A Devil In The Dungeon: A Worrying Development
[A Worrying Development]
“Keep it moving. Only a few more hours before we’re home free, folks.”
Halden chuckled as a curse erupted from behind him, stepping over a thick root that would have sent him sprawling had he not seen it in time. The cart rumbled through the forest behind him, monster stones and materials alike rattling in their confines. It was a pain to carry it all through the cavernous forest on the Twentieth Floor, but then, he supposed that was why it paid so well.
“How much further, boss?” called his second, Fenna from the back of the cart where she was busy tightening a strap that had come loose.
“Few hours to Rivira, then we can hand this off and someone else can worry about hauling it the rest of the way up,” Halden replied. “Just keep your eyes open. We’re not home free yet.”
As if on cue, he heard a rustling through the trees. It was quiet and easily mistaken for the ambient sounds of the forest, but he knew better. He stopped dead in his tracks, his hand shooting up in a fist. The others knew the signal and went still immediately.
“What is it?” whispered the youngest and most experienced of them, Corrin.
Halden’s eyes swept the treeline, a frown cutting his face.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Stay sharp.”
They moved forward slowly. Halden pulled his sword from the sling on his back, holding it at the ready as the cart creaked along behind him, its wheels grinding over stone and root.
The attack came suddenly as a group of figures suddenly burst from the treeline. Halden tensed, expecting monsters, but these were no monsters. There were four of them, clad in cloaks to obscure their identity, but peach skin and flashing swords left no doubt in his mind that they were human.
Halden’s sword vibrated as he caught a blow on the flat of his blade. He grunted at the force behind the slight figure’s attack. Level Three. Maybe even four.
He shoved them back with a roar, the muscles in his arms burning as he followed through with a wild slash that they jumped away from.
“Defend the cargo!” He roared, turning as another came at him.
Fenna scrambled atop the cart, her crossbow already cranking. Corrin threw himself in front of the vehicle, brandishing a mace, while old Ghetto sidled up to him with a long knife clutched in hand.
The fighting was brief but vicious. The cloaked figures moved with astounding coordination that he was hard pressed to keep up with. Halden parried a thrust aimed at his ribs, the impact jarring his shoulders, and answered with a overhead chop that forced his opponent to dance backward or else be fatally wounded. Halden wasn't used to fighting people rather than monsters, but he had always been good at thinking on his feet, and a big sword cut the same either way.
His companions were faring well themselves. Fenna’s crossbow twanged and one of the attackers staggered as a foot-long bolt splintered in his shoulder. He retreated into the trees and another followed him after Corrin cracked his ribs with his mace. Another attacked circled around, looking for an opening, but seemed to think better of it and darted into the foliage, dissapearing from view.
“They’re running! Let’s get them!” Corrin shouted, surging forward with fury in his voice.
“Don’t chase!” Halden barked, but the boy had already taken three steps before the wisdom of the order caught up with his legs.
The remaining attacker followed their companions' examples and made to retreat as well, melting into the treeline as quickly as they’d appeared, their cloak catching on branches as they vanished into the pale forest. Then suddenly, it was silent once more.
Halden’s sword stayed raised as his eyes swept the trees, searching for any more signs of trouble. Nothing came, and slowly, he lowered his sword.
“Bastards,” Fenna spat, lowering her crossbow. “Who the hell were they?”
“Looters, maybe? I don’t know,” Halden grunted. “Everyone intact?”
Corrin was clutching his arm where a blade had nicked him, but he nodded. The others seemed fine, though Ghett looked a little shaken. Poor old timer. Maybe it was time to have a talk with him.
“Good.” Halden sheathed his sword, exhaling through his nose. “Let’s get moving before they decide to come back. Check the cart. See if they stole—”
He was cut off mid-sentence as the cart suddenly burst into flame, wood splintering a smouldering as something exploded in its depths.
Halden threw himself sideways, one arm catching Corrin around the chest as he drove the boy to the ground just as a wave of flame and debris passed over then. Something heavy snatched him in the back but he weathered it, keeping his friend safe underneath his body
When the ringing in his ears faded enough to hear again, Halden pushed himself up, taking stock of the situation.
“Halden!” Fenna’s voice came from somewhere to the left. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” he said, rolling his shoulder. “I’m fine and Corrin is too. How’s everyone else?”
A groan from Ghett confirmed the old man was alive, and Fenna scrambled over to them a moment later, her face smudged with soot and a small wound marking her face where something had struck her.
“What the hell was that?” she demanded.
Halden stared at the smoldering ruin of the cart, his hands curled into fists. Almost a million valis worth of materials down the drain, and that wasn’t even mentioning the hit their reputation was going to take after something like this.
“Fuckers planted a bomb on the cart,” Corrin hissed. “That was their plan. That’s why they ran so fast!”
“But why?”
Halden reached down, examining a smoldering Vouivre scale. He lifted it to his face, running a finger over the charred surface.
“I don’t know,” he muttered, watching as black motes of dust drifted to the forest floor. “But I intend to find out.”
One thing was for certain. Someone was going to have a very bad day when they learned about this.
Krov Bentric had her face buried in her hands when the door opened. She looked up, her face weary as she prepared to tell another customer that she simply did not have what they were looking for, only to pause as she was met with the familiar face haloed with bright blonde hair.
While normally the sight of Tanya walking through her door would have sent a thrill of excitement through Krov’s chest, that was not the case today. Today, she could muster nothing but melancholy and a heaping helping of well-deserved shame
“Hey, Tanya,” Krov said, her voice flat. “Thanks for coming.”
Tanya raised a brow at the tone but nodded her greeting all the same. “Good evening, Krov. I can’t say I expected that kind of greeting when you told me you needed to meet me urgently. Why the long face?”
Krov winced, her face falling even further. “I’ve... Got something to show you.”
She motioned Tanya closer and under the girl’s curious gaze, picked up a sheet of paper from underneath the counter. She slid it over with a resigned expression, leaning her head on one hand as Tanya picked it up.
Tanya’s brows rose as she took in the paper’s contents. It was a ledger of costs and profits for the first batch of computation orbs. Krov’s handwriting was a bit difficult to discern, smudged as it was, but the numbers themselves were laid out in neat columns alongside notes on material costs, labor estimates, and sale prices.
All in all, the projected revenue was substantial. Even accounting for a conservative markup, the first batch alone would generate enough to cover production costs several times over, with more than enough left over to fund the next iteration.
Tanya looked up from the paper, a bit confused. “This is excellent. If the first batch performs as well as you’ve projected, then we stand to make a lot of money.”
“They won’t.”
Tanya paused. “Pardon?”
“They won’t perform at all,” Krov repeated, seeming on the verge of tears. “Because there won’t be a first batch.”
Tanya set the paper down slowly. Then, in a flat tone, “Explain.”
Krov swallowed and produced another sheet, this one bearing an official seal that Tanya vaguely recognized.
“This came from the Guild this morning,” she said as she handed t over. “It’s a shipment report regarding the materials I ordered. The transport team was supposed to drop it off at Rivira, where another team would haul it the rest of the way up.”
She tapped a trembling finger against the seal at the bottom of the page.
“Except it never arrived. The team was ambushed on the Twentieth Floor and the cart was destroyed. Everything is gone.”
Tanya stared at the paper in her hands, digesting the information. Krov had expended a considerable amount of her own money in this venture and Tanya knew for a fact that the woman did not have anywhere near enough money to cover the costs of such a tragic event. And truthfully, from the numbers on this paper, neither could she.
Tanya set the paper down on the counter with a calm that belied the fury burning hot just behind her eyes. She was an old hand at this sort of business, and this whole scenario stunk of corporate espionage. Sabotage.
But who?
Tanya shoved the thought aside for the moment, focusing on what was in front of her. She needed to salvage this situation before there was no situation left to salvage. She turned her mind away from the who and the why, focusing on the now.
“Has the company offered any form of reimbursement for what was lost? You were insured, weren’t you?”
Krov nodded but suddenly stopped and shook her head, making Tanya frown. “I was but that only covers the cost of the materials themselves; the shipping is a separate fee and it’s not cheap. I’d still be in the hole.”
Tanya’s jaw tightened. When it rained...
“So you’re out the shipping fee, and you have no way to get the replacement materials to your shop.” She said aloud, tapping her fingers against her palms as she thought.
“Unless I hire another caravan and pay for another escort out of pocket, yes.” Krov pressed her palms against her eyes. “Which I can’t afford, because I just spent everything I had on the first shipment.”
Tanya closed her eyes and took a slow breath through her nose, thinking of the ramifications of this setback. It was good that she wasn’t out everything she invested, but the delay on these materials could be enough to hamper their momentum. Every day without a product on the shelf was a day that a potential customer wandered off and found something else to spend their money on, that was just how business worked.
She wracked her brain for a solution, staring at a light fixture just above Krov’s head. “...How quickly can the Guild process the reimbursement for the lost materials?”
Krov sniffed, lowering her hands. “I already submitted the paperwork. They said it would take a few days to process, but I should have the funds within the week.”
Tanya nodded slowly. “Good. Once you’ve been refunded, I want you to place the order for replacement materials immediately. Same supplier, same quantities.”
Krov blinked. “But I—
“I will handle the shipping,” Tanya interrupted. “The materials will be coming from the lower floors, which means they have to pass through Rivira regardless of who’s transporting them. I’ll pick it up from there and circumnavigate the need for a caravan in the first place.”
Krov’s mouth opened and closed several times, her brow furrowing as she processed the suggestion. “Tanya, I think you’re overestimating yourself. You’ve done some amazing things, but the 18th floor is pretty far down there. We might be better off just biding our time and waiting until we have the money for—”
“I’m aware of the risks,” Tanya interrupted. “But I have no intention of allowing this setback to cripple us. I’ll take care of it myself.”
Krov still looked uncertain, but Tanya could see the relief warring with the worry in her expression. The woman wanted to argue, but they both knew that she didn’t have a better option.
Finally, Krov nodded, her shoulders sagging with a mix of exhaustion and reluctant gratitude. “Alright. I’ll have the replacement order submitted the moment the reimbursement clears.” She paused, rubbing the back of her neck. “Tanya... thank you. I know this isn’t your responsibility.”
“It isn’t,” Tanya agreed, striding towards the door. “But my investment is my responsibility, and I intend to protect it. Have the order ready and the paperwork filed by the end of the day. I’ll handle the rest.”
Two days later, Tanya sought out Licia and found her at the Hostess, alongside both Artus and Rann. The latter two were talking animatedly about one topic or another, or at least Rann was talking. Artus seemed to be weathering his “conversation” rather than actively participating, while Licia watched in mild amusement.
“I need your help,” Tanya said without preamble, sliding into the booth across from them.
Licia looked up from the spectacle, surprised by Tanya’s sudden appearance. Rann and Artus stopped arguing for a moment, looking her way as well.
“Whaddya want?” Rann asked, seeming in a foul mood. Tanya raised a brow and Artus elbowed him, shooting Tanya an apologetic look.
“Sorry, he’s drunk and pissy because he had to replace his bow.” Licia apologized for her friend. “But it’s a good question; what’s the matter, Tanya?”
Tanya leaned forward, clasping her hands on the table. “I need your help getting to Rivira.”
Licia blinked and set her fork down, giving Tanya her full attention. Huh? Rivira? What do you need all the way down there?”
“And why the hell do we have to come with you,” Rann hiccuped.
Tanya explained the situation, pausing only to accept a drink offered by Syr lingering a table or two away. Licia nodded along, listening intently, while Artus attempted to do the same while wrangling Rann into his seat after someone made a snide remark where the Pallum could overhead.
When all was said and done, Licia had a pensive look on her face. “Well, I’ve never been all the way down to Rivira before, but I’ve made it as far as the fifteenth so it should be fine, right?”
“As long as we’re careful, I don’t see us having any issue.” Tanya agreed. “I’m willing to pay you, of course, though I’m afraid my pockets are a bit light at the moment.”
“It’s fine,” Licia said, waving her hand. “We’re friends so I don't mind helping you out. Besides, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to check it out down there. This is as good an excuse as any.”
“I’ll come too,” Artus said, straightening in his seat. He glanced at Licia, and Tanya noted the way his eyes lingered on her before he looked away. “My skill would be good at keeping anyone from getting the drop on us, and I’ll admit, I kind of want to see what Rivira looks like. A whole town built in the dungeon sounds pretty cool.”
“That’d be great. Thank you, Artus,” Licia smiled. She turned to Rann, who was glaring at his empty drink. “Rann?”
“Uh-huh?”
“Do you want to come with us?”
The Pallum blinked slowly. “Do I want to walk all the way down to the eighteenth floor?” He looked down at his empty cup, then up at her. “No. No I don’t.”
“It’ll be good experience,” Artus tried to convince him. “And we could use your bow. You’re a better shot than anyone I know.”
Rann’s posture shifted at the compliment. His eyes flicked toward Artus, then Licia, then Tanya, before settling back on his drink. He grumbled something under his breath that Tanya couldn’t quite catch.
“Fine,” he muttered. “But I’m not carrying anyone’s stuff.”
“I had no intention of asking,” Tanya said dryly. “We’ll leave at dawn. I want this over and done with as soon as possible.”
Licia nodded. “We’ll meet you at the Dungeon entrance.”
“Good. Get some rest tonight. Tomorrow will be a long day.”
Syr hummed a pleasant tune as she wiped down the long counter for the morning rush. The tavern was quiet, the three or four patrons who happened to be up this early keeping to themselves.
Steps came from up above, and she looked up with a smile already in place as she watched Tanya walking down the stairs, adjusting her saber on her hip.
“Good morning, Tanya,” Syr greeted warmly. “I heard through the grapevine that you’re on your way to Rivira today.”
Tanya tilted her head curiously. “Word travels fast.”
Syr giggled. “It’s a tavern, after all.”
“So it is,” Tanya sighed, pressing a hand to the dim blue orb attached to her collar. “And I suppose my day-to-day is a rather popular topic, as usual.”
“You lead an interesting life, what can I say?” She laughed again, before gesturing to the kitchen. “Would you like some coffee? I have a pot brewing right now.”
Tanya hesitated for a moment before she shook her head. “Not this morning; I have to get going. The others are waiting for me.”
“Alright. Good luck!” Syr gave a happy wave which Tanya returned before she disappeared out the door.
The door had scantly closed behind her before another patron stood as well. In the corner of the tavern, a slim figure wrapped in a thick cloak strode to the counter. Their face was completely obscured, and Syr only caught a flash of gold as they reached into their cloak and pulled out a handful of coins, placing them on the counter.
“Thank you for your business!” Syr said happily. Silence was their only response as they turned and made for the door, disappearing into the street beyond.
As Syr returned to her task, her expression shifted just slightly. The warm smile that normally graced her face throughout the entirety of her shift became thoughtful.
She picked up the rag again, running it along the grain of the wood as her mind drifted elsewhere. The tavern was still quiet. The morning light filtered through the windows in soft golden bands, catching motes of dust that drifted lazily in the still air.
It didn’t take much, she mused, a soft smile on her lips. He was chomping at the bit to take revenge in a way that wouldn’t come back to bite him. I didn’t expect him to make a move so soon, though.
It was astounding, the amount of damage an errant comment could do when it landed upon the right ear. Words had a way of traveling in Orario, especially words spoken in taverns where adventurers gathered and ears were always listening. An idle comment made its way to a dozen ears and became a rumor and then an idea, and an idea became action. A beautiful river of causality that only needed the slightest nudge to flow where one desired.
Syr rinsed the rag in a basin of water, wringing it out with both hands. The water turned faintly gray, and she set the rag aside and dried her hands on her apron, her gaze drifting toward the door through which Tanya had departed, followed closely by that intriguing individual.
New floors, new dangers, new opportunities to grow. It was so very exciting.
Syr picked up a glass and held it to the light, inspecting it for smudges. Finding none, she set it back on the shelf with a soft clink.
Safe travels, Tanya. And good luck.