Today’s Earth date: October 3? 1991
The fisherman pointed us toward Cuan and gave us directions for a hunting cabin along the way. Spending even another hour with two innocent people was unacceptable.
How am I responsible for people’s lives?
We’re all pretty upset. The last several days have been hard.
Yet, members of our group want to push ahead because we might get better gear in Cuan.
-The Journal of Laszlo the Paladin
***
Wayne and Fergus arrived in Cuan late that night, happily taking a room at the first clean inn they found. With neither of them having visited this city before, they had no advanced knowledge of where to stay, where to eat, and who to talk to. Their only contacts were a University Library and the Cuan branch of Miss Kryss’ trade company, neither of which would welcome visitors in the middle of the night. Of more concern to Fergus, however, was the reliability of the taste levels of those scholars and merchants. He didn’t want to entrust his dining options exclusively to those two sources.
For the first time in several days, Wayne greeted the morning without pain. He felt refreshed and reassembled, like pieces of him had been partially disconnected or working at low-power before because of his injuries. Seeing his hitpoints topped off at 146 was a relief.
He knew this was a “long rest” style of recovery mechanic, but its rules were more strict than many of the RPGs he’d played, particularly those on console. Typically, he could purchase tents or cabins and use those at savepoints to fully refresh his party. The system here seemed to require sleeping in a bed within a town to achieve the same recovery.
Rolling over, he saw he had slept in by a few hours, and Fergus’ bed was empty. He saw a note on the scholar’s pillow and got up to read it:
Running errands, expect to return late afternoon/evening. I intend to:
-Check us in at the Cuan University Library
-Secure proper accommodations
-Identify no less than five worthwhile restaurants for us to try
-See about selling our stock of beef
-Ask around about companies we might hire for our travels
Prioritized in that order.
-F
Wayne smiled. Fergus seemed determined to pitch in wherever he could, and he worried his friend was pushing himself too hard. Though Fergus would never say it, Wayne suspected his inability to contribute on crawls bothered Fergus deeply. He liked to be useful, to be a good teammate, so he seemed to be compensating in other areas of the journey.
Looking at the list he left again, Wayne made a mental note to talk to Fergus about overcompensating again. He didn’t need to put so much pressure on himself.
For Wayne’s part, he could think of two tasks not on Fergus’ list: Visiting Kryss’ local office and looking into the one collector lead they had in Cuan, a private gallery called “Seaview Art and Antiquities.”
After a bath, he could get to work pulling his share of the weight in his partnership with Fergus.
***
The front office for the Cuan branch of the Swiftwood Trading Company was attached to a warehouse near the docks. The space was small enough that Wayne had to suck in his stomach to close the door behind him. A woman with curly gray hair and large glasses gave him a dubious look, as if she was already annoyed by everything he hadn’t said yet.
“I was told to bring this to you to talk about a job,” Wayne said, handing the sealed envelope to the receptionist.
She broke the wax and read the letter. Her eyebrows lifted in mild surprise. “Huh, so they finally found someone. Didn’t think that’d ever happen.”
“Why do you say that?”
Her eyes still on the letter, she answered, “That project has stalled for months. Haven’t found anyone willing to clear the way.”
“...Clear the way?”
The receptionist looked up and laughed. “Miss Kryss didn’t tell you. That’s very much like her.”
“Tell me what?”
“There’s a ratman nest built on this site. Too far from the city for the governor to send soldiers, too large for any of the local hunting companies to be willing to take on the risk.”
Ah. So the nest was big.
“Ms. Galleia is available two days from now, in the morning,” the woman said, flipping through a calendar on her desk. When she saw Wayne’s confused face, she clarified that Ms. Galleria was the general manager of this branch. “Shall I make an appointment?”
“Yes, please.”
A scribble later and the appointment was confirmed.
“Before I go,” Wayne began, “What’s Ms. Galleia like?”
“She grew up with Miss Kryss, and they are similar in many ways. Shoveling bullshit at Ms. Galleia is just as unwise.”
“Understood.”
Before he departed, he asked for directions to Seaview Art and Antiquities.
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***
The gallery was on the second floor of a waterfront building, one of many shops and premium apartments lining the coastline, their windows and balconies pointed at the ocean view.
Seaview Art and Antiquities had a sign in the window that said, “Visits by appointment only.”
The gallery was even more high-end than Wayne expected. Having made the walk, he knocked on the door anyway and savored the smell of ocean air while he waited.
A young man, perhaps in his early twenties, came to the door, slid two deadbolts back, and cracked the door open. He had a feather duster in one hand and a cloth in his back pocket. “Apologies, sir, but visitors must make an appointment.”
“I’d like to do that now, if I could.”
“I’m afraid this is an exclusive gallery. A current patron must recommend you.”
“And that’s the only way?”
The man nodded. “I’m afraid so, sir.”
“My research partner and I traveled here from the Capital on behalf of the Royal Library. We are studying documents left behind by Chosen Heroes. Lord Blackwell and Miss Kryss of Teagaisg suggested one such document was here.”
“Scholars?”
Wayne said that was the case.
“I’m afraid I’m not authorized to schedule appointments, but I can take your information and send word when your request has been reviewed. Where are you staying, sir?”
“We only just arrived, so for now, leaving messages for us at the University Library would be fine.”
“Of course, sir. Will there be anything else?”
Wayne’s errands were complete, and it wasn’t even noon. Bumming around for the rest of the day felt inconsiderate when Fergus would still be so busy. “I don’t mean to keep you from your work, but this is my first time in Cuan. Anything I should know that a tourist might miss?”
“Best to avoid the docks at night, and I’d keep clear of the southeast corner of the city. That’s a dangerous neighborhood, but the rest of Cuan is pleasant. Hard to find a bad restaurant.”
Wayne thanked him and let the man return to his work. The door between them locked a moment later.
He found a guard station not long after and explained the types of people he hoped to hire. As Fergus suspected, they could hire a number of companies specializing in providing an armed escort, but the guard he spoke to didn’t immediately know of any who actively pursued dungeon contracts. As far as he was aware, the groups Wayne could hire either escorted tourists to the Water Temple or provided security for trips from Cuan to Teagaisg or from Cuan to one of the smaller towns inland.
The guard wouldn’t share specifics, but a certain trading company had come through with a similar request and found no takers. Wayne guessed that to be Kryss’ outfit, which made him worry that, perhaps, they would not find the dungeon crawling party he and Fergus hoped to find. At best, they might find security for the journey but would be on their own for any actual dive.
Wayne took the long way back to the inn to soak up the city. Though Cuan was comparable to Teagaisg in overall size, it was busier and more densely populated. He got the feeling that a fair portion of those people were in town temporarily for business and would sail out when their shore leave expired. Sailors didn’t look all that different from other tradesmen, but they were significantly more tan and often had a badge dangling from a belt loop.
Those badges turned out to be identification for various trade companies. He saw badges with the tentacles of a kraken, the tooth of a shark, a jumping fish, praying hands, and a single piece of wheat, which he knew to be Kryss’ logo.
He would have needed to ask for directions on several occasions to make it back to his inn without his Navigation skill. The more he played with it, the more thankful he was that he had it as well as the other HUD upgrades. They weren’t flashy, but damn they were useful.
With time to kill, he went up to his room to retrieve a map, his notes, and a few reference books on dwarven history from Goods Storage.
***
The tavern portion of his current inn was fairly small, and like most restaurants, was slow in the early afternoon. Wayne ordered an ale, asked for a dish of whatever the chef recommended, and spread his materials out on his table, starting with his map.
Cuan was relatively close to the Breaker Mountains, and the Water Temple was northwest up the coast, with a road continuing past it to more towns and hamlets deeper inland. Directly to the west of Cuan was a village named Asplugha, nestled between the scattered peaks that made up the Underway Mountains. Unlike the Breaker Mountains, the Underway Mountains had five distinct formations and wide valleys filled with forest between them. Miss Kryss’ excavation site was on the backside of one of the outer ranges, requiring passage through Asplugha to reach it.
One of Lord Blackwell’s leads was in the Underways as well, but his research suggested a forest location in a valley. Admittedly, that research was relatively thin in this case. Thirty years ago, children hunting with their father got lost in the forest, and when they were found, they described sheltering by a “fancy stone house.” The woods were searched then, and Blackwell’s people searched them again recently. Both failed to find the stone house the children claimed to see.
They needed more to go on before Wayne was willing to pursue the lead. Combing a forest that large was impractically difficult. The area was massive, the terrain was varied, and the foliage was dense. Until they had information other than “somewhere south of Asplugha… maybe,” his travel plans would include only Kryss’ digsite for now.
A man with a long gray beard, a balding head, and the dark leathery skin of a sailor asked what Wayne was working on. Aside from the bartender, they were the only two patrons in the tavern.
“Trying to do some research and exploring,” Wayne said. “New here, so getting a feel for the region.”
The man took that as an invitation to sit. Wayne stacked a few books to make room on the table for his guest’s stein.
“Nothing but rocks, sticks, and ratmen in the Underway Mountains,” the man said, frowning at the map. “Folks in Asplugha aren’t too friendly, either.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
“They don’t get many visitors, and the ones they do get usually show up, get lost in the forest, and need rescuing.”
“I guessed you for a sailor,” Wayne said.
The man laughed. “You guessed, right. Born right here in Cuan, though. My pop took me hunting in the Underways a few times when I was a youngin.”
“Still sailing?”
The man nodded as he took a gulp of ale. “Been with this crew for about ten years now, and we do a four-port route. Across the sea, three ports on two continents, then back.”
Wayne said that was interesting and asked if the man had recommendations for finding people to hire.
“Getting a hunting guide in Asplugha should be easy. Lots of them there. More folks than that? Going to be tough. All the professionals already have jobs with merchants or nobles, pretty cushy ones too. You can find muscle-for-hire, but I’m not sure I’d want to be asleep with a bunch of them around.”
Wayne understood his meaning.
“What would be in the woods that would make a scholar curious?”
“How do you know I’m a scholar?”
The man laughed. “You aren’t local, you definitely aren’t a deckhand, a noble, or a merchant. Figure a man that comes over the Breakers with a bunch of books has to be a scholar.”
Wayne said that was an astute guess.
The door to the tavern opened, and Fergus stepped inside. Wayne called to him before he could go all the way up the stairs.
Fergus approached with his chin high and sporting a self-satisfied grin. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but Wayne, I have secured our accommodations. I’m heading upstairs to pack.”
“Now?”
Fergus took Wayne’s stein and gulped the last third to empty it. “There you go. All of our business here is resolved. Let’s get going.”
Wayne thanked the sailor for the conversation, bought him a drink, and followed Fergus up to their room.