by Dakota Krout
“Yes!” Minya cried in rapture, making the Elves whirl around, looking startled.
Dani chuckled, “That sounded overly sexual.” Minya blushed and kept her face resolutely turned away from the Elves view.
“No, I am sorry. You have done so much for me, and I keep asking for more.” She paused a moment. “Can I help you at all?”
Minya blushed, “Yeah, sorry…”
“I’ve seen dungeons collect the corruption into minerals. I’ve never seen any of them work directly with corruption like you seem to be able to do, so it should be something easy for you. They put veins of minerals along the air vents, sometimes with Beast Cores at the end. The Core draws in corruption along the mineral, leaving purer Essence overall. I have never seen Essence as pure as it is here though.” Minya thoroughly explained to me.
“What kind of minerals?” Dani inquired on my behalf. I had to be faster at asking questions apparently.
Minya thought a moment. “I’ve seen different things, but if I had to guess at the best mineral to use… every type of Essence seems to have a preference, so using topaz for celestial, emeralds for earth, ruby for fire…” She seemed hesitant to continue.
“I am unsure of the next, I can only say what legend says and I don’t want to give you bad information.” She grimaced and continued, “If legend holds true, opal is the only mineral that infernal really likes, but it travels through diamond fairly easily. Wind for some reason likes taaffeeite, and water is attracted to fluorite.”
Dani looked entirely confused, but I knew half of the patterns to make those.
Minya bit her lip. “How much do you need?”
Her reaction confused me.
“Oh! Um. Opals are treated like a controlled substance, since they are allegedly ‘known’ to help Necromancers. Even a small one is going to be really hard for me to acquire.” She looked around like I was about to start beating her.
She glanced around, stood up, and bowed obsequiously at the Silverwood tree. Ha. That would throw off the Elves. They walked to the stairwell, and before they left she looked back and whispered, “Thank you.”
~Dale~
“What now?” Dale sighed at the courier that ran up to him.
With a grin, the young man handed him a sheaf of papers. “Approvals that need your signature. New businesses and housing developments that need your signature, and yes, these are from the city planner.”
Dale’s eyes flicked around as he scanned the document, it wasn’t a magical contract… but just like any legal document, it could still ruin his life for a long time if he signed it without knowing what it said. His Elven political tutor liked to slip in documents to test him. Sure enough, here was one saying he would wash dishes for a week in the Guild mess hall. He shuddered.
He signed what he needed to and threw the rest into the fire. The courier ran off with the documents and a shiny new silver coin as an unfamiliar couple of people walked up to him. They had on a lot of armor. How did they wear all of that? They were at least a foot shorter than Dale, and… oh. They must be Dwarves.
This was confirmed when the one on the left took off his helmet and squinted at Dale. “You Dale?”
“…Yes?” Dale answered cautiously, examining their auras.
“Are you sure? You don’t sound sure.”
Dale grinned, “I just don’t know you is all. I’m Dale.”
“Good! I’m Beor Moonshadow, this is my brother, Brick "Stonewall" Moonshadow. I have a proposition for you.” Beor announced abruptly.
“Do tell.” Dale grinned wider, he liked this brusque fellow.
“Walls!” Brick bellowed. Dale and Beor looked at his unsmiling face.
“Yes, thank you for your contribution.” Beor chuckled as his brother’s face flushed. “Well Dale, it seems you own this area. It is poorly defended, and you don’t exactly look like you are swimming in gold.” Beor looked meaningfully at Dale’s work clothes, torn and worn from daily bunny hunting. “I have a full contingent of Dwarves ready to step in and start building, and you seem to be without defensive walls around your… city?”
Dale nodded, “It’ll get there.”
“Right, well. You’ll never see better stonework than Dwarven make, and as we have Mages along, it will be a fairly fast process. Whaddaya say, chief?”
Dale pondered for a moment, walls certainly were going to be essential, and with winter fast approaching they would help to cut down the wind a lot. “And in return for your expert services?”
“Flattery! I like it!” Beor chuckled. “We have a few requests, but nothing that will cost you more than lease for a bit of land. We want to build a place to live, essentially a barracks.” Brick made a noise. “And Brick here wants to build an orphanage. We’ll even fix and maintain the walls for you. What the abyss-”
A Dark Elf had just stepped out of nowhere and muttered to Dale that he was needed near the dungeon. Dale nodded his assent and turned back to the pale Dwarves. “I think that sounds reasonable. If I may ask, why do you need a new place to live?”
“Well.” Beor coughed, he was as pale as the Elf that had just vanished. “For one thing, it is obvious that you’ll give anyone a chance.” He looked meaningfully at the space the Dark Elf had recently occupied. “Next, we left our ancestral home after the King tried to have us killed off; Put us in a fight against overwhelming odds against an Orc hoard.”
“You are welcome here as long as you follow the law, talk to my city planner about the details for the wall and your area.” Dale patted the Dwarf on his arm, he still looked a bit sad. “I’m sorry. Anyone who would do that does not deserve your loyalty.”
Brick snorted as they walked toward the building Dale directed them to, “Yeah, Dad’s an asshat.”
Dale started, looking back in shock. Great… more exiled Nobles.
~Seventeen~
Dale hurried toward the dungeon, and soon found the reason for the summons. There was an Elf blocking adventurers from entering, and the noise from the crowd of backlogged parties was inhibiting Dale from hearing why she was there. As he got closer and heard what she was saying, he sighed and almost left. Someone else could deal with the crazies for a while.
“No! I will not let you continue to murder helpless bunnies! They have done nothing to you, and their ruthless slaughter has gone on long enough!” The lovely elven maid was shrieking at the grizzled man telling her to move.
“Get out of the way!” The man roared, attempting to shove her to the side. She flipped him onto his back, promptly breaking his arm and two of his fingers.
“No! I am against violence, and all you want to do is get money. You will all promise to stop this madness or I’ll kill you all! I promise on my good name, Leporiday Lagomorpha!”
“O
h for…” Dale walked over to her, “Go away. This is a dungeon. Everything in there wants to kill us, and this is a livelihood. For a lot of people.”
“They don’t want to hurt anyone! I’ll prove it!” She shoved Dale away, then ran into the dungeon, vanishing from sight. The crowd went silent, shocked at her outburst. A few moments later, concerned people tried to run in to help the unhinged Elf, but it wasn’t long until everyone present could hear the drawn-out-then-suddenly-cut-off screams.
“What the hell is going on today?” Dale muttered as people looked around uncomfortably. “Has everyone lost their minds?” He turned toward a tap on his arm, and seeing who was doing the tapping, simultaneously lost his breath and blushed.
Looking at him was a stunning beauty. She was smiling at him, wearing a set of clothes that could have been painted on. “Are you Dale?”
Dale felt a bit crestfallen, “Oh Gods, not another one.”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry, it has been an odd day.” Dale rubbed his head violently for a moment, and took a deep breath. Plastering on his most political smile, “What can I do for you ma’am?”
“Well,” she looked him over, “I was hoping to talk to you about a mutual friend.”
“Oh?” Dale tried to think of who she could be talking about. “Who would that be?”
“Come to my wagon in a few hours, we have plenty to discuss.” She turned and started away, moving in a joyful way that — to the experienced — told a story about freedom from pain. Dale saw it as flirting.
“Where can I find you?” Dale called after her retreating form.
“Just ask around for Minya. You’ll find me.” She tossed him a look and a wink over her shoulder.
Dale watched her go for a few seconds. “Damn. Now we have prostitutes here... at least Hans will be pleased. Is this something that will have to go in the charter?”
“Dale!”
“What now?” Dale growled as he turned to face a slightly deflated-looking shopkeeper.
“Oh. Um. I can come back later? Your Grace.” Tyler started to hurry away from the irritable Duke.
“Don’t go!” Dale grabbed his friend. “Sorry, Tyler, it has just been a long, strange day. What is going on?”
Tyler lit up when Dale started walking with him. “Well, rumors of royalty coming to live here for the foreseeable future is attracting people in droves! Business is booming!” Tyler cheered, covertly rubbing his hands together at the thought of new customers.
“Hmm. I’d better get with someone and discuss laws about moving. If the new people coming don’t have skills and a way to provide for themselves, we are going to have a serious problem with crime soon.” Dale muttered to himself.
“Say again?”
“Nothing, go on.”
“Well,” Tyler showed a toothy smile to his landlord, “I hear you have been looking for a dimensional bag? Just so happens I got in a new shipment this morning!”
Dale chuckled, he should have known Tyler was here on business. “I really do need at least one. How much are you charging?”
“For my savior and landlord?” Tyler pretended to think a moment. “A mere thirty gold.”
Dale stopped and stared, “Good lord, man. How much would it be if you didn’t like me?”
“Hmm. A platinum at least.” Dale choked a bit at the amount. “Of course, if you were just a normal customer, I’d charge you about eighty-five gold.” Tyler grinned at the look Dale gave him.
“You knew what I meant.” Dale huffed, crossing his arms.
Tyler nodded sagely, “Yes, but you need to learn to be specific my friend. Especially if your goal is to progress in cultivation. A misspoken promise or threat can kill you at that point. And do not worry, no charge for this information.”
Dale squinted at Tyler. “Now you are just playing with me. Okay, what is the lowest quality bag you have? The cost I mean. Lowest cost bag.” He amended quickly.
“You are learning! If slowly. That will cost you twenty-eight gold.” He held up a hand, “That is the lowest I can go, even for you. I am taking a loss on it at the price I have quoted you.”
Dale grumbled but agreed to the price. A short trip to the temple’s bank later, he was the owner of a new, shoddy dimensional bag. He told Tyler he would return later for a better quality one, and walked to the dungeon’s entrance.
“Cal? Dungeon?” Dale called mentally.
I responded instantly,
“No.” Dale sounded suspicious, “Should something have happened?”
“Right. Well. Here is the bag you wanted.” Dale tossed it into an empty part of the room, hiding his actions by pretending to urinate against the wall. “I had forgotten about your question game.”
Dale grunted and turned away.
“Dale!” The heavily armored Half-Dwarf walked up to Dale, grinning happily. “I had hoped to run into you soon. Maybe when you had cleaner hands, but now will do!”
“Hello Evan!” Dale also seemed rather happy to see his friend. “How are things? I heard you found a deposit of aluminum?”
“Yeah I did!” Evan’s chest was puffed up proudly, “Though by this point I am almost certain it has been converted to Mithril. Those Dwarves paid through the nose to get it.” He laughed at a memory.
Dale was a bit nonplussed, “You sold it? I had thought you would hold onto it for a while, drive up the price. Also, for some reason I would think you would give Dwarves a discount…?” He trailed off as Evan’s grin vanished.
“You know what I am, yes?” Evan spoke seriously, more so than Dale had heard since he tried to rescue him.
Dale winced, “A Half-Orc, Half-Dwarf, yes?”
“Yes.” Evan spoke slowly, “Do you know that it is not only Elves that hate mixing of the bloodlines? Do you know how one of my kind is made?”
“Well… I…” Dale hated conversations like this, he had no idea what to say.
“That is correct, Half-Orcs are almost exclusively products of, shall we call it, forced impregnation?” Evan shook his head and leaned back stretching a bit. “My case is a bit different, though. You see,” he laughed bitterly, “my father is a Dwarf, he and a war-band got drunk on stone-piss, and he took a bet saying he could bed any woman. They got to choose who he would try to get with. That bet was made right before they attacked a small Orc camp, and guess who his friends chose? My mother. So, I have no love for Dwarves.”
“That’s… I don’t…” Dale tried desperately.
Evan started laughing at Dale’s face, “Don’t worry too much Dale, I had a good childhood. I just have a bit of a constant need to screw over any Dwarf around me. Orc women don’t have children any other way, they are a very warlike race. I grew up a bit shorter than the full-blooded Orcs around me, but I had Dwarven stamina mixed with Orcen strength. I could have ruled the clan, but I wanted other things out of life than a small war band and constant fights for territory. Which brings me to my reason for seeing you.”
“What can I do for you?” Dale asked with relief, happy the awkward conversation was over.
“I am in the mine easily twice as much more than anyone else. They don’t realize it yet, but the deposits of gold and silver are becoming more and more rare, as are reward chests and gems.” Evan had lowered his voice quite a bit, looking around to make sure he wasn’t overheard. “I think… I think a change is coming again, maybe a new area for mining. If it is deeper in the dungeon, I am going to need an escort to get there. I want to ask your team before anyone else does. I do the work of a full team by myself, so escorting just me would be much less work. Likely it would pay better too. Interested?”
Dale pondered for a moment, “We have been spending a lot les
s time in here than we should, since we can move through the first two levels fairly easily. I will talk to my team. If we see anything below we will let you know, but I can’t make any promises just yet. My vote is yes, if that helps.”
Evan nodded, “That’s all I can ask for right now.” He clapped Dale on the back, “I’ll look forward to seeing you soon.” He stepped up to an unmarked wall and started slamming it with his pickaxe, the Runes on it allowing him to be lost from sight after only half a minute or so.
Dale made his way back to Tyler, collecting a much better dimensional storage bag from him. Tyler had assured him that this bag also reduced the weight of whatever went into it, and that he had never found an upper limit on the amount of storage space it had. Basically, if Dale could carry it — and fit whatever it was into the bag — he could just keep loading things into the storage area. If the Runes on the bag were bound to him, he could say a word to bring out the item he was after. Of course, a bag of this quality went for a premium amount. Dale had hit the end of his funds, but he had good credit with Tyler, who agreed to let him pay it off in weekly installments.
He left Tyler's shop, excited about his new purchase, when he heard sobbing coming from a nearby tent. Remembering his last venture into the shop area alone, he very cautiously went to inspect the noise. He peeked around the corner, noticing a small group of people huddled near the source of the sobbing.
“They… they’re all… they’re gone!” She hiccupped, returning to sobbing immediately.
Dale moved in closer, recognizing the people as members of the Spotters, a group dedicated to the research and cataloging of all things mystical. “What’s happening?” Dale softly asked the closest man.
The man, interrupted from his mourning, turned toward Dale full of fury. Seeing who it was, he deflated, almost going limp. “Spotterton was destroyed.”