Deephouse: Further adventures involving the employees of a mid-level adventuring corporation. New to Deephouse? Start here.
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Thornview: A small town offering neither thorns nor views. A place of grime-caked windows, mute smokestacks, sullen stares. Ill-favored. Forgotten.
The nearest dungeons have long been picked over. There haven’t even been rumors of brigands in a generation. It’s an impractical place to base an adventuring corporation. You have to question any company that tried it.
Torchbearer Exploration Corp.: An adventuring corporation with regional headquarters in Thornview.
Durgin arrived to the interview 10 minutes early and spent the time trying to decide if his suit should be buttoned or unbuttoned. Buttoned was more professional but accented his gut; he looked like he was trying to smuggle in a ham.
He decided to go unbuttoned. He didn’t expect to get the job. Might as well be comfortable.
The company’s offices were on the second floor of a three-story building. Thornview didn’t even have the distinction of being a place that used to be someplace; he’d never heard of it before Elryn had showed him the posting. It seemed to be one of those places that popped up in the middle of nowhere and persisted on stubborn inertia.
He sat on a small couch just inside the door, a briefcase in his lap. The briefcase was empty. It wasn’t even his—he’d borrowed it. It’d seemed like a good idea at the time. Now he just felt silly.
The office buzzed with activity. Ravens swept in through open windows, scrolls clutched in their talons. A bronze-skinned woman with tiny horns filed her nails while dictating to an animated quill. The floor rumbled as a half-troll tromped toward the restrooms. And under it all, the wordless murmur of conversation and the steady clank of typewriters.
Nearby, a chiseled male centaur was talking to a tree about “dungeon yields” balanced against the escalating costs of life insurance policies. Durgin understood the words but their meaning was secreted behind doors he couldn’t unlock. He realized he had no idea what adventuring corporations actually did.
He glanced at the clock. It was five minutes after the hour. Maybe that was a sign. Maybe he should leave before he made a fool of himself. There were other ways to provide for his family. Probably. Although he’d already taken eight other interviews and had gotten eight nos.
“Excuse me, sir?” The receptionist half-stood from behind her desk. “Can I get you something to drink?” She was a willowy elf with long silver hair and purple eyes. The plaque on her desk identified her as Aelindra Moonsong.
“No. No, thank you.” He tried to smile.
“It’s really no bother. I get tired of sitting herall day, anyway.”
“I’m fine. Thank you.”
She looked at him doubtfully but let it drop. “I’m sure Perlen will be with you shortly. He’s very busy.”
A half-elven man burst through the door, all breathless enthusiasm and wide eyes. “Aelindra—you’ll never guess where I was!”
Aelindra’s eyes slid toward Durgin. “Wherever it was, I’m sure it was very important.”
The half-elf waved a hand. “C’mon, guess.”
“A meeting with corporate? Volunteering at the orphanage again?”
“What? What are you even saying? No—I went to that new massage parlor. The one run by a genie. ‘Shimzea’s Many Hands’.” He giggled. “I just wanted my back fixed, but she really rubbed my lamp, if you know what I mean.”
“Oh!” Aelindra looked horrified. “Oh dear.”
“She worked out all my kinks. And introduced me to new ones.”
“Umm...Perlen? Your 3 o’clock is here.” She indicated Durgin with a nod of her head. “The applicant for Deephouse’s foreman.”
The half-elf smiled at Durgin. It was a friendly smile, but something lingered in its shadow.
“Ahh, Mr. Grimforge! Why is your forge so grim?” Perlen laughed at his own joke. He shook Durgin’s hand. “I am Perlen Sunbrook, captain of this ship and you, sir, have permission to come aboard. Right this way.”
Durgin followed Perlen to his office. Aelindra’s words rang in his head. The applicant. The job had been posted for some time. Had they really had no other candidates?
All Durgin’s doubts were swiftly replaced by a single question: What am I getting myself into?
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