Chapter Three-Hundred Twenty-Nine

    Spring is one of those seasons I often forget actually exists, probably because of where I used to live. North enough and high enough that winter would often muscle into the territory of the other seasons, and though I think Fourdock is definitely north enough, being close to the ocean makes it difficult for winter to really try to dig in its fingers and hang on.

    I also wasn’t really involved in farming, so it’s not like I had to pay attention to when crops were planted. But as I look over the expedition reports, I’d say spring is solidly, unquestionably here. Winter has been beaten back and made to sit in the corner, and summer is still a ways off. So birds are singing, bees are buzzing, and delving is booming.

    I’m not kidding, either. I thought the delvers over winter were just sticking through with their normal schedules, but that really was them taking it easy. I think most groups were doing a delve or two a week, now they’re doing long delves, day after day, as long as they don’t break anything, or get some other serious injury.

    They still happen, and though I’d like to be able to stop it, I don’t think it’d help the delvers. Even the most brutal bootcamp doesn’t actually shoot at you, so there’s always a lot in a fight that can only be theoretical knowledge. But with letting them fight enough to get seriously hurt, they learn how to deal with that kind of situation, no matter how unpleasant it is.

    I really do want to make sure my delvers are ready to take on mean dungeons and be able to not only survive, but thrive. I would be concerned about how many seem to be specializing in dealing with me, if it weren’t for the fact that so many of them probably wouldn’t be delving me at all if it weren’t for the effort I and my scions take to make sure people survive.

    There’s a lot of casual delvers, and as I read the reports coming in from the foxes, it’s not surprising to see why. Even here, people dream of what they think is impossible. Everyone wants to be that cool swordsman or wizard, the stealthy rogue, the valiant paladin, but most people have classes that definitely aren’t made for fighting.@@@@

    That doesn’t make them helpless though. A hammer strike designed to drive nails works just as well against monsters. It’s just that nails don’t often fight back. But with the safety of my territory, a lot of civilian classes like to come and test themselves. It makes me think of people who like to go paintballing or skydiving or things like that. A way to get a bit of excitement in a mostly safe way, and to keep in shape.

    Some professions are pretty simple to see applied to a delve. A carpenter knows a hammer, a lumberjack knows an axe, a tailor knows scissors. They might not sound like a weapon, but they’re just two specialized blades. Two short swords is apparently enough for at least a couple skills to translate, or maybe that one guy is just weird.

    Either way, watching the more casual delvers is probably even more fun than the pros. The experienced delvers are confident and look a lot cooler, but the casuals just have so much more to learn, and it’s fun seeing them do it. That group didn’t leave enough room in their packs, so now they can’t carry what they want, this group over here has no idea if they can handle the Gauntlet, but trying sounds fun. This other group might be getting sent out in defeat after getting lost in the tunnels and low on healing supplies.

    I wonder how many more professionals there would be if they were able to cut their teeth on a dungeon like me? I don’t know if all of the pros have lost people in their party, but I’d bet they all had at least an acquaintance that didn’t make it out of a different dungeon. That actually makes it easy to spot the new arrivals.

    With spring solidly in control, the roads are open and delvers seem to be flocking to me and to Fourdock. The ones freshly here all move carefully, suspiciously, even around the manor. Oddly, they seem to get even more on edge when the denizens avoid them. Maybe in other dungeons, the meaner things tend to keep the easier denizens away. I guess it’d make sense. Sure, I still get mana for them killing the weaker denizens, but if I wanted to maximize the mana the delvers give me, their time would be better spent fighting the big things, rather than the small fry.

    I keep them away because there’s no shortage of lower level delvers to have the easy denizens challenge instead. And it’ll encourage the stronger delvers to go to the stronger areas. Even with the forest only at... I dunno, 40%? Even with it clearly unfinished, delvers are already crawling all over it. The armory bees are a hit with the delvers almost always taking their weapons and looking joyous whenever they get some of the honey.

    From what Honey and Queen have been able to tell, it’s a lot safer to handle than the metal elixir, and I’ve seen a few delvers use it to patch up armor and sometimes weapons. Just smear a bit of mud or clay on it, apply some armory honey, and you have an instant patch! I doubt it’s as good as a professional job, but certainly better than just leaving damaged gear as it is.

    One is a concept I can feel is a pretty solid one that exists here already. It’s a type of heavy archer that feels like it usually comes from being a siege archer or similar that would stay mostly in towers or atop walls and guard whatever’s inside. The closest translation for what comes after would be a sniper, which often advances further into a variety of assassin. I don’t think she’d want to go that far, but slow rate of fire, heavy hits, and some camouflage ability would probably be a great thing if she wants to be an adventurer of some variety.

    The other one feels a lot more ephemeral, but I think I know what to solidify it into. Teamsters always make me think of the mafia, but they’re not about breaking kneecaps and making offers people can’t refuse. They’re all about getting things from point A to point B. If you want it moved, a teamster should know how to move it. And though there are merchants and other people, I’m sure, who move things around, I can feel a difference that I can’t quite describe. Maybe if I knew more about the logistics of moving things, I would, but all I really need to know is there is a difference.

    I pull back from the kobold’s status and see she looks shaken, though Aranya helps steady her. “Easy there, Marle. His touch can be intense, but not harmful.” I feel a bit bad as she nods, tears in her eyes, and I just hope she’s just trying to deal with emotions rather than pain from anything I did.

    “I can feel He has found two paths for you as well.”

    Marle turns hope filled eyes on my High Priestess as she talks. “The first is a siege archer, a ranged combat class specializing in distance and devastating ranged attacks.” Marle looks uncertain at that, so Aranya continues. “The other is an advancement for the hauler class. No one would dare demand you move something. Rather they would ask or even beg, knowing you can get it where they need it, quickly and safely. Those are the paths before you.”

    Marle looks back at her friends, looking for guidance. Without looking at their status, it’s still pretty easy to identify them as some kind of wood workers. “It’s... up to you, Marle. You could be a real adventurer, if you want,” encourages the elf, though it’s pretty clear he’d be sad to see her go. A siege archer is a pretty advanced adventuring class, and she’d probably want to take on delves a lot tougher than they could handle.

    She closes her eyes and takes a shuddering breath before opening them. “I want to advance my current class. I don’t hate hauling... I just hated being stuck.”

    Aranya smiles and draws on her mana, and I give her a drop of my power to help this along. I hope I won’t be stepping on Order’s toes with this, but Marle really does need some help. I watch her status, and see the archer path is already gone. It probably vanished as soon as she made her decision, and it makes me wonder if this is how Order actually decides what class to give people in the first place. I back out as I feel the change start to work, not wanting to intrude on her privacy more than I already have.

    From the outside, it feels incredibly anti-climactic. Just a slow wave of orange sweeping across her, and it’s done. Aranya catches her as she falls, her legs giving out as she comes to terms with the fact that things really have changed for her. “I’m a Teamster...” she mutters, repeating herself as if she can’t believe it. My High Priestess motions Marle’s friends forward, letting them support the stunned kobold.

    “Get her to a seat over there and just give her some time. She’ll need friends to help her on her new path.” The two nod with determination and focus on Marle, gently guiding her to a seat as I get a popup.

    Class Change. Interesting. I should have known.

    Order doesn’t elaborate with the message, but I get the feeling he’s more shaking his head and chuckling than frowning and grumbling. I feel like, instead of stepping on his toes, I’ve accidentally solved an issue he’s been having. Either way, I don’t get any other popups, and Aranya seems to have the situation in control here, so I let my attention wander back to the group at the dreambloom field.

    Looks like they decided the field was an illusion, and they’re all taking a nice nap right now. I nudge Goldilocks to get a few denizens and deliver them to the gates, and resume watching the delvers do their thing, feeling nicely satisfied at how things are going. There’ll be something on the horizon to try to shake things up some more eventually, but for now, I’m happy to watch the delvers work to improve themselves, seeking challenge and the rewards that come with it.