Deephouse: Further adventures involving the employees of a mid-level adventuring corporation. New to Deephouse? Start here.
“Before we get started, can I ask you a personal question?”
Durgin had prepared for the interview by imagining all the questions he might have to field. Questions about his failed businesses. About his lack of managerial experience. About his mining ignorance.
He was a dwarf, it was true, but claiming he’d some kind of born-in knowledge of breaking stone was just foolishness. He’d lived in cities all his life. At best, his was a passing familiarity with the subject.
But he sensed there was a wrong answer to the odd question, and likewise was anxious to put off admitting all he didn’t know, so he shrugged and said, “Yeah, sure.”
Perlen Sunbrook smiled. His teeth were crooked, his brown hair badly receded, his eyes shadowed by dark circles. “Great. Listen to this and tell me what you think.”
The half-elf sat behind an enormous mahogany desk. The surface was littered with objects, each as random as the last. Perlen pushed aside a fake boulder with a sword rising from it; the text on the hilt read: Pull in case of emergency. He smoothed out a scroll on the desk.
“This is from my ex, Percephona,” he said. “We broke up last year because she wanted to see other people. I asked if she wanted to see anyone in particular and she said, ‘anyone but you.’” Perlen shrugged, grinning. “It’s a real will-they, won’t-they situation.
“She sent me this message on LiveScroll: ‘Perlen, I left my mom’s scarf at your place. Can you leave it outside the front door? That way we don’t have to see each other.’” Perlen leaned back in his chair. “What’d you think?”
“I think she wants her scarf back.” Mostly Durgin was thinking about how this was the weirdest interview he’d ever heard of.
“Really though? In my experience, women speak in subtext and innuendo. They rarely say what they mean. I guess because they don’t know what they think.”
Durgin imagined the secondhand shrapnel he’d take telling Elryn about this part of the interview. “My wife knows exactly what she thinks, and says what she means.”
Perlen waved him off. “She’s a dwarf. Right? All dwarves are blunt to the point of insult. Percephona is a human. Very sensual. Totally different. She says one thing and does another.” He re-read the last line. “’That way we don’t have to see each other.’ Is she afraid she’ll see me and be overcome with passion?”
“That’s one interpretation.”
“It’s the only one! It’s so obvious. You’ve been out of the game too long, my friend.” Perlen dropped the scroll into the drawer. “So... do you have any questions for me?”
“Uhh...” He had lots of questions about the job, but this bizarre non-interview had chased them into hiding. “The posting mentioned extensive benefits?”
“That’s HR speak—bleh—but the perks are pretty good. We’ll relocate your family to Thornview. You’ll have use of a wagon. Well, your wife will. We don’t allow company wagons into Underearth. Damned goblins are always stealing them. You get one free resurrection a year, so that’s nice.”
“I’m sorry—did you say resurrection?”
“Of course—you can’t do the job if you’re dead. A different branch once tried using undead labor. It didn’t end well.”
Durgin held out a hand in a stop gesture. “Can we go back to the resurrection thing?”
“It’s a great perk, isn’t it? Torchbearer Exploration Corp really knows how to take care of their employees. The job pays a gold a day, plus percentages on whatever you extract—minerals, precious metals, gems, whatever. That’s where the real money is.”
Durgin nodded dimly. A gold coin a day? He’d never have to worry about money again.
“There’s also a signing bonus. 10 gold, payable after your first 90 days.” Perlen stood and offered Durgin a handshake. “So when can you start?”