That last week took longer to crawl on by than the rest of their time at combined. All the students, and quite a few of the instructors, could not wait for the term to end so they could move on to enjoying their holidays, or move on to starting their careers. The lucky few had received invitations to various institutions in the major cities, some had found traineeships in town, and many were already lined up for employment in the forest or the quarry. A couple had even found employment further afield, on the river or even the port town. Then there were the half dozen that had

  Whilst all three were targeted at various times by various groups to join various parties to venture to various DungeonsDungeonDungeonsVaultsVaults none

  As far as the boys went, Magdi was an aspiring DPA Fighter, Otto had already figured out how to exploit his to become the most effective Primary Spellcaster, and Reinhardt was dead weight. Well, not “dead” weight, he still had skills. But compared to the others, he was a ball and chain. For the first few runs. After the acquisition of a few items, and the purchase of some others, Reinhardt would be able to fill any role. The only thing they needed, if they needed anything at all, was a support or healer. But that wasn’t required, especially as they had the secret to making it to the armoury unmolested.

  Otto, Magdi and Reinhardt spent a lot of their time over the last week planning and acquiring the supplies they needed for a potential week-long camp out at DungeonDungeonstudienabschluss.

  Their parents, of course, knew something was up. On the afternoon of when the boys met up at Reinhardt’s after the , they found Hapthor, Hrilda and Emmaline already there. Ostensibly, they were there to help prepare a “celebratory feast” for the lads. But everybody knew - they were there to supervise, snoop, and interfere if they could. Magdi, getting jack with the tip-toeing around, decided to simply confront the elders right out of the gate. Standing in the backyard, he planted his hands on his hips and began yelling through the kitchen window at the parents clustered around the heavy table.

  “Bein that me sweet ol da dinnae wannae gift ta me a suitable counterpart ta this ‘ere ‘ammer, we be thinkin that we kin find sommat appropriate down th’back shed,” Magdi tossed his long hair over his shoulders. “If thar be sommin ye be sennermennerly attached at, ye best let us know now.”

  The boys were standing in the path leading to the back shed, Magdi looking proud and obtuse, Reinhardt looking somehow both apprehensive and a little relieved, and Otto paying them no attention, chasing a flicker of lightning through his fingers like a coin. They watched the back door, listening to the murmurs of their parents discussing their options. Of course, they had no options. The door burst open, Hapthor and Gustav strode out with the air of defiant rebels being marched to the gallows. Thor looked at Magdi and matched his stance. The three Men looked among themselves, unsure of how to react to this display of an obviously disparate culture. Reinhardt and Otto, used to the finer intricacies of Magdi’s Dwarven nature knew this wasn’t something they could intercede with, and tried to subtly signal to Gustav that he should not interfere either.

  Magdi tilted his head back, ever so subtly.

  Hapthor narrowed his right eye and arched his left eyebrow.

  Magdi pursed his lips and narrowed BOTH eyes.

  Hapthor narrowed both eyes and tilted his head forward ever so slightly.

  Magdi brought his head back to a more neutral position and relaxed his jaw, but closed his hands into fists.

  Hapthor turned his head a finger width to the right and looked at Magdi out the corner of his eye, and seemed to lean forward another hair.

  Magdi furrowed his brow and tilted his head forward a touch.

  Hapthor squinted with his left eye, relaxed his right eye and came back to his original stance.

  Magdi matched the squint and relaxed his hands.

  Hapthor squinted with both eyes and brought his head back to a neutral position.

  “Aurright,” both Dwarfs said, and clasped hands.

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  Gustav looked at Reinhardt and resignedly sighed. “I guess it’s too much to ask you boys to be careful.”

  “Of course not,” Reinhardt spread his hands.”But, we’re just headed out for the weekend, maybe a few days at most. We’ll clear the Cave, hunt the Forest and look at the Gardens. That’s it.”

  “As soon as the statues spring to life, we’ll flee and wait for the Caves to reset.” Otto shrugged, his attention now on replicating the in both hands. “We’ll get a

  “There still be things thatud kill ye in th’trees,” Thor squinted up at the young man. “Likely be, if yer not thinking there be.”

  Reinhardt shot a half glance at Otto, which was wasted as the skinny scholar was intent upon forcing his separate instances of to merge. “We do know it. We’ve been through the classes and completed the basic orienteering training,” he said to Hapthor. “Magdi and I both did quite well.”

  Hapthor just grunted. Gustav finally uncrossed his arms and looked down at his son and Magdi, and up at Otto. “Well, I know you aren’t overly reckless, and it appears that you have actually given this some thought,” he said with a grimace. “But we’re still asking you to be careful. The is dangerous enough, but a Dungeon

  Reinhardt only stopped himself from rolling his eyes with conscious effort. The entire DungeonDungeonDungeonDungeonDungeonEssence generated.

  Instead Reinhardt nodded solemnly at his father’s words and said “We’re just going to clear the Caves and collect reagents. We won’t do anything stupid - and we won’t do anything to anger the Dungeon

  With that, Gustav and Hapthor looked at each other and shrugged. Gustav rounded the boys up, herding them down to the back shed while talking all the while about the various axes and saws he had stashed down there. They all had their uses in the noble art of Forestry, but each and every one is not something a living being would want to be struck by. Thor went back to the house, muttering and grumbling in the way a Dwarf does. The shed at the bottom of the yard was a good sized 3 metre by 3 metre room, with racks and saw-horses arranged into two neat rows, each packed with a sizeable selection of tree-felling and log splitting tools. Gustav smiled fondly at the slightly dusty whackers and choppers.

  “If there’s anything in here that would help to keep you alive, you take it,” he said. “I’d rather you be best equipped to deal with anything that happens, than to hold onto an axe that Klaus’ great grandaddy made just because it was the first one I ever swung.”

  Reinhardt gazed around the dusty shed, trying to imagine what manner of weapon he would prefer. His eye fell upon a slightly different manner of “weapon.” A smallish handaxe with a slightly oversized crescent blade, and a chunky straight backed and oddly rectangular blade just over a cubit long. Gustav followed Reinhardt’s squint.

  “Dressers and machetes.” He explained. “Sometimes you just can’t get through the brambles and need to hack a path through!” Gustav went and pulled a leather sheath and a belt with a boiled birch “hoop” at the hip. He threaded the belt through the sheath, handing the ensemble to Reinhardt, waiting as his son adjusted the belt to sit comfortably on his hips. Once he was set, Gustav handed the machete and handaxe to Reinhardt, watching with a mix of pride and amusement as he struggled to sheath the blade and feed the axe handle through the wood loop.

  Magdi scooted forward with his hammer in hand. He picked up various axes of varying length, weight and beard, weighing them and tossing them from one hand to the other while alternating with his hammer. Gustav helpfully told them the history of each one, gently cleaning them and replacing them in the racks after each short, sharp grunt proclaimed them unacceptable. Finally, halfway down the second row, Magdi stopped and rubbed his eyes.

  “These’d’be dif’rent!” He exclaimed, running his fingertips across a section of axes, cutters and splitters.

  Gustav nudged Reinhardt with a wink. “Not really. Axes and splitters like all the others!”

  “Nay, not so! An’ fool’d’be seein’ these’d’be dif’rent.”

  “Oh yes, different how?” Gustav was grinning now.

  Magdi had an axe in hand, brushing the dust off the surprisingly shiny steel. “Holdin an edge, still.” His thumb polished a little makers mark stamped into the metal on the butt. He squinted at it suspiciously. He spun on his heel and brandished the axe dangerously at the others. Reinhardt imagined he could feel the breeze off the blade as it went whipping past his head.

  “These’d’all be me da’s handiwork! Since when has me dear ol da be makin wood tinkerin tools?”

  Gustav guffawed. “When he and your mother first arrived. Marched up to us, day one, and told us our tools ‘Weren’t worth a lick of spit,’ and started trying to sell us his work.” He scratched at his cheek. “I was the only one who took him seriously. Gave me that axe for free, and by the end of the next week, every logger, feller and lumberjack in the ‘wald was lining up outside Thor’s store.”

  Magdi blew the worst of the dust off the selection of still-shining steel tools. He cycled through a pair of axes and a few splitters until he found a shorter, heftier block splitter. He grinned as he put the hammer and block splitter through a few routines.

  “Ha! Turns out me da did made me a twin fer me hammer, just two decades ‘fore he had ta!” Magdi tapped the heads of his weapons together, producing a clear bell-toned ding that reverberated in the air.