The Art of Four - Dungeons and Dragoons Book 1

Kaiden made his way to the town square, mentally replaying Milyana’s directions. Mindforge helped a little, keeping the key landmarks fresh in his mind, though he still had to focus and occasionally second-guess himself. It wasn’t perfect, but it was definitely better than his old memory. He hurried along, knowing the recruitment window for the day was almost over.

During his talk with Milyana, Kaiden had learned a great deal about the military and the world itself. She had answered his questions, though occasionally giving him strange looks when he asked about things that everyone else should know. Still, she never pressed him about it, simply offering the information with a raised brow or a chuckle.

For one thing, today was Monday—of course it was Monday. The day had that heavy feeling, like everything was just a little harder than it needed to be. The kind of day where nothing quite goes right, and you’re constantly reminded why Mondays are universally hated. This world seemed to follow Earth’s calendar exactly, a strange but oddly comforting realization. Oros hadn’t been exaggerating when he said Aterra was modeled after Earth. Even the worst parts. Still, the familiarity helped ground him, despite the Monday curse hanging in the air.

Milyana had also told him about the recruitment process. It started today and would continue until Friday, meaning he had a week to figure things out. However, with the day already coming to an end, he needed to catch the recruiters before they left. They had something he needed badly. Something all fresh recruits received as part of the initiation: pants.

More specifically, a uniform. If chosen, he’d be given one immediately—and that was something he desperately wanted. He smirked to himself, quickening his pace. Surely I can survive military service for a while—especially if it means getting to explore dungeons.

Kaiden turned the corner, and the sight in front of him made it clear he'd reached his destination. A handful of guards were herding a crowd of spectators into what looked like a recruitment area, blocked off by wooden posts separating it from the rest of the square. Soldiers sat at tables near the front, with one man standing on a raised platform, clearly preparing to address the crowd.

The man on the platform was tall and broad-shouldered, his armor well-worn but polished. A scar ran down the left side of his face, crossing over a cold, steely eye that seemed to take in everything at once. His voice boomed as he spoke. "Recruiting closes in two minutes! Everyone else will have to wait until tomorrow."

There were onlookers gathered outside the posts, curious about the process but not participating. Behind the platform stood a large wagon, hitched to half a dozen horses, likely to transport new recruits.

"Don’t want to be late," Kaiden muttered to himself as he quickened his pace, weaving through the crowd. He kept to the edge of the street where the shops lined up, but in his haste, he stepped too close to a horse hitched outside a tavern. The horse, mistaking his blanket for food, bit down on the edge of it, yanking it right off Kaiden’s body.

Kaiden’s jaw dropped as he froze in disbelief. The horse, a black stallion with wild, defiant eyes stared back at him, blanket still dangling from its mouth like some hard-earned prize. For a moment, Kaiden tugged at the fabric, trying to wrestle it free from the horse’s teeth, but the stallion barely budged, standing its ground with an amused snort. With a casual shrug of its powerful neck, the horse tossed the blanket aside, letting it fall straight into the nearby water trough.

Kaiden could only stare, speechless.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," he yelled in his mind, a wave of frustration hitting him hard. He retrieved the now-soaking-wet blanket, holding it up in stunned disbelief. "Stupid Monday curse," he muttered under his breath.

The man on the platform yelled again, announcing that they were closing the recruits in a moment, which spurred Kaiden into action. He dropped the sopping blanket, deciding that being half-naked and dry was better than wearing a drenched towel. With no time to spare, he sprinted to the recruitment area, slipping past just as two guards placed a wooden barrier behind him to signal no more entries.

Kaiden sighed in relief, thankful he'd made it in time. He looked around at the crowd of potential recruits, sizing up the competition—or perhaps his future comrades. His gaze moved from person to person until his eyes landed on a figure to his right.

Suddenly, Kaiden felt a lot better about his own situation as he stared at the man in disbelief. Was he... completely covered in mud? The only thing visible were his eyes—calm, yet strangely intense—peering out from beneath the muck. In that instant, Kaiden knew one thing for sure.

I need to stay away from that guy.

BREAK

Sergeant Nornd stood outside the tavern, glaring at his horse with a mix of frustration and affection. "Why couldn’t you behave for Sergeant Merrick?" he muttered, giving the stallion a firm pat on the neck. "I’m on an important break here, but I had to stop and get you." The horse huffed and pawed at the dirt, oblivious to Nornd's scolding. "You need to learn to let other people ride you, y’know," Nornd continued, shaking his head. He sighed, then softened, rubbing the stallion’s head affectionately. "But I can’t stay mad at you, can I?"

He hitched up his horse outside the tavern, returning to his previous and more important matter as he muttered to the animal as if it could share his frustration. "Dungeoneers," he grumbled, "who in their right mind would want to be one?"

He trudged inside, the smell of stale ale and pipe smoke hitting him as he ordered a drink. His boots scraped across the worn wooden floor as he found a seat in the corner. The bartender slid a mug toward him without a word, clearly recognizing the look of someone who wanted to drink in peace. Nornd took a swig, the cool ale doing little to soothe his irritation.

Recruiting wasn’t going well. Hell, recruiting Dungeoneers was a near-impossible task these days. The whole operation made no sense to him. Normally, they didn’t need many Dungeoneers, not like this. Quotas for the Army side were easy to fill, especially since there weren’t any active wars, but Dungeoneers? That was another story.

"Who the hell wants to go dungeon diving, where any day could be your last?" he muttered into his ale. It was a dangerous job, one that made you wish you’d stuck to guard duty or patrols if you were smart. At least the army was safe now, with no conflicts on the horizon. But diving into a dungeon was a different beast entirely. One wrong step, one bad decision, and you’d never come out.

He understood the strategy behind it, but it still frustrated him. The decision to ramp up Dungeoneer recruitment instead of just boosting army numbers didn’t sit right with him. The army side had a small quota this time around, leaving the more seasoned staff sergeants with the cushy task of filling those slots. Meanwhile, he and a few other lower-ranked recruiters had been saddled with the nearly impossible job of recruiting for the Dungeoneer Corps.

“Bloody ridiculous,” he growled. He took another long drink, thinking about the absurd quota they’d given him. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. They were scraping the bottom of the barrel for recruits, yet headquarters expected them to lure people into signing up for one of the most dangerous jobs in the kingdom.

Out of all the recruiting rounds so far, only one had filled all the Dungeoneer slots. That was a miracle in itself as all the other rounds flew by with barely passable numbers. Today was only the first day, so there was hope things would pick up later in the week, but he needed more than just hope.

Master Sergeant Hales, at least, had been reasonable. He’d given Nornd permission to take a break, offering to fill in for him for the rest of the day. "Take some time to figure out how you’re going to fill those slots," Hales had said.

Nornd snorted at the memory. Figure it out? Easier said than done.

He stared into his half-empty mug, the flickering light of the tavern’s fireplace casting shadows on the worn wooden walls. He needed a plan, something to bring in recruits. But how do you convince someone to dive into a dungeon when even the thought of it made most sane people’s skin crawl?

"Yeah, I need to think," he muttered, taking another swig of his ale. He needed to figure out how to get those asses into dungeons.

In the midst of his deep thinking, Nornd was jolted out of his thoughts by a loud exclamation and the slam of a fist on the table. He glanced over, spotting a group of rowdy men a few tables down, all deeply engrossed in a game of cards. One of them, grinning widely, was scooping up a pile of chips, clearly the victor of the latest hand.

Nornd chuckled to himself and took another long drink from his mug. "Maybe I can swindle them over some cards," he muttered under his breath, amused by the thought. But as he looked them over again, he shook his head. "Yeah, right. I’m no good at cards."

Still, the idea sparked something in him. What if I didn’t have to play cards? He leaned back in his chair, an idea slowly forming. "I could set up a bet, some kind of wager," he mused, tapping his mug thoughtfully. "Something I know I’ll win, but make it seem like they’d have a chance." He let the thought simmer, but nothing solid came to mind immediately. What could I use?

As if on cue, the bartender approached, wiping his hands on his apron. "Would you like one of our stable hands to bring your stallion to the back?" the bartender asked, nodding toward Nornd’s horse outside.

Nornd’s eyes widened, and suddenly, the pieces clicked together. That’s it!