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Chapter 9 - Dorothy’s Week 4 - Speaking to the Manager

More than difficult employees, adventurers who didn't respect her, and even property damage or failing to meet her quotas, there was one thing Dorothy disliked about her job above anything else. Frustrating clients. Many people came to the Guild looking for help of all sorts. A lot of it boiled down to 'go here and kill this' or 'go there and get me that', but just as many came to Dorothy's doorstep not knowing the full extent of what services her adventurers could actually provide.

Occasionally noblemen would forget themselves and ask for political help, or business owners would seek aid to put down their rivals. Dorothy even dealt with a few people who thought that you could hire an adventurer as a prostitute before. However, Dorothy didn't mind these misguided souls so long as they listened to reason.

It was the people coming in looking like they expected the Realm to be offered to them on a silver platter that bothered her the most. You could always tell these types at a glance- Dorothy learned that years and years ago during her time as an Assistant Guild Mistress. They had a certain air about them that was never difficult to discern.

The woman sitting across the table in front of Dorothy was one such person.

Carenne Ingvald was the wife of the largest logging camp in Cransmere’s foreman, a fact she habitually made everyone aware of only seconds after making her acquaintance. Though only in her mid-forties, the beak-nosed, makeup-adorned, frizzy red-haired woman appeared like she was in her late fifties trying to look as if she were in her early thirties. Her beautiful jade dress was ill-befitting the summer heat, necessitating an extravagant fan she waved at her face like nobody's business.

Today, she barged in looking for help, and Dorothy had brought Carenne back to the records room so she could listen to her no doubt important request in private. From how she acted, Dorothy could only assume the safety of the entire Realm was at stake.

"Before we begin, can I get you anything? My receptionist can bring us tea, coffee, or anything else. Just say the word, Mrs. Ingvald- the Guild is here to serve." Dorothy smiled a thin smile.

She was nothing if not professional and wouldn't show the prospective client anything but respect so long as the promise of gold was on the table. It would be a challenge, as she was as tired and stressed as ever, but Dorothy would rise to meet it.

"No, no. That's quite alright." Carenne spoke in a nasally voice that was only amplified by her insistent fanning. "I've no time for such things, busy and important person as I am! Why it's hard to believe I found the time to stop by today at all!"

Dorothy fought back her urge to call it a day then and there. Why did people like her insist on presenting themselves as unlikeable as quickly as possible? She wondered how a decent, reasonable man like Bruce Ingvald wound up married to a high-strung harpy like this. If it weren't for him and his working relationship with the Guild, Dorothy might not have ingratiated herself as much as she was planning to.

"Of course, I won't waste more of your time than necessary. If you'd like, we can skip the pleasantries, and you can jump straight into telling me what I can do for you."

Mrs. Ingvald turned her nose up at the Guild Mistress and smiled. "Marvelous. Much too many people these days waste their time on frivolous things, which I just can't abide by. Certainly not when it's my time being wasted."

"Good. Excellent, yes, yes, yes..." Dorothy readied her clipboard and pen, taking the excuse to stop staring at this infuriating woman. "Go on, then."

"I'm here for the same reason as anyone else," she stated matter-of-factly. "I require assistance, you see... my next-door neighbors are housing a monster on their premises."

"Oh," Dorothy forced herself to look back up and raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Yes, those unruly, bushy-bearded immigrants... I've no idea how things work in Hal Moldihr, but here in Karnalle, people are expected to show common decency! This beast of theirs keeps burrowing under our fence and tearing up my beloved garden! Do you know how much time I've spent ordering the servants around until the flower beds were perfect, let alone how long it took them to grow a single thing of worth here in Cransmere? All that hard work of mine was for nothing, and all because some insolent squats bought the house next to mine..."

Dorothy blinked and froze her note-taking. Alright. Casual racism was yet another of this personable woman's charming characteristics, apparently. Cool. Putting aside Carenne's use of the s-word, Dorothy needed to ensure there wasn't an actual registerable quest hidden beneath the bigotry.

"Okay, so... you're saying your neighbors are keeping a monster? As in the sort of creature that would take an adventurer to defeat?"

"Oh yes, assuredly," Mrs. Ingvald looked away and continued to fan her face, an extra layer of sweat manifesting midsentence.

"If that's the case, then... it doesn't sound good. Depending on the type of monster we're talking about, you could get in serious trouble for not having the right permits- especially if it's something you're not legally allowed to keep as a pet. However, this isn't the kind of problem the Guild can solve for you. Not without first reporting it to the barony for further inspection."

"No, I've already tried that," the woman huffed in frustration. "They sent some knights over, inspected the place, then refused to do anything! You people are the only hope my beloved garden has for survival!"

"Sure," Dorothy nodded along casually. She didn't like the sound of this but pressed forward regardless. "Give me a description of the monster, then. If you want anything to come from this, the more detail, the better."

Mrs. Ingvald narrowed her eyes and impatiently tapped her foot on the floor. "Didn't I tell you how much I hated wasting my time? It would really just be easier if I paid you a sum now, and you sent someone over to kill the damn thing."

"Mrs. Ingvald, I'm afraid that's not how this works."

"Well, why the bloody hell isn't it?" Her voice was harsher, losing what little friendliness it pretended to have.

"Putting aside the whole legal issue, I can't in good faith send an adventurer out to kill something without knowing more about what they'd be going up against. If you refuse to even tell me the most basic details of the monster-"

"And here I thought the Guild was supposed to solve people's problems, not cause more of them," the woman laughed like she was the most brilliant and cleverest mind in all of Karnalle.

"If you're not going to take this seriously, then-"

"You'll what? Need I remind you who I am? Who my husband is?"

Dorothy bit back her urge to tell this woman that the only reason she hadn't been kicked out of the Guild yet was because she knew who her husband was. Dorothy didn't expect anything to come of this, but to make sure she covered absolutely every angle, she decided to take a different approach. Her mistake was treating this woman like an average person capable of polite conversation. What she should've done was speak a language Carenne understood.

"Of course not- you're only one of the richest women in town, I'm sure." Dorothy gave Mrs. Ingvald a fake smile that anyone who wasn't absorbed in their narcissism could've seen through. Instead, she believed the Guild Mistress to be sincere. "I want to help you. I really do, but you have to help me there. If there really is a dreadful beast out there capable of filling someone like you with concern, then I can only imagine what it must be like!"

The appeal to Carenne's ego paid off with massive dividends, precisely as Dorothy figured. The prospective client was overwhelmed by the sudden respect she was being shown, which manifested through a somehow even smugger smile.

"Well, if you put it that way... I suppose I have no other choice!" The older woman laughed, convinced at this point that sharing details on the target was her own idea. "The beast in question is truly a monster, plain and simple. For sure. No doubts about it. It walks on four legs at any given time, with a long, pronounced jaw possessing yellowed teeth sharp as knives and claws even sharper! In the dead of night, its eyes glow and reflect light as it howls at the moon, sometimes even chasing after my beloved little kitties! Yes, indeed... it's a menace to our neighborhood, and it must be exterminated like the pest it is!"

Dorothy didn't even bother taking any notes. She regarded Mrs. Ingvald with cold and lifeless eyes, wishing she could be curled up in her room forever and ever right about now. "Right... and how big is this monster if I might ask?"

She fanned herself faster, again refusing to me to Dorothy's eyes. "How big is it? I hardly see how that would be relevant-"

"It's relevant because what you described doesn't sound like a monster. It sounds more like you're talking about your neighbor's dog." Dorothy threw the accusation out, not even caring anymore about how the prospective client might react.

"Dog?! Of course not. That would be outrageous!" Mrs. Ingvald laughed. "I'm sure it's at least part Direwolf. You should see the thing. It comes up to the size of my knee!"

"Lots of dogs are that big," Dorothy pointed out like she was talking to a small child.

The wealthy woman was suddenly acting evasive. No wonder the authorities wouldn't help her with her problem. It was just some rich chick acting like an entitled cunt, just as Dorothy thought was the case.

"So... you're asking us to kill their pet, yes?"

"I'm asking you to put down their monster! There's a significant distinction between the two!"

"If you say so," Dorothy pinched the bridge of her nose in utter disbelief at what she was about to say. "Regardless, under no circumstances can I authorize an adventurer to break into someone's private property and kill their dog."

"Well... not officially, I'm sure..." Mrs. Ingvald dropped the pretenses and performed an unsubtle wink. "If you take care of this for me, then I'll be sure to put in a good word with my husband, and you'll be paid handsomely!"

Dorothy sat idle in her wooden chair, stunned into silence for more than a few seconds. It wasn't that she was considering the offer, only marveling at the fact that such disgusting people existed in this world. Worse, that she had to cater to them with fake smiles, false niceties, and empty platitudes so that she didn't lose their future business. She wanted nothing more than to kick Carenne Ingvald out of her Guild for being a racist piece of shit, but she couldn't. This was just another day on the job.

"I'm sorry," Dorothy firmly shook her head. "But I don't accept bribes." The Guild needed money, but not enough to make her condemn an innocent little dog to death and betray her principles.

A more sensible person might've seen the error of their ways at this point, but Mrs. Ingvald wasn't one of those. She stood up from the chair, huffing and stomping her heel into the ground. "Unbelievable, you worthless wretch! My husband will be hearing about this. Mark my words!"

"Yes, please. If you'd like to send him in to speak with me, I'm sure we can come to an understanding..." Dorothy told the woman mainly to expedite the process of getting her the fuck out of her Guild.

"You'll be lucky if you ever get work from him again! Hmph!" Carenne stormed off, the door slamming shut behind her.

"Yeah? Well, he and his lumberjacks can go ahead and fucking die out there without us to babysit them, you shriveled old prune..." Dorothy mumbled to herself.

The idea that Bruce Ingvald could simply avoid working with the Guild from now on just because his wife told him not to was comical. He was only the foreman of one of the four logging camps, and the camps themselves were owned by House Brimley. As rich as he might've been, Bruce was only a middleman for the barony. A middleman Dorothy didn't want to start trouble with out of mutual respect, sure, but a middleman all the same. If there was a problem in the woods keeping the camps from operating at peak efficiency, the nobility would ensure the Guild took care of it regardless of what some foreman's wife had to say about it.

Despite that, the thought of losing potential contracts alone was enough to depress the stressed Guild Mistress. After her exhausting encounter, she collapsed against the table. This had been a slow week thus far for landing new quests. The quest board looked scarcer by the day, and earlier, a few adventurers had personally complained to her about it. There would be unrest if she didn't get into gear and find some lucrative new contracts.

Dorothy grimaced as it became apparent what she needed to do. She'd need to put out some feelers, and she'd need to do it as soon as possible. This meant paying some of Cransmere's nobles a house visit, perhaps even attending one of their little social events like Guild Masters were supposed to. Mingling with the upper crust of society was part of her job description, and they even trained Dorothy for it in the Association Academy.

Until now, there was rarely a need to do so. Cransmere was an overly active region thanks to the Gnarled Woods always causing trouble in some form or another. Most jobs came straight to Dorothy without having to seek them out, but she had no other choice in times like these.

Never much of a social butterfly, Dorothy was first a quiet farm girl who always had her nose in a book and then a meek Academy student with reasonably above-average grades. She wasn't personable, possessing neither the genteel charm of her rural farmer father nor her city-born mother's rough and tough tenacity. The thought of getting out there and networking brought a new pit of despair to her stomach. Dorothy wanted to stay where she was. Forever, if she could help it.

Interrupting this new nihilistic development was Tammy, who opened the door and stepped through. "So, did that go as bad as it looked like it was going to, or what?"

"She wanted us to kill her neighbor's dog," Dorothy exhaled.

"Yeah, she looked like the kind of person who would want something like that."

"She did, didn't she? You can always tell..." Dorothy grumbled, sinking further into the table. "Gods, I don't know how I'm supposed to keep up. Tammy, I ask so little of you... could you do me this one favor and just... finish me off already? Please? It wouldn't take much. I'm already so tired... so very, very tired..."

"Sorry, boss," Tammy shook her head. "I'm still expecting to squeeze more entertainment from you in the coming years. Can't have you offing yourself after one shitty client who rubbed you the wrong way."

Dorothy mimicked genuine disappointment, uttering a series of performative sobs before giving up. "You won't do any meaningful work, you won't end my suffering when I ask you to, Tammy... remind me why it is even I keep you around?"

"Because my esteemed father pays you every month to babysit me under the thin pretense of employment so that he can at least lie and tell all of the other nobles how his daughter is pursuing a prestigious career in the Association of Adventurers. You know, instead of sitting in my room all day doing nothing but staring at the ceiling."

"Oh yes," Dorothy sighed again. "I'd almost forgotten. I wish I could lay in bed all day staring at my ceiling..."

"It was nice for a while," Tammy admitted. "But it got pretty old after a couple of years."

"Right, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make light of your-"

"It's cool," Tammy approached the table and leaned over it. "I'm better now. I can even sometimes do paperwork, occasionally." It was hard to tell whether or not that was sarcastic, but Dorothy knew better and assumed it was genuine.

"I know," she forced herself to smile at her strange companion. "That esteemed father of yours wouldn't happen to need any of his neighbor's pets murdered, would he? Quest board looking as it is, I might have to get desperate."

"I'll have to ask him the next time he acknowledges my existence. Might be a while. I could ask my brother, though?"

"Might as well..." Dorothy sat upright and heaved her shoulders.

"Is there anything else I can do to make your life easier in the short term, boss? Preferably something my limited mental capacities and attention span are capable of?"

"Coffee," the Guild Mistress mumbled under her breath. "The strongest we've got. I'll be out for the rest of the afternoon and possibly the evening, too..."

"Got yourself a hot date?" Tammy teased.

"Gods, no... I'm going to try and do something about the quest board's sorry state. You know, ask around. See if any rich people need any help. That's why I need you to get me something that looks like I'm not about to fall over."

Tammy eyed Dorothy up and down and was skeptical of what she saw. "I don't think there's enough coffee in all of Cransmere to help you with that, but I'll see what I can do."