“You wouldn’t pay ten rings to skip six miles of walking?” asked Alfric.
“We wanted it in Traeg’s Knob,” said the boy, cutting in on a conversation that had moved its focus away from him.
“Who is ‘we’?” asked Alfric.
“My mom and dad,” said Bib. “They wanted it to stay in the Hill House.”
“Well, that’s not happening,” said Alfric. “Sorry. I said on the note that I was keeping it there only for a bit.”
“But you did pull it from our dungeon,” Bib ventured. “So we should have some say.”
“That’s not the law,” said Alfric.
“Well it should be,” said Bib, who seemed to have quite a bit of conviction about this despite being a shirtless boy riding a large bird.
“No,” said Alfric. “Because then you’d have someone whose job it was to camp out by the dungeon entrance, and to check to see what people came out with, and to make sure they weren’t ‘stealing’ from the dungeon. Those people, those dungeon guards, they’d be going up against five people who were well armed with lots of magic and expertise in how to kill things. And on top of that, those five people are going to be gone from the area in short order, so it would be hard to catch them. Tell me, would you want to be sitting around a dungeon entrance, in charge of stopping powerful people from taking things out of it?”
“No,” said the boy. “I guess not.”
“He’s talkin’ spit,” said Hannah. “The real reason it’s not done is because if it were, dungeoneers simply wouldn’t come, and if they did, they wouldn’t have nearly the incentive to pick the dungeon clean. We wouldn’t have lugged this thing out of the dungeon if we had thought the locals would try to steal it from us.”
“The real reason,” said Mizuki., “is that all the dungeons are under an ancient curse. If you try to accost people coming out of a dungeon, you’ll die in the next seven days.” She wiggled her fingers in his direction.
“You made that up,” said Bib.
“Maybe, maybe not,” said Mizuki.
“It’s very hard to say,” said Alfric. “Mizuki is a font of unconventional wisdom.”
“Well, I think we should keep the wardrobe,” said Bib. He seemed stubborn, which Hannah liked in a child.
“Well, you’re free to think that,” said Alfric. “If you need to, go tell your father that we’re taking it, and I can quote the relevant laws to him along with a brief history of why things are structured the way there are. There’s a real depth of governmental policy and extraction philosophy to go over.”
“Um,” said the boy. “I don’t think so.” He squeezed his legs on the side of the bird a bit, making it trot further down the path. “It was nice to meet you.”
“Have a good rest of your life,” said Alfric as they watched the boy go off into the distance.
“Think he’ll be back with his pa?” asked Hannah.
“No,” said Mizuki. “Alfric has successfully weaponized being boring.”
“It’s actually not that boring,” said Alfric. “There are a lot of stories from both sides, especially stuff before the League more or less had control or in places where the laws were different. I just said it in a boring way.”
“It seems boring,” said Mizuki.
“You think armed conflict between professional dungeoneers and townspeople sounds boring?” asked Alfric. “The history is quite long. A lot of warp conflicts too, since any kind of taxation or extortion at the point of exit from the dungeon could just be avoided by warping out. But I won’t bore you with any of it.”
“You said a lot of things,” said Mizuki. “And I am interested in learning more, but I’m worried the answers are boring.”
“Warp conflict just means any kind of fight that takes place at a warp point,” said Hannah. “No need to use that kind of language for it.”
“But that’s what it’s called,” said Alfric.
“So you use the warp and end up surrounded by people with swords?” asked Mizuki. “Sounds horrible.”
“Doesn’t happen much these days,” said Alfric.
“He says, with a wistful sigh,” said Hannah.
“Well, you know me well enough to know what that’s about,” said Alfric.
“See, I think I’m fortunate,” said Mizuki. “All the things I really want to do are things that no one is going to stop me from doing, like making noodles with Hannah or having a cup of tea.”
“The thing I really want to do, going into dungeons, just has the hitch of needing like-minded people,” said Alfric. “Aside from that, people are eager for me to do it. Most of the barriers have been stripped away, nothing like in the past.”
They walked for a bit. The weather was quite nice, which they had already said their thanks to Isra for. There seemed to be an unusual amount of butterflies about, but that might have been because of the area they were traveling through. A few of them, small blue ones, seemed to be attracted to the wardrobe, and they landed on it from time to time, just enough that it was noticeable.
“Do you think we’re going to see more of that child?” asked Hannah. “Or his father?”
“I don’t know,” said Alfric. “But I know the law, and I’m ready for a shakedown.”
“Does that happen?” asked Mizuki.
“Not often,” said Alfric. “There are a lot of things that surround the business we’re in though, things like counterparties and dungeon assistants and stuff of that nature. Shakedowns happen every once in a while, and you just tell them to piss off or suffer the wrath of the higher-ups.” ‘Piss off’ sounded like unusually strong language coming from Alfric. “Hexmaster is probably the highest position in the hex, but if he gets the attention of the provincial chief, it’s possible the whole hex would face sanction.”
“I kind of feel like comp schooling let me down,” said Mizuki. “We never learned about any of this.”
“It’s nothin’ you would learn,” said Hannah. “No sense in teachin’ children about the way the world really works and especially not the things that only help if you’re goin’ into a lot of dungeons.”
“Well, still,” said Mizuki. “I feel like I’m playing catch-up.”
“There’s really not all that much you need to know,” said Alfric. “Honestly, of things I know, ten percent is useful, another ten percent is useful if a single person in the party knows it, and the other eighty percent is trivia. A lot of the useful things to know can just be taken as they come. And I really don’t want to bore you.”
“Alfric just needs to learn to punch up the borin’ stuff,” said Hannah. “I’m sure there are all kinds of great stories he’s got to tell. Alfric, you’ve gotta tell them as stories, it makes it less painful to get a lesson.”
“Is it a lesson for you?” asked Alfric. “I’d thought you knew a lot about the dungeon life.”
“Well, ay,” said Hannah. “But I was never in the Junior League, and my parents aren’t both dungeoneers, so I imagine there are things you picked up that I didn’t.” There was a reason that she’d nominated herself as his lieutenant rather than attempting to take the reins from him. Alfric knew dungeoneering backward and forward, which was likely to be because his parents had imparted their fair share of knowledge but also because he had a fiery passion for it.
“So you were saying about dungeon assistants?” asked Mizuki. “How is that different from this counterparty thing we’re going to have?”
“For the more popular dungeons, people set up shop outside them,” said Alfric. “But it needs to be a quite popular dungeon, because each dungeon is only done once in a person’s life, so it’s not all that common. And what you do if you’re setting up shop outside a dungeon… well, it depends.” He seemed to think about what Hannah had said. “My mom used to tell a story about coming out of a dungeon, half dead, only to find a boy probably not much older than Bib who tried to get her to pay an exorbitant amount of money for healing. She was sitting there, bleeding, trying to negotiate with him, while explaining that most of her best stuff was bound to her and couldn’t be given away.” Hannah’s mind wandered to the missing bits of that story, like why his mother wouldn’t have just warped. There were answers, but they were the kind of answers that he’d decided the story didn’t need, or perhaps they were a sign of embellishment.