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The Human From a Dungeon 86
🕑 Added 2025-01-13 13:35:17 +0000 UTCChapter 86
Yilda Alta
Adventurer Level: Retired
Orc - Kirkenian
I finished sweeping and gave the pile of dust an angry glare. I had faced down seemingly endless hordes of zombies and entire colonies of massive bugs, but the most pervasive enemy I'd ever encountered was this damned dust. Every day I swept, and every day I ended up with a new pile to toss out. Where the hells does it all come from?
My gaze slowly shifted to Dima and Nucho, who had just come inside from playing in the yard. The puppers instinctively froze, as if they were suddenly aware of their dirty paws. I shook my head with a sigh and scooped up the dust.
"If I get a mat, would you two wipe your feet?" I asked, somewhat annoyed.
The puppers looked at each other in confusion. I chuckled at their expression and forgave their transgression as I walked past them and tossed the dust out the door. More would somehow make it into the house, but that's a problem for another time. Tomorrow, specifically.
Dima and Nucho trailed behind me as I put away the scoop and broom, tidied up the kitchen a little bit, and then prepared their food dishes. They did their little dance and whine as I carried the bowls to their spots, then ravenously attacked their meals. I shook my head at their behavior.
"You act like I haven't fed you all day," I laughed.
As the puppers ate, I took a seat in my armchair and grabbed my knitting needles. I regarded my progress thus far with a frown, though. One would think that given my former experience with pointy objects, knitting would come naturally. It doesn't. I sighed and looked up at the painting of my husband and I on our wedding day.
His childish grin stared down at me from our mantle. Mirkus had almost always worn that exact expression around me. The only time I'd seen it change was to determination during a particularly tough battle, and to wonder when he first held our little boys. He'd always said that marrying me was the happiest day of his life, which was particularly rude when he did so in front of the children, and his expression in the portrait definitely backed his claim.
My expression in the portrait was one of bemusement. I had a tough time smiling properly back then. The emotional scars from my upbringing were still fresh and threatening to reopen at any moment. Going from a starving orphan mugging people in the streets to becoming an adventurer and marrying into the famed Alta clan had seemed like a dream. Still does, sometimes...
My eyes fell to the display sitting just below the portrait. Despite my inability to properly express it, my wedding and the days that followed had been the best of my life. The wand and dagger, resting peacefully in their display, were a stark reminder of the worst days of my life.
Mirkus had taken the boys on an adventure. Yulk was barely old enough to speak and Nash couldn't even hold a sword, but I knew my husband well enough to know that they wouldn't be in any danger. I would've, should've, gone with them but someone needed to tend to the house. We didn't know many people in the village at the time, so I didn't trust any of them enough to ask them to house-sit for us.
My boys gathered herbs and hunted birds for a few days, then decided to take rest in Kirkena. They took a meal in a nearby tavern and rented a room at the inn. My husband, the love of my life, died in that room next to his children.
The investigator told me, for a few silver, that someone had slipped heart-bane into his beer at the tavern. It took a while to take effect, but once it's ingested nothing can be done. The only solace we got out of the situation is that his death had been painless, which was definitely an unexpected boon. We'd always joked that his death would be painful, whether it was from old age or falling in battle.
We buried my husband, and I had my boys stay with their aunt in Migrath to both distract them from their grief and keep them from what I was about to do. Then, I returned home, grabbed my knife and wand, and traveled back to Kirkena. Ulurmak was smart enough to know that I was coming, and told the guards to keep me out of the city. They didn't expect me to hitch a ride under a cart, though.
My first stop was the tavern. When I entered, several of the patrons recognized me and left with their pals. The rest fled once I grabbed the barkeep. He cried and begged for me to spare him, trying to use his family as a shield for his crime.
"And what of mine?" I had demanded.
The barkeep had no answer to that, but had answers to the other questions I had. He informed me that he had been paid well to poison my husband and children, but couldn't bring himself to kill kids. The latter comment was meant to make me see him in a better light, but the law of our clan had been made clear to me by Mirkus' mother. Blood for blood, always.
I dragged the barkeep out into the street and slit his throat and belly, then set fire to the tavern. I stood over the dying gnome, preventing anyone from helping him until his final breath gargled its way out of his lungs. The guards tried to detain me, but thankfully for them their seniors intervened. Once the situation with the guards was settled, I was on to my next target.
Tibon Falun. A disgraced dwarven noble who had fled Calkuti and taken residence in Kirkena. To this day, I don't know what my husband did to offend the bastard.
I found him in the process of fleeing the city, and tracked his cart until we were well within the wastes. While they rested for the night, I cast a certain type of paralysis spell on him and dragged him off, leaving a sack of coin for the driver's trouble. Once we were out of earshot of the resting driver, I began.
I stripped him down and started cutting bits off of him, casting minor heal to keep him alive as I worked my way inward. The spell allowed him to feel the blade and its work upon him, but kept him from moving or speaking. He was little more than a freshly castrated torso when the paralysis finally wore off and he began to scream and thrash. I carved a gash in his chest and walked far enough away that I could watch the monsters have him.
I sighed at the memory of the kill. If I hadn't already retired as an adventurer, Ulurmak probably would have stripped me of my license. But because I'd retired and was well within my rights as an Alta, he could do nothing to punish me. So, I retrieved my children and came back to Nuleva.
"They should be back any day now," I reminded myself, then sighed again. "I need to get some groceries."
I tossed my knitting kit into its pile and rose from my chair with a small groan. Years of conflict followed by comfort takes its toll. The puppers, now full from their meal, lazily watched me as I grabbed my cloak, coins, and basket.
As I stepped out of the house a cool breeze found its way into my cloak. A stark reminder that the summer is passing. I drew up my cloak and made my way into the settlement's center.
Several stores and stalls had sprung up over the years. Nuleva was well on its way to becoming a proper village, if it hadn't already. Most of the stalls were selling trinkets from or for the dungeon, and most of the stores were selling weapons and armor. I passed several of these until I found the one I wanted, Lon's Grocery.
Lon had begun selling food-stuffs shortly after Mirkus and I moved to Nuleva. His stall had quickly become a store because his prices were reasonable and his goods were decent. Everyone knows that if you want meat or vegetables that aren't dried, Lon's is where you shop.
"Yilda! Long time no see," Lon's elven smile glimmered in the lamp-light. "Where's Nima?"
Nima had been doing my shopping and around-the-settlement tasks since the boys left. She was trying to be subtle about it, but the reason why was pretty obvious. Nash is going to be level ten soon, and one should always suck up to the mother-in-law. Might as well start early.
"She's finally started to openly worry about the boys," I returned his smile. "Since I'm perfectly capable of getting my own groceries, I've tasked her with preparing a celebration for their return. Should be any day now."
"That's good to hear, and it's so good to see you out of the house. So, what can I do for you?"
My new son's eating habits had inspired some creativity with my cooking. I explained some of the dishes I had concocted, as well as the ideas I had for future ones. Lon nodded along eagerly, even taking notes. When I had first purchased bulives and combumber from him for Nick, he had been extremely skeptical about my plans for them. Now that he's tried the recipe himself, though, it seems that he can't get enough.
"Starchy tubers, eh?" he asked. "You know, I've been trying a bunch of things with meat lately, but a week long stew with starchy tubers never even occurred to me. Gods that's genius, leave it to the Legendary Chef of Graluka to think of something like that!"
"Oh, hush," I jokingly scolded him. "You're the one who told me about boiling them in the first place."
"Yeah, for mashin'," he laughed. "Can't wait to try this, though. I'm guessing you're going to want a fatty cut?"
"About eighty-twenty if you've got it."
Lon nodded and began wrapping up my order. My mouth watered a little as the parcels were placed in my basket. The boys are going to love this.
"Let's see... Twenty for the meat, five, two, and seven for the veg... Thirty four copper," the elf smiled.
I pulled out my coin pouch and counted out the copper for him. It left me with only four copper coins, and Lon's eyebrow raised as he noticed. He rubbed the back of his neck, and then grabbed a few of the coppers I'd placed on the counter and tried to give them back.
"Oh, sweetie, don't worry about it," I laughed and waved him off. "I get paid soon."
"You sure?"
"Yep. My pension is a couple days late, but that's to be expected with all that's going on. Plus, my boys will be back soon and I'm sure they've made a bit of money along the way. I appreciate the thought, but if I find myself in dire straits I'll just open a tab."
"I'll be happy to open a tab for you if you need it, but some of these so called merchants... Well, you know. I'd hate to see you have to open a tab with them."
"Well, you don't have to worry about that. I don't shop with them, so I won't need to open a tab," I grinned. "Probably won't even have to open a tab with you. As I said, my boys will be back soon."
Lon's eyebrows furrowed a bit, as if he wanted to point something out, but then his expression faded into a smile.
"Okay, Yilda. Have a good day, hope the meal turns out great," he said.
"Thanks, you have a good one too."
I thought about what Lon had wanted to say as I began to return home. It was a pretty simple what-if scenario. What if my boys had gotten themselves wrapped up in the war with the Night Kingdom and would be delayed. Or... What if my boys didn't make it back.
The thought didn't sit well with me, and I found myself appreciating that Lon kept his mouth closed about it. My boys are tough, clever, and strong, but not invincible. They can take on most foes, but they're still young and inexperienced. Getting a letter of apology from Ulurmak is well within the realm of possibility.
I shook my head to clear these thoughts as I opened the door to our home. The boys would be fine. They would come home and tell me all about their adventures, carefully leaving out the more dangerous parts. Of course, they'd inevitably include a part that would make me scold them, but that's part of the experience.
My big black pot clanged as I set it on the fire and began to add the ingredients. Back in Graluka, I'd learned that the key to any stew is seasoning and thickness. Without those, you end up with a lightly flavored and chewy beverage, which isn't exactly appetizing.
Once the pot was simmering, I stepped back and admired my handiwork. This time tomorrow, we would have ourselves one hell of a meal, which we could then snack on for the rest of the week. Then, Dima and Nucho began shouting at a knock from the door. Unsure of what to expect, I grabbed my butchering blade, wiped it off, and hid it under my cloak before answering the door. A gnome wearing a messenger's uniform greeted me.
"Mail for you, Miss Alta," the gnome said, reaching into his bag.
"Missus."
"Pardon?"
"My husband may be dead, but I am still his wife," I said, trying to keep the sternness out of my voice. "Where's Kreevar?"
"Oh, uh... He left to join the war effort. Delivering messages for the army. I'd just quit adventuring, and decided to take the open position. I'm, uh... I'm Grehven."
It was pretty obvious why the gnome had decided against continuing his career as an adventurer. He was at least a head shorter than most gnomes, and twice as timid. Of course, my reputation likely precedes me and might be causing a case of nerves, but fighting life or death battles takes a certain amount of courage that's plain to see for those who have the eyes for it.
"Well, good to meet you Grehven. What sort of mail do you have for me today?" I asked.
"A package from the adventurer's guild, a letter from a family member named Yulk, and some advertisements," the gnome said, happy for the change of subject. "With the ads, I can return to sender, if you want."
"No, that's okay. Free kindling," I grinned.
Grehven gave the mail to me, nodded, and made an immediate about-face. Once he had left the yard, I shifted to let the puppers outside, but they were still lounging around. Gods, they're lazy after a meal.
I placed my mail on the table and took a peek at the advertisements. Drawings of various artifacts and weapons stared back at me from the pages. Nothing really caught my eye, so I crumpled them up and added them to the kindling bin as I put away the butchering knife.
Then I opened the package from the adventurer's guild. It contained an expression of thanks for my service, and my pension. Three silver and two hundred copper coins glimmered up at me. I put the silver and a handful of the copper into my coin pouch, and placed the rest in a safe spot for later.
I returned to the table and had a staring contest with the letter from Yulk. Frequently, I tell myself that the boy has the common sense to give me bad news in person. Knowing my child as well as I do, though, I know that's not the case. By his logic, telling me through mail would give me time to grieve before he got home. As if closeness to others isn't part of the grieving process, the little turd.
The letter, which could contain any type of news, seemed to taunt me. With a sigh, I sat down and broke the seal. After another, heavier sigh, I pulled the paper from the envelope. Before I could start reading, though, the puppers began shouting and the front door opened.
"MOM! WE'RE HOME!"
I calmly set the letter down and glanced at the still-cooking stew behind me.
"Shit," I muttered to myself.
Comments
Aerowarrier
Always a day too late on food huh? XD
Ben Bass
TYFTC! That was awesome to see from Momma Alta’s perspective! That was a great way to drop in some background for her and the boys. Now if only the boys had the decency to show up when the food was ready!
Gerami
I appreciate the way you write the "side" characters stories also. Really enjoy having the added world building of knowing what else is goin on outside of just main story
Michael Halpern
"you weren't supposed to get here so soon"
