“Well, that’s easy. My home is the dungeon!” Celandine declared as she and Crispin stepped along a ledge overlooking one of the many rivers of lava that crisscrossed the Furnace. 

“Is that so?” Crispin replied. “There’s nothing for you on the surface?”

Celandine hesitated.

“Well,” She began as though admitting something. “That’s not entirely true. My parents are adventurers too, but they still live on the surface, and I still visit them pretty often.”

Crispin nodded. 

“Do you think your parents’ choice of vocation affected yours?”

“Absolutely, but I don’t mind. I love it down here!” 

“That’s a refreshing perspective.” Crispin said with a slight smile. “I’ve met plenty of Coursers in the dungeon who’ve felt burdened by their parents’ legacy.”

Celandine shook her head. 

“Not me. If anything, my dads are my competition! I want to be a better adventurer than even they are.”

At this, Crispin laughed kindly. 

“You’re very confident for a beginning dungeon-delver. I like to see that attitude in young Coursers, if it’s tempered with adequate caution.”

Celandine shook out her mane, glowing with the praise.

“Of course. The dungeon may be my home, but I know enough about it to know it’s still a dangerous place.”

Crispin nodded.

“That’s good. That attitude will keep you alive. I hope to one day see you become a skilled veteran adventurer.”