The world dissolved and the cavern was replaced with the familiar sight of an illustrated tunnel illuminated by melancholic glowbugs. Mina looked around and wrinkled her nose at the bright and merry paintings on the walls. A kobold scribbling a penis (what else?) saw the newcomers and fled screaming around a corner. Shame. Hilda wanted to brain the little bugger for defacing Philly’s art and because she was in a bad mood and it would make her feel better.

“Those things…” Hilda said after her heart stopped thudding and she was reasonably sure she could speak without vomiting. “They aren’t really lizardmen, are they?”

“No…” the drow said without her usual posh accent. She looked shaken herself, despite all her attempts to radiate cold aloofness. “They’re just possessing them because of the lizardmen’s high Constitution scores and low Wisdom saving throws.”

“What are they, really?”

“Some things are too dark even for dark elves to consider. Just be happy you got the job.” The drow closed her eyes, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Just be happy you’re alive.”

“I’m very happy…”Hilda said tiredly. After a few moments of awkward silence she added, “Um, do you want to come in for a cup of tea?”

***

Hilda’s house was constructed with dwarfs in mind, so the three women sat outside, which was a deceptive term since outside was still inside a cavern. Then again, the tunnel was outside of the cavern, so… Never mind.

Hilda placed a tray with a wine goblet for the drow, who chilled it with a ray of frost before sniffing it, a mug of ale for herself, and some crunchy mushroom snacks she prepared herself, mostly to show off. For Philly, she brought a beaker with the foul stuff the mushrooms secreted when Hilda was pressing them. The ghoul loved the stuff. She loved anything that smelled like it was run over by a horse on a hot summer night and left to fester for a week.

The drow sat primly on the chair Hilda dragged out for her, pretending like she didn’t look like a grown up sitting on a first grader’s tea party. Philly squatted, like she always did. Hilda really wanted to get rid of this drow, but she felt it might hurt her business. If a few minutes of awkward small talk would save her from another visit to that nightmarish cavern with its fiendish lizardmen, petrified heroes and slithering lawyers, it was a price she’d pay gladly.

“So,” Hilda was saying, “I’m going to visit my mom in, um, the place she lives in, and, um, discreetly ask around about who sells the cheapest obsidian. I’ll get a few offers, um, maybe I’ll talk to the stone giants too. I think they also mine it. If I meet any merchants along the way, I can talk to them too,” Hilda swallowed. “But… How do I get all these certificates and papers? Can’t I just bring a sample to the buyer and if he okays it, bring him the rest?”

“Oh, you’re so naive!” The drow cried out. “The market is positively teeming with scammers and bad faith actors. This is the underground, my dear! That is why even a chaotic buyer requires all this verification. Do you trust the buyer?”

“Um… not especially…”

“So why would he trust you? All these documents exist to make it more difficult for the parties to cheat each other. Now, since there are at least five parties between the buyer and the seller--”

“At least?”

“Well, of course, dear. Do you think you’ll be able to purchase obsidian straight from the miner?”

“I was hoping--”

“Miners don’t go about selling minerals, dear. They are too busy mining. In the best case, you’ll purchase from the miner’s reseller, but more likely you’ll deal with an agent employed by the reseller, or maybe a free agent in the employment of--”

“And each of them will want a commission?” Hilda asked glumly, seeing her profit decrease with each added degree of separation.

“Of course! No one works out of the kindness of their heart.”

“You don’t know paladins.”

“You’re a paladin.”

“Fair enough…” You don’t know barbarians, Hilda thought as she pictured Medvak, whom she had to beg to receive payment for some high quality work he did for her a few months ago.

Hilda sighed and took a long swig from her mug. “So how do I get all these certificates? How can I tell if they’re real or not? I know dwarfs. I don’t know elves or humans well enough to understand their legalese.”

Mina sunk back into her tiny chair, gasping as she almost toppled over and spilling a bit of wine in the process. After this, however, she looked very dignified as she considered the subject. “Well, I can’t accompany you to the surface and we can’t communicate magically due to, um, reasons which are not currently important. Any item I may give you will disintegrate in the sun… Hmmm…”

Philly put down her disgusting beaker, which she was emptying with great big gulps that made her gorge go up and down unnaturally. “Where did you learn about all these documents?”

“I didn’t, my familiar takes care of this stuff. They are frightfully good at this sort of thing, like a legal specialist you can fit in your purse…”

The ghoul tilted her head thoughtfully. “Can you lend your familiar to Hilda?”

“Don’t be preposterous!” the drow glared at the ghoul. “A familiar is part of a spell caster’s very soul! The mere idea that I’l, I’ll--”

“So I guess Hilda will have to summon a familiar…” Philly said dreamily and went back to slurping her garbage juice.

Hilda rolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly, I’m a paladin, not a witch.”

“No, no,” the drow gingerly placed her goblet on the table. “The ghoul’s suggestion is not as stupid as it sounds, though it was phrased in a profoundly stupid way; any spellcaster may summon a familiar. In your case this may be a steed or a talking weapon or something of the sort…”

“Or a sexy angel.” Philly suggested.

“Huh,” Hilda said thoughtfully, “I didn’t know I could do this…”

“It is dreadful how the youth of today never pays attention in class…” The drow lamented.

Hilda just shook her head. She had no energy to argue with this kid. “Fine, I’ll research the matter in my temple. If you’re right then we have all corners covered, if not,” Hilda sighed at the thought of another expense, “I suppose I could hire a lawyer. Next time we speak, I’ll have a sample of obsidian and a big stack of signed papers.”

“And a cute familiar!” Philly added cheerfully.

Hilda rolled her eyes. With her luck, it will be some sanctimonious badger or telepathic hammer that will preach to her incessantly about what a bad dwarf she was. She didn’t need a familiar for that. She already had the rest of her species…

****

After making sure all the traps were in order and that Philly remembered their locations well enough to avoid wandering into them (hey, traps are expansive!), Hilda was ready to embark on her first visit home since she left for the dungeon. Sadly, this required one more unpleasant chore; talking to Saga, her mother; a task both pricey and unpleasant.

Naturally, a respected matron such as Saga would not go skipping through a fetid swamp just to say “hi” to one of her daughters. She had a household as big and deadly as any dungeon to run and her absence would result in chaos. However, there were other means of communication.

During her time in the dungeon, Hilda had been in contact with several of her sisters, especially Brook and Bombina. She’d been in very close contact with Gloin. She had also encountered a party of clerics in the forest. The bunch of beards with dwarfs attached to them oggled her for a while then called her a slut because her hair was unbraided. Hilda hoped a dragon ate them.

Every one of these dwarves would have been happy to deliver a message to Hilda’s mother. Everyone wanted to be noticed by clan Hagamid, of which Saga was the matriarch. Then again, Hilda’s mother could have written as well. It was no secret that Hilda occasionally entertained dwarf guests in her subterranean domain. Even if it was, there were very few secrets Saga wasn’t privy to.

The truth was that Hilda simply didn’t have the energy to communicate with her mother. The two women loved each other dearly… but in small doses. As her name suggested, every conversation with Hilda’s mother was indeed a saga, usually of the kind in which a very bad dwarf named Hilda did everything wrong. And yes, this could be provided in written form as well. Beautiful prose and calligraphy too. Saga was a woman of many talents. Making her daughter happy wasn’t one of them.

Hilda sighed. There was no way to visit the city without her mother knowing. The less time she gave her mother to prepare for the visit, the more unflattering chapters would be added to the saga of Hilda and the less help Hilda would receive with her business venture.

“Hey!” Philly barked joyfully, breaking Hilda’s gloomy train of thought. “You forgot to pack your bedroll.” The ghoul was naked again, except for a pouch hanging from a leather stripe slung over her shoulder. Not only the leather wasn’t cured, it was still dripping blood.

Damn it! Hilda sighed and waddled back to her hut. She had so little stuff and still she managed to forget something. Maybe Gloin really did fuck her brains out…

“Is your mother pretty?” Philly asked through the window as Hilda struggled with the recitant bedroll.

“What do you care?!” Hilda snapped after the bedroll unrolled violently and smacked her on the nose. “You’ll never see her.”

Philly’s ears dropped. “I’m just curious. I’ve seen your sisters Brook and Bombina. They’re cute.”

Hilda sighed. “She looks just like me, only with silver hair and a ton of tattoos. Of all her daughters I’m the one that looks the most like her.”

“Oo!” Philly cried out, her ears perking back, “I really want to see her now!”

“She’ll smite you.” Hilda said as she jumped up and down, trying to flatten the thrice damnable bedroll.

Philly tilted her head thoughtfully. “Maybe I’ll enjoy it?”

Hilda sighed. “May the Goddess preserve you, Philly. You’re hopeless.”

“A hopeless romantic!” the ghoul exclaimed triumphantly and raised her chin proudly.

Hilda kicked the bedroll into the rucksack before it had time to assault her again. She looked around her small bedchamber. Did she forget anything else? Unlikely. One of the advantages of being poor was you didn’t have a lot of stuff to misplace.

“You have fun in the cavern,” she told the ghoul as she started for the door. “Feel free to eat everything and everyone that crawls inside. If you find out what that coppery thing that keeps sneaking about is, let me know. If I even suspect you slept in my bed, I’ll kill you.”

The ghoul laughed. “Don’t say your farewells yet. I’ll walk you to the Djinn. I want to buy something too.” The ghoul’s cheeks flushed a deep purple. “Um… I found a few gold coins inside a dead goblin last week but had to wait before they, um, exited…”

Hilda looked at the ghoul in surprise. “How did you know I was going to the Djinn?”

The ghoul looked at her, equally surprised. “You want to message your mother, no?”

“Yes…” Hilda said suspiciously.

“So the only way to do this is by using a message scroll. Only the Djinn has those. Well, many downstairs monsters have those too, but they don't trade. Though you should really meet--”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Hilda raised a palm to silence the ghoul. “I didn’t say anything about talking to my mother… I didn’t say anything until you suddenly asked me how she looked.”

“You didn’t?” the ghoul frowned. “I was sure you did.”

“Are you reading minds now?” Hilda asked. “Did you gain a level as a ghoul? Is this even possible?”

Philly shrugged. “Come, come, let’s hurry, while it’s still dark outside. I have an idea how you can get a cute familiar right now!”

Hilda’s eyes narrowed. “Are you possessed by something? Did you become smart all of a sudden?”

The ghoul beamed. “I was always smart. Just no one ever listens to me…”

Hilda shrugged. She didn’t have time for it right now. Just in case, she cast detect alignment on the ghoul. Same aura as always. At least she wasn’t possessed. Just unusually insightful…

Hilda shook her head. She’ll worry about that later. Right now she had to give a lot of money to a blue spirit with painted nails to send a magical message to her mother. Feeling tired already, Hilda put on her heavy rucksack and started for the exit. The ghoul skipped in her wake, happily humming a death metal song in Infernal.