The Fallen World : A Dungeon's Story

Interlude 1

Red Sands Desert, Asarian Kingdom Border

City of Darthar, Elkaryos’ residence

Elkaryos sighed and leaned back in his seat.

The last few days had been...interesting, to say the least. The discovery of the new dungeon (and his partnership with Allya and Pyn) had already dumped a whole lot of work in his arms, and he’d spent the three days until the departure of the expedition running around, snapping up ships, supplies, and talents to ensure it would succeed. He wondered if the two new nobles would realize that, but he felt reasonably sure they would. That was good. It would engender gratitude, which would avoid the sort of...unfortunate accidents that happened in corporate dominions from time to time.

Like, say, the noble in power deciding that they didn’t need the corporation they had partnered with originally, and that a swift removal of their personnel was the easiest option. Some were smart enough to kick them out, pile them into an escorted convoy, and send them back to civilization. Others decided to simply exile them, and see if they survived the wilds. The most idiotic just executed everyone.

Needless to say, that kind of behavior rarely ended well. The thing that the nobles failed to grasp was that first, that was very much illegal. Even the Asarian Kingdom, with its entrenched and privileged nobility, plus its isolationist internal economy, couldn’t function without international corporations, and all the rules and regulations they brought with them. If you signed a corporate dominion before the WMC, you better believe it was going to be enforced. Oh, no one would send any hit squads after you, but they didn’t need to. The WMC would simply place an interdict upon you—which meant that no deal, transfer of land, or financial transaction could be made through the canals of the WMC or guaranteed by it to the person under said interdict.

Needless to say, that pretty much destroyed the prosperity of whoever was placed under it. Suddenly banks were unwilling to deal with you, and anything but the smallest scale transaction (for a noble domain) became incredibly difficult. What’s more, everyone knew you were under the interdict, and well, most realms were already cutthroat enough with internecine noble assassinations and covert warfare. That wasn’t even factoring in that the crown would usually just exile you and strip you of your titles, usually with the full backing of the nobles, which wasn’t exactly an easy thing to do given how fiercely they defended their own lands and prerogatives.

He wasn’t truly afraid of that happening, however. If the two women were insane enough to even consider it—which he rather doubted—the Sakura should have been a pointed reminder that messing with an influential member of the Omega conglomerate, the largest manufacturer of weaponry after the Eris Empire’s own arms procurement program, was contraindicated, to say the least.

That wasn’t even counting his status as a Master Merchant of the merchants guild, which carried a reputation so ominous—and rightly so, to be fair—that people rarely even looked past it.

He shook himself and went back to the papers scattered on his desk. There were already too few hours in the day for him to waste some of them just sitting there, thinking. He didn’t have news from the expedition just yet, mainly because the communication relays in Darthar, installed several centuries ago, had been paid for by the then incredibly money-pinching city council. They had thus been built by the lowest bidder and were barely sufficient to hold up to the city’s needs, with their “network coverage” barely reaching beyond the walls. That meant that unlike in other places, getting communications into the wastelands was impossible. Unless, of course, you were Guildmaster Starvak and had access to the guild’s private network, which had made sure to install the best relays it could get its hands on—and that usually meant declassified Erisian military tech—on every guildhall bordering the wastelands, to ensure communications in the event of a particularly important wasteland event.

He’d considered cashing in a few favors to get access to the network but decided against it. Given how influential the adventurers guild was going to be in the new dungeon town, and how much of a pain in the ass he knew it could prove—the guild presence in Darthar itself being a pointed example—he’d rather keep some aces up his sleeve, and save his assets for more profitable endeavors.

He absentmindedly read an application form for some artificer wanting to get to the dungeon town and form a business relationship with his company, then moved his hand for the stamp of approval on his desk, before freezing, and rereading the form once more. His eyes widened slightly, and he snapped his fingers. The house—he wondered how many people realized just what it truly was—relayed the message to Jeremy, who quickly opened the door and poked his head in.

“Yes, master?”

The dark elf snickered.

“None of that nonsense when guests aren’t here! Jeremy, I’ve gotten some...interesting applications. Could you draft me a couple of invitations? They’re for...” He looked at the form intently. “Miss Eismi Lorien and Miss Ellyana Lorien. They should be residing in the Silverdawn Inn.”

The butler’s eyes slightly widened at the mention of the very pricy and highly exclusive magic user inn, and he nodded.

“Of course, it shall be done.” At Elkaryos’ dirty look, he chuckled. “Alright, I’m on it. Expect them in...three hours, so you can clean up this mess.”

The butler gave his master and old friend‘s desk a pointed look, and Elkaryos waved his hand, laughing.

“Alright, alright! I’ll have everything in order! My, this office might even look civilized by the time they get here.”

Jeremy sniffed haughtily and then left the office, closing the door behind him, as Elkaryos shook his head, amused. There were very few people that dared talk to him like that, and fewer still in that category that didn’t want him dead. Then again, adventuring side by side had that effect on people. It was fascinating how many ex-adventurers that ended up in positions of power tended to recruit old teammates and acquaintances as aids, bodyguards, and such. To be fair, once you were in those positions of power, having someone you knew could be trusted to cover your back from, say, untimely daggers or high-velocity lead poisoning, was invaluable.

Elkaryos took a deep breath, looked at his office...and decided that Jeremy probably had a point for once. He knew he had a tendency to let go of tidiness when he was focused on something else, but he’d seen tidier elder wyrms researchers, which was saying something. He could call in his maid, Esmeralda, but he was nothing if not paranoid when paperwork was concerned. Not necessarily because he was afraid of it being stolen—not that minimizing the risks of espionage wasn’t worth it in its own right—but because he didn’t want it to get lost or misfiled. Especially when said paperwork related to oh, say, contracts for a dungeon town that was well poised to eventually be worth all of his other assets.

Combined.

And that was only the 15% he was going to own once that sneaky elf finished buying back his shares. He still wasn’t sure if he should be counting it as genius on her part, or stupidity on his. He’d decided on a little bit of both.

He sighed and began cleaning up the paperwork.

*****

“Master, Miss Eismi and Ellyana,” Jeremy said, as he opened the door, and two young women stepped through.

Elkaryos smiled and went to meet them as his eyes registered every little detail.

The first, and most obvious one, was the pair of white-furred, black-tipped fox ears on top of their heads, accompanied by the long, once again white-furred and black-tipped fox tail behind them. That meant they were beastkin, although most people simply referred to them as humans, due to the fact that they were nearly the same...and some weird fashion choices in the Eris Empire following some biology and surgery breakthrough had blurred the line quite a bit. Next was the fact that the two women were virtually identical. Twins, or clones then.

He hid a frown as he noticed the fact that they weren’t quite identical. The one on the right, her right eye looked...odd. Almost like...

He clasped the right woman’s hand, smiling as he tried his best to keep his expression calm. That woman had a cybernetic eye. And arm. That was unusual. And unless they were Gorromarian, which he doubted, it meant a lot of things about their skill in their respective fields. Plus, it outlined pretty thoroughly who was the artificer, and who was the alchemist in the pair—not that there should have been much doubt, given that the one on the left had potion vials sticking out of every pouch and pocket.

So, since Eismi was the artificer, she was probably the one on the right, and Ellyana, the alchemist, the one on the left.

“Greetings Miss Eismi.” He bowed slightly to the other twin. “And Miss Ellyana. It’s a pleasure to meet you! Please, do take a seat.” He gestured at the sofas and waited for both women to be seated before sitting down himself on the couch opposite them. Since they hadn’t corrected him, he had guessed right. Probably. Some particularly mischievous twins or clones wouldn’t set things straight, but he guessed they would.

“Thank you for receiving us, Master Elkaryos,” Eismi said, as she settled down. “We know you have a rather busy schedule. I was hoping our application would garner your attention, but...” She shrugged. “There was no guarantee of that, and my sister and I were...hesitant to call for you directly.”

Elkaryos nodded.

“Which would have probably been less than successful, actually.” He smiled. “It’s incredible the number of people that want to talk to me in person for ‘very important business’ now that I am, at least in part, the owner of a dungeon town. Or at least the land on which such a town will be built.” He shrugged. “In any case, your application did gather my curiosity. It’s rare for an artificer of your talent to apply for corporate partnerships in this way. And it’s even rarer for someone of your...particular origin to end up here, in the Asarian Kingdom.”

He looked attentively into the women’s eyes, but apart from a passing shadow, they kept their composure. Good, at least they weren’t that susceptible.

“We have learned to be patient with other cultures Master Elkaryos. No matter how much we may...disagree with them.”

Elkaryos nodded as he heard what he felt was a massive understatement. According to their respective applications, they were both hailing from the New Raleigh University of the Sciences, a rather prestigious academy that trained some very fine artificers and alchemists indeed, among other professions.

The problem was the first part of the name. It was situated in the Free City of New Raleigh. The one founded by Rook the Sunderer, after his march out of the dying Orlov Empire, with the massive contingent of slaves he had freed. To say that its inhabitants hated slavery was like saying elves might be slightly discriminatory against orcs. And they weren’t afraid of making their rejection for the practice crystal clear, as well as “discouraging” other nations from continuing it. If they hadn’t been led by Rook the Sunderer, and his party of eternium- and divinium-ranked allies, The Seven, New Raleigh would have probably been razed to the ground millennia ago for its interference and support for slave uprisings. Of course, it was under the leadership of Rook the Sunderer, and no one was insane enough to challenge the man that had burned down the two capital cities of the Orlov Empire and executed its emperor in his own damned palace as it was burning around them. After going through everything the entire city, its garrison, and the palace guard could throw at him. Well, no, that wasn’t quite true. A few people—mostly rulers—had tried over the millennia to attack his city.

The example he had made of them was still remembered, although unlike the UDC he at least didn’t make a habit of dismantling, or outright wiping out nations, as he usually settled for taking a few heads at the top, and letting the competing factions scrambling to take power rip the nation apart for him.

“That is very good to hear.” He held up his hand. “Not that I disagree with your point of view, don’t get me wrong.” He looked her straight in the eye, letting her see his sincerity, and Eismi slowly nodded. “But because such cultural conflicts could prove...problematic.” He sighed. “Either way, you and your sister wanted to make a partnership with me, in particular, to assess and exploit the resources and loot of the dungeon.”

“Yes indeed,” Ellyana said, speaking for the first time. Elkaryos turned toward her, and she held her palm up like she was weighing something. “Oh, I have little doubt that we will find something worthwhile to exploit, or at least that my sister will, so the assessment part is mostly about finding the most profitable products, not determining whether there are interesting ones at all.” She smiled. “Although I do hope you’ll forgive me if I say I’d really like the dungeon to have something for me as well, but the absence of it would hardly be a deal breaker. Alchemists are always in high demand in dungeon towns, and if worse comes to worst, my sister is also a skilled enchantress.”

Elkaryos nodded. He’d noticed that on her application. He would have been tempted to assume it was just a side effect of her artificer training—you needed to be good with enchantments if you had any hope of being a worthwhile artificer (far away, a certain dungeon core’s avatar sneezed)—but the level of qualification had dissuaded him from thinking that. Yes, you got some degrees in enchantment from completing your artificer course, but not that many...or the most advanced ones. Her sister was also...odd. Because while she seemingly had far fewer diplomas than her sibling, she also packed some of the highest you could get in alchemy without requiring you to be, well, of high level to even hope to get them.

He also had a sneaking suspicion as to which job she’d had when she’d been working for Stiriar Incorporated in one of their weapons plants, although he’d have to check to be sure.

“Indeed. Although, hopefully, it won’t come to that.” He settled back onto the sofa slightly. “So, you would like to be on the very next convoy or caravan to the dungeon? That could be arranged, of course."

He leaned forward as he started laying out his terms, and the negotiations began.

*****

Elkaryos slowly, rhythmically tapped his finger on his desk as he contemplated the night vista of Darthar before him. The window behind his desk might look like just another ego project—many nobles liked to have those so they could justify having their backs to their guests—but he was genuinely fond of how the city looked. Usually, it reassured him, and let him feel the heartbeat of its people, although most of the time that was corroborated by reports and his own experience from walking through the streets.

Today, that heartbeat felt...frenetic. Everyone knew that there was a new dungeon of course, but things had calmed down a bit ever since the original convoy had departed. But now that the follow-up caravans were starting to assemble...

According to his contacts in the city guard, already half a dozen people had been murdered or sent to the hospital for their place in the caravans, whether personally or for their businesses. Some of the more idiotic ones tried to immediately fill in the slot, or in one particular case, tried to pass themselves off as the original owner of the writ. That attempt had been fairly short-lived, since said writs were signed with the original owner’s mana signature, and the caravan masters had a copy of it and another backup of the signature in their personnel list to compare any documents with. Still, there were at least three where no one knew who had done it, and that was worrying.

Contrary to most people’s belief, Darthar hadn’t been incorporated into the Kingdom. Not fully, at any rate. It was no longer a frontier principality, but it still remained aloof from the usual political currents. And that meant that there were quite a few people that felt the power vacuum left by the absence of the usual nobles. Now, that vacuum had suited Elkaryos just fine, as not only did it provide him with a considerable amount of influence through his virtual, if unofficial, control of the count, but it also meant that there weren’t a bunch of stuck up, inbred idiots trying to wrangle him out because he was an “uppity commoner with delusions of grandeur,” never mind the fact that he owned more land than most dukes through his own corporate dominions. Although to be fair, given some of the...creative structures he’d had to create to avoid rather punitive taxes (and some serious scrutiny), it was unlikely common knowledge just how much land he owned.

In fact, he’d have bought a title of nobility if it wouldn’t have been so detrimental to his business. People tended to trust merchants a lot more than they did nobles—something to do with the more idiotic ones thinking they could get away from an agreement by imprisoning or eliminating the other party—and certain countries outright refused to work with nobles from another nation. The merchants guild itself didn’t care either way, but it was common knowledge within it that those with titles of nobility had some doors closed to them. And the other doors those titles opened mainly related to internal politics, and although those could turn out to be profitable—the amount of graft someone in a large nation’s military procurement comity could make was enormous—it was rarely worth the hassle of being drawn into the internal politics.

In any case, the power vacuum meant that a lot of merchants, usually from outside the guild, smelled blood in the water and were swarming to take as big a bite as they could before someone, like say, the crown, reined them in. They were going to be sorely disappointed in that, of course, as the first convoy included a royal envoy, but they didn’t know about it, or were too greedy to care.

That meant that right now the city was very upbeat, and that chaos was simmering beneath the surface. Not enough to make more than a few waves, but still enough to be noticeable if you knew where to look. And that meant trouble. Because as sure as the sun rose in the east, the Republic would try to take control of the dungeon town. And if the war he feared came to be, a single defeat, and some generous guarantees and “donations” from the Patriarchs and Matriarchs that ruled the Republic, could turn Darthar into a massive powder keg. One that he was firmly sitting in the blast radius of.

Needless to say, he wasn’t thrilled.

He sighed, and looked back at his desk. On it were a small series of contracts, the ones he’d just signed with the twins. Overall, he was satisfied. Although he hadn’t gotten the best terms and dividends, they were still some very nice ones indeed. Besides, the value they would add to the town was worth considering more than the share of their sales he got to taste. He was sure two enterprising young women like them could find ways to increase the profitability of the dungeon and make themselves quite useful to the town as a whole. He’d sent them on their way with a letter of recommendation as well, written for Allya and Pyn, and failing to find them, Myskaros too. At least, if the nobles refused to meet with them, they could still settle things out with the expedition director.

Elkaryos sighed again, and stretched, before getting up from his seat. He should probably head to bed, not only because he needed rest like anyone else, but also because otherwise, his wife would just give him that resigned look of hers, and that always made him feel more guilty than any long-winded argument about his long hours could.

He moved toward the door and exited his office, Jeremy wordlessly following suit.