I Hate Dungeon School

There was part of me that didn't even want to bother with changing into something nicer. Still, another, louder part had all those noble etiquette lessons drilled into it, so I found my fancier clothes that I kept hidden away for special occasions. I was mostly planning to wear it to graduation, but the number of occasions I considered special enough was growing. It was also my date outfit.

Note to self: get a better date outfit. Something sexier? Would Eira like sexier? I hope she would.

No time for that kind of thinking, I thought as I shook my head clear. I was dressed and presentable for meeting the City Lord, an event I was less than thrilled about.

The letter I had received just told me to come immediately. It had official seals on it and everything, so it wasn't something I could ignore. As a student of Dungeon School, I was technically a citizen of the City State of Revenstahd, which meant, again, only technically, the City Lord was my Sovereign.

Which caused me to realize another major problem. I had no idea what the city lord's name was. They even signed the letter 'The City Lord.' What was I supposed to do with that?

And why was I getting called in here? I had nothing to do with the politics of the city after that whole mess with the duel against Cavendish of the Obsidian Gauntlet. I had so many things to do today, and not nearly enough time to do all of them.

I sighed and clutched my beautiful blue cloak closer against me as I was buffeted by a frigid wind as I approached the gates of the City Hall. On each side of the gate as a pair of guards, in simple armor visible through simple yet thick cloaks of their own. Under their wide brimmed helms, they wore fur caps that covered their ears. It was good to see that the common soldiery of the city wasn't left to freeze.

In my experience as a noblewoman who had to navigate that world more than I would have liked, far too many nobles, especially those that ruled the Independent Cities, didn't give half a damn about the soldiers. Caring for the common fighting men was beneath them. Even so much as acknowledging them as people was too bothersome. Such attitudes were even worse amongst the nobles of the five nations of the Mortal Kingdoms.

I showed the two guards the letter, who then used a small communication crystal at their guard station to verify it. After a few cold moments, they finally let me in. An attendant, a bastetian gentleman, in simple formal attire, greeted me.

"Good morning, Ms. Alta Alba Marchesi. I am Mewraz, and I am here to escort you to visit the City Lord." He bowed deeply, his hand upon his chest. I hadn't been greeted in such a way in a long time.

I returned his bow with a curtsy, mentally giggling at how long it had been and how silly it made me feel doing so again after what felt like forever.

We both rose, and he turned to lead me inside. I hadn't met very many bastetians, and once they would have mystified me, but they were a common sight in Revenstahd. They looked a lot like tall humanoid cats. Mewraz had a sleek black coat and stood a full head or two taller than me.

Normally, I would've been intimidated but everything about his countenance was non threatening. Which could be a ploy for all I knew. Or that was the paranoia talking.

He led me into the building, a maid taking my coat. I realized I recognized the maid. It was Lily from the café. She caught my eye, and we shared a moment of shared recognition, and I could see her expression start to slip into panic. I sneakily held my finger in front of my mouth, and gave her a wink and smile.

Life outside the Atelier du Maiden was no one's business, and as far as I was concerned, that was a sacred rule. She'd hear nothing about it from me, and she wouldn't tell anyone either.

Her smile showed her understanding and gratitude. She gave me a perfect curtsy, which I returned with a bow of the head. There was an entire hierarchy to bows and nods and such. It was all coming back to me, thankfully in a low-stakes setting. At least I greatly hoped it would be low stakes.

I followed Mewraz through the hallways of the City Hall, and I was astounded by how lacking in ostentation it was. There was a bare minimum of ornamentation, no statues or paintings. Any furniture was utilitarian yet extremely well made. It felt more like an administrative building. Most administration buildings I had been in had been fancier.

I realized then that I didn't know all that much about the City Lord. I had just assumed he was like all other nobles. The back room dealings that seemed to go on around my duel had convinced me of that, but I had no idea what other factors had led to all of that.

Many guilds and organizations had gotten tied into all of that, and the City Lord was just another part of that.

My train of thought was stopped as we stopped at a large door at the end of a hallway. I had expected to be led upstairs, but this room was on the bottom floor. The bastetian butler knocked on the door, which made an incredibly dense sound. That was a door for defensibility. It made me wonder how many other features here were for defensive purposes. Was Revenstahd expecting something, or was the City Lord also paranoid like myself and so many others of noble birth?

The history of the Mortal Kingdoms, that tenuous alliance of five kingdoms and dozens of city-states, was one of conflict. Wars over land, resources, dungeon ownership, and a myriad other petty reasons colored its long history. It had only been within the last several decades that something resembling peace had properly settled over the lands, and it was the gods-above-and-below's best guess how settled that peace really was.

The door opened, revealing a massive office with a large round council table in the center. At the far end was the City Lord at his desk, working away on papers with his head down. Off to one side he had a set of scales, an array of weights and measures, and a pile of various coins and gems.

Mewraz bowed to me again and closed the door without any form of announcement. The room was quiet, with nothing but the sound of a pen scratching away.

I stood there in that heavy silence for a few moments.

"Please approach Ms. Marchesi, if you don't mind. I apologize for my lack of decorum, but I simply have too much work to finish today to stop for long." His voice was softer than I would have expected, but it carried with confidence and authority all the same.

I did as he bade, until I stood before his desk.

"You may sit. This isn't a formal visit. I sent the summons as I know you adventurer types tend to interpret invitations as a suggestion if I don't make it look serious."

I sat in the chair he offered, and I shifted a bit, trying to find a comfortable position, a task that proved fruitless. My poor tailbone was not happy about this.

It was then that I got a good look at the City Lord. I thought he was a shortish human, but after looking at his bone structure and build up closer, I realized he was perhaps the largest dwarf I had ever seen. An ancient too. Parts of skin had begun to turn stone like, a trait only seen in the most elder of dwarves, but he still seemed more than capable. He was muscluar, that was evident by how his clothes hugged his form.

I wouldn't want to fight him, that was for sure.

"Can I ask why I'm here, Lord..." I paused fishing for a memory of his name. I must have heard it somewhere.

"You can just call me Lord. And save any thoughts of supposed pretention on my part. It just happens that my surname is Lord. Lord Lord sounds ridiculous." He grunted with a trace of amusement in his voice.

"Certainly, Lord. Can I ask why I have been summoned here? I am quite busy, I'm afraid to say." I was pulling out all my abandoned etiquette lessons from the recesses of my mind. It almost felt automatic, but the part of my brain that loved being away from all that mess was throwing a tantrum.

"Straight to the point. I like that. Simply put, the ears I have around the city have informed me that despite you being an exiled scion of the Marchesi family, you have been invited to the wedding of Cassandra Marchesi and Torvaldus Togalli. Given the political climate in Burgotova, I find this hard to believe. However, my eyes have confirmed its truth. Do you have anything to say regarding this?" He set his pen down and looked me straight in the eyes. His gaze was piercing, like a pickaxe against ore.

"I'll be honest with you, Lord. I have no idea why I have been invited." I said, holding his gaze. He stared a moment longer.

"Very well. I shall choose to believe you. You, of course, aren't going, yes?" He leaned back in his seat, crossing his hands in front of his wide chest.

"How did-" I was taken off guard by that. How did he know?

"My eyes and ears see and hear everywhere in this city, Ms. Marchesi. I haven't ruled this city since its inception on my good looks alone." He smirked at me.

"Then why am I here, sir? I'd appreciate some honesty from you, too." I narrowed my eyes at him. I didn't appreciate being played.

He snorted. "Very well. I suppose I can do that. I made a ridiculous amount of money off your fight. And gave me the leverage to make some changes within the Mortal Kingdoms. I have a particular hatred of the Obsidian Gauntlet that I couldn't do anything about politically till you kicked the ever-loving tar out of that fool Cavendish. Drink?"

He took a pair of glasses and a bottle of amber liquid out of his desk. It had dwarven text on it I couldn't quite make out, but it was old. Very old. The smell as he opened it was heavy.

"Yes, please!" I said perhaps overly eagerly.

"Good girl! I like an elf who knows a good amberspirit!" He poured the glasses for us and handed me one. I sipped it gently, and was delighted by the burn on my tongue. "And she handles it properly too! I almost like you!"

"Almost?" I asked, before taking another sip.

"The Marchesi and Togalli alliance is going to stir up some trouble. This rebellion makes no sense from its inception to the reaction, or lack thereof, from the Burgotovan royalty. Which makes me nervous. I don't want whatever conflict occurs to spill over into Revenstahd territory. Chaos is bad for business. Unless you're a mercenary or a knight."

Suddenly finally clicked in my head.

"Is that why the Obsidian Gauntlet was here? They were passing through to Burgotova?" I gasped.

He pointed a finger at me.

"Exactly! They and several other orders have been filtering through the Kingdoms for whatever is going on there. It doesn't make any sense. Is there going to be a civil war, or isn't there? If yes, when and what are the players? If not, why not? There are too many unknowns, and I just can't get any information at all, and it's driving me mad!" He set his glass down with a resounding thud that echoed in the empty room.

"And this leads to me how?" I pressed. I appreciated his frustrations, but my primary concern was about myself.

"It's simple. I needed to know if you really were as exiled as you said you were. I've been keeping tabs on you and Mariana Togalli. Two exiled members of possibly rebellious noble houses in Revenstahd. As far as I knew, you two were conspiring with various parties to drum up support for this rebellion. I had to know." He lifted his glass back up and downed the entire drink in a single swig.

"And what is your assessment, Lord?" I asked, sipping my drink further. It was so good. It was taking a lot of willpower not to chug the tasty thing, but I wanted to keep my head clear as long as possible.

He smiled, an expression lacking anything resembling mirth. It was a calculating smile. "You? I believe you are truly in exile. I can't give you my exact reasons, but I really do believe you."

"And Togalli?" I pressed.

"That's my business. Now let's set aside all this small talk and get to the meat of the matter." He poured himself another glass of amberspirit, and sat back in his sit and swirled it in silence for a few moments.

"You're going to do me a favor. And in exchange, I will owe you a favor." He held up a hand before I responded. "I want to make it very clear that this isn't a request. You will help me, or I will make your life difficult. I am not a cruel man, but I do what is necessary for my city. I'd apologize, but I'm not sorry in the least."

I didn't care for this in the slightest, but I knew when I was backed into a corner. He had power over me, and I had nowhere to go but Revenstahd. Might as well play along, I suppose.

"Very well. What do you need from me? Nothing too untoward, I hope." I leaned forward.

"Oh, of course not. Just a little light espionage." He smirked at me before drinking the amberspirit. "Nothing a resourceful lass like you couldn't handle."

I couldn't hold back my sigh. This trip was getting worse and worse.