Monroe

Chapter Two Hundred and Seventy-Two. Room and board.

"Professor Kol'Geith," Yorrick said warmly as he entered the classroom, "it's always a pleasure to see you, however, I must again protest your use of my title when I'm out of uniform." Yorrick's tone was teasing, and Ed could tell the two were either old acquaintances or close friends.

"Yes, of course," Professor Kol'Geith smirked, then turned back to her class. "Please review the chapter and complete the exercises," she instructed, then moved around her desk to offer her hand to Ed, which he duly shook. "I'm Harper Kol'Geith, the titular head of House Kol'Geith, and a Professor of Dungeon Creation and Curation Studies here at the Warlocks Guild," she smiled at him.

"Ed Hanson, Secretary of Defense for the United States of America," Ed replied.

Harper exchanged a complicated look with Yorrick where they seemed to communicate volumes in a mere fraction of a second before her gaze returned to Ed. "Welcome to the Warlocks Guild, Mr. Secretary," she continued to smile. "Although if I know Yorrick, he's already welcomed you, still, as the current ranking member, it falls to me." She cast a sidelong smirk at Yorrick.

"I'm sure you're wondering about the conditions the people who've taken up the Empire's offer are living in," she began, then waved a hand towards the students, almost none of whom were making even the barest pretense of studying. "We've offered to allow anyone who desires the opportunity to audit our classes," she smirked again, an expression that suited her features rather well. "Dungeon Creation and Curation is not a class which can be audited, not if someone is to learn properly, so these brave souls are attempting the full curriculum."

"I agree," Ed replied, "in our very brief experiences, we've discovered that building and maintaining Dungeons is significantlymore difficult than we expected."

Harper's eyes brightened, but before she could respond, Yorrick chimed in. "You were exposed to the Dungeon that was built and Curated by Bob, which set a rather unrealistically high standard," he stated.

"Yes, Mr. Whitman, I've heard quite a bit about him," Harper's eyes were nearly glowing, "will he be joining us?"

"I'm afraid not," Ed shook his head, "he's currently engaged in his own projects, and while our country is extremely grateful for everything he's done, he doesn't hold a position in our government."

"That's a shame," it was Harper's turn to shake her head. "On both counts. I was rather looking forward to meeting him. Also, you shouldn't let a talent like him get away," she grinned, "give him an honorary position in your government, and then slowly load him up with privileges and responsibilities."

"I'm afraid that ship has likely sailed," Ed replied sadly.

"Well, be that as it may, as you can see, these students are clean, well-fed, and gainfully occupied," Harper gestured to the class again.

"Might I have a word with them?" Ed asked.

"Of course," Harper smiled sharply, "Yorrick and I will catch up in the hallway."

Ed nodded and watched them leave, shutting the door behind them.

He turned to the class. "How many of you are from the U.S.?" He asked.

"Most of us," a young woman at the front replied. "The Professor has her classes scheduled by language, she says it's too much of a hassle to think in more than two languages at once."

"Not all of us are yanks," A young man added with a broad grin. He gestured to another young man and a young woman beside him. "Three Australians here, and if you can get Jamie's headphones out, he'll tell anyone who cares to ask that he's English."

"And how has your experience working with the Empire been?" Ed asked.

The students looked at each other, then the young woman at the front answered. "Awesome, actually," she replied. "I mean, I'd like to not share a huge dorm room with a bunch of guys, but the place is clean, the food is good, and we're learning a ton."

"Strewth," The Australian added. "They're offering Affinity Crystals for five thousand crystals each, but if you don't have the crystals up front, you can get a loan."

"The terms of which aren't completely awful," the young woman in the front said. "Ten percent interest for the first year, twenty for the second, and if you haven't paid it back by the end of the third, you get stuck as an indentured delver until you do."

"Honestly, though, I have mates who just jumped in, and they're already up a couple of hundred crystals," the Australian explained. "I know we're getting a bargain, free room and board with a minimal tax on the crystals we pull, but still, I think you'd have to fuck up proper to end up an indenture."

"Are they exerting any pressure on you to accept Divine Blessings from their Pantheon?" Ed asked.

The students exchanged looks of confusion before the Australian answered for them. "Naw, they showed us the church, but we haven't seen anyone from it since. Here at the Warlocks Guild, they seem a lot more interested in magic than religion."

"Not to put too fine a point on it, but aren't there any people from Earth who are a bit... older?" Ed asked.

"The Geezers are in another class," the young woman at the front replied, then clasped her hand over her mouth as she flushed, no doubt realizing that Ed would definitely qualify as a geezer.

"Right then," Ed looked over the group. "I'll be around for a few days, so if you have any concerns or you need to be pulled out, let me know."

A murmur of assent followed him as he walked to the door and opened it. Walking through, he found Yorrick and Harper a few doors down, chatting amicably.

"Now that you're gone, they should settle down and see to their work," Harper said, her voice strongly implying that if they didn't do so, they'd regret the outcome.

"Could I see their accommodations?" Ed asked.

"Of course," Yorrick agreed, "that was the next stop on the tour, after which Professor Kol'Geith will no doubt be eager to show you the Dungeons the people from Earth are delving."

The barracks were built into the inner wall that separated the city from the palace. It was obvious to Ed that they were barracks. Rows of bunk beds separated by dressers, with a bureau at the end. The barracks they visited first had been empty, but the second has about half full. The occupants congregated at the end of the bunks in small groups.

"We run two twelve-hour shifts," Yorrick explained. "We wake them up and get them moving at the same time the others are coming in, which helps. They have an hour to get themselves together, then we move them to the cafeteria, which lets the group coming in from the opposing shift start to settle down to sleep."

They strolled through the barracks as they talked, and from the scraps of conversation Ed overheard, most of the people in these barracks were Indian. He hadn't wanted to judge anyone based on their skin tone or clothing, but the language cinched it.

"Once everyone has breakfast and has packed a lunch, we go over the daily Dungeon assignments, make sure the groups are as balanced as we can make them, and then take them to the Dungeon," Yorrick continued. "By the time we get there, an hour has passed, and they're in the Dungeon for their eight-hour delve. Once they come out, we take them to the cafeteria for dinner, debrief them, then it's back to the barracks to wind down before bed."

"That sounds efficient," Ed replied.

"It should, it's the basic routine we have new members of the Crimson Bulwark, and it's worked quite well for the past few millennia," Yorrick grinned.

The problem with Yorrick, hell, the problem with everyone he'd met from the Empire so far, was that they seemed so normal. It was all too easy to forget that Yorrick was almost eight hundred years old and level eighty-one. Back in Greenwold, the King, and to a lesser extent Thidwell, had a manner about them that practically screamed to the world that they were powerful. Even Annisa had it, although hers was a more gentle pressure.

The far end of the barracks had a door on the opposite wall of the hallway that stretched out in both directions.

"Showers are through that door," Yorrick nodded to it as they turned left. "You can check them out if you'd like, but they're nothing special, even by Earth standards."

"Are they occupied?" Ed asked, reaching for the handle.

"Probably," Yorrick shrugged.

Ed pulled his hand back. "Maybe later."

"Stars and stones, with all the smut you produce, you're still all such prudes," Harper chuckled.

"It did take a few days for everyone to get used to the idea that showering wasn't some sort of forbidden sensual act," Yorrick agreed.

"After seeing everyone covered in blood and viscera, the process of cleaning it off does tend to drain any erotic idealization," Harper grinned.

"Still have a few shy ones, but they'll get over it eventually." Yorrick finished as they began to walk down the hallway.

Ed put that out of his mind for now. Coed showers were hardly new, just not normal in the U.S.

"One of the cafeterias is just ahead, so we can eat lunch before we head to the Dungeons, assuming Professor Kol'Geith will join us?" Yorrick asked.

"How could refuse an invitation from the High Seat of the Warlocks Guild himself?" Harper replied.

Ed was counting the doors as they walked. "There isn't any spatial magic involved here," he murmured.

"No, there isn't," Yorrick agreed. "The wall, and the structures within, predate almost all of the other construction in Karce. The sad truth is that when it was built, we could only dream of needing more room than what it provided."

Ed could only nod at that. He was well aware that history had a tendency to shift over the years as records were rewritten and translated, with scholars putting their own bias into the finished product. It would be foolish to take the history of the Empire without a grain of salt, however, it was also worth noting that rather than hundreds of generations separating people from events, it could be as little as a dozen. It was something to consider.

Yorrick guided him into a mess hall. Long tables were laid out in rows, with an even longer counter at the front of the room.

"They should be shutting it down, so let's grab our plates quickly," Yorrick said.

Ed followed his example, picking up a wooden tray and accepting a slab of steak, a heap of noodles, and some sort of gravy, all of which were provided in porcelain bowls. There was a selection of metal flatware at the end of the counter.

"Korvine steaks," Harper's voice contained a hint of delight.

"They always serve Korvine on Wednesday," Yorrick chided, "you know that."

"How often to do I have time to leave the Guild and come to the Bulwark for a meal?" Harper replied. "We really ought to get Korvine at the guild. You know," her voice turned sweet, "as the High Seat of the Warlocks Guild, you might be able to make that happen." Ed walked ahead of them to a table.

"Talk to your students," Yorrick suggested. "You know the rules as well as I do."

"What rule would that be?" Ed asked as he sat down at the table, unable to restrain his curiosity.

"You keep what you kill," Yorrick sat down across from him. "Monsters first and foremost. Because Korvines are only found on the tenth and fifteenth floors of two Dungeons, it's normally brought out by the Crimson Bulwark's recruits. As they live in the barracks, they sell it to the quartermaster, who in turn, then supplies it to the cafeteria, which means that the Warlocks Guild seldom enjoys Korvine steaks." He glanced at Harper, who had taken the seat next to him. "Although, if one were particularly enamored with Korvine, one could purchase steaks directly from the quartermaster. One could even purchase a great many of them, placing them in stasis so that one could enjoy a Korvine steak whenever one wanted."

Harper growled at Yorrick, the effect somewhat spoiled by the huge bite of gravy-covered steak she was attempting to wedge into her mouth.

He cut a small piece from his steak, and dipped it in the gravy, then popped it in his mouth. His eyes went wide as the flavors flooded his tastebuds.

"Korvine is rather good," Yorrick grinned.

Ed could only nod as he chewed. He'd eaten at more five-star restaurants than he could easily name. It was part and parcel of being a high-ranking member of the United States Government. The White House prided itself on having the finest chefs, and they were, but sometimes it was the ingredients that made the meal, and at that moment, Ed knew that those chefs would have stormed a Dungeon with kitchen knives to get their hands on a Korvine steak. He closed his eyes and let himself experience the tastes.

It was tender and moist, but it retained its structure, providing that perfect feeling of needing to chew it just the right number of times. The gravy was gray in color with specs of black and brown in it, and it proved to be cream-based, providing a slightly bitter-sweet contrast to the succulent meat. Opening his eyes, he saw Yorrick's brilliant smile.

Ed saw Harper plowing through her meal with what he could only call admirable enthusiasm. He noticed that after each bite of steak, she stabbed her fork into the bowl of noodles, twirled them for a moment, then dipped them in the gravy.

Following suit, he found that the noodles weren't anything special, flavor-wise. They went well with the bitter-sweet gravy, and he found that the aftertaste of the gravy had disappeared along with the noodles.

"The gravy's flavor can sort of build-up," Harper explained, wiping her mouth with a delicate grace opposed to the manner in which she'd eaten. "The noodles keep it at the proper level."

Ed nodded, eating his meal with decorum. Yorrick followed suit while Harper stood up from the table and moved with purpose back up the counter, returning with a platter containing three more meals.

"What?" She asked defensively in response to the sideways glance Yorrick had directed at her. "I'm hungry."

Ed slowed his meal to watch in awe as the woman, who might have tipped the scales at a hundred and twenty-five pounds, and definitely couldn't reach the top shelf of the cabinets, plowed through what had to be another six pounds of steak.

"It's polite of you not to mention," Harper said as she was wiping her mouth, "but yes, that was quite a bit of food for someone as petite as myself," she glared at Yorrick, who held up his hands defensively and mimed spelling his mouth shut. "I often work long hours, and I don't always have time to eat. Keeping food in stasis in my inventory helps, but I've been known to forget to resupply. I have a divine blessing from Vorax that allows me to eat up to my own body weight and then burn the energy off gradually."

She grinned and stood up from the table, stretching lithely. "The trick is," she continued, "that I have to burn the energy off within nine days, or my body has to absorb the extra calories."

"And it wouldn't do to ruin that lovely figure," Yorrick added, breaking his short-lived vow of silence.

"It wouldn't, would it?" She winked at Yorrick, whose grin became almost predatory.

Ed was beginning to suspect that the two of them had a more than casual relationship.

"Nine days," he murmured to himself. That was an oddly specific yet illogical number. Unless you took the system into account, of course. In which case, requiring a number of days equal to your tier made a sort of sense.

"You are a clever one," Harper observed. "Yes, the number of days is equal to the tier of the person with the blessing."

Ed blinked, then narrowed his eyes. He knew that telepathy was a skill available through the system, and he'd thanked whatever gods were listening that no one had gotten the bright idea to start reading minds back home.

"I'm not using magic to read your mind," she reassured him with a grin, "I'm just rather adept at reading people's body language and facial expressions. Yours practically screamed at me."

"Like I'd know the difference," Ed muttered with a sigh. "So you're tier nine as well?"

"It's hardly a secret," Harper replied, still smiling. "As the Head of House Kol'Geith, it's practically a requirement, although we have a had particularly talented tier eight people take the seat."

"While it's not polite to ask a lady her age, in either of our worlds," Yorrick smiled, "I'll tell you that Harper and I are close to the same age."

"He's older," Harper added as they made their way out of the cafeteria. Her grin turned predatory for a moment. "I've always preferred older men," she smirked.