55. The Charter #3
Out in the smokehouse the rabbits and the squirrels from the cool-morning hunts wanted more wood under them.
Kain went to the smokehouse and fed the fires.
Out at the herb-bed the dead weeds from the heat-stretch wanted cutting back before the cold pinned them in place.
He pulled the weeds and stacked them in a pile by the fence for burning.
Out at the corner of the property the flask was where the flask was.
He didn't go to it. The flask wasn't the work of this day.
The afternoon ran on.
Roan went back under the saddle near the end of the light and walked the road into Tillamore at a pace that suited the rider.
Half the rail at the Kettle was already taken when Kain got there.
Half the rail at the McGrath place across the street was taken.
Half the rail at Garland's shop was taken.
Tillamore had brought its horses to the village the way Tillamore brought its horses on the days the village had a thing to settle.
Kain rode past the Kettle and hitched Roan at the post outside Sam's store where the rail was clear and walked back down the boardwalk to the Kettle and went in through the front door.
The Kettle was full to the back wall.
Sasha was at the bar with the towel on her shoulder and a row of cups in front of her, moving cider and beer along the boards as fast as the boards would take it.
Sam was at the end of the bar with a small wooden gavel held in his hand.
Gerald the brewer was a few feet down the bar talking loud about a piece of gemstone the size of a fist that he'd heard could come out of a young Natural before the Core set in.
Will Martinson stood at the back wall with his shoulders set against the boards and Carol stood at his side.
Carol normally wasn't at a meeting like this.
Carol was normally at the paddock keeping the animals settled.
Tonight Carol was at her father's side, and the look in her eye said she meant to be there for the talking.
Kain slipped behind the bar and started passing cups to Sasha down the line.
"You don't have to," Sasha said.
"The room's shouting. A cup in a hand is a hand not pointing."
Carol came up behind the bar from the other side and started moving cups too.
The three of them ran the row long enough that the worst of the early noise dropped off.
Sam waited at the end of the bar for the dropping to drop.
Then Sam raised the gavel and brought it down on the wood at a steady three beats.
The Kettle quieted.
"I take it most folks have heard the news," Sam said. "Anyone here who hasn't. Anyone who somehow missed a piece of news that came down the road past forty houses today."
A hand went up at the middle of the room. "Gilbert."
A man Kain had seen in town a few times stood. He worked Garland's back lot doing carrying work for the smith and Kain had nodded at him at the festival without ever trading a word with him.
"Is it true Kain Asheld is going off to the Guild."
The room went still on the back of that one.
"No."
Kain didn't say a thing past the No. Gilbert nodded once and sat back down. A breath ran out of the room a man wide.
Sam tipped the gavel at the table in the middle.
"The survey team's report is on that table.
It's the only copy. Don't spill anything on it.
The short of it: the dungeon to the north is B-ranked.
Recently formed. Six months from full maturity.
When it reaches that point a man with the right team and the right contract can take it down.
Most of what you've heard is true. Most of the wild parts you've heard are not. "
A second hand went up at the back. "What happens if no one takes it down at the six months."
Sam looked at Kain. Kain set the cup he had been passing down on the bar.
"A dungeon fills up its floors with the monsters it spawns.
It runs that way through the time it's growing and through the time it's mature.
A dungeon left to itself eventually fills past what its floors can hold.
The state past that filling is called Overflow.
A dungeon in Overflow spawns monsters at the entrance and the monsters at the entrance don't stay at the entrance.
They walk. They walk through whatever country is past the door.
Tillamore is past the door. Tillamore is past the door at the distance the dungeon influences the country. "
A murmur ran through the room.
"What kind of monsters," someone said.
"Depends on the dungeon and depends on how long it's been in Overflow.
A young Natural at the first run of Overflow will push out beetles and stone-crawlers.
The same dungeon a season into Overflow will push out the kinds of things the second and third floor are spawning.
A B-rank in deep Overflow can push out hill trolls. "
"Hill trolls."
A different voice from the side of the room. "I thought you said breaking the dungeon ends the dungeon."
"Breaking the Core ends the dungeon. The Core is at the bottom.
A B-rank Core sits on the tenth floor or lower.
Most parties of warriors don't go to the bottom.
The Guild has a name for those parties. Skimmers.
A Skimmer party takes the top floors of a dungeon, walks out with what it walks out with, comes back when the floors have filled again, takes the top again.
Loot every season. A Skimmer doesn't want the dungeon to end.
A dungeon that ends is a season of pay that ends with it. "
"So we have to find someone who isn't a Skimmer."
"You have to find someone who's willing to take the contract that ends the dungeon. There are some. Not many. Most of them work expensive."
Sam took the gavel back up. "A clean clear-to-Core contract on a B-rank runs twenty to thirty gold for a party of four. The Guild offers a standing twenty-percent subsidy for villages in our classification. The remainder is on the village."
"Twenty to thirty gold."
The room went off. Voices came up from every corner of it.
A man called for borrowing from a city bank.
A woman called for begging in Greyhaven.
A farmer called for selling the herd south.
Someone in the corner said something about robbing a bank and someone next to them slapped them on the arm for the saying of it.
A different farmer said something about cousins out east with money and Tillamore could ask.
Another said the cousins wouldn't send a coin to a village they'd never seen.
A wave of half-shouted ideas rolled across the room.
The plain truth of the matter wasn't in any of the ideas.
The plain truth was the math on Sam's receipt from the back room three days back.
Twenty gold subsidized to sixteen ran longer than the village's yearly trade by close to twice over.
Thirty gold ran longer than the village's yearly trade by close to three.
The village didn't have it. The village wasn't going to have it in six months.
Sam brought the gavel down twice on the wood. The room kept going. Sam brought it down a third time, hard. The room dropped to a level.
Gilbert stood up again. "I've got a question for Kain."
"Ask it."
"Why not have you do it."
The room went all the way quiet. A hundred eyes had a look at Kain at the bar. Kain didn't blame the eyes. The eyes had a logic to them. The man at the bar had killed the gryphon. The man at the bar might kill the dungeon.
"Not as one man," Kain said.
"You killed the gryphon."
"I almost died killing the gryphon. The ribs took a month to come back.
The gryphon was one beast in open country.
A man with a horse and a wolf and a poison Darien had set down on paper for me a stretch before he died had a chance.
A man in the open ground can run. A man can throw fire.
A man can lay a snare three days before the kill and walk the kill into the snare.
I set Darien's recipe on the bait two days ahead of the meet.
I had every piece of the country working with me when the bird came down off the ridge. "
The room watched him.
"A dungeon is not open country. A dungeon is a stack of floors a man walks into not knowing what's on the next floor.
The first floor of a B-rank dungeon is the size of Tillamore.
The second floor is the size of Tillamore.
Every floor down to the floor with the Core on it is the size of Tillamore.
A B-rank dungeon has fifteen floors. Stack them on top of each other and that's a hundred and fifty feet of country between the door and the Core, and every foot of the country between the door and the Core is being grown by the Core specifically to take the man with the knife and grind him into the floor. "
"Fifteen Tillamores."
"Fifteen Tillamores. Dark. Cramped. Monsters that come out of the walls because the walls are growing them.
Floors that drop a man into a pit. Treasure chests that aren't treasure chests but the mouth of a thing that meant to be a chest until the lid came up.
A B-rank dungeon is a factory built to grind the bones of greedy adventurers into dust on the floor of the lower levels. The factory is good at the work."
Kain leaned on the bar.
"I could probably take the first floor of this dungeon by myself.
Maybe the second on a good run. The third would ask for a party.
The seventh would ask for a party twice the size of the third.
The bottom of the floor with the Core on it would not be a place a man with a sword and a wolf walks home from.
I'm not the man for the contract that ends the dungeon.
I will say so and I will keep saying so. I'm sorry."