They entered Ashenfall through the western gate, nodding to the guards who recognised them immediately. One of them, a middle?aged man with a greying beard, raised a hand.

  "Back already?"

  "Quest complete," Perberos said with a shrug.

  "Good. The guild hall is busy today. You will want to speak with Mich. She has been asking after your group."

  That surprised Josh slightly. Mich only ever summoned a party directly when there was something important to discuss. Not ominous, exactly, but weighty.

  The guild hall was bustling when they stepped through its doors. The scent of spiced stew drifted from the kitchens, mingling with the faint musk of old parchment and oil from the lamps. Adventurers lounged at tables, swapping stories or nursing bruises. A bard plucked a stringed instrument near the hearth, testing chords for what would no doubt become an evening performance.

  At the front desk, Mich glanced up the moment she heard the doors open. The elven receptionist’s expression brightened.

  "There you are. I was expecting you to return later than this. Come, let us handle your quest completion first."

  The party approached. Mich’s blonde hair was tied into a neat plait, her quill already poised.

  "River moss delivered yesterday, barghest hunted down and slain today, and the grisly duty from two days ago confirmed cleared. That is a lot of decent quests for this week completed." She gave them a rare, genuine smile. "You have been efficient. Very efficient."

  "We are getting the hang of things," Carcan said.

  "Speak for yourself," Brett muttered. "I am still traumatised from that river water." Carcan elbowed him gently.

  Mich dipped her quill and signed off on their paperwork. "You have risen through the ranks faster than most groups your age. In fact, that is why I was hoping to speak with you. I think you are ready for your next milestone."

  Josh exchanged a look with the others. "A milestone?"

  "Yes. The Kobold Warren. Your team would be more useful getting a few more levels first… because the undead dungeon is going badly. Parties are coming back half-broken, if they come back at all. We’re on the edge of a dungeon break, and we need people who can survive it."

  Perberos nodded slowly. "We knew we would have to face it sooner or later."

  Mich shuffled a parchment across the counter. A rough sketch of a dungeon layout took up most of the page, though the lines were faded with age.

  "This is one of Ashenfall’s primary training dungeons," she said. "Suitable for adventurers between thirteen and twenty. It is a multi?layer structure. It basically looks like a multi levelled mining structure. Though each floor is a bit different. Like the goblin dungeon, it’s a multi instance dungeon.”

  Josh leaned in. "So it is safe to enter and leave?"

  "One of the safest in the region," Mich confirmed. "The entrance chamber is a protected zone, warded by the Guild’s artificers. Adventurers can rest there if needed, though why you wouldn’t go back to the town for a rest I don’t know. Each layer increases in difficulty, with branching tunnels and nesting chambers. You will encounter different kobold tribes within the warren, each with their own hierarchy and quirks."

  Bhel scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Kobolds are not too dangerous, though?"

  "Not individually," Mich said. "But they are clever, organised, and they never fight alone. If you are careless, you will be overwhelmed."

  Josh nodded. “What types should we expect?”

  Mich tapped the illustrated kobold on the page, her expression turning instructional. “Kobolds, as a whole, are small, reptilian humanoids. Clever, fast, and annoyingly coordinated when they fight in groups. Their strength isn’t in individual power, it’s in numbers, traps, and unrelenting harassment.”

  She began counting off on her fingers.

  “Most common are the basic Tunnel Runners. Quick little pests, thin builds, grey or brown scales. They rely on darting in, jabbing with spears or using ranged attacks, then vanish before you can land a proper hit. Expect them to try to separate your formation.”

  The party leaned forward, listening.

  “Then there are the Scale-types, kobolds with reddish or darkened scales. These ones are tougher, nastier, and far more aggressive. They fight up close, using jagged bone blades and heated shard-weapons they press straight from fire crystals. If they manage to land a cut, it burns as much as it bleeds.”

  Mich’s expression hardened.

  “They don’t bother throwing things, they charge. Fast. Reckless. They swarm a shield wall and try to overwhelm it with sheer ferocity. Josh, you’ll want that shield braced the moment you see their scales shine.”

  “You may also encounter Irregulars,” Mich said, her tone tightening. “These are kobolds warped by mana surges, bad alchemy, or whatever experiments their brood mothers attempt. No two look the same.”

  She tapped the edge of the drawing, eyes narrowing.

  “Some have swollen limbs and hit like a grown orc. Others grow extra eyes, move erratically, or cling to walls like insects. A few can spit corrosive bile or emit those piercing shrieks that disorient unprepared fighters. There’s no pattern, no reliable tells, just assume they’re dangerous.”

  She looked each of them in the eye.

  “If you see something that doesn’t match the others… treat it as a threat until proven otherwise.”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Carcan nodded firmly. “Then we’ll just have to deal with them quickly.”

  Nodding, Mich moved on, “And finally,” she said, her tone tightening, “some warrens spawn Ironfangs, larger, tougher variants. Thick scales, crude armour, and enough muscle to make them genuine threats. They often act as elite guards or frontline bruisers.”

  She closed the book softly.

  “Individually, kobolds are manageable. But they swarm, flank, and trap with unsettling intelligence. Underestimate them, and they will bury you in their tunnels.”

  Josh nodded slowly. "Guards? So there are actual bosses too?"

  "Several," Mich confirmed. "Each layer has its own overseer. The final chamber contains the Warren Chieftain, and he is not to be underestimated. But you will not face him immediately. Your goal will be to take the dungeon one floor at a time. Return, rest, regroup. Progress at your own pace."

  The party stood in silence for a moment as the information settled.

  Perberos broke it first. "We are ready."

  Mich gave him a thoughtful look. "You have the skill. What you need now is teamwork and discipline. Kobolds are not like the beasts you have fought. They build traps. They set ambushes. They listen to their leaders. The goblins you fought were simpler, these monsters use their brains. It will be a proving ground for your party, but I believe you are fit for it."

  Josh’s heart quickened at the thought. A dungeon. A real dungeon. Not just monster hunts, not just gathering tasks. This was what adventuring stories were made of.

  Brett clapped him on the back. "Oi. Look at that face. You are excited."

  "Maybe a little," Josh admitted.

  Bhel leaned forward. "When do we start?"

  "Set out tomorrow?" Mich replied. "If you leave early morning you should arrive by midday. Rest tonight, purchase supplies, and prepare your gear. I will mark you as registered for dungeon access."

  She stamped their papers with a firm motion.

  "Congratulations. You are now authorised to challenge the Kobold Warren."

  Josh felt something steady settle in his chest. Determination. Drive. Purpose.

  The party exchanged nods. Brett grinned wildly. Carcan looked calm but quietly pleased. Bhel cracked his knuckles with excitement. Perberos wore the smallest, sharpest smile.

  Tomorrow, their real training would begin.

  And Josh, for the first time since arriving in Eldanar, felt more adventurer than lost newcomer.

  The party had just finished gathering their papers and turning away from Mich’s counter when a quiet voice cut through the hum of the guild hall.

  "Wait. There is something I wish to ask."

  Perberos stood still, one hand lightly touching the fletching of an arrow as if it helped him think. His yellow eyes were narrowed, focused not on the door, but on Mich.

  She raised a brow. "Yes?"

  "The troll," Perberos said. "The one we encountered weeks ago, near the caves when we were questing with Caistina. Do you know its level? I never felt certain about it, just knew it was a lot stronger than us."

  Josh blinked. He had not expected that. The memory of that first troll was one he had tried not to dwell on. A towering brute with mottled skin, breath like rotting moss, and a club carved from half a tree. Terrifying at the time. Thick-skinned, brutal, relentless. They had nearly died fighting it, and the terror had stuck with him for a long time.

  Mich tapped a finger against the desk as she thought. “The troll you encountered on the way back from the ridge? Yes, I remember the report. One moment.” She turned, retrieved a heavy ledger from the shelf behind her, and flipped rapidly through the yellowed pages. The parchment rustled in the quiet room.

  “Ah. Here. The troll killed that day was recorded as level eleven.”

  Silence crashed down.

  Brett’s jaw dropped. “Eleven!? That thing?”

  Perberos let out a low whistle. “No wonder it nearly crushed us.”

  Josh stared at her, then slowly turned to the others. “We were what, level four? Maybe five?”

  Perberos gave a stiff nod. “If that. I still remember the moment its club hit your shield and I thought your arm had snapped off.”

  Josh winced at the memory. He could still feel the jolt of that impact, the desperate scramble, Brett’s frantic chanting, Carcan dragging him upright again and again while mud and terror swallowed the world. It had been nothing but chaos, raw, choking fear wrapped in the shape of a fight.

  Brett gestured helplessly. “But the Barghest today was sixteen. Sixteen. And these Ironfang kobolds Mich just described? They’re higher level than the troll was.”

  Carcan leaned on her staff, thoughtful. “And yet we stand here. Our skills have grown. Equipment improved. Our cooperation has sharpened. We change gradually, but the past does not. Looking back… it shows just how far we have come.” A faint smile tugged at her mouth. “If we met that same troll today, Caistina would not be the only one capable of tearing it apart.”

  Josh let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. A strange mix of pride, disbelief, and something warmer stirred in his chest.

  He glanced at Perberos, who shrugged and said, matter-of-fact, “I could probably take that troll alone now.”

  Josh blinked. “You? Alone?”

  Perberos tilted his head. “Well. Maybe I’d need Brett to set its trousers on fire first.”

  Brett placed a solemn hand over his heart. “I do my best work on trousers.”

  Mich hid a smile behind her hand. "For what it is worth, many adventurers have this moment. A sudden realisation of growth, usually brought on by hearing the true level of something that once frightened them. It is normal."

  "Feels good," Josh admitted.

  Perberos nodded again, though more to himself this time. "It does. And it means the Warren will be the challenge we need. Not too easy, not too impossible. A real measure of progress."

  Carcan exhaled through her nose. "Feels strange, though. Back then, that troll felt like a boss. Now it sounds like a large nuisance."

  Brett brightened suddenly. "We should find another level eleven troll someday soon. For comparison. Like a progress test.”

  Josh gave him a flat look. "No. No troll hunts until we finish the dungeon."

  "But think of the fun."

  "No."

  Mich interjected gently, "I would recommend saving the celebratory troll-hunting until after you have, you know, completed the pressing tasks I have set for you..."

  "See?" Josh said, gesturing. "Even Mich agrees."

  Brett frowned. "But she said after, not never. That is a green light for later."

  The party groaned.

  Mich’s expression softened as she closed the ledger. "Truly, you have all come far. Do not forget that. And do not underestimate your own ability." She paused, then added, "But, as Caistina told you, do not become reckless either. Growth can make adventurers foolish if they mistake confidence for invincibility."

  Josh nodded. "We understand."

  "Good. Then rest. Tomorrow will be important."

  The group turned once more toward the guild hall’s, it’s warmth washing over them as adventurers chatted around tables. Brett hummed something victorious under his breath. Bhel looked smug. Perberos walked with a rare spring in his step.

  Josh caught Carcan’s eye as they strode out together.

  "Level eleven." Josh murmured.

  Carcan nodded slowly. "And you stood in front of it. Now you are strong enough to do so without fear. It would probably be the one bouncing off a tree, not you."

  Josh felt something settle deep inside him. Not pride exactly, but something steadier. A growing certainty.

  The troll had not changed.

  They had.

  And tomorrow, the dungeon would prove it.