This Used To Be About Dungeons полностью

“I still need to wake up—or sleep some more,” said Verity. “I’ll be around if you need me. Let me know when you’re planning to go to the dungeon.”

“I was hoping for sixth bell or sooner,” said Alfric.

Mizuki laughed. “Big-city energy,” she said, grinning. “It’s a change of pace, that’s for sure.”

“I’ll think about it,” said Verity.

“Do,” said Alfric. He stood up and gave her a bow. “It was a pleasure to meet you again. I hope we have something more firm in the near future.”

“So, what else do you know about our mystery girl?” asked Mizuki as they walked through Pucklechurch toward the town market. Alfric had a long stride, and Mizuki had to move quickly to keep up. Based on how things had gone with Verity, he wasn’t sure he wanted her with him. She seemed to find him a bit too amusing.

“Fairly little,” nodded Alfric. “What did you mean about big-city energy?”

“Oh,” replied Mizuki. “I didn’t mean to offend, it’s just that there are some stereotypes of the cities. People bustling to and fro, always in a rush, always working on step twenty-six of their ninety-step plan, things like that. I might not find it so funny if you didn’t seem completely oblivious to it.”

“Sorry,” said Alfric. “I don’t mean to be brusque.”

“I figure if we’re in this together, maybe I can help you,” said Mizuki. “I’m a local, I know the people and I know what kind of approaches work. You come on really strong. With Verity, we probably could have spent a half hour or so just chatting, getting to know her, talking about what her life is like, how long she’d been at the Fig and Gristle, things like that, and then gotten around to the adventuring thing.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Alfric. “But she’s from Dondrian too.”

“Yeah?” asked Mizuki. “I didn’t know that. She’s gone local in a hurry.”

“Do you know anything about this girl we’re hoping to see? Isra?” asked Alfric. It was possible he shouldn’t have said anything about Verity’s past. He wasn’t supposed to know.

“Nothing,” said Mizuki. “The name’s not familiar, aside from last night. Like, really not familiar. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone with that name. Foreign, maybe?”

“I don’t know,” said Alfric. They approached the market, where stalls had opened up, displaying all kinds of wares. Pucklechurch wasn’t large enough to have a daily market, which made it especially important that they find Isra today. Otherwise, they’d be reduced to waiting three days until the next market, or spending time trying to find someone who knew her well enough to know where she lived. Alfric wasn’t sure whether he would do that or try to track down one of the alternates. “She’s dark-skinned, like me, roughly our age, second elevation, and she should have some furs or meat with her, unless she’s already dropped them off.”

“Oooh, honey,” said Mizuki, splitting off almost immediately. She picked up a jar of warm golden honey and held it up to the light.

“Come find me if you see her,” said Alfric, still looking around. He moved away from Mizuki, who was apparently trying to pick out which of the containers of honey she wanted to buy, and went over to one of the other stalls, a cart displaying cuts of meat. The base of it was apparently lined with chilling elements, as it was quite cool. “Excuse me, do you know a girl named Isra?” he asked the elderly woman. “I’m told that she brings in meat to sell sometimes.”

“She does,” said the woman with a nod. She was looking Alfric over, seeming to be in no rush. “We’ve got flanks of venison, fresh today.”

“I apologize, but I’m not really here to buy,” said Alfric. “Do you know if Isra has been through here yet today? She usually comes with furs and meats.”

“And what’s this about?” asked the woman, staring Alfric down. “Is she in trouble?”

“We actually will take two venison loins,” said Mizuki as she came up behind Alfric. She was slipping a jar of honey into the large bag that she apparently carried with her everywhere. “I’m thinking a glaze of honey, butter, peppercorns, and juniper berries.”

“My, that sounds wonderful,” replied the shopkeeper, perking up. She smiled. “You’ll have to have me over sometime, Mizuki, you always make your meals sound so good.”

“I’d love to!” said Mizuki, who really seemed to mean it. “If you bring the meat, I’ll make the meal. I’m already near the end of the pork I got from you. It’s been wonderful fried up and dipped in a dark, salty sauce that I make for it. I fed Alfric some this morning. Did you know that in Dondrian they don’t eat breakfast?”

“He’s from Dondrian?” asked the woman, looking him over again. “What are you doing in Pucklechurch of all places?” she asked. “And if you’re with Mizuki, then I just know Isra is in trouble.” But she said it with a little laugh and a smile.

“I’m looking to put together a party to go into the dungeon,” he said.

“Oh, how lovely,” said the shopkeeper. She turned to Mizuki. “Did you want those venison loins now?”