Chapter 102
It wasn’t a fancy alehouse, but it was what they had available. The rain outside was starting to really come down hard, and nobody wanted to be out in the spring squall. It would be over shortly, most likely, so it was easier to just wait it out in a cozy and dry place before heading back to Merriweather.
Edmund was pretty sure they’d be going back to Merriweather now. They were one of three adventuring parties in the alehouse—a huge number for this little village they were passing through—but the second group was listening raptly to the third. That third group had a lot to say that had Edmund’s attention… not to mention the others in his group.
“And it turns out she was right!” the big man was saying, slamming his fist into his palm. “We had him looked over by a priest later on, and sure enough he’d been using some kind of charm on all of us! Can’t even trust our own memories now. I don’t know how that little lady did it, but she caught him in the act, and knocked him out cold for it!”
It hadn’t been all that long since Edmund had left the dungeon and its village, but it sounded like a lot had changed already. People jockeying for the dungeon’s time had been expected… and he’d wanted to avoid it. Hearing about the violence from that sweet girl that had served him drinks was the unexpected part.
“What happened then, Bran?” a voice called out. One of the locals, Edmund was sure. They seemed to know this group, and their earlier tension around the boisterous crew had faded as they realized the four adventurers didn’t plan on starting trouble this time. The supposed fifth member of their party wasn’t present… being the topic of the current story.
“I’m curious to see where this is going,” Miriam murmured. “So far it has been an entertaining story, but hardly the juicy gossip that they promised. I wonder if they paid the fine?”
Bran, the large man with the booming voice, grinned at the question. The party leader beside him just sipped her ale, listening to the whole story unfold with a faint smirk. None of them seemed too distraught over their loss of companion.
“Well I was drunk off my ass at the time,” he admitted. “Kay tried to calm me down, but this barmaid had just downed my friend with a surprise attack! You bet I was about to fight her! Not my best moment… trying to stare down a girl a head shorter. Good thing she wasn’t alone, because right then the door opened, and four more came in! I was thinking… I’m not that drunk, am I?”
This only served to confuse the listeners though, making the cadence of the story stagger. One of the villagers called out, “Four more adventurers? Who were they?” A natural question… if four walked in and were famous, even a drunken Bran would stop and question his sanity. Edmund had a sneaking suspicion of who it was, though.
Bran slammed his empty tankard down. “They were adventurers all right! Four more of that barmaid, all dressed up for hitting the dungeon! While she’d been dealing with my drunken ass, four more of her had been looting the dungeon! Turns out that other girl in the corner wasn’t her sister… the whole damn place is full of copies! The same girl, over and over, doing half the jobs all by herself!”
Rather than oohs and ahs, the room fell into muttering confusion, while Bran stood there proudly as if he’d just reached the resolution of the story… despite leaving so much dangling. Most of the crowd was just looking at one another, and the woman beside Bran—Kay, the party leader—rolled her eyes and stood up.
“The whole village has a lot of girls that look exactly the same,” she explained. “We thought there were twins in the village, but it turns out that there are… a lot. At least seven. They’re the ones in charge of the dungeon.”
Some of the villagers laughed at the absurdity, but Kay glanced toward Edmund. Belatedly, Edmund realized he hadn’t bothered to try to look surprised. His acting skills weren’t great anyway, but he could have at least tried for it. His only solace was that Miriam hadn’t tried either, and Tal, their new Scout, had laughed at the statement. Vincent didn’t appear to be listening.
“Didn’t you say they were a redheaded girl?” called out one of the villagers. “My boy should head that way, if they’ve got spares!” Laughter broke out again.
Bran scowled, clapping his hands together loudly. “Hey! We’re serious! We managed to get the fine cut down because one of them took pity on us being saddled with that slimy mentalist, but when we hauled him into Merriweather they confirmed it, remember? Not sure why they were there, but they’re watching over the only new dungeon we know about.”
“Like… guarding it? Some kind of dungeon monster keeping people out?” another voice asked.
Kay shook her head and answered, “Not sure. They didn’t seem very hostile, Bran just got a little too rough. They were right to kick us out, and we’re keeping an eye on him now.” She nudged the big man, who was scowling about his story falling flat. Nobody believed him enough at first, and explaining the situation had taken the impact out of the story.
“Looks like we should head to Merriweather, see if the girls need our help,” Edmund grunted.
“Girls?” Tal asked, pulling his attention away from the large man attempting to get the locals to believe his story. Miriam glared, and the youth blushed. “I meant, what girls are you talking about? The ones in the story?”
He was a good kid… and not really a kid. Several years older than Ellen, he’d made it to Level 17 and had needed a solid party. Edmund would have preferred a cute girl, but even he wasn’t so set upon that as to ignore the best-qualified applicant they’d had in months.
“The story is true,” Vincent said without looking up. “And it sounds as if they’ve made themselves public. No one here believes the story… but eventually others will, and even more will come to the dungeon.”
“We need to get you up to Tier 3 anyway, Tal,” Edmund said as he leaned back, arms tucked behind his head. “I’m sure Ellen can pull some strings to get us an early spot in the dungeon delve. We go way back, after all.”
“Half a year,” Vincent corrected.
Edmund shrugged back at him. “Hey, Ellen was just getting started back then! That’s way back for her! She was what… Level 6? Barely functional really.”
“I’ll miss feeling special because we knew the secret,” Miriam sighed. “But I guess it’s for the best. If they’re public about it they can’t claim to be hiding something. People are more likely to think it’s just strange instead of sinister.”
“So they’re siblings?” Tal asked, way behind on the conversation. He had a helpless, wide-eyed look about him, unable to follow everything they were saying. “And low Level ones?”
Edmund sighed. Maybe the kid wasn’t as sharp as he first seemed. “No, weren’t you listening? They’re the same girl. Literal copies… except they all took different classes. Last we knew they were up to Level 12 in some of them, but they really handle more than their level suggests. I’d probably put the toughest Ellen about even with you despite the difference in Level.”
The young man frowned, but he was smart enough to not argue with his boss, at least. “So what if some stronger adventurers try to just take over the dungeon? Shouldn’t they have some stronger guards?”
“The short answer is that the Crown won’t let them,” Miriam reassured him. “Exactly why they couldn’t get away with that is a more complicated answer, but you’ll just have to trust us on this one. Thallis doesn’t want the dungeon under the control of someone they can’t trust, and Ellen is loyal to Thallis, as far as anyone knows. Unless she does something wrong or tries to cheat on the taxes, they’ll let her continue running it.”
Tal rubbed the back of his neck, then nodded slightly. Bran was starting to get loud again in the background, making the alehouse a little louder than anyone in the group would like. Even Tal, the youngest in the group, was looking stifled.
“Cheer up,” Edmund offered. “We aren’t far from Merriweather, and from there it’s a short trip. We’ll dash out as soon as the storm passes and get you on your way to the dungeons. Maybe Hunter Ellen will take a shine to another scout.”
The newest member smiled weakly. “Yeah… sure.”
“ACHOO!”
Cobbler glanced over as Ellen sniffled, tugging out a cloth to wipe her nose.
“Sorry,” Ellen apologized. “No idea where that came from, it just snuck up on me. Something must have tickled my nose.”
Her other self just shrugged and leaned back in the seat, wincing as the wagon went over a bump. Cobbler sighed, “Wish we could have found a faster caravan… but I guess we’ve just gotten used to everything moving so quickly. Too bad we can’t apply our teamwork to travel.”
“We could,” Ellen argued. “Have at least three of us, at least two of the Darkvision Circlets Smith was working on, and a cart. The only problem is we’d also need a way to change the animals out, but for us we could rotate steering easily and travel full time.”
Cobbler nodded. Her common ancestor Ellen was only three generations back, which sounded like a lot… until the comparison was made to the Adventuring Party or the espionage pair. Cobbler’s drift was mostly into being more peaceful and domestic.
“I kind of like the slow pace, though,” Ellen continued. “Just the two of us, bonding like sisters should. All the worries of the town are behind us, and we don’t need to think about them because there’s nothing we can do about them. The merchants and guards are leaving us alone, too.”
The observation made Cobbler smile sadly. “Speak for yourself, you get to go out and hunt and help with that. I haven’t done anything the last couple days.” She laid her head back and sighed, staring at the rolling grey clouds. Ellen didn’t have the heart to tell her that the clouds would likely break soon and they’d be huddling under their cloaks.
Ellen laughed instead of ruining her other self’s day. “Don’t say that! We’re on a pretty long trip… I’m sure someone’s shoes will need some work before we get home.”
The laughter faded, and Cobbler’s mood turned even more dismal. She frowned and just kept staring upward.
“I still have no idea what we’re going to say to them,” Cobbler finally said in a quiet voice. “Do you think he’ll yell? Or panic? Will we even get to explain anything?”
The questions forced a sigh out of Ellen. She shook her head, “I don’t know. We aren’t even the ones best for handling this, either. Maybe if Stage had appeared before we went on this trip we could have convinced her and Whisper to go… but they’re probably not as Ellen as the rest of us, I think.”
Cobbler scrunched her nose up in worry. “Yeah… I’m not sure what to think about the ones further out from us. Doesn’t make our job any easier though. We have a few weeks to plan, but it’s still going to be the hardest thing we’ll ever do. I hope mom can forgive us.”
“That’ll be fine,” Ellen assured. “And look at it this way… the other Ellens will owe us for this. There’s no way whatever they’re handling back at Onroc can ever be as tough as this, right?”
Cobbler just huffed. “Oh, for sure.”