015 - HUMANITY IS A THING WORTH LIVING FOR
The mortuary had an uncharacteristically cheery exterior. The usual brickwork of Edge was covered over by a wooden facade that gave the small building - much deeper than it was wide - the look of a cozy cottage along a road fighting a war between industrial architectural efficiency and ad hoc vertical sprawl.
Conrad entered to a sound not dissimilar from the chime that alerted the arrival of new patrons back in his shop in the homestead. It took him back briefly, and he wondered how his mother and grandfather were doing - had they begun to grow concerned? How long had it been? A week?
Knowing his grandfather, it would be another week still before he stopped urging his mother to relax and give him time to himself.
Conrad glanced around the inside of the Mortuary. The room had a small sitting area next to a fireplace, set with comfortable couches and a coffee table, a counter with a small till and some signage and charts about it, and off to one side a curtained off area.
Out from a back room came a kindly looking old man. He moved immediately to offer Conrad a seat in the sitting area with a brief “Do come in, do come inside and relax a moment before we attend to any business.”
“Just business first, thank you, I’m in a hurry and it’s a stranger I’ve brought today,” Conrad said.
“Ah, I understand, in that case –” he gestured to the curtained area and Conrad followed him over. He opened a space for them to enter and closed it behind the two of them. Inside a long flat table and a shelf with some clean linens were the only furniture. The Mortician took a sheet and spread it across the table, gesturing again.
Understanding what was required, Conrad removed the dead woman’s body from his inventory. She landed with a gentle sound of settling clothing and slight shifting of linen, looking now as if she were merely asleep and injured. The Mortician took out a small clipboard.
With his free hand he held it over the body and it glowed with blue light. The man’s eyes moved as if he was reading text and then he glanced over at his clipboard.
“Is there anything else you’ll be needing from me?” Conrad said. He wasn’t eager to get back to the Seekers, but rather, eager to see all this through. And now that he was here, he worried this small nicety would drag into hours of paperwork.
“A moment,” the man said before his finger found what he was looking for on the clipboard, “Camilla Tollehd. Rogue. She’s been reported missing by… Mara Runestone.”
“Mara?” Conrad said, surprised. He had thought the other band, despite seeming to be a good group, had abandoned their friend to be absorbed by the dungeon. Too much time with the Seekers had made him a cynic - this woman, Camilla, had friends. But the situation had been too desperate and her friends did the only thing they could and left her name here in case another adventurer was able to retrieve her body.
“Pretty girl, blonde hair, kitted like a magic user though I couldn’t be sure,” the Mortician said.
“Sounds like her,” Conrad said.
“She’s been coming in each day, today would be the last day we would normally expect any retrieval to be possible. She’s listed here that anybody bringing back Camilla is welcome to her inventory - subject to appraisal and a 20% take by my establishment of course.” The Mortician added the last part in hasty, rehearsed words that were so fast Conrad almost couldn’t understand. But he was a Merchant, after all, and he understood that despite the man’s kindly appearance and the relative wholesomeness of the business he had set up, it was a business.
“Of course, but I’m not interested –” Conrad’s words seized up. He wanted to say he wasn’t interested in the loot, but the Seekers were and so he couldn’t give up the claim.
But he could delay it.
Karina wouldn’t need whatever was in the dead woman’s inventory immediately, “-not interested in collecting right away. Can you do the appraisal and store it for me until I return from the next dive?”
“Certainly,” the man said, bowing slightly, “Some time is required to perform the work anyway and–” the bell rang, signaling a new arrival, “A moment, sir.”
A woman’s voice greeted the man and he replied with genuine pleasure, “Mara Runestone! So pleased you’ve arrived, so pleased! I have somber but good news. You understand, yes?”
“Somebody found her?” Mara asked, voice catching.
Footsteps approached from outside the curtain and suddenly Conrad felt self conscious. Did he look okay? Hardly! He had only had time for a quick splash of water over his face and arms, getting rid of the worst of the grime of the dungeon. That and a fresh set of wrinkled clothes… Nothing for it. He struck what he imagined would look like a cool pose before the curtain moved aside and Mara walked through accompanied by the Mortician.
And she barely glanced at him before her eyes fell on her friend. For a moment she took in the body with its disheveled, torn, and bloody clothing, the wounds that had killed the woman mercifully covered over.
She knelt next to the table and wept. Conrad couldn’t understand the things that she whispered, either to herself or to her friend, but the one phrase he was able to make out was the same two words over and over.
“I’m sorry.”
The catharsis, the solemnity, the simple human decency of recognizing the loss of somebody dear made the utter permanence of death become real to Conrad in a way he had not yet encountered. Killing monsters was one thing, he felt nothing but the rush of battle, the inflow of new XP, the thrill to be the one left standing. But men and women, human beings? The Seekers hadn’t taken from him this reverence for life.
Not yet.
A few minutes later, Mara wiped her eyes and stood. The Mortician was ready with a fresh sheet which he laid over the top of the body and, with a nod from Mara, covered over Camilla’s face as well.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“With your permission I’ll take her to be prepared,” he said, “You may leave my fee with me now or at the till up front if you prefer. I understand how hard it is to deal with money in such times.”
“Of course,” she said, taking a few gold from her inventory and placing them into the man’s hand, “Can you do red? It was her favorite.”
“Any color you wish,” he said, bowing and then kicked a small brake on the table leg and wheeled the whole thing out of the curtained area.
The Mortician was not just an old man, but a skilled professional, perhaps even a former adventurer, who had invested deeply in a skill tree and class. Using his magic he could not only crack inventories - which was the primary source of his revenue - but he could transform the bodies of the men and women brought to him into beautiful gemstones that, when identified, carried the general information of the person who they had once been. A permanent reminder of the progression legacy of the deceased.
“I’ll try to get it back to her parents,” Mara said to Conrad, “The funeral gemstone I mean.”
Conrad only nodded, not sure what to say or even if Mara recognized him.
“I’m both surprised and not surprised it was you who brought her out,” Mara said, “When your band came back without you we figured you were dead, but seeing you here now? Not just a good man, hard to kill to boot, eh Conrad?”
He smiled, “I’ve been working on it. I’m glad to see you ag… glad you made it out safely.”
They stood a moment in awkward silence before Conrad spoke, “We’re heading back down today. Going after the King.”
“Just your group again?” She said, looking skeptical, “I heard you ran into him before and that pretty much ended you - what’s got your band thinking they can handle him this time?”
“No clue,” Conrad said, and then he was struck with an idea. The King was honestly an afterthought for him, but if he wasn’t alone…“I didn’t ask them, but… we’d stand a better shot taking him on together.”
“You might be hard to kill, but are you so eager to get back down there and put yourself to the test again?”
“Not my call,” he said, “But I’ve seen what he can do now. We know what we’re up against.”
She thought a moment and then shrugged, “We’ve been sorta shell shocked since we lost Camilla and Gavin…”
Of course, they had said they’d lost two during their last dive.
“Has anybody brought Gavin back?” Conrad asked.
“Ain’t nothing left of Gavin to bring back,” Mara said.
Conrad nodded gravely and dropped the subject, “Rest and maybe something fun for a change might be a better idea then.”
It had been a chance idea, not well thought out - of course Mara wouldn’t want to get right back into the dungeon after-
“You are new to this aren’t you,” Mara remarked, giving a short bitter chuckle, “Adventurers either get back to it quickly or not at all after a dive like that. And I ain’t done, that’s for sure. Might be another dive is what we need to get out of the funk, you know?”
She considered him a moment, thinking hard on her decision. If she went back into the dungeon it wouldn’t just be with her band - she’d be going based on his word, his information, and implicitly, in concert with the Seekers.
Betting on another person, especially an adventurer Conrad knew now, was not easy.
“Give me a few hours,” she said slowly, “I’ll need to get my band together and there’s a few others who might be interested - you think your information on the King is good? I’m putting my reputation on the line if I bring others with us and there’s nothing to take but less loot split between so many hands.”
“As good as anything first hand,” Conrad said, “He’s on the eighth floor still. Not going to be moving.”
She nodded, “Figures. Everybody thinks he moves as soon as he’s seen and we all spread to every floor except the one where he was found before. No wonder we keep chasing wind and rumor.”
“You’re in then?” he asked.
“You’re a good sort Conrad, not many would have put themselves in harm's way for us like you did… Your band gives me a bad vibe but, if they’ve got you maybe you’re a good enough influence on ‘em… Shucks, why not? Where we meeting?” She asked.
Conrad grinned. This was an unexpected boon.
“How familiar are you with the layout of the eighth?”
“Passingly, we know the major landmarks.”
“There’s a land bridge,” Conrad said, “That spans one side of the river with the other. It’s not too far from the spiral staircase, do you know it?”
She nodded, “I must’ve crossed it a couple times. Should be able to find it.”
“I’ll meet you there when you’re ready,” he said.
“All of ya’ll, right? You’re a tough nut, C, but you’re not trying to solo the Lizard King are you?” she said with a wink.
There was a slight twang to her accent that Conrad liked. And that nickname. Nobody had ever called him C. He liked that too.
“Course that’s what I meant,” Conrad corrected as if it was nothing, “My band will meet you down there.”
She thought a moment, “He’s got a large retinue of Royals from what I gather,” she glanced at Conrad for confirmation before continuing, “the bridge could be a good choke point if we can draw him out. You got a plan to go along with this meeting point?”
“We’ll get it sorted completely once we see what we’ve got to work with,” he said.
“And gear?” Mara asked, eyeing him, “You going to throw together some more garbage and call it armor?”
He laughed, “Fair point. I’ve got a better kit now than when I first went in, but bring blunt weapons - works better on the lizard’s armor.”
“And how about just waiting for us,” she said, “A few hours spent in preparation can’t do but help us all out. No need to be meeting at arbitrary dungeon locales.”
He shook his head, “Not my call. I’m late already.”
“Well,” Mara said standing aside, “I won’t get in your way.”
She held out her arm and Conrad grasped it. She held onto him a few moments longer than was necessary before releasing and saying, “We’ll be there. Should be three, four hours but don’t ya’ll go getting impatient and trying to take him on your own. Save some for the rest of us, ‘kay?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Conrad said. He smiled at her and turned to leave when she stopped him.
“Camilla’s things,” she said, “I know I marked it as giving everything to her finder - and that’s you and they’re yours - but she has something I want to keep. Not valuable, just sentimental is all. Do you think I could have that one thing?”
“What is it?” Conrad asked, not meaning to sound like the Merchant trying to haggle over the price of something, “Sorry, I mean, I told the Mortician to hang onto it all until we got back - talk to you about it then?”
“Right,” she said, “Sure. Don’t get yourself killed before then or I’ll be properly cross with you for it.”
“Cross?” Conrad laughed, “You mean to tell me I should be more afraid of a little thing like you than I should be of literal death down in the dungeon?”
“You better believe it, C” She said, hands on her hips, “I’m a sight when I’m out of sorts.”
He grinned. It felt like he was finally understanding adventurers. Maybe death wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. Maybe letting your friends down was.
He nodded to her and shrugged, “Fuck it. We live.”
“We live,” she repeated back to him, smiling, “See you down there, C.”
“I’ll see you on the bridge, Mara.”
He turned and left with more than a little spring in his step. He had a date to keep. And work to do before he kept it.