67 – Time To Talk
“Okay,” Ari said. “Time to talk.”
She and Claire had returned to base. Ari’s Menagerie were spread out in a circle, facing her as Ari braced to launch into a discussion over what their future held.
Ari ought to get a sofa, or a set of chairs, so they could hold these team meetings in a more comfortable fashion. It was, funny enough, one of the topics they’d be discussing … furnishing the burrow. But not yet. They had a lot to go over. It was time for a planning session, with concrete decisions made, and a battle-plan for how they were tackling the future days, weeks, and months of their life, rather than the abstract, floaty sort of decision-making Ari had been doing, recently.
“First,” Ari said, “I want everyone to give me their honest input. Tell me if I say something you don’t agree with. I know I’m the only one with …” Ari struggled for a way to put it that wasn’t offensive, not that her Menagerie were quick to offend, “with real-life experience,” Ari finally settled on, “and you all are okay with me being the leader and making decisions, but I still want your input. So. Give it, where you have it.” Ari put her hands on her hips and stared down her Menagerie, emphasizing the point.
Like usual, Ari didn’t want to be their absolute leader. This should be a collaborative effort. Also like usual, Ari attempting to drag them into the decision-making process had a variety of perplexed expressions on their faces. They didn’t understand why Ari wasn’t comfortable with bossing them around and determining their future, without their own input. However ‘normal’—it was a problematic word, but what else would she use?—they seemed at times, they had starkly different world views than Ari … and even from each other, sometimes.
Either way, she made sure to get a nod or verbal affirmation from each. If Ari was allowed to boss them around, then she’d do so by telling them they couldn’t let Ari boss them around.
“Let’s start with the dungeon,” Ari said, once she felt comfortable they’d taken her preface seriously. “Which, really, means starting with how we’re handling your introduction to society. There’s no getting around how some of you will be seen eventually. Especially if you’re going to be delving common adventuring zones … or handling errands, or whatever else.”
Ari was fine with being the errand-girl for her Menagerie, but what about when their ranks expanded? Which wasn’t guaranteed, she guessed, but she still expected it would—that five wasn’t a permanent cap. Having her Menagerie be able to head to Molehill’s market and buy what they needed was going to be crucial … especially if they wanted to be successful adventurers in the normal sense. Or, for example, Silvana, who would need supplies over the following weeks, as expansion of the burrow became more than just digging and chiseling.
“But you said it could be a problem,” Claire prompted. “You aren’t sure how they’ll react to us.”
“Exactly.” A statement doubly true for the less-human monstergirls Ari had bumped into, like Cece, the alraune miniboss. Her green skin would’ve been a problem. “But you four, at least, could pass for human, as long as you have disguises. A helmet or hat to tuck away your ears or antennae, and tails could go down your pants leg. Those covered up, I think you’d be fine.” Ari hesitated. “It’d be uncomfortable, but not horribly, right?”
Ari’s eyes naturally went to Lori; she had the most to hide, besides maybe Renna. Silvana and Claire just had their antennae, but the cat- and wolf-girls had both tails and ears.
“It wouldn’t be unbearable,” Lori said. She wrinkled her nose, imagining the scenario: her animal-features crammed into clothing. But she didn’t outright say the obvious: that while it might be tolerable, it wouldn’t be enjoyable.
“Okay. Well. Maybe we can work something better out, but I think that’s how we’ll need to handle it in the short term. So you can go to Molehill, and the dungeon—or be out and about without needing to worry over someone seeing you.” Ari didn’t have a better solution. She clarified something: “For your guys’ adventuring, at least. Mine … I’m still wondering how I’ll handle that.” All her Menagerie needed was a disguise and a backstory, and they’d be able to delve the dungeon with no problem. But Ari? Well, Ari’s combat style was more complicated to hide. And by a little, she meant a lot. “The experience down there is better, and dungeon monsters drop better loot. I’ll want to go down, again. But … sheesh. It’s not super common to bump into other people, but what if it happened?”
“Well,” Renna said, “it’d be a show, I imagine.”
Renna seemed amused at the imagery. And admittedly, Ari agreed; it was funny. Ari tried to imagine if she were a normal adventurer, out exploring the dungeon, and suddenly she bumped into a young woman engaged in, well, Ari’s particular style of combat.
Ari blushed, then said, “Yeah. It would definitely … be that. So how do we handle it?”
“Post guards?” Claire suggested. “Um. But that’s a lot of wasted manpower. Hmm … if only we had an illusionist, or something similar.”
Ari started; she hadn’t even considered that. Claire’s suggestion led to another important topic for today’s discussion, actually.
“Our fifth member,” Ari said. “It should be a mage of some sort. And if she were an illusionist … yeah. She could make it seem like we weren’t fighting my way. That’d be useful.” She frowned. “But it would only work on adventurers a similar or lower level than us. A powerful one would see right through it. Plus, we can only tell someone’s class after they’re accepted into the Menagerie. So it’s a flimsy solution.” Ari paused. Was calling Claire’s idea a ‘flimsy solution’ rude? “Not that it’s not a good idea. A flimsy solution might be the best we have. And I didn’t think of it.”
There was a pause as everyone puzzled over something better. Nobody chimed in.
“Might not be an answer,” Lori said finally, shrugging. “So, risk it. And if you get caught, you get caught. Who cares? It’s not … illegal, is it?”
The word ‘illegal’ was clumsy on her tongue, like she hadn’t considered the word, and its meanings, before.
And maybe Lori was blase enough to not care about something like that, but Ari would really, really prefer to keep her class a secret. It had been mortifying to reveal it to Elise … she couldn’t imagine if all of Molehill knew. And what if news got back to her parents, somehow? Ugh. She’d die on the spot.
“It’s not illegal, I’d figure,” Ari didn’t know what public exposure laws were in the dungeon, to be honest, “but still, ‘just risking it’ … definitely not,” Ari said, shivering at the idea. “Let’s shelve that topic. I might have to wait and hope for a skill … or at a minimum, we’ll go with posting look-outs, or find an illusionist to help us.” Ari paused. “Maybe Elise knows illusions? It’s not her specialty, but she picks things up fast.” Hm. That was an avenue she could pursue.
“So, you plan on getting our fifth soon?” Claire asked.
“Probably tomorrow,” Ari said. “Which, we’ll talk about that in a second. We’re side-tracking. Disguises and backstories … we’ll need to come up with something for each of you. Let’s get the details straightened out.” Concrete decisions—that was the goal.