After leaving the Tuprup Tribe’s dungeon, we rested at an inn just outside of Astlerwood National Forest. It not only marked the boundary to the country of Athir, but spanned almost border to border. There had been a few centuries where it had to be furiously protected by the Forest Elves from people who only saw it as a resource, but almost all logging operations had ceased.
The country’s government knew that some work had to be done and allowed certain businesses and families to remove trees for their own purposes, but the process was a lengthy one. Elven bureaucracy took far longer than what I was used to in Human-led lands like New Frausta. According to Ferrisdae, the plans for the road we took from the inn to Athir took over forty years before they got reviewed, then thirty more to be accepted.
It then took only two to build.
And the only ones that complained were the short lived races. The Elves thought that this was the best way to do things. For someone whose childhood lasted 120 or so years, I could see it, but it wasn’t something I would put up with as I was now.
Thanks to the incredibly comfortable weather, Ferrisdae cast her Skymirror Carriage without the roof. I hadn’t even been aware it could do that, but we were enjoying the breeze in the shade of the large trees flanking the road. We worked on paperwork in relative silence, though her ponytail hanging outside and floating in the wind was distracting.
The carriage shifted more than it should have as we transitioned onto a stone bridge to cross a river four times the width of our vehicle. Frowning, I looked downstream. I could make out a large body of water that stretch out almost as far as I could see.
“That’s Loch Geodoreo,” Ferrisdae said as she saw me staring. “My family has a house there that we would go to every summer. There’s a dungeon at the very bottom, but the lake is large enough that you can swim near the beaches without worry.”
“I know, we’ll be going there soon,” I replied before frowning. “Though, out of all the dungeons we’re auditing, that one seems like the one we'll worry about least. Underwater dungeons usually have a fairly elastic margin of error when it comes to mortality rates simply because their environment is so hazardous. The ones that are killing adventurers at a higher rate that don't come with a risk of drowning are more of a priority.”
Ferrisdae tilted her head. “I know it's not as big a priority, but why aren’t we doing it now? Since we’re passing it, I mean. It's on the way.”
I rolled my eyes. “You literally just said the reason.”
“I said that…” she trailed off before nodding. “Right, my family has a house there. We’re Dungeon Inspectors. You think there’s someone there to ambush us and keep us from doing our very important work since lives are on the line.”
“Well put. And I don't think we'll get ambushed, I know we'll get ambushed,” I said, nodding behind Ferrisdae. “Because they’re already on the carriage.”
She blinked in confusion before looking back. I couldn’t see anything, but I knew for a fact that we had a visitor; I’d ridden in the Skymirror Carriage enough to know when it acted abnormally, such as when we got onto the bridge. Sighing as she looked back to me, I stood up with a vial of ink and knelt on the back seat before dumping it out.
Some of it spilled onto the ground, but the vast majority of it splattered onto something invisible. “Come on!” the invisible man yelled, his accent the same as Ferrisdae’s. “I’m just hitching a ride, I’m not doing anything wrong!”
Ferrisdae’s ears twitched. “Masatera?” she asked hesitantly.
The man became visible, and he gave a quick wave. His resemblance to Ferrisdae was strong, which I could see despite the splattered line of ink running across his face. He wiped it off and glanced between us nervously before settling on her with a strained grin on his face.
“Hey, little cousin,” he said, trying to act casually despite the fact that he was hanging off of the back of the carriage. “Mind letting me hitch a ride back to Athir? It’s a long walk back from the lake house, you know.”
“Ambush,” I repeated.
“No, I wasn’t ambushing, I was just…” he took a moment. “I haven’t seen little Ferry in a few decades, so I wasn’t sure how to approach her, is all.”
“Ambush,” I repeated again.
“I wasn’t sent here by the family to spy or nothing,” Masatera claimed, though he had started sweating. “For real. This really is just a social call.”
Glancing at Ferrisdae, I shrugged. This was something that she had predicted her family would pull right down to where it would happen. It had been down to using some kind of stealth skill or straight up asking for a ride, and now both had come true.
Instead of rounding on Masatera, I turned to my junior and put my hands on my hips. I gave her my best scowl. “If this is how your family is going to act, then it will not reflect well on you, Junior Dungeon Inspector Ferrisdae,” I said, voice low and threatening. “I will give you a few minutes to clear this up, but if this becomes a recurring problem then there will be consequences.”
“Please, Badger,” Ferrisdae said. “I’m-“
“Dungeon Inspector Badger,” I corrected. “That is my title and, while I know you don’t do well sticking to decorum , I must once again insist you use it. Now, stop the wagon. I’m going to file another complaint with Chief Inspector Brackenhorst while you waste our precious time. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied meekly, lowering her head.
The Skymirror Carriage slowed to a stop at her mental command, and I inwardly relished the panic stricken expression on Masatera’s face. Pulling out my Sending Stone, I looked him dead in the eye. “State your name and relation to my junior. For the record.”
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“I, um,” he said dumbly, eyes wide.
“That’s not your name,” I told him sternly. “You can stop clinging to the carriage now.”
“Masatera,” he answered as he set his feet on solid ground. Now that he was fully standing, I could tell he was much taller than his cousin.
“Anne Runelara?” I prodded, swiping my finger across the Sending Stone as if I were writing a message.
He shook his head. “I’m in a branch family. Masatera Dav Runelara.”
“We’re cousins on my great great grandfather’s side,” Ferrisdae added, trying to be helpful.
“Mmhmm. Spell your name for me,” I continued, not giving any indication that it was helpful or not.
“M-A-S-A-T-E-R-A,” he started. “D-A-“
“I can spell Dav Runelara,” I snapped before glancing at Ferrisdae. “Figure this out quick.”
“Yes, sir,” she said again.
With a snort, I opened the door and let myself out. Masatera was quick to jump in. “I am so, so sorry. I’m-” he whispered before I heard a hard thud. “Ow! Why do your punches hurt so much? You're a sor- OW!“
“Do you realize how much goodwill you just threw out of the carriage with your little stunt?” she snarled, rounding on him. “I can not believe-“
I had to suppress a smile as I walked. They were whispering back and forth, my junior’s voice heated and her cousin’s apologetic. Just out of earshot, I could hear their tones but couldn’t make anything specific out, though I already knew what Ferrisdae would be saying.
Anyone looking into me for my work at the Department of Dungeons would know that I didn’t have the greatest track record with apprentices. Part of it was a personal failing, I knew I was a terrible teacher, but most of it was the fact that I couldn’t get along with people I couldn’t respect.
The rookies they threw at me for years were not those I thought respectable. I was hard on them for reasons that made total sense to me. They had thought this was a job where they were going to be pampered or live an easy life, so I knocked that idea out of their head. I didn’t do it physically, of course, but they had to know the stakes.
More people left the Department of Dungeons as my former apprentices than for any other Dungeon Inspector. Some transferred to softer positions to do desk work or even under other Inspectors, but that was fine. We needed bodies for all the work, I understood. It just clashed with my personal experience.
This was a dangerous job, and I was given assignments more deadly than most anyone. While I did take on just as many normal cases as others of my tenure, I had more subjugations under my belt than even the chief because of my background. For me, it was a matter of survival; if I couldn’t respect someone, then I didn’t trust them to watch my back.
I respected Ferrisdae. Begrudgingly at first, but she grew on me. So I trusted her when she came up with this scheme. They knew my reputation, and we would bank on that. Thankfully, the plan just required me to be a mean son of a bitch.
That was easy; I was a mean son of a bitch.
So I spent some time swiping on my Sending Stone before placing my hands on my hips and staring out into the forest. There was always a chance Masatera wasn’t alone, so I kept up appearances until I was called.
“Dungeon Inspector Badger, we’re done, sir,” Ferrisdae said. I turned around to see a very brow beaten Elf sitting next to her, and headed their way. “Though, it is true that we’re a ways from Athir. Do you mind if we take him the rest of the way?”
“We can’t discuss business with him in the carriage,” I stated, scowling. “But fine, so long as he doesn’t mind being interrogated.”
“I'm sorry, interrogated?” Masatera asked quietly.
“Yes. You’re a Runelara, aren’t you?” I asked as I got into the carriage and took a seat. “That means you’re an adventurer. I certainly hope Junior Dungeon Inspector Ferrisdae here wasn’t fooled by someone who can’t even survive a dungeon.”
“I am! I am most certainly an adventurer, sir,” he quickly confirmed. “One of the best rogues in the family, branch or otherwise. The fact that she didn’t detect me isn’t anything against her, sir. I’m just really good. I’m actually surprised that you were able to figure me out, sir.”
“Stop calling me sir so much,” I snapped. “I don’t like cowards or yes men.”
“Of course,” he replied, stopping before he could call me sir again.
Nodding, I glanced at Ferrisdae. “Was he sent by your family for any particular purpose? Such as trying to influence our work for the Department of Dungeons?”
“No, Dungeon Inspector Badger,” she answered firmly, though she didn’t look me in the eye. “Masatera really was only trying to hitch a ride with us from the lake house. We hadn’t seen each other in so long and we’re on the job, so he wasn’t sure what to do. The carriage is fast, however, and he had to make a choice quickly.”
Masatera’s eyes lit up as Ferrisdae covered for him. It seemed like he wasn’t all that great at hiding his emotions, and he was easy to read. I would bet that his gratitude was real.
Snapping my fingers, his attention returned from his cousin to me. “Masatera.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, immediately becoming worried again.
“Have you heard any strange rumors about the dungeons around the capital city?” I asked, leaning forward. "Dungeon related, obviously."
“Strange rumors?” Masatera asked, leaning back in response as if trying to get away from me.
I glanced from him to Ferrisdae for just a moment. “Yes. Do you need context for what’s considered strange?”
“No, I was just making sure that was what you said,” he offered nervously. “But, no. There hasn’t been anything really strange that I know of, but I haven’t been going into dungeons much. I’ve been working on my pottery.”
“Pottery,” I said, deadpan.
“Yeah. It’s soothing, okay?” he asked defensively. “Adventuring can be really stressful.”
I glanced again from him to Ferrisdae. “This rock really won’t bear water, will it?”
“Probably not,” she answered apologetically.
“Hey! I take offense to that,” he said, showing some spine. At least, until I looked at him again. Then, he took a breath. “Okay, fine. You want to hear something strange? There’s a lot of talk about a pair running around to the different dungeons. They appeared a couple of days ago and have barely stopped to rest. It’s got the local Consortium branch in a tizzy.”
“That sounds promising,” I said, offering him a small amount of praise. “Do you know anything about this mystery pair?”
“Not… really,” he admitted.
“Like squeezing water from a stone,” I sighed.
“All I know is it’s some guy and his pet moose,” Masatera offered. “But don’t call the moose a pet, apparently. There’s been a few scuffles over that.”
Silence passed over the carriage for a moment as Ferrisdae and I processed this information.
“Gods dammit,” I swore as my junior began to grin.
Because of course she would.