Monroe

Chapter Eighty-Three. Read a book.

Jakob saw Bob's hesitation and chuckled, "Don't worry, your path is your own, and I doubt you've anything the Guild hasn't seen a thousand times," he said.

"Just tell me what skills you have raised to match your level," Jakob said.

"Well," Bob said cautiously, "Control Air, Fire, Earth and Water are all pretty close to my level, as well as Eldritch Shield."

"A curator, eh?" Jakob said with a grin, "no need to be shy; quite a few people take the curator path."

Bob nodded slowly. It was technically true, for a given value of truth.

"I also have plant growth and size alteration," Bob said.

"Do you have Animancy and Anima Blast yet?" Jakob asked.

"I do, but I just picked them up, so they aren't powerful yet," Bob replied.

Jakob nodded and made a few notes in his ledger.

Bob winced internally. He'd really rather no one knew what skills he had, but he'd been an oddity in Holmstead, and he absolutely did not want to stand out in Harbordeep. The tallest tree being the first to be cut down and all that.

If he could pass himself off as a curator, people would be unlikely to question it.

"I'll talk to the other agents; we can usually find a slot for someone willing to take a support role," Jakob said, "and having a maximum level Eldritch Shield spell ought to earn you a place."

"I can likely have you placed in a group to delve the twenty-sixth level by tomorrow morning," Jakob said, "maybe even sooner, we don't see a lot of people with Abjuration, and while healing is nice, not being hit at all is even better."

"I do appreciate your efforts," Bob began slowly, "however one of the things the curator in Holmstead has me doing is soloing."

Jakob blinked in surprise, and Bob continued, "It isn't very fast, but when I build a Dungeon, I'm going to need to be able to curate it," Bob finished.

"Well," Jakob said, "I do understand that real curators often delve alone, but the twenty-sixth floor is always in demand."

"I can try to slot you in for a single man delve, but it'll likely be several days," Jakob mused thoughtfully, "in the meantime, you might try buying out your groups time, offering to give up your share of the crystals in exchange for the last hour of the scheduled delve being yours alone."

Bob nodded, "I'll certainly try that, but please schedule single man delves for me as well," Bob finished.

The server arrived, and Jakob presented a meal token of his own before ordering a steak, fried potatoes, and string beans.

Bob presented his own token and asked for the same, along with a serving bowl full of diced meat chunks for Monroe.

The server jotted their orders down on a slate and then pressed the tokens into a slot fitted for them. The slate glowed a muted orange, and he handed the tokens back to them and headed towards the bar and presumably the kitchen beyond.

"So," Bob said as the server left, "given the way people who are tier five are treated in the guild, and presumably outside of it, why haven't you pushed to tier six?"

"Wife and I can't agree on a path of apotheosis," Jakob grumbled although he smiled, "we've two boys, fully grown and out of the house, so I say what does it matter if choose different apotheosis paths?"

"But no," he went on, "even though she said she doesn't want any more children, she keeps waffling about taking different paths because then we wouldn't have the option if she changed her mind later."

Bob considered that for a moment.

'Yes,' Trebor said quietly, 'the vast majority of species are genetically incompatible, an exception being made for paragons.'

"How long have you been at the level cap?" Bob asked curiously.

"Six years," Jakob huffed, "three years for the wife, and I keep telling her that we need to make a choice..."

"What about you?" Jakob asked, "Any young lady waiting back home for you?"

"No," Bob said as nicely as he could.

His lack of interest in the fairer sex had been one of the many causes of social ostracization in his youth. With his mother as an example, he'd never been able to develop a romantic interest in women.

"Well," Jakob said sympathetically, "maybe you'll find someone here in Harbordeep."

"Do you know what the twenty-sixth floor of the Dungeon is like?" Bob asked, desperate to change the subject.

Bob was well aware that in any conversation relating to romantic relationships, his disdain eventually shone through.

"Fire-bears," Jakob said, "or so I've heard, I haven't purchased the book yet, as the wife would take that as a sign that I'm pushing her."

"The book?" Bob asked.

"Three books," Jakob said, "one detailing the Dungeon from floors one through twenty-five, a second detailing the floors from twenty-six to fifty, and a third detailing the floors beyond fifty."

Bob smiled.

"That sounds brilliant; where can I buy a copy?" Bob asked eagerly.

"Kathaleen's Books," Jakob replied leaning back from the table as the server returned with two plates for the humans and a serving bowl piled high with steaming chunks of fish for Monroe.

As the dishes were deposited and the server hurried off, Monroe's tail twitched as the intoxicating scent of delicious raw fish wafted through into his sensitive nose.

Standing up, Monroe extended his front legs and enjoyed a long, leisurely stretch before addressing his meal.

He took a cautious bite, chewed daintily, and seemed to consider the heaping bowl for a moment, before attacking his meal with enthusiasm.

Bob was cutting up his steak.

He knew perfectly well that Monroe loved fish. He'd been as good a servant to his kitty as he was able, but he still made the occasional mistake, and when he did, he would provide an offer of apology tuna to Monroe.

Given the way Monroe tore apart that canned tuna, he wasn't surprised to see him ripping through fresh fish.

"Kathaleen's is in the outer city, just head back down the boulevard, and take the second right after you come through the wall," Jakob said as he finished cutting up his steak, "it's about halfway to the water, seven or eight blocks I think, but you can't miss it, it has a mural, stacks, and stacks of books."

Bob nodded and set to his meal with a will. It had been a few hours since breakfast.

"Is there anything I should know before I start wandering around the city?" Bob asked.

The fried potatoes were waffle fries, more or less. They were drizzled with vinegar and salt, served piping hot.

The string beans were more akin to peas and tasted slightly sweet. The two flavors contrasted each other quite nicely, Bob thought as he took a few more bites of his meal.

Jakob shrugged and replied, "Keep your head down and stay out of the way," he grimaced and went on, "it'll take you a bit of time to learn to distinguish the toffs on sight, so for now, just assume everyone is better than you and act accordingly," he finished with a touch of anger in his voice.

Bob nodded. He was already planning on doing that.

"Still," Jakob said, "there are fewer of them in the outer city, and that's likely where you'll find any shops you need."

Bob nodded, and both he and Jakob focused on their meals, Monroe having finished his feast much more quickly than his servants.

Once his meal was finished, Bob stood up and stretched before hefting Monroe and sliding him onto the Makres.

"I'll check in with you this evening?" Bob asked.

"I'll be at my desk until six," Jakob confirmed, "and then I'll be back in at six am."

"Until then," Bob said and headed out of the servant's tavern.

The streets of Harbordeep beckoned him.

~ ~ ~ ~

Bob paused in the foyer. He'd forgotten to ask Jakob about using magic in Harbordeep. It hadn't seemed to matter in Holmstead.

He changed his course and walked over to Zoey.

"Zoey, I forgot to ask Jakob just now, but before I go out into the city, are the restrictions on magic?" Bob asked.

"No destruction of property, no noise above conversation levels, no illumination beyond natural sunlight during the day and natural moonlight at night, and entering and exiting the city must be done through the gates," she rattled off.

"Thanks," Bob said with a smile and tilted a shoulder down to allow her easy access to Monroe for a few cheek scratches.

"You're welcome," Zoey said as she gave Monroe a double cheek rub.

Bob headed out of the doors and into the street.

It was early afternoon, and the city was drawing into shadows as the cliff above it blocked the sun, chilling the air as the warming light fled.

People moved steadily along the boulevard, and Bob joined the edge of the stream of people moving towards the outer city.

Keeping his head down, he tried to maintain his situational awareness.

Bob wasn't a fan of crowds, and crowds scattered with people who would beat him senseless if he offended them in some unknowable manner was far too reminiscent of his childhood.

It took him twenty minutes to navigate the crowds, but he soon found himself in front of Kathaleen's Books.

As promised, the ground floor displayed a mural depicting stacks of tomes, loose paper, and quills. Bob wasted no time stepping inside the shop, as the wind off the bay rushed up the street, carrying with it the chill of the winter sea.

The shop itself was comfortably warm and well lit by shaded orbs of sunlight interspersed at regular intervals between the stacks.

And stacks there were.

Bob smiled slowly as he took in the sight. Bookcases interspersed with oversized and overstuffed armchairs lined the walls, while small booths stretched down the middle.

Half a dozen people could be seen, seated at a chair or in a booth, all reading, most with a cup next to them and plate as well, often supporting a half-eaten pastry.

"Welcome to Kathaleen's," a voice from beside him said quietly, "it's always nice to see another reader enter our humble shop."

Bob looked to his left to discover a tall young man, broad of shoulder, and judging by his forearms, displayed as they were by rolled-up sleeves, strong.

"I'm Bryant," the young man said in his hushed tone, "would you care for a cup of tea?"

Bob nodded and followed Bryant around the booths to discover a bar of sorts. If a bar appeared to serve only tea, rather than stools, it was lined with comfortable looking armchairs, although with fewer wings, likely to allow for easier conversation, although the few men and women who occupied them appeared to be quite engrossed in their books.

Bryant gestured to a chair, and Bob sat down.

The chairs did not disappoint, and their promises of comfort were well met.

Bryant ducked between chairs and reappeared behind the counter.

"So," Bryant began as he lifted a teacup from one of the hooks over the bar, "as I said, welcome to Kathaleen's," he shook some ground tea leaves into a mesh bowl that fit over the lip of the teacup perfectly.

Bryant produced a steaming kettle of water from underneath the bar and slowly poured the water over the tea leaves.

"The prices for any book you find are clearly listed on the spine," Bryant said absently as he concentrated on pouring the tea, "although, for the avid reader, you may pay a fee of five mana crystals and enjoy free access to any book here for the duration of a day."

Bryant lifted the kettle away and secreted it back under the counter.

"Given the hour," Bryant said with a smile as he turned his attention more fully to Bob, "I'd not recommend that choice as we'll be closing the doors in a few hours, and I doubt you'd get your delve's worth in that time."

Bob nodded agreeably as he accepted the cup of tea that Bryant had handed him.

"I'll definitely be spending a few days in here," Bob said quietly, "although you're quite right that today isn't to be that day."

Bob sniffed the tea. It smelled slightly acrid, with a hint of citrus.

Taking a tentative sip, Bob nodded thoughtfully. It wasn't coffee, but it had the same bitterness, with a sharp tang at the end that reminded him not quite entirely unlike the taste of lime.

"What I have come for today is the book that describes the various Dungeon floors here in Harbordeep," Bob said.

"Ah," Bryant smiled, "you'd be looking for Dhoakes Definitive Dungeon Delving Directional."

"Fan of alliteration is Dhoakes?" Bob asked.

"Our curator is a man of many talents," Bryant said diplomatically, "however creative naming appears to be something he doesn't have the time for."

"Which volume would you like?" Bryant asked.

"The volume for floors twenty-six to fifty," Bob replied.

Bryant nodded and ducked under the bar.

Bob had time for a few more sips of his tea, which was starting to grow on him.

Bryant reappeared and slid a slender hardbound book onto the counter.

"Twenty-five mana crystals," Bryant advised.

Bob suppressed a wince and pulled the crystals out of his satchel.

Bryant accepted the crystals and then placed his hand on the book's cover.

A second later, a pulse of orange light surrounded the book, and the tag on the spine disappeared.

"And it's yours," Bryant said, sliding the book further across the bar toward Bob.

"Thank you," Bob said as he cracked open the volume.

The book seemed to contain a detailed map of each level on the right-hand page and then a key and bestiary on the left.

The twenty-sixth floor appeared to be a series of canyons, crisscrossed with rivulets of lava and populated by Lava-bears.

Bob closed the book and slid it into his satchel as he stood and nodded to Bryant, saying, "I'll likely be back in a day or two to spend a day reading."

Bryant nodded and graced him with a smile, "Your crystals are always welcome at Kathaleen's," he said.

Bob exited the shop and immediately pulled his cloak around himself. It seemed the wind coming in from the west was now carrying a bit of rain as well.

Keeping his head down and his eyes up, Bob hurried back towards the Adventurers Guild.

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