Zeiken stared up at the stars from his room’s balcony and took a sip of his tea. It was still warm, and the faint taste of blue lotus warmed the salamander’s heart. The air was cool and crisp against his scales, but the [Doortune Teller] didn’t mind. He had a blanket wrapped around his torso that kept away the worst of the chill. In the meantime, he searched for signs of snow in the sky above and found none. That was good. Zeiken hated the stuff.

He leaned against the railing next to his door and winced, feeling a bit of tightness in his injured shoulder. There were still some marks there from the houndbear’s teeth, but Zeiken didn’t think they’d scar. His trip to Amespool had been…eventful…to say the least, but it didn’t do any good to dwell on it now. As the old saying went, all’s well that ends well.

Only, had this trip ended well? So far as Zeiken could tell, it was still somewhat up in the air. A lot was hinging on how the coming weeks played out.

The creaking sound of carriage wheels coming from the street below prompted Zeiken to look down, and the salamander whistled as Hendon Trisdale and Deina Sohrik came out to inspect them. They’d done little else but count boxes and make lists for the past few days, and Zeiken had to admit that seeing their dedication to the dungeon development committee – which was simply a dungeon circuit hiding behind a different name – was impressive.

The other two [Dungeon Masters] invoalved with the venture here in Amespool were nowhere near as dedicated to their duties. Amity, the [Woodsmith] from Yew’s Rise, spent all her time tinkering with some sort of golem contraption that looked like it was trying to defy physics.

As for Orij…well, Zeiken hadn’t even seen the elkin since that first meeting he’d arrived in the middle of. The [Doortune Teller] suspected that the hshshshshshshshshshshs – Knobs and hinges, how Zeiken hated that sound! – was locked in a room somewhere smoking himself silly in an attempt to communicate with yet another nameless horror.

Shaking his head, Zeiken closed his eyes and took another sip of his tea. Things were not progressing the way they were supposed to, but he could handle that. He’d long since made his peace with the fact that there was always a healthy degree of ambiguity for those who listened at the doors of fate, as he did. Instead, his problem was that there were constant issues and obstacles – such as the near total shutdown of commerce thanks to the bandits – that he should have foreseen but simply did not.

He blamed his dreams. Of late they’d been fuzzy, intermittent things, filled with non-sequiturs and other nonsense that had no place in his subconscious. With all the muddle, it was nearly impossible for the [Doortune Teller] to get a proper handle on things.

Swallowing the last of his tea, the salamander picked up his door, went back inside, and opened his dream journal. As he often did during periods of uncertainty, he read the last few weeks of his entries. Perhaps he’d misinterpreted something or there was a pattern to the images he hadn’t noticed before. Sadly, no issues jumped out at him.

Zeiken’s eyes grew heavy as he read – thanks to the small infusion of dream grass extract he’d added to his tea – and eventually he put down his journal and lay back, giving in to his body’s increasingly aggressive requests for sleep.

Darkness took him quickly, and Zeiken did not dream.

***

A knock at his door woke Zeiken the next morning, and the salamander opened it up to find Hendon and Deina standing outside his room. The [Dungeon Masters] looked tired, but they both inclined their heads respectfully as the salamander picked up his door and stepped out to greet them properly by opening it toward each of them.

“We have a planning meeting scheduled for this morning,” Hendon said. “Downstairs in the Auburn Room. We would appreciate it if you’d be willing to attend on behalf of Crestheart. We’ll be going over the posters for the [Dungeon Champions].”

Zeiken blinked twice. He’d known this meeting was coming, but his dreams had implied it wouldn’t be happening for another few days. Another inaccuracy.

Keeping his face neutral, Zeiken nodded. “Of course, I will be there as quickly as I can. Thank you for letting me know.”

He watched the [Dungeon Masters] leave before scurrying back into his room to get dressed and ready. After scouring his scales with hot water, he rubbed them with rose-scented oil and delicately sharpened his claws. After he finished his routine, the salamander bolted down a late breakfast – three hardboiled eggs and a clump of noodles – then stepped in front of his mirror.

Following his arrival, Deina had gifted him several lovely outfits. Ever the magnanimous host, she’d refused to accept payment for them, which was probably a good thing for Zeiken’s ever-thinning wallet. After all, the clothes were far nicer than anything he’d ever owned before them. After comparing two to each other – appearances were important during times like these – Zeiken put on a green one that was embroidered with gold thread. He checked his tail, patted down his scales one last time, and decided he was presentable. Leaving his room, he headed down to the Auburn Room through the impeccably clean hallways, nodding to the various [Maids] and [Servants] along the way.

Through the windows here and there, Zeiken saw the streets of the city around him. They were all filled with people and carriages, bustling back and forth like ants in a hive as the citizens went about their lives.

Amespool was nice, Zeiken thought. Not as nice as it would be one day, but still a sharp improvement over Oar’s Crest. The salamander shook his head as he climbed down a flight of narrow stairs. Sometimes it was difficult to live in the present when you’d seen so many glimpses of a better future.

Setting his door down next to the one for the Auburn Room, Zeiken knocked and was invited inside. All four [Dungeon Masters] were already inside, and Zeiken made his apologies for taking so long as he sat down on the far end of the circular stone table. There were several stacks of paper in the center, and Hendon started the meeting once Zeiken finished getting settled.

“I know that we’ve all been frustrated by the delays on launching our venture, but I believe that our wait will be finished soon,” he said in a booming voice that echoed around the room. “I have it on good authority that the adventurers will soon capture this alleged |Bandit King|, and the roads are sure to be clear soon after.”

“Empty talk and wishful thinking,” Orij intoned, his low voice lingering on each syllable just a hair too long. His crimson eyes glittered with menace as he pulled back his hood and looked at his peers in turn. “They were supposed to capture him weeks ago, were they not? And yet, despite their efforts, he remains free. Perhaps we should shelve this project of ours for the time being and return to it once the threat is actually handled and the roads are truly safe for commerce once more.”

Deina shook her head and reached for a stack of papers. “No chance. We’d lose too much of our investment if we tried to stop things now. Our vendors have started work, and our advertisements are set to start airing in the coming days. We’re too far along to consider stopping now.”

Orij shook his head. “I am not suggesting a complete stop. I simply think that it would be wiser to hold off on further investments for the moment.”

Amity’s whiskers were splayed as she reached over and grabbed her own stack of papers. Tapping them loudly on the desk to make it obvious that she wanted everyone’s attention, she looked over at Orij and growled, “Further investments? I reckon that I have yet to see you put anything forward, elkin. All you’ve done is drink wine and harp on irrelevant dribble.”

Zeiken winced at the vitriol in her voice, and shivered when Orij made the room go cold. To say that the two [Dungeon Masters] didn’t get along would be underselling it by a good bit. Amity was a creature of rationality, measurements and figures. She believed that anything could be taken apart and put back together. In contrast, Orij was a creature of mystery and superstition. Their incompatible worldviews seemed to be held too strongly to allow for coexistence sometimes, and for the span of several heartbeats the salamander feared that the door to the best future he'd seen would slam shut.

He’d often seen such things happen, but it never got any easier, and Zeiken tightened his claws under the table as he tried to figure out what to do next. Should he say something to try and diffuse the situation? Or would his intervention prove to be the catalyst for the outcome he so feared? Meddling in moments like these was a fraught thing.

Thankfully, Hendon saved him from having to make the difficult decision. With confidence that had to the product of a skill, the [Dungeon Master] of Sunglass Castle spoke up and defused the situation.

“Every road has its bumps,” he said. “And I won’t deny that there have already been plenty in this venture. I’m sure there will be others as we continue forward, but I believe that our efforts and sacrifices will be well worth it. Think of the wealth we all stand to gain by working together, and compare that to the minor inconvenience of these growing pains. Now, we could sit here all day arguing about the little details, but I believe our time would be better spent on productive discussion. Does that [Sound Good]?”

Even as sensitive as he was to such things, Zeiken barely noticed the nudge on his thoughts that made Hendon’s words seem perfectly reasonable. He smiled and watched the other [Dungeon Masters] while waiting for the feeling to pass, and saw a slight glassiness in their eyes that indicated that it’d worked. Orij relaxed and Amity mewed as she reached up to clean her face with her paws. Deina tapped one of her claws on the tabletop and nodded.

“I think that sounds lovely, Hendon. You’re right, we can argue later. Let’s move on to the matter at hand, which is what we’ve gotten done over the past few days.”

From there, it was all business. Taking charge once more, Hendon walked them through each sheet, going over the numbers and figures presented in painstaking detail. With his [Excellent Spreadsheet] Collum at his side, Hendon explained the various assumptions he’d made for a wide range of situations. He had estimates for advertising costs and returns, models for merchandising strategies, promotional campaign plans, and more. Whenever more complex numbers came up, he walked over to the large chalkboard against the room’s far wall and showed each step of his calculations.

It was an impressive display of business acumen, with every last possibility Zeiken could imagine addressed and comprehensively planned for. Vee could learn a lot from him, the salamander thought as Hendon extolled the virtue of [Dungeon Champion]-themed meals at local restaurants within each city. He’s always got an angle.

Finally, the discussion started winding down, and the last order of business was to go over the selection of promotional posters they’d commissioned from one of the more famous [Artists] within Amespool. Each one depicted one of the dungeon champions from the circuit-that-was-not-a-circuit, and Zeiken looked at them in turn along with everyone else.

The first depicted Imelia, the [Lady Of The Lake] [Dungeon Champion] from The Lilypad Labyrinth. She was a tall, blond woman with a sensuous smile. Hal of her body was covered in emerald scales, and her sculpted trident shimmered with magical light of the same color. She looked playful, but also dangerous, and Zeiken was sure that any adventurer underestimating her did so at their own peril.

Next was Lwayne, the [Dreamdancer] from hshshshshsh. Like Orij, Lwayne was an elkin wearing a dark robe, though his eyes were silvery white instead of crimson. A necklace of orange and purple beads hung from his neck, and instead of a proper background, he was backed by something that looked like fog. It seemed to have eyes, and Zeiken shuddered as they seemed to meet his own.

The third poster showed a massive golem with purple and red crystals coming out of its shoulders. One of its hands had been exchanged for an axe, and the other had three gemstone claws. Its eyes glowed with ruby light, and the golem was surrounded by wooden planks and crystal cannons. Beneath the golem but above the name of the dungeon were the words Unity. Precision. Perfection. Zeiken rolled his eyes. None of the other posters had little catchphrases like that.

Fourth was an image of a burly man with red hair and a thick beard. Bartholomew, the [Prismatic Paladin] from Sunglass Castle. His armor was like a mirror, and the salamander could see the entire spectrum of colors in the blade of his sword and face of his shield. He looked grave and resolute, the perfect image of bravery and dignity that all [Paladins] seemed to aspire to.

Finally, Zeiken turned his eyes to the fifth and final poster. There, he saw a black, blobby image that looked vaguely like the silhouette of an armorsoul carrying a hammer. The lack of any real details was Zeiken’s fault, as he’d forgotten to bring a reference image of Alforde for the [Artist] to use in the picture. At least Crestheart was spelled right.

On the bottom of each poster was a beautiful, flowing script.

Zeiken felt doors slamming open as he read what it said.

From Oar’s Crest to Yew’s Rise, Amespool, Old Narluc and Shontsdale, you are invited to come and witness The Dungeons Of The Future!

The words seemed to move.

Zeiken shivered once more.

Zeiken's Character Sheet:

Zeiken

Primary Class: Doortune Teller (Corridor Perpetuous) Level ???

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