Meanwhile... Last evening, in the Royal Labyrinth Exploration Bureau. It had been a cloudy, rainy day, which normally was the kind of day that Elizabeth Voile liked the most. But her mood hadn't been even close to good for nearly two weeks now.
"Sedna, report please." A woman with flowing auburn hair in clerk's clothing stepped up to her table, carrying a file.
"As you wish, Ma'am. As of today, we have mapped significant portions of the Second Stratum. This has proven to be a bit difficult, since the Labyrinth, below the first Stratum, seems to be malleable and changes. Many adventuring parties have not returned, or came back in shambles after a few weeks."
"Any word of... that one party?"
"None, Ma'am. The total death toll, including missing persons, is now at..."
"Yes, yes, I don't need to hear that." Elizabeth glanced at the two ornate keys lying on her new mahagony desk, which just arrived two days ago. Over the course of the past month, the Bureau had become much more, well, professional. A new building had been erected in short order (the mayor had been grateful to finally get his town hall back), clerks had been hired, which means that Elizabeth had to waste much less time on filling in the paperwork herself. There were two people working full time on the obituaries.
One particular obituary laid on her desk, creased, adorned with coffee stains and furious corrections in violet ink. But not the seal of the Chief Minister of Labyrinth Exploration and Magical Artifacts. Sedna knew it had been there for at least two weeks. It was, apparently, a source of great frustration to the pint-sized mage. As her eyes lingered on it a bit more, the delicate hand of her superior slammed down on it.
"Has the third key been found?"
"No, Ma'am."
"Argh! Well, there's no way around it. I should have suspected it all along. Sedna?"
"Yes, Ma'am?"
"Gather the best you can find. I've got a mission of utmost importance."
"Including...?"
"Yes, including that loose cannon. Get her a dozen beers or so, that should make her sign up."
"...affirmative, Ma'am." With that, the woman known as Sedna left the room, leaving Elizabeth to stare at the newest iteration of the Dungeon Map, trying to find that one particular clearing that had been burned in her mind. The last place she saw them. And-- admitting them to be lost would be admitting defeat. Hah... as if. She'd prove that she was stronger than this Labyrinth.
Sigh... right after putting her seal on a couple more hundred documents.
--
The next morning. Over night, the weather had cleared up, worsening the small minister's mood yet more. This hour of the day - 10:00 to 11:00 - had become a ritual for her, the screening of new adventurers, approving or denying their exploration licenses for certain areas. Quality had steadily risen, just as the quantity had gone down from the initial rush. Kingsford had tripled in size from veterans or rejects from the labyrinth, and it was quite possibly the best place in Illyria and the neighboring countries to get all sorts of equipment, weaponry and other exploring staples. Even the Holy Orders had bought some land just up the river and were building one of their citadels there. Since they used Golems for that, they'd probably be done in another month or two.
Perhaps, some day, Kingsford would become the new capital. Or it would shrivel and die the moment the Labyrinth closed down just as suddenly as it appeared...
Persistent knocking on her office door tore her from her daydreaming. She quickly tried to look professional, then rang the bell that signified her permission to enter.
--
In the end, a group of five had been assembled. In all honesty, it was not actually that bad, at least in terms of skill levels. Sedna had done a solid job. The dysfunctionality... well, Elizabeth had learned that most of the time it just came with the job.
Sedna probably was the most prominent part of this group. Well, technically, a particularily venomous part of Elizabeth's brain remarked, her breasts were the most prominent part of the group, and the armor she wore - it could only be called a chainmail bikini - stood in stark contrast to her understated clerk clothing, while also putting the two most prominent group members on prominent display. Elizabeth had already pointed out the questionable protective value of this armor - back when Sedna had stood before this desk, asking for the exploration permit - and her counterpart had justified it claiming it to be the traditional warrior dress of her barbarian tribe. In this case, the traditions were probably made by men. In any case, she'd soon discovered that as skilled as Sedna was swinging around that two-handed axe of hers, she was even better at pushing pencils, so Elizabeth put her on the payroll as her right hand in the endless war on paperwork. But right now she needed the services of Sedna the Auburn, Barbarian Hero and one of the last renmants of pulp fantasy novel days past, not Sedna Clark, mild-mannered clerk. She'd best make it back alive. The war on bureaucracy was impossible to win without her.
Then, the former Holy Orders Paladin. Marius Carver, that was his name. Looking at him, Elizabeth was pretty sure she knew why he was kicked out. Middle-aged or a bit younger, greasy black hair and the face of a creeper - perhaps there was some sort of slimy little incident in his past nobody wanted to know about. No sign of his armor anywhere, he probably pawned it off - he still had the standard-issue hooded cloak, but carefully patched up so that no sign of identification was remaining. This was one man who did not want anything to do with his former Order just as much as his Order didn't want anything to do with him. Below that, cheap leather armor and a padded vest. He was a competent healer and a good shot with the crossbow, so she threw him in, as he didn't seem to be intent to drive his life further down the cliff. His regret seemed to be genuine. Well, certainly his punishment would be cruel if he turned his back on this motley team.
The third person in the group called himself Stouton Theraio. A weird one, even for adventurers. Hood completely covering his face, apparently a mask below that. Cloak over everything else. Small stature was still difficult to overlook. Megalomaniac allures and, during the application process, tried to hit on her twice, on Sedna four times and on the potted plant in the corner of the room once. He smelled like burning and the stench of decay mixed in a repulsive cocktail. But he was good at what he did, which was chaotic and destructive magic - after this was done, Elizabeth would be sure to make him pay for the windows.
Number four, in contrast, made a strikingly positive impression. A quite handsome man, clothing a bit on the foppish side, called Desmond Fox who identified himself as a Stormcloak mercenary. The name of that company wasn't foreign to Elizabeth, as an entire squadron had one fine day waltzed in, moderately drunk and hell-bent on taking the labyrinth, shaking it upside down and catching any loot that falls out. She didn't see them again, but that she got used to a long time ago - and apparently this man wanted to ascertain their fate with his own eyes, expressing the theory they might just as well be somewhere in there and rolling in mountains of loot right now with a resentful undertone in his voice. Unlikely theory, but an entire band of mercenaries wasn't the sort that'd be defeated easily.
In continuing the talk, and filling out the forms, Elizabeth's positive image of the man became a little cracked. His modus of speech carried a hint of casual arrogance he perhaps didn't even notice. And he did miss a beat when she mentioned that Sedna would be leading this expedition, his eyes betraying that he considered himself more suited for that role than, say, a woman he'd only seen carry around a stack of Form 3Fs, and he definitely did not quite approve of the chainmail bikini. (Liz couldn't blame him for that.) But he seemed professional enough to rise above his personal qualms, eager enough for adventure to carry on through the hardships, intelligent enough to not get himself killed... almost like...
No. No no NO NO nooo.
And, lastly... sigh. The only adventurer of the bunch that needed to be carried in. Christ, it was 10:40 in the morning, how could Sedna already find you drunk off your rocker? Well, not the first time this was happening with that person, so she had a can of extra-strong coffee prepared, which at least made this particular adventurer coherent enough to write her name on the sign-up sheets. Leona Fenix. Can't even decide on one, either, that's the sixth alias this month. She had different clothing from last time she saw her - surprising for someone who lived like a hobo - now, it was a loose-fitting baggy ensemble of indeterminate beige-brownish clothes. Not quite the sort of ensemble you get diving through a dumpster and grabbing the first shreds of cloth you see - no, it actually looked like it was supposed to be worn together. And she'd gotten a haircut. Which is to say, her hair still was as wild as ever, but shorter now. Maybe Elizabeth had underestimated her standard of living, or she'd hit a treasure of gold and responsibility on her last trip to the dungeon. The sword had stayed the same, though. Well, it was a hilt with some parts of sword still attached to it, grossly oversized, as if the original sword was made for giants. Since she kept it wrapped in cloth perpetually, it should probably be called a club, not a sword. Every time Liz had asked her where she had it from, she either gave an evasive answer or told a very obviously fake tale, so that clearly had an interesting story behind it.
In any case, this was a job that needed getting done, and done right - and in that one thing, the woman Elizabeth referred to as Phoenix had an excellent track record, and a ferocious drive to get to the bottom of this Labyrinth. As long as she was assigned tasks that would help her in that, she was reliable.
--
The hour was over. Elizabeth watched the ragtag, yet supposedly elite group of adventurers walk to the river. Right over the bridge, there was Dungeon Hall, built to prevent drunkards or scallywags to accidentially enter the Labyrinth, so surely they would... ... ...well, should have been obvious. Looks like Phoenix had spotted that tiny novelty pub on the bridge and is now trying to get as drunk as possible before entering... so much for the treasure of responsibility.
--
The elevator went down slowly. Another recent construction. Quite expensive if you didn't have a special permit by the Ministry, but still faster and less exhausting than the endless flights of stairs - as to get down to the second stratum, you'd be looking at 30 minutes of straight climbing down stairs. It was only a natural development that several convenience stores, inns and food takeouts have sprung up along these stairs (and they were lobbying to keep the elevator prices up), and adventurers signing up for defense duty could make a pretty penny. Exploration has become a business, and Kingsford was rolling in taxes.
Currently, the elevator was empty aside from the party of five on their special mission. Sedna was reviewing the latest map and a few reports. Marius stoically stood in a corner trying to ignore the elevator music. Stouton tried to romance the passed-out Phoenix, and Desmond just was plain bored. Ten more minutes...
((This is not the point where you submit any large actions, obviously, but if you'd like you can interact with the NPCs.))
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Topic: Roll to Explore the Dungeon: Ch.2 T.38: Do you even praise the King? (Read 121629 times)