Chương 35

Anroll Greylan With winter approaching, the weather had decided to punish Anroll as if to match the tongue-lashing he'd gotten from his brother. The rain came down in heavy sheets, making tiny rivers in the cobblestone streets, soaking anyone foolish enough to be out in the early evening unprotected. Even through his heavy cloak, Anroll could feel the oppressive downpour trying to penetrate the fabric.

The warm, mild autumn had suddenly given way to an unusual cold right on the cusp of changing the season, not quite enough to freeze the rain to snow but instead drenching everything in freezing water. By morning, ice and frost would be covering the streets, and Anroll doubted that the lamps would be lit throughout the city tonight. His Warmth Crest fended off the chill for himself, but he could still feel it at the edge of his senses. Even he wouldn't be out in this weather if he hadn't been forced to be so.

He was still aching and exhausted from his journey, his left thigh throbbing despite the expensive healing he'd gotten. He wanted nothing more than to lay down in bed and sleep for a week. Instead, he was dragging himself back to the Adventurer's Guild. It was either that or listen to Rance yell at him even more. He pushed the door open with a grunt, trudging into the entryway. He heard the clerk call out to him, warning that most of the guild's services weren't available at this hour.

He ignored the young man and scraped his boots off, then walked forward, loosening his hood. The mildly annoyed expression on the clerk's face vanished as Anroll revealed his weathered features and distinctive mustache.

"S-sorry, sir. I didn't know you were back already." The youth stammered, and Anroll struggled to remember his name. After another few moments of mental grasping, it finally clicked. The kid had worked in the smaller guild hall across town before, that's why he looked familiar.

"Tal, wasn't it?" Anroll smiled, seeing the startled expression on the man's face.

"Forget about it. New cloak, how could you know it was me? I'm just here to find someone." The woman browsing the job board—the only other occupant of the Guild Hall—heard that and quickly pulled her hood up. Without a word, she walked for the door. Anroll didn't recognize her, but he wasn't surprised. Most people knew by now that when Anroll Greylan was 'looking for someone' it was best to stay out of his way. He didn't dissuade her of the idea.

This time his request might be more innocent, but a reputation was a weapon all its own.

"Um… w-what can we do for you, sir?" The clerk looked about, but despite being the largest Guild Hall in the region, right in the middle of the capital city, the place was deserted. At this hour, everyone had already concluded their business and left, with the weather probably forcing them out and to shelter sooner rather than later. Anroll chuckled.

"As I said, I'm looking for someone. Not for a job, don't worry. Just a favor to an old… friend." The poor kid nodded dumbly, but visibly relaxed.

"Right. Um, I just thought you'd be up at Merriweather already." The assumption completely threw off Anroll from his planned questions. He squinted at the boy, then scratched at his cheek and groaned. He wracked his brain for where he'd heard the name before, and finally placed it. A city near the Theocracy, only nominally under Thallis jurisdiction nowadays.

"Kid, I've been in Kalten for five months, and I just got back this morning. I've had a long day dealing with some stuff you don't even want to know about. Why would I be at all interested in Merriweather? I'm just looking for a girl I brought by last year to see the place. Thought she might have gone through here." With an apologetic smile, the young man nodded.

"W-well, I've only worked at this hall for a few weeks, but if it was recent I can try to remember?" Anroll groaned.

"Falnus help me… no, not your fault. Just bad timing." He rubbed his forehead.

"Maybe she's registered and has a card, that might help." He hated to pull strings like that, especially with this poor kid, but Anroll grit his teeth as he remembered the anger on Rance's face. Not to mention the worry on Beatrice's. Ellen's disappearance was his fault, he needed to fix this. And fast.

"Card? How would that help?" The boy was even greener than Anroll had thought, showing visible confusion over the idea.

"Card. Guild card!" Anroll sighed and slumped over the counter.

"If she registered, she'll have a card. If she registered weeks ago, she'll have a copy of her card here. I can have a duplicate made and use that to help track her down. Problem is she's likely to be using an alias if she's smart." Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"I didn't think anyone but the owner could use a Guild card," the boy mumbled, confused. Anroll groaned.

"Oh for… why do you think there are copies? It's for registration! You can't withdraw money but you can get registered name and status." And sometimes more, he didn't add.

"Just look for any recent Ellens or Matildas. Those are probably the names she'd use. And check the black cards first!" A hurried nod, and the man ducked into the office beside the counter, rummaging in the drawers for the black cards—the cards of adventurers that had died. Anroll only hoped that the Guild was as organized as it used to be, and filed them by date of death.

"Why would I be in Merriweather, anyway?" That incongruity finally hit Anroll, and he frowned at the whole absurd idea. He'd been so caught up in his own problem he hadn't stopped to wonder at the seemingly random question. There was nothing at Merriweather as far as he knew. The guild clerk paused his search to lean out the doorway, staring.

"You really have been gone! I thought you'd be headed up to the new dungeon. I thought you were already there!" Anroll jerked upright with a muttered curse.

"A new dungeon? Are you sure? Why didn't you… wait, no, I didn't even give you a chance. When did it happen? Do we know anything about it yet?" Blinking, the clerk turned befuddled eyes on the famous adventurer now demanding answers he didn't know.

"Uh… very sure, it's recent. A few weeks ago, so we're still getting information. They're probably going to have a full report ready in a week or two." The man shrugged.

"I assumed you knew. It's named Greylan's Legacy, you're the only Greylan who adventures." Anroll bit down another curse, then drew a deep breath to calm himself.

"I… see." A dungeon with his family name on it. As one of the few people in the world who knew why dungeons formed—and more importantly, why they stopped—this was news that made him almost forget about the need to hunt down his niece. Almost. Ellen was still more important than whatever was going on in the middle of nowhere.

"I'll check it out after I track down this girl." Anroll grumbled to himself and slumped on the counter again.

"I'm sure by then it'll be formally prepared and graded. Besides, Merriweather is too far away in this weather. Might as well wait until the thaw. Any luck on the cards?" He prayed for a no, since a black card would mean that his niece was dead. His throat went dry when the man paused and frowned.

"That's odd. Good thing I checked the black cards first…" The clerk stood up straight and walked back into the room, just as Anroll felt the panic rise. The sight of a Bronze card immediately soothed his worry. A little.

"That card isn't black," Anroll stated, firmly. With a small shrug, the clerk turned the card over a few times.

"I know that. It was in with the black cards though. Someone must have gotten sloppy. It's listed as an Ellen Tember though. Does that sound like who you want?" Inwardly, Anroll groaned. Her mother's maiden name? That was a terrible alias! It's like she was asking to be found immediately! Out loud, he sighed.

"Yeah, that's her. I'll pay the fee for a card copy." The young clerk gave Anroll an odd look, but nodded. Few people could request a card copy, but Anroll had such a privilege. It was just so expensive that even those who could do it tended to avoid it.

"May I uh… ask why you're after this person?"

"You may not." Anroll grunted at the nosiness, which was a mild breach of etiquette for a Guild clerk. And he certainly wasn't going to tell anyone he had a niece. Rance had been insistent on staying out of the gossip, so very few people even knew he had a brother, let alone other family. Suitably chastened, the rest of the copying process was done in silence, with Anroll watching carefully.

The actual copying didn't take any expensive materials, but the high price was to discourage too many Guild cards being out in circulation. A Gold Tier like himself made good money, but this hurt the purse even so. He slid the ten marks over and took the card, stepping over to the fireplace without another word. Anroll hadn't really expected to get a lead so quickly. It had been a stroke of luck—or something—that his niece's card had somehow been misfiled into the death file. Odd for that to ever happen…

the Guild was getting sloppy with its paperwork, if someone could mistake the shining bronze for a dull flat black. Turning to block the view with his body, he set about figuring out where she'd run off to. If she was still alive and had successfully gotten a license, she must have taken some of his lessons to heart. He'd never really expected her to go for it, and didn't consider her ready, but Ellen was either lucky or more talented than he knew.

He wrapped a few strands of the coppery hair he'd taken from his brother's house around the card, then held it up to the firelight. The name glowed gently, but his Personal Divination needed a little more than just the card and the hair. He ran his finger along the edge of his knife and pressed the bloodied print against the card, hoping his close relation to Ellen would work in lieu of her blood. Immediately, Anroll felt it. The faint tug, weaker than what he was used to.

He turned his head back and forth, getting a feel for what direction he was being pulled in. Normally, he could get a rough idea of distance as well, but the imperfect casting left that more of a mystery than the direction. It didn't matter. As soon as he lined himself up and thought about where he was facing, Anroll groaned again. All the pieces clicked together in his head. A new dungeon near Merriweather. Bearing the Greylan name. Ellen's direction… directly toward the frontier.

It might not be Merriweather, but the odds were good that she was behind the naming of the dungeon somehow. Which meant his niece, who had run away from home months ago and gotten him shouted out of the house for doing so, was on the edge of the kingdom. Where by now few merchants traveled, and the roads were starting to get bad. This wouldn't matter much to Anroll, who had built out his Perks for harsh travel. He could make the trip… it just wouldn't be pleasant.

He concentrated on the card more firmly, trying to resolve the public information. Slowly, the Level indicator formed, finally coalescing into a neat number 11. A number that made Anroll's eyebrow lift, it was so high.

"I'd have figured 9, maybe 10 at best even if she was busy… did she go into the dungeon?" The Class indicator took much longer. Letters swirled into words that just bumped into one another in a confused jumble. No matter how he concentrated, the Class name slipped by him, fading back into nothing before his next attempt tugged more letters to appear. It took him seven tries to get the Class to finally form. He stared.

"What in the ethereal blazes is a Townsaver?"