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    Village Ellen

     

    “Typical. Run off in the morning and leave me to deal with the problems,” Ellen grumbled.

    The annoyed redhead slid another chair in next to the table, just in time to see another villager wander in. She didn’t know this one, but she’d already said hello to Pauley, the owner of the mill, and a few others she recognized. The common room was getting more crowded by the minute, and this had been one of the last chairs in storage.

    It shouldn’t have surprised her that the village would use the place as a gathering spot. Most villages this size used a sort of town square or something, but most villages this size didn’t have a large inn either. She already saw basically everyone important in town huddled in the room, chatting about various gossip while they waited for the gathering to complete.

    “You’re handling this so well!” Lauren’s voice exclaimed from behind her, clapping her on the shoulder. “You know, if you keep at it you can be offered the Innkeeper Class even if you’re a Laborer base. It’s offered by multiple Tier 1 evolutions.”

    Ellen smiled back at the older woman. “I don’t…” She trailed off mid-sentence to consider what she was saying. She did enjoy helping out and getting people comfortable. Of course, what Lauren didn’t say was that the most likely Class to bridge the gap between the Tier 1 Laborer Class and the Tier 3 Innkeeper was the less than flattering Wench Class.

    Except she was a Tender now, wasn’t she? She could go directly toward the track that Lauren encouraged. Or… something adjacent. That could be just as good.

    “You know… I’ll think about it before I hit Level 11. Thanks, Lauren.” Ellen smiled toward the woman, who beamed warmly at her. It was a marked change from the slight reluctance when she’d first arrived.

    The ale was really flowing today, despite it being early afternoon instead of evening. Tobias had watered it down properly for the crowd since it wasn’t a drinking night, but she couldn’t help but worry a little bit.

    “Lauren, make sure that Tobias leaves enough ale for the adventurers. We’ll probably want them to speak well of the place when they get back to Merriweather.”

    The woman laughed lightly. “Oh don’t worry, we have a small cask set aside just for them. It’s good to see you’re already thinking about such things though!”

    That smile died a little as Lauren thought about the situation, and she sighed heavily. “I don’t know if we can expand the inn fast enough to handle this. No one expected a dungeon. How will we house and feed all these people?”

    “I’m sure it will get handled, I know a little about adventurers,” Ellen reassured.

    “Yes, we’re counting on you to help us out!” The woman smiled again and then rushed off to fetch more ale before Ellen could respond. This left the girl staring dumbly after the older woman, scratching the back of her head.

    “What was that about?” Ellen mumbled to herself.

    Her confusion was interrupted by the loud thumping of Pauley’s tankard on the table. The villagers came here frequently to relax, but unlike the guests they brought their own mugs. Pauley’s was a huge, heavy pewter mug, in keeping with his position as the mill owner.

    “All right, everyone. We only have until the adventurers return, so if we’re going to do anything we figure it out now.” Pauley’s voice was loud and carried well. The man’s broad frame suited his booming voice, which was one he got plenty of practice using at the mill.

    The room quieted, and Ellen quickly looked about to find a place to sit. She settled on a stool near the hearth, nice and out of the way of the village chatter.

    “What’s this all about?” One of the men asked. Ellen wasn’t familiar with him, but she knew he worked at the tiny blacksmith down the road. The village had less than 200 people, so one smith served everyone easily enough.

    Pauley slammed his mug down again, halting the slight chatter that had begun before he could speak. The large man glowered at the rest of the villagers, daring them to interrupt him again.

    Wisely, none did. Pauley was a kind man, but not the sort of man anyone wanted to annoy when he was serious.

    “What this is about is how we have adventurers in town, just up the mountain, poking around at a dungeon.” Pauley paused long enough for that to sink in. “Yeah, a real dungeon. They’re assessing it now, apparently. I’m not sure what that means, but Tobias has some news that matters. Looks like our days of being a quiet little town are numbered. Someone’s bought up the land right out from under us.”


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    That started up a murmur, and Ellen winced as she shrank down into her stool as if she could hide from it.

    “What does that mean for us?” Jenson, the cobbler, called that out with a frown. “It’ll be more business for me, but can the village stay the same? I moved out here to get away from the city, not make one!”

    Pauley held up a hand for quiet again. “Easy, easy. I’ll get to it.” He sighed and adjusted his wide-brimmed hat… then remembered his manners and tossed it onto the peg nearby.

    “So first, the dungeon.” The mill owner grunted and gestured up toward the mountain. “It’s going to bring in a lot of adventurers. Now we can try to expand to accommodate, but Merriweather isn’t that far away, and adventurers often just sleep in the wilderness. We might be able to get away with just being a way station. If you want to ramp up business, you can, but if you need more employees that’s a little different. The larger we grow, the more expensive everything is, but our lumber isn’t going to be competitive if we raise prices on it too much.”

    Solemn nods all around, and the blacksmith was frowning. He tapped his finger on the table. “I’m not set up to make swords and armor. If they’re wanting that, I’ll need to expand.”

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