Dungeon Life

Chapter Three-Hundred Fifteen

Rezlar

The young Lord Mayor does his best to not fidget as he sits at his large dining table. The fight between Rocky and Olander was beyond his wildest expectations, even with Miller quietly making him aware of who Olander was well beforehand. It really makes him appreciate the fight he and his friends had with the boxer, and see just how much further they can all grow.

He’s still not cut out for actually being an adventurer, but it’s still fun to grow in strength together, and to just hang out. He gets precious little time to do either, and with all the happenings over winter and into spring, he doubts he’ll have an excess of time to spend with them. This dinner is a prime example of that, in fact.

With Olander making his presence officially known, there’s no avoiding an official meeting, complete with all the trappings of ceremony. At least Fourdock is remote enough that he doesn’t have any other nobility nearby enough to get to the meeting in time. So he does his best to suck it up and put on a polite face as he nods to Miller, signalling for him to let Olander Wideblade into the dining hall for a shared dinner.

The ashen elf smoothly moves to the grand doors and opens them, speaking clearly as he does. “Announcing the Crown Inspector, Olander Wideblade, newly-acclaimed Champion of Rocky’s Arena.”

Said champion is fully decked out in his attire of office, armor gleaming and glaive on his back. Rezlar notices the simpler enchanted belt around his hips, as well as the wooden box containing the official Champion’s Belt under the tall elf’s arm. He gives a nod that just technically reaches the threshold for a bow, acknowledging his host while also ensuring his own station is recognized, before his eyes dart around the room for a few moments. He smiles to himself as he strides forward.

“I hope I’m not being presumptuous in guessing you’d prefer not to stand on ceremony, Lord Mayor?”

Rezlar does his best to school his surprise, but he can tell Olander is fooled not at all. He sighs and slumps slightly, waving a hand at the seat to his right. “You would be correct, Crown Inspector.”

“Just Olander, if we’re going to forgo formalities,” he replies as Miller pulls out the chair for him, and he smoothly takes his seat.

Miller exits to get the first course, leaving Rezlar to try to figure out how to talk to Olander. What can he even say? Thankfully, the adventurer kicks off the conversation.

“I hope the auditors aren’t proving too onerous?”

Rezlar smiles at that and shakes his head. “They’re no problem at all. I was honestly expecting some form of audit once they processed the tax report. Thedeim has been great for almost every industry in Fourdock, and once the ships are built, we’ll be a bustling trade hub, I think.”

Olander nods at that. “That’s what it seems like to me, yeah. I’m better at hitting things than in trading, but even I know a thriving dungeon is more of a gold mine than a literal gold mine!” He chuckles at his own joke as Miller brings in a few flaky pastries filled with a vegetable and cheese mix.

“Indeed. I hope the Crown will improve the roads to Fourdock soon, too. I think we’ll have a lot of sea and land trading to do, especially with the shortcuts to the Southwood. I haven’t had a chance to meet any of the orcish nomads yet, but the dungeon seems like it gets a lot of them as delvers. It could be a good way to get some of their more exotic goods, too.”

Olander finishes a bite of pastry with an appreciative sound. “Oh, that’s good. And trade with the orcs would be good, too. Most goods from the Wanderlands goes through Meeting, and the city-state makes sure they get their share of whatever goes through.” He smirks as he lifts another forkful of pastry. “Do you think you could manage something similar with the dwarven holds?”

Rezlar snickers at the idea around his own mouthful, and swallows before answering. “I doubt it, but you can never tell with Thedeim around. That kind of unpredictability is why we’re looking to build a hold of our own in the mountains, in case anything happens and the town needs to evacuate.”

Olander quirks an eyebrow at that as Miller takes away their plates. “Are you worried about Thedeim?” he asks, clearly doubtful. Rezlar laughs and shakes his head before explaining.

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“When he vassalized Hullbreak, the dungeon tried to send a scion to wipe out the town, threatening them both with starvation if Thedeim didn’t back down. His conduit dealt with both the storm and the scion, and Thedeim was successful in bringing Hullbreak to heel, but it was still a concerning time for the citizenry. It’s going to be a joint project between Fourdock and Thedeim. I think there will be more than one breakthrough in the construction.”

Olander nods at that. “Ah, that makes sense. I had heard a few scattered accounts of ‘Fluffles the Stormeater’, but never got the chance to get details beyond a dungeoneer report.”

Rezlar nods as well. “It was also what spurred me to… well, take my lordship more seriously. I was basically absent, letting the local merchant guilds keep the town running smoothly. I didn’t want to make a mistake and destroy everything. But I didn’t have any contingencies for an emergency like that, and the townsfolk were rightfully wondering why not. So now we have a plan, and I’m taking a more direct role in the governance of Fourdock. Even if a lot of it is just approving the plans of the different guilds.”

Olander chuckles at that. “It seems to be working, at least. And it beats forcing everyone to do things your way and making them hate you for it. When you have competent lieutenants, a competent commander just orders them to do what they were getting ready to do anyway.”

They chat more as the meal progresses, about scandals and triumphs in the capital, about delving, about life in general. Rezlar finds himself more and more at ease around the other elf, glad he’s neither too pompous nor intimidating. He certainly has a presence, and some of his delving tales reinforce for Rezlar that it’s not a career for him, but he’s also easy to talk to.

As dessert is served, Rezlar wonders if he could ask him for some advice. Miller has given his own input, and though Rezlar trusts his butler fully, he’s not going to pretend he’s unbiased. But Olander doesn’t have any attachment to cloud his judgement, and no reason to try to manipulate his decision. He’s quiet through the final course, trying to find a way to be subtle about it, and it’s only after he sets his fork down does he realize Olander has been quietly waiting for him to say something.

If subtlety will be seen right through, be direct then. “Olander.”

“Yes?” he replies, leaning back in his chair, satisfied with the meal.

“How did… how did your friends take you revealing your position?”

Olander tilts his head in confusion before giving a warm smile. “Ah. They took it very well. A lot better than most others have before, if I’m honest.”

Rezlar winces at that as Olander continues. “A lot of times, people will want to use your position for their own gain, though some are more direct about it than others. It takes a bit of experience to recognize when someone will put their ambitions ahead of a friendship, and those times… are painful, don’t doubt that.” The older elf pauses for a few seconds, a complex look on his face as he relives a few memories.

“But it’s not a guarantee. I’ve made lasting friendships while undercover, just as I’ve had crushing disappointments. In the end, I think it’s better to tell them the truth, if it’s possible. It’s good to have people you don’t need to pretend around, and if they turn out to not be those kinds of people, it’s better to know early than late.”

Rezlar considers that as Miller clears the table of the dishes, leaving their drinks as he thinks. His eyes follow the ashen elf as he considers. Miller seems pretty confident Freddie and Rhonda will handle the truth well, but he’s still worried about what might happen if they don’t.

He’s knocked from his thoughts as Olander speaks up. “Rezlar.”

He shakes himself and looks at the older elf, wearing a serious face as he speaks to the younger now. “I know it’s not easy. Sometimes I’d rather fight a murderous dungeon on my own than face something like that. But just like facing down a monster will make you stronger, facing this with the truth will do the same. Even if the worst happens, there’ll be others for you to learn to lean on and trust. Even if it’s a disaster, don’t let it cut you off from others. Because when it goes well, it’s worth all the other pains.”

“Well said, sir,” replies Miller, and Rezlar doesn’t even jump at his sudden appearance. He’s simply too used to the sudden comings and goings of his butler. “I’ve given the young master similar advice myself, but sometimes one needs to hear from one not so invested.”

Olander snorts at that. “And listen to your butler. I’m pretty sure giving good advice is one of the main subjects at butling school.”

Miller dons a small smirk at that. “Ah, have you had a chance to listen to many of my colleagues? Perhaps you might enjoy the profession, once you’re done being the Crown Inspector?”

Olander shakes his head. “I don’t think I’m the type. I’m more the sort to make messes, rather than clean them up.”

“Ah, but sir, a proper butler keeps the messes from happening in the first place.”

The two banter back and forth as Rezlar thinks over the advice. He really does want to tell them. It’s mostly been the fear of them taking it poorly that has kept him from it. But the more he thinks about it, the more he thinks Olander is right about it making him stronger. He’s had people he thought were friends betray him, before he came here. Sure, they were the treasons of children and petty in scope, but it still sticks with him. He really did let them isolate him from people in general.

But… he doesn’t want to be alone! He nods to himself, resolve firm. He’ll tell them. Now he just needs to figure out how, and when.