Chương 88: (B2.24)

24) Village Ellen The expansion had been a good idea, it turned out. Ellen was pretty sure the Treetop Inn would be full much more often even with the extra rooms and beds. Between the upswing in merchant traffic and the inexperienced adventurers coming through, the common room was packed more often than not. The villagers were a little irritable about losing their favorite gathering spot, but none of them complained about the coin the newcomers brought in for last-minute purchases. It did keep Ellen busy though.

Even with Lauren's help, it was overwhelming, and Camilla had to come in and help as well. Even Jack was there, which Ellen was grateful for, but she was pretty curious why those two had suddenly thrown themselves into helping to maintain the inn. The pay wasn't great for part time work like that, and there weren't a ton of ways for them to spend their money unless they were planning on a trip. Maybe they were going to Merriweather soon? Ellen wondered to herself. The real problem was the guests.

Not only was there a crowd, but they could get pretty rowdy in a way that Ellen really had grown to hate. If she'd have known how many adventurers acted like bullies and brats, she might have just stayed at home and none of this would have ever happened. Never had she missed Edmund more.

"GIRL! I ASKED FOR MORE ALE!" And every once in a while, one of the guests got her really, really angry. Not because he was yelling at her… because he was yelling at Camilla.

"S-sorry!" the younger girl called out, hurrying over and stumbling in her haste to deliver two more mugs. She caught herself before spilling anything, but Ellen winced anyway. The girl was still Classless, but Ellen had a feeling that Tavern Keeper wasn't in her future. It wasn't that she was clumsy, but Camilla really didn't have any sort of talent for this sort of thing. Ellen already knew trouble was brewing, so she smiled pleasantly to the group quietly chatting next to her and apologized.

"Sorry, I'll be right back. Please be patient, something just came up." To her relief, the spearman sitting at the head of the table gave her a small nod and waved her off. She saw his eyes dart over to the troublemakers and back, but he didn't say anything. The man knew what the issue was, she realized. He wouldn't blame her.

"Bran, calm down, she's just a kid," one of the others was saying. She was a rough-looking woman with a scar over one eye, and definitely didn't look like a newbie adventurer. Her companions were looking vaguely annoyed, but none of them moved to stop the large man. He already stank of ale and sweat and the dirt of the road, but also of leather and oil… he wasn't an amateur. Camilla had already staggered back, but the big man—Bran, it seemed—took one step to close the distance.

He was well over six feet tall and looked to be made of pure muscle, though unlike Ellen's expectations he was quite smooth-shaven and if anything had a bit of a babyface… if not for the hook nose. He was also very clearly drunk, which lowered her estimation of his experience quite a lot. Before he could finish his stride, Ellen stepped forward between him and Camilla. She did not bother being polite.

"You do not intimidate or belittle the help," Ellen growled.

"I am going to have to ask you to leave. Now." Silently, she designated him as an unfriendly to the Townsaver's Sanctuary Ability, and as an afterthought added his friends. They weren't making it worse, but they didn't seem surprised by this behavior, and hadn't really put any effort into stopping him. Behind her, Ellen could smell and hear Camilla's embarrassment. The sad fact of the matter was that this was the third time she'd stepped in to defend her. That's why Ellen didn't hesitate…

she'd already seen the results of a more relaxed attitude toward this behavior. It had only been two days since more diverse groups had started arriving, and she was already jaded. The common room grew quiet as everyone started to notice the confrontation. Bran glared down at Ellen blearily, teeth clenched, and cracked his knuckles… but Ellen could already see that his companions were looking uncomfortable. Not because of the upcoming threat of a fight… because of the silence in the room.

About two thirds of those in the room had already stayed the night once. The others who hadn't were sober enough to pick up on the clues from the first group. The clues like how they just watched and didn't jeer, make comments, or try to interfere. They were all watching, including Theodore in the corner. The mage had seen this enough times that he even had a half-amused smirk on his lips.

"The girl was too slow," Bran rumbled, glowering down at Ellen. He was so focused on her that he hadn't noticed the tone shift in the room, unlike his companions. The man was ready for a fight that Ellen had no intention of actually giving him. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"Uh, Bran," the woman from earlier muttered.

"I think you should back off. Something ain't right with this one…" And that was when Bookkeeper stepped in. With a flick of her wrist, Bookkeeper slid her glasses on and sighed.

"Causing a disturbance, threatening the help, threatening my sister, refusing to leave when requested by an employee of the inn. Your total fine is nine marks, and I've banned you from the dungeon for a period of one week. In one week's time we will process a new request and find a slot for you appropriate to your needs and the dungeon development at that time." Slowly, Bran's eyes focused again and he blinked, realizing that his entire purpose here had been yanked out from under him thanks to a drunken outburst.

His mouth opened and shut, trying to find words for what had just happened.

"That's a ridiculous fine!" the woman shouted as she leapt to her feet.

"How are we supposed to afford that? We wouldn't be here if we had that kind of money?"

"You absolutely have that kind of money," Bookkeeper answered calmly.

"I've been watching your spending habits and assessing your equipment. You clearly had more than enough for several entry fees into the dungeon, as well. We don't tolerate disruption of this village. It's trying to prepare for a Spring Festival, and they have nothing to do with the dungeon… but we're perfectly happy to remove that privilege if you cause problems for the village."

Ellen put her hands on her hips as the inebriated warrior looked at Bookkeeper, then back at her, as if assessing his odds against the two of them. Thus far, Ellen had avoided any actual bar fights… partially thanks to Bookkeeper and the other adventurers keeping things calm and deescalating confrontations. One of these days her luck would run out… but hopefully not this day. Bran glowered at Ellen as he pulled himself to his full height, staring down at her.

The anger was there, though Ellen could smell that he didn't really have the desire to fight. She wasn't sure how she could smell that… she still didn't know all the details about how her senses and instincts worked, but everything inside her screamed that she should stand her ground and answer the challenge. She knew he wasn't prepared for someone to fight back… but he could probably win against most.

That's when the fit but slender fellow of the group slid between the table and Bran, placing a hand on the man's arm. He smiled.

"Now, let's not get hasty. Bran's just had a lot to drink and we're all under stress. We can apologize, but that fine and punishment is a little steep," he said in smooth, easygoing tones.

"We'll pay a large tip for the trouble, apologize to the young lady, and everything will be fine, yes? Yes." Bookkeeper frowned, then pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

"I suppose I might have been a bit hasty in the fines," she muttered. The words came out reluctantly, given how Bookkeeper hated to make mistakes. It really did make sense though. What the man said was totally reasonable, it wasn't like Bran had really hurt anyone… NOTICE Your Steady Mind Perk has activated. That Steady Mind Perk was really making itself worthwhile. Ellen glanced back at Camilla, still trembling near the bar, where Jack was glaring angrily at Bran.

Then she looked at Bookkeeper, now looking calm and thoughtful... then shaking her head, as if in a fog. She looked at the smiling man right next to her, and how Bran grunted and started to relax. Ellen realized Bookkeeper was probably resisting it thanks to the mental resistance effect, but it must be a powerful Ability if it was piercing the resistance. She could also see Theodore scowling and rising to his feet. Of course the mage could tell when an Ability was being used, she thought to herself.

She really didn't want to owe that man a favor, though. He was generally unpleasant, even if he was honest enough in his own way. No doubt he would put a stop to this, but she'd rather resolve it herself. Casually, Ellen reached up and patted the smiling man on his shoulder. Then she grasped him by the back of the head, pivoted her hips, and used her full weight to shove him downward violently into the table.

He didn't have the time to react before the sharp crack of his nose and skull slammed against the solid wood, leaving a bloody streak and a groan of pain in the wake of his fall to the floor.

"BLOODY SKIES!" The scarred woman cried out, leaping to her feet. Bran stumbled back, the large man briefly confused by the violent act, while the other two adventurers leapt to their feet, fumbling for their weapons.

"Mind-altering Abilities are not to be used here," Ellen said in a low, almost growling tone. She could feel the anger bubbling up within, but she quickly shoved it down, thanking herself for picking Control Shift early on. She narrowed her eyes, then took a deep breath—inhaling the fear and confusion filling the room—before crossing her arms.

"Leave. Now," she said. This time she did growl despite herself. To her left, she saw Bookkeeper blinking, shaking off the effect with a growing frown. Others in the room were toppling chairs as they stood up, anticipating a fight, but halting the moment they heard what had happened. What Ellen had said was a pretty serious allegation. Abilities like that were supposed to be restricted, though it wouldn't be the first time adventurers had picked up a restricted Ability just to make their lives easier.

From the looks of confusion and anger directed at the now-unconscious man, Ellen wasn't even sure that he'd told his party what he'd been doing. Maybe they were innocent. Maybe not. Maybe only some of them were. Ellen twitched as she heard the front door open, several figures shuffling in. She didn't even have to look to know who they were, she already knew the situation had just gotten much, much more complicated. She didn't care, because Bran was finally starting to respond.

"You can't say that and hit my friend!" he bellowed, some of his drunkenness swept away by the battle rage that started to rise. It was a simple statement, but Ellen could at least relate to it. She felt kind of sorry for the guy.

"I suggest you not do what you're about to do, sir. Vil, find us a table, please?" The voice came from the front, and Ellen didn't have to look. She answered automatically, "There's one next to Theodore that fits all four of you, A-P." Nobody in the room moved as they watched Fighter, Scout, Acolyte, and Scholar file toward the table, still grimy from their latest delve into the dungeon.