” Dalen turned. “Max, what do you think? About the adventurers?

“Well, I’d rather they all made it back out, but if I had to choose—” Max took a sip of ale. He’d gotten a good view of the table when he’d entered the tavern, and both Dalen and Zaia had a point. The mustached man did have a dangerous look, while mages were… well, mages. You could never count them out. Neither was his pick, though. “I’d put my coin on the big guy. Looks like he could take the most punishment.”

“Okay, but if things get bad, there’s no way he’s escaping under all that armor."

Max shrugged. “Seems like he could survive a blow from a giant’s club. That’s all I’m saying."

The others couldn’t deny that, at least. Not even Dalen, who liked to deny everything.

Next came Alby’s turn, but the sandy-haired boy wasn’t all that interested in the debate. In fact, he seemed starstruck. “I wonder what that’s like… you know, traveling all over, doing quests, fighting monsters… I wonder where they came from. Think they’re in a clan together? Maybe a guild?"

“No idea,” said Zaia

“Go ask them, fanboy,” said Dalen

Alby laughed. "Oh shut up. Being honest, they don't look too friendly."

If this adventuring party was anything like the others that had come through Brix before, it was probably true. Max rarely saw anything but indifference or outright disdain shown towards the miners. Adventurers almost always kept to themselves around here, and after several unpleasant interactions, most of the miners learned to leave them well-enough alone.

“I think,” Alby continued, “I’m going to be an adventurer someday, though. You know, once I earn enough to quit the mines. Eventually, I mean."

After a moment of silence, Zaia burst out laughing. “Here comes Alby, climber of buildings!"

“You? You’d last all of an hour,” said Dalen, shaking his head.

Max clapped his friend on the back. Secretly, he too wondered what it’d be like, exploring Alethia and slaying monsters. Every now and then, a traveling bard spent a few nights in Brix, bringing songs and stories from all around the world. Castles and kings, dragon riders and guild wars, heroes seeking meteors fallen out of the star-studded sky… it all sounded very exciting. Romantic, even. “I think once we find that gold gem, you can be anything you want to be,” he said. And he meant it.

“That's right,” Alby said. “You and me, Max. We’ll be rich. And famous. Just watch, naysayers!”

Max laughed as his friends launched into a whole new argument—whether or not Alby could survive in the harsh wilds of Alethia. For Zaia and Dalen, it wasn't a matter of "if," but a matter of "how long." That only made Alby double-down. Someone had to ascend to the Sky Throne, he said, why not one of them? He spoke with such conviction, such determination...

As Max listened, he almost tricked himself into believing such a thing was possible.