We both left the cleaning facility buildings in high spirits. We had a rough day, but it all was going to pay off, as we had scrounged enough for booze and food. Ultimately, that was all it took to make a student happy.

  We made our way to our dorm to drop our gear off and we parted ways, each of us having our own tasks to get done before tonight. I split the coinage with Myth, trying my best for an even split. Even split it was a goodly amount.

  She thanked me again with a big hug, which I begrudgingly accepted, and took off on whatever it was that Myth did in her off time. I didn't largely care what all my roommates did outside of our joint class work, and when we shared side jobs together, which was thankfully rare. I decided tonight was a good night to dress up a bit, seedy tavern or no. Sometimes you just want to feel fancy.

  Even if you knew no one would appreciate it outside yourself. My roommates had about as much sense of class and style as one could expect from folks of their background, I suppose, and the idea of any kind of romantic interludes with anyone I knew it town made my skin crawl.

  I didn't exactly dislike my roommates, and I know a lot of folks believe I do. Some things rankled me about them, and my words to them came off as harsh more often than not. I just don't mesh with them that well. We came from very different worlds after all, and it had only really been a few months since I found myself thrust out of mine.

  Only a few months. It felt like years at this point. I adapted as quickly as I could. You had to. Far from home, from the life I had known, the family I thought cared for me, all the comforts and luxuries. Now I was just another face in the crowd of a bunch of outcasts and downtrodden, hoping for some kind of chance at a life outside of serving nobility, toiling the fields, or dying in some war against the monsters that plagued the world.

  My sisters and brothers taught me a lot of lessons growing up that helped. I think they knew, as the 5th daughter, that I had no chance of really inheriting anything. I didn't have a head for finance, the grit for the military, and a definite lack of piety for the church. I didn't seem to care much for the idea of suitors, which at my age was about the only thing I was destined to be good for.

  So they taught me things. The sword, the spell, diplomacy, and basic day-to-day things. The servants even taught me things, cleaning, cooking and the like. Thinking back on it, I wonder if they knew something I didn't, and my disgrace was more inevitable than I thought.

  I often wonder if my elder sister was so hard on me because she didn't want me to miss the family too much when my parents threw me out. If that was the case, it worked. Whenever I searched for some sort of sentiment, all I found was bitter resentment in its place.

  No matter. What's done is done, and all things considered, I was happier now on my own than I had been then. I stood in front of the mirror and considered the glass doppelganger for a moment, sorting through my mental inventory of my attire choices.

  If there was one real advantage to being perpetually broke, it was that it saved time on having to make fashion choices. On the one hand, I wanted to be fancy, but on the other hand, I wanted to be rowdy.

  I chose a nice flowing peasant dress in a simple brown color and some leggings to fight off the inevitable evening chill. Flattering to my figure, but the right color so that any stains wouldn't be immediately obvious till I could get it cleaned. As a simple accent, I added some little gold earrings. They weren't really gold, looked close enough that no one would notice, and gods forbid they got stolen, I wouldn't be broken up about it.

  At most they had sentimental value. They were a gift of the innkeeper's son at the place I stayed when I first made it to Revenstahd, the city-state in which Dungeon School resided. A lovely little inn called The Jeweled Bower. They let me stay there for free in exchange for helping with cleaning rooms. After I got approval to become a Dungeoneering student, he gave me these as a congratulatory gift and then wished me luck. I think that was the first time I ever got real encouragement. Or at least it was the first time it meant something to me. It had the added value of accentuating my pointed ears. If there was one point of pride I had about my genetics, my ears were quite fetching even amongst other elves.

  I need to visit her again. She was nice and even though I had only been with them a short time, the warmth of that inn was missed.

  Enough sentiment. I finished dressing and added a belt knife just in case. Most folks knew better, but when drinking was involved, some people's wits and hands got away from them.

  I quickly headed down the few flights of stairs in our dorm house and made my way into town, the sun just starting to dip and the lamp lighters were already at work. I resisted the urge to smack myself in the face, suddenly remembering I forgot to steal the strange torches I saw in the dungeon. Ah well. There was next time. So many next times to look forward to.

  Revenstahd at night was a sight to behold. Not only the lights, but the sheer variety of people. Revenstahd had a remarkable position at the intersection of a triad of rivers that met at the borders of four different countries. It had started out as a trade hub for the river boat merchants, and when dungeons had been found there in abundance,e it turned into a hub for adventurers looking to delve for treasures. As time went on, it became a center for research into the dungeon phenomena, and eventually turned into what it is now. A city dedicated to trade and dungeons.

  There were 12 dungeons in total around the outskirts of the city. None particularly deep or dangerous, but consistent enough to make research and training easier. As dungeoneering was considered a job for failed mages, academics, and knights, it led to the city being full of all kinds of colorful characters.

  People from every country, major or minor, could be found here. All sorts of walks of life and species. A mix of elves, humans, dwarves, drakekin, goblins, orcs, stonefolk, bastetians, and even Kobolds called this place home. Dungeon School didn't discriminate like some academies, which encouraged a variety of people in the city.

  Speaking of Kobolds, outside our bar of choice, The Sweet and Sour Goat, was a large white furred kobold that was all too familiar to me. She turned and waved at me excitedly, her tail wagging for all it was worth. I noticed she was carrying a bag with books poking out the top. I held back a sigh. She had been adding to her hoard again.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  She greeted me with a big hug, burying me in her thick fur, which thankfully she had just had cleaned today, as it smelt of summer and flowers instead of whatever her delve had her crawling through. Kobold fur was notoriously hard to take care of, and she tried her best but it didn't always work.

  She was also one of the few of our roommates I allowed to hug me. By which I mean I let her initiate it. I liked being the hugger, not the hugged, but for Smitty, I relented. So fluffy!

  "Yay! You are early friend Alta, yes yes! I shall show you my treasures!" She released me from the hug and indicated her bag of books.

  Kobolds had a penchant for hoarding things. Legends of her kind always made this very clear, but when I met her, I found that it was not always gold, jewels, or other such valuables. What a kobold considered a treasure varied between individuals. In Smitty's case, she hoarded romance novels. The smuttier the better.

  She didn't read them. She had a lot of trouble turning the pages, and she found the letters too small; and her grasp of the common written language was tenuous. She liked the art on the front. Apparently, in kobold culture, the height of comedy was clothing falling off, so she found great humor in the semi-undressed state of the characters on the cover.

  She tried to explain it once, but it didn't make a bit of sense, but she was having fun, so I don't judge. If I had one complaint it was her collection taking up so much space in the dorm.

  After we claimed a table, she showed me each of her acquisitions. She was always so excited to share with all of us. It was important to her and her culture to show off her treasures, and I was happy to indulge her. This, in her mind, made me and the rest of our dorm room part of her pack, which meant she would fight ferociously alongside us. Which is exactly what we needed for dungeon delving. Kobolds are masterful tunnel fighters, which is why I was glad for her company.

  Thinking about it, all the varieties of Kobold were. Though only the humanoid hounds we call kobolds still use the name, there were several species throughout history that were called kobolds. Due to strange linguistic origins at one time, three major species still claimed the name actively, but spelled it differently. Kobolds, Koubalds, and Cobouldes. Kobolds were the hound-like ones like Smitty, Koubalds were a lizard-like folk that later called themselves Drakekin, and Cobouldes later became called Goblins. This happened centuries ago, though, so the current terms for all of them were settled.

  My brain snapped back to attention as our other roommates finally joined us.

  Myth's expression was back to its usual blissful half smile, and judging by the smell I picked up, she had topped up on whatever herbs she imbibed. I needed to ask her about those at some point. I wasn't too knowledgeable on pharmacopeia, but if it came down to having to do field medicine on her, I didn't want to accidentally poison her due to something in her little smoke potion.

  I had half expected her to dress up like me, but she wore the same thing she always did, green pants and a vest top. Her hair was at least clean and combed unlike usual.

  She waved as she joined us, a human in tow behind her. This was Cori, a perpetually elusive part of our erstwhile band. She was short for a human. Close-cut sandy hair, freckles, hazel eyes, and eyes constantly looking about. Despite it being a night out, she still had on her light leather armor. She was a paranoid sort.

  She got up before the rest of us and got back after many of us had gone to sleep. I never really pried into what she was doing, as it wasn't any of my business. Many folks had circumstances that didn't need poking at. Nobody in our group asked about my situation, and I respected their privacy similarly.

  It was a nice system, I felt. All we needed to know about each other was what we brought to the metaphorical table. The literal table was what was important, and we waved over the server to start ordering.

  In no time, we had all kinds of delicious foods and big overflowing steins of cheap but tasty beer. It seemed other students had a similar idea, and the bar was soon full of patrons laughing, eating, and drinking.

  "So, how did you all fare today?" I asked after we had sated our hunger and had a few drinks in us.

  "We did okay, yes yes! I got to stab monsters, and Cori opened many doors and chests with her little metal sticks, she did! We got many treasures!" Smitty responded happily, while Cori blushed at the praise.

  "It weren't nothing special! Ah would've gotten et if'n you hadn't been there Smitty! Those imps were almost on me, when she skewered them like they was river fish!" Cori blurted, a blush reddening her entire face.

  "We had a close one ourselves! I totally froze up, and Alta had to be my knight in shining armor and save me!" Myth giggled. It was good that she could laugh about it. She shrugged off her missteps better than I did. Maybe it was the booze or herbs or something that helped her, but I found I was envious.

  We regaled each other with tales of our respective quests, mine and myth in the Tower of Blood and Ash, theirs in the Pit of Icy Terror, which we all agree were not fitting names for either of them, and we laughed and drank and ate and drank some more. At some point, I had lost track of how much beer exactly I had drunk. But I felt good, alive, and I was surrounded by friends. I could feel the drunken blush go all the way to the tips of my ears. I didn't care how silly or drunk I was, I was just glad to be in the moment.

  -

  I groaned as the first light of day struck my face as if it had some sort of personal grudge against me. And judging by the headache that went from my temples to my teeth, it definitely did. Whoever said elves couldn't get hangovers was a damned liar and deserved to be drowned in a barrel of rotgut whiskey. I sat up, my body and stomach protesting every move.

  I surveyed the scene, all of us had passed out in a pile on the floor. At some point, Smitty had used me as a pillow and it took a bit of untangling to get free. I saw Cori was still asleep, which was a rarity. I shivered a bit as the cold of the morning seeped in. I opened the window to let a little bit of fresh air in. The cold, crisp air of the turn of the season invigorated me and helped me shake a bit of the head pain that continued to plague me.

  Most importantly, it aired out the room. Even at our best, a bunch of drunken dungeoneer students couldn't help but smell like a cheap tavern after a night out. Someone had thankfully tossed a blanket over the lot of us. It wouldn't be any good catching a cold this time of year.

  I was disgusted that I had slept in my clothes, the dress all crumpled and wrinkled, and covered in white kobold hairs. I tried to brush off what I could. I sat at the vanity and scowled at my mussed-up hair.

  As I tried to straighten out the crimson tangle that sat atop my head, a growing realization started to dawn on me. Firstly, I had a black eye. That explained part of the headache, I supposed. However, a second fact, a more important fact intruded upon my growing wakefulness.

  This wasn't our dorm room. For one, it was too big. Secondly, it was too nice. I hope I hadn't done what I thought I had done.

  I walked over to the door and opened it, and took a deep breath. Bacon. Eggs. Soup. Various types of coffee and tea.

  I knew exactly where I was—the Jeweled Bower.

  "Good morning, Miss Alta! You look as bad as you probably feel, eh?" A familiar voice, and when I turned to look, a familiar face to go with it.

  Markus, the innkeeper's son, looked me right in the eyes.

  "Uh...hi? I'm going to hate asking this, but why am I here?" I croaked, my voice in worse condition than I expected.

  "Oh, now that's a story to tell, donchaknow! Get your friends up and situated, and come downstairs. We'll get you all fed and fill you in." He grinned and laughed as he passed me on the stairs.

  I could tell I wasn't going to like this. I scowled, but that made my eye hurt more, so I stopped immediately.

  Time to wake the others and get to the bottom of this. But more importantly, get some coffee in my system.