Deephouse: Further adventures involving the employees of a mid-level adventuring corporation. New to Deephouse? Start here.
<PREV
Durgin was exploring Deephouse—looking for signs of life or an excuse to leave—when he met the ghost.
Durgin stood looking into shadowy barracks. Three beds were occupied, despite the hour. He hovered at the threshold, deciding if he should wake one of them.
“Ohhh, a voyeur? How illicit.”
Durgin spun around.
It’d been a man in life and, even semi-transparent, an air of aristocratic disdain remained. The ghost wore floppy long sleeves, very tight trousers, and a cape that stirred on an imperceptible breeze. He smiled hungrily. “A fellow admirer of the flesh?”
“Ahh… no.” Durgin looked between the ghost and the barracks. “I was just looking around.”
“Do not be so coy! No, no—I caught you with the red hand. You were peeping and hoping for seeing, yes?”
Durgin shook his head emphatically. “I was looking for someone to talk to. I’m new here.”
“Really? Tell Blasé something he does not know.” The ghost inclined his nose and started drifting away.
“Wait! Hold on a second.” Durgin started after him.
“There is no need to repeat yourself.” The ghost started passing through a wall.
“I’m Durgin Grimforge. The new…”
The ghost disappeared.
“… foreman.”
The ghost’s head reemerged. “The new foreman? Well, why didn’t you say so? I am Blasé, major-domo of Deephouse. You have arrived just in time. Come—the triplets have confused chamber pot and cooking pot again. So amusing.”
“That will have to wait. Do you have account books? Ledgers? I need to get a grasp on the numbers so we can turn this place around. Quickly.”
“Ahh, the enthusiasm of the living! I miss it so. But what you ask, it is impossible. The accounts haven’t been kept in years.”
“Then how did the last foreman run this place?”
“He came to us many years ago. A dwarf, much like yourself, full of ideas and ambitions.” Blasé shrugged. “Ahh, but this place, it drained all that from him. It is haunted, damned. I know of what I speak. He gradually abandoned his plans. And then one day—poof!—he disappeared. But do not worry, I am sure nothing ill will befall you.” His smile was full of cold cheer.
Durgin sank into a chair and put his head in his hands. Just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, he learned something new about this place.
“Ahh—that look of dejection! I know it so. But do not worry, it is not so bad. Eventually the boredom becomes a comfort.”
“Is there any way to quickly make some money? Do we have any active operations?”
“No, no, no, I am afraid not. The sites we own have long been picked over. Anything else would need to be leased. But that will not come cheap.”
“Spend money to make money,” Durgin muttered. It was a problem he knew intimately.
“Something like this, yes.”
“No prospects, no income, no hope.” Why did Perlen bother hiring me?
“Ahh, but my dour little friend—there is one option. The Deep Ones continue to send missives. But, of course, they are Deep Ones. Your predecessor thought it better to avoid them.”
Durgin didn’t see as he had a choice. “Show me these letters.”
<PREV