Dungeon Master (Karma System)

The marsh serpent died halfway through its attempt to reach the water.

Evan held its head away from Bram while Nella drove her spear beneath the scales behind its jaw. Jory’s last spell struck along the creature’s exposed side, and Kelan pulled Bram clear before the thrashing tail could break his leg.

The serpent collapsed across the reeds.

For several seconds, the only sounds were breathing and the slow movement of muddy water around their boots.

”Everyone alive?” Evan asked.

”You are holding its mouth closed.” Bram said from the ground. ”I am reasonably certain it is the one that died.”

Kelan offered him a hand. ”That was not the question.”

Bram stood and tested his weight. ”Alive. Bruised. Still handsome.”

Nella wiped her spear clean. ”One out of three is enough.”

The exchange lacked the breathless relief that followed their early victories. They had accepted a contract to remove the serpent after it began attacking fishing boats along a Corathian wetland. They found its nesting channel, prevented it from reaching deeper water, and killed it without losing a party member.

The fight had been dangerous. It had not been desperate.

Evan released the creature and checked the damage to his shield. Two deep grooves crossed its metal rim. They would need repair before the party’s next contract, but the shield remained usable.

”We take the head and the venom glands.” Nella said. ”The village requested proof, and the apothecary offered a separate price.”

No one argued about who should do which part. Jory began drying the patch of ground where they would work. Kelan prepared containers for the glands. Bram removed the heavy cutting tools from their pack. Evan watched the water for a second serpent while Nella marked the safest cuts.

They had learned to divide work without turning every task into a discussion.

The fishing village paid them before sunset. Its mayor added a basket of smoked fish to the agreed reward and refused to take it back when Nella pointed out that food had not been part of the contract.

”It is not payment.” The mayor said. ”But my wife will not be happy if I let the people who reopened the south channel leave hungry.”

Bram accepted the basket before Nella could object again.

Their return to Sanctuary took two portals and most of the next morning. They crossed from the wetland district to a larger Corathian city, then used the public portal to head back. Evan still found it strange that a dangerous contract could end beside a muddy river and breakfast the next day could come from a Sanctuary bakery.

The strangeness no longer made him uncertain that he belonged there.

They entered Sanctuary with enough coin to rest for several days after the rest was spent on repairing equipment and learning new skills, oh and sending a bit home. Bram wanted a proper bath. Jory wanted to replace the spell components ruined when he fell into the marsh. Kelan intended to find a healer willing to examine a stiffness in his shoulder before it became an injury. Nella wanted to file the completed contract and refuse every new offer until they had slept in the same beds twice.

”Three days.” She said while they crossed the market. ”No one accepts work for three days.”

”What if someone needs a delivery taken from this side of the street to the other?” Bram asked.

”They can carry it themselves.”

”What if the delivery is pastries?”

”Then you will steal the payment.”

”I would never steal pastries.” Bram said. ”Payment should be coin. Pastries are a professional expense.”

Evan left them near the contract hall and continued toward their lodging. The Sanctuary mail counter stood along the route. He checked it because he always checked when they returned, although enough time had passed without a response that he had stopped expecting one each day.

The gnome behind the counter recognized his name and brought out a thick envelope.

Evan knew his father’s handwriting before he touched it.

His family had received the letter.

He carried the envelope to the small courtyard behind the lodging house. The space held two benches, a fruit tree, and a fountain that made enough noise to soften conversations from the rooms above. Evan sat beneath the tree and turned the sealed letter over.

His family knew he was an adventurer. They knew he had died and returned. They knew the job he described in earlier letters had never been ordinary work in a distant town.

Evan had expected fear when he finally told them. He had expected anger as well. He had been prepared for both while writing. Waiting for their answer proved harder than the confession.

He broke the seal.

The first page was written by his mother.

She began by saying she had read his letter three times and cried during all three. The next line informed him that the tears did not mean he was forbidden to continue, because he was a grown man in another country and she was aware she could not order him home.

Evan smiled despite the tightness in his chest.

She was frightened. She did not hide it. The fact that resurrection existed did not make death harmless to a mother imagining her son facing monsters. She wished he had told them sooner and admitted that knowing the truth was better than creating worse possibilities every time his earlier letters avoided details.

Then she asked about Nella, Bram, Jory, and Kelan.

Not merely whether they were competent. She wanted to know what they ate after a difficult adventure, who remembered to buy supplies, whether anyone sang badly around a fire, and whether they had families of their own. Evan had written that he trusted them with his life. His mother apparently intended to evaluate that trust through questions.

She ended her portion by telling him she was proud he had built a life for himself. The words were followed by a warning to remain careful and a request that he never again wait so long to tell them something important.

His father’s writing began on the next page.

The first paragraph concerned money.

Evan had sent more than the family expected. His father had used part of it to repair the roof and placed the rest aside. He did not want Evan taking greater risks merely to send coin home. If adventuring paid well, that was fortunate. If a larger payment required a more dangerous contract, Evan was instructed to keep it.

The practical concern sounded exactly like him.

His father remained wary of the work. He asked whether the party had a written agreement, whether they kept emergency supplies separate from ordinary packs, and whether Evan maintained his equipment instead of waiting for something to break. He wanted to know how contracts were verified and whether local authorities could be trusted.

He was also glad Evan was not alone.

The line appeared in the middle of a paragraph about shield repairs. Evan read it twice. His father wrote that five people who had survived several levels together were more reassuring than a son wandering alone with a sword and enthusiasm.

The last pages belonged to Elly and Tobin.

His siblings had abandoned the restrained tone of the adults. Elly wanted to know whether fairies truly glowed and whether Evan had spoken to one. Tobin demanded the exact size of every orc he fought, followed by a drawing in which Evan stood taller than a house and held off twelve monsters with one hand.

They considered him the most impressive older brother in the world.

Elly had informed three friends that he flew on a dwarven airship. Tobin claimed five friends, a teacher, and a neighbor. Their mother added a note in the margin stating that the number of informed people was continuing to grow and secrecy was no longer possible even if Evan changed his mind.

For the first time, that did not worry him.

He folded the pages carefully and sat beside the fountain until the pressure behind his eyes eased.

Nella found him there with the rest of the party.

”Bad?” She asked.

Evan shook his head. ”Good.”

Bram stopped carrying the smoked-fish basket like a prized treasure. ”Good enough that we are allowed to ask?”

Evan read them the portions that were not private. He shared his father’s concern about emergency supplies and his mother’s questions about who remembered to buy them. Kelan admitted that Nella remembered. Bram insisted he contributed by remembering to consume them.

Jory examined Tobin’s drawing. ”Which one of us is this?”

The small figure beside Evan had been labeled Magik Man.

”You.”

”I appear to be wearing a pointed hat.”

”You should buy one.” Bram said.

”I would rather walk into the marsh again.”

Nella read the line where Evan’s mother asked about the party. Her expression softened. ”Tell her we look after one another.”

”I did.”

”Tell her again. Mothers appreciate evidence.”

They spent the afternoon doing nothing heroic. Bram divided the smoked fish. Kelan scheduled his examination. Jory went to purchase components and returned with a packet of paper for Evan. Nella delivered the contract record and rejected two offers presented before she left the hall.

Evan began his response that evening.

He did not recount the marsh serpent in detail or attempt to answer every question at once. He confirmed that he had received their letter, reassured his father that the shield would be repaired, and promised his mother he would write more regularly.

Near the end, he added an invitation.

Sanctuary was safe. His family could reach it through established routes, and Evan could arrange help for the journey. They did not need to enter the dangerous levels or watch him fight. They could see where he lived, meet his party, and decide for themselves whether the life he described was as reckless as they feared.

He did not demand an answer or choose a date for them.

He simply told them he wanted them to visit and suggested they come during winter since the field would be empty anyway.

When the ink dried, Evan set the letter beside the one he had received. The next morning could take care of postage.

Tonight, his party had three days off, a basket of smoked fish, and a debate over whether a pointed wizard’s hat would improve Jory’s spellcasting.

Evan joined it without hiding who he had become.

The following morning, he delivered the letter before breakfast. He paid for the fastest ordinary route rather than an expensive magical dispatch. His invitation did not require an answer tomorrow. It required enough time for his family to believe he truly meant it.

When he returned, Nella had already arranged the party’s rest days. The first belonged to repairs and recovery. The second belonged to no one but themselves. On the third day, they could discuss their next destination without accepting a contract.

Evan placed his damaged shield with a smith and paid for the rim to be reinforced. His father’s questions remained in his thoughts while he checked their reserve supplies. They already maintained separate emergency packs. Evan replaced two used potions and discovered Bram had eaten part of the dry ration reserve during the return journey.

”It was an emergency.” Bram said.

”You were hungry.”

”A condition that becomes an emergency if neglected.”

Evan replaced the food and wrote the cost under Bram’s share while the others laughed.

The small precautions would not make his parents stop worrying. Meeting the party might help more. For the first time, Evan could imagine his mother walking through Sanctuary’s market or his siblings demanding to see an airship. The possibility made home feel less like a place he had escaped and more like a part of his life he could finally connect to the one he built here.