Ruminy has grown by leaps and bounds over the years, ever since rumors started spreading about the possibility of a tower dungeon in the area.

The standard in dungeons is the "cave" variety, which always leads underground no matter where their entrance would be found: the side of a mountain, a hole in the ground like a well, etc. These are great because of how common they are and since most of them don't have a boss-type monster waiting at the end, they could be reused as training/leveling grounds for low-level adventurers, soldiers, and civilians seeking a way to reach tier two.

That same attraction is also their main flaw, the low level of monsters who spawn within and the lack of good loot, including cards are just that: low leveled. Without cards, these kinds of dungeons are not really worth farming in the higher tiers.

On the opposite end of that scale are "ruin" dungeons. These places almost always have a powerful monster who moved in and become "dungeon master". They effect the ambient mana, causing spontaneous manifestations of loot, traps, and monsters relating to the resident DM's nature and elemental affinity. Everything inside manifests once, however, and after being looted or killed, nothing comes back including the DM.

"Towers" are just about in the middle. The DM could be a monster, though not as powerful as the ones in ruins, or they could be a person. There's usually a high number of floors one must conquer in order to reach the boss at the end, but the manifestations on each floor often reset every one to three days.

Many capitals build as close as they can, sometimes growing around one of the towers if it is big enough. The value of a good tower is actually immeasurable in terms of loot available, monster resources, training, and the attraction of adventurers with their impact on local economy.

Even though the tower near Ruminy was never found, three decent sized cave dungeons in the nearest mountain range and a "garden" dungeon in the forest were discovered and lead directly to the town's prosperity.

Of course, the rumored tower actually belongs to Agmus Makamendius Broadway. There may have been enough ambient mana in the area for it to become a kind of dungeon, but not even in the old man's lowest, drunkest state did he ever consider turning it into one. It was a special place, one that very well could have been considered a national landmark, if certain events hadn't transpired or if anyone actually knew its precise location.

"See you later, River," Fyrg says under her helmet. She had put it on ten minutes before they walked into town. At the same time, Sarna slipped on a black mask with no eye, nose, or mouth holes. "We have to make a report with the guild regarding the PKers and then do something about all their loot."

Wren puts an arm around River's shoulders, barely reaching all the way his broad back. "You sure you don't want any of the cards?"

"What's he gonna do with these shit cards, anyway?" Vine asks, shuffling through them once more. "Y'all got, like, mostly level two, first tier junk. We can maybe get a ring each? And that's being generous."

"Nine gold isn't bad," Wren argues.

Vine shrugs, "More like seven and some grins. The equipment's not bad, worth more used by us than sold, for sure."

Fyrg, taller than the other two, only reaches River's chin with her helmet as she gives him a warm hug.

"Thanks again for jumping in to help us."

Both River and Sarna could tell by the way everyone fought, the trio could have earned a long, drawn out victory. She lost against her instincts to help, and he just wanted to be sure they'd survive.

He returns her hug, patting her on the back and they disengage at the same time. The pair watches the three walk to a large, three story building and blend into the traffic of people going in and out of it.

"Not bad, youngin', but you have to do something about your damage output. Speed and versatility are great, but it'll be hard for you to win fights by yourself like that."

He pauses for thought, then nods solemnly before leading her to the market center. Carriages roll past them on cobblestone streets while busier people move around them on the sidewalks.

"Exactly who taught you how to fight, anyway?"

He points at himself and jerks a thumb over his shoulder, holding up three fingers.

"Seriously? Two Armists and an Archer taught you how to fight like a Rogue?" Sarna rubs her temples in frustration. "And are you familiar with the phrase, 'A man who is self-taught has a fool for a teacher?'"

He rubs the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly at her. She just shakes her head.

"Well, if I'm gonna live with you, then we're fixing that. First, I'm gonna need to see your personal parchment and deck."

The ethereal screen appears in front of him, but she frantically waves her hands through it. Confused, he dismisses it and receives a hard slap to the back of his head.

"Not here, you idiot! You want everyone around us to see what you got?"

A few people who had stopped behind them, are startled as the pair looks around them. They hurry off, trying very hard to show that they hadn't seen anything.

Sarna takes a closer look around as they continue walking, "Say, is it always this busy? It never looked anything like this back in the day..." She sighs as she stares ahead.

"Dungeon hunters."

His words startle her and she almost looks elsewhere for the source.

River cracks his neck without interrupting his stride, "They're looking for a tower."

That makes sense, she thinks to herself, If the rumor going around is that teacher's tower is a dungeon, and they already found several only a couple days travel from here, then finding another one wouldn't be too far-fetched of an idea.

"That would mean the quality of goods sold here has improved, right? Can I at least find some decent clothes?"

He nods emphatically.

"What about Dealers, Mana-smiths, Enchanters, those kinds of places?"

He winces, waggling an open hand in a "so-so" motion.

Sarna sighs in resignation, "Go figure. Without a major teleportation gate, most of those higher end crafters won't even bother coming here. Well--"

She gives a sideways glance to River who catches it.

"--I could just talk you and teacher into upgrading my gear." Her off-handed comment causes him to roll his eyes good naturedly and he smiles back.

"And if you're a good boy, maybe you can catch another glimpse of my underwear when you give it some fancy enchantments."

River stumbles and laughs nervously, cheeks tinging with red.

The market center has dozens, if not over a hundred, small stalls surrounding the town's central point. North of the square is the town hall and several, major business' headquarter buildings. At the south is a small park. To the east and west are older, permanent commercial buildings including crafters and restaurants.

Its in one of these buildings, River finds himself waiting for Sarna to try on some clothes. He waits seated on a bench while she dresses in another room behind a black velvet curtain. It doesn't stop her from continuing their conversation.

"You found everything on your master's list then?"

On the streets, it was easy for their words to be either drowned out by other noises or ignored completely. In the stores, however, they could be picked apart meticulously. So, they're more careful to maintain certain roles.

"Yes, my lady." River's hearty voice and tone brings Sarna to the brink of shivers. "We'll head back whenever you are ready."

"I think I've got enough for a few days. Maybe I can talk your master into sending me to another city before then."

"Logistically speaking, my lady, it shouldn't be a problem. Whether or not he thinks it is wise at this time, however..."

"Yes, yes, yes. We'll see when we return. Anyway, there's two more places I want to go, if that's okay with you."

"Of course."

She pulls back the curtain with arms full of clothes. It takes less than a heartbeat for her to conclude that no one is spying on their conversation. Still, she whispers to River as he stands.

"What about your little girlfriend? You're not gonna meet her before we head back?" Her teasing grin doesn't crack his stoic demeanor.

"I am currently... without... such a relationship with anyone, my lady. Miss Fyrginia and I are merely acquainted."

If this is an act, its a really good one. If not, then that poor girl...

The next place she drags River is a men's formal attire shop, the only one in town. With mostly adventurers and dungeon hunters cycling through the town, its one of the few places not seeing much traffic. Indeed, apart from the beuracrats in town, River is one of the few players aware of the store's existence.

"I knew it! You were missing something! A couple somethings, in fact." Sarna gestures at a mannequin wearing a full set of formal clothes. While more intended for high-tier social events and not for the servants of nobility, the suit's sharp look would sit nicely on the young man.

"A tie... and a coat?" River asks her when an older man no taller than four feet, yet stands with perfect posture, approaches the pair.

"Mister River? Are you here for another unusual order?"

The older man is as impeccably dressed as the mannequins, with a belted pouch strapped on his hip filled with tools of his trade. He adjusts his gold-frame glasses and runs a hand through his grey, slicked back hair which does nothing to hide the sharply tapered ears sticking straight back. The short stature and peculiar ears marks him as a Hilkin person, or "hill-folk."

The Hilkin are Fey-folk, like Elves and Faunus (beast-kin), who prefer to live in areas with rolling hills, or areas where they can easily simulate such an environment.

River glances over at Sarna and the suit she's looking over. He nods with a smile, "As per usual, Master Pinshot, I require items that can handle some hard work."

He rubs a discerning finger and thumb over River's vest, "Yes... if it weren't for these enchantments you added I dare say the work you're putting your clothes through would shred them to bits."

River clears his throat in embrassament, "Before I forget, sir, this is Miss Nessa Val'Besst. A visiting guest of my master. Miss Val'Besst, this is Master Verrin Pinshot, the finest men's tailor in the country."

She holds out a hand for him and he bows to her as he takes it, "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Master Pinshot."

"The pleasure is mine, ma'am. Though I specialize in men's formal attire, I have a smaller catalogue of women's wear that my sisters and I would be thrilled for you to peruse. For you, Mister River, I've been waiting for you to return to complete your suit."

Their last stop, a place wholly incongruous to their previous destinations, is somewhere even River hadn't been before. He didn't grow up in Ruminy and has never seen how it looked before it started expanding, so when Sarna started recognizing old parts of the town and leading their walk, he felt like he was exploring new territory.

With Terrain Knowledge still slotted, he has the directions traced into what felt like a gut feeling about the place.

River straightens out his new, black tie made from rare etherweb spider silk and dusts off the tailcoat made from the same silk as well as threads of a new material: spun crystalized witchroot. Verrin told him that both garments should take to enchanting better, but the witchroot is still in the experimental phase.

Squat, wooden stools line a small walk-up, dirt path to a stone box house. One of the walls had been extended slightly with an awning shading the part where people walk up.

The wall had been replaced with metal bars like a cage. A small cut out space at the bottom is where items and money are exchanged.

This particular sundie actually does something special as well. River and Sarna sit close on a pair of stools, eating a cold treat. Her wooden spoon passes unimpeded through the black mask like mist.

"See," Sarna explains, "This family has a card that creates powdered snow, had it since before I came here the first time. They add sweetened cream, chopped fruits, and slivered nuts. It's more popular in the summer, obviously, but they sell it year round."

River looks back at the store, the elderly woman holding her adolescent granddaughter under a thick blanket. The pleasant smile on her face only emphasizes the countless wrinkles.

He wonders why he's never been here before.

He wonders how he can replicate such a wonderful dish.

He wonders what the group of seven, burly men approaching them will order.

The biggest, baldest one of the bunch presses his palms against the thin metal bars and grins menacingly. The two-handed greatsword strapped to his back shifts a little due to him stooping slightly.

"Got our package, granny?"

The little girl shivers and covers herself completely under the blanket. From under the counter, the old woman lifts up a rectangular box wrapped in white canvas. Whether by fear, age, the cold air or a combination of the three, River couldn't tell why her hands are trembling so much. Scorched on top of the box is the encircled logo of five rat faces and lines connecting them in the shape of a pentagram.

River and Sarna both notice this, but a slight nudge of her foot against his tells him to pretend that he doesn't. They continue eating, just about done with their food.

The group of men chuckle amongst themselves as they turn back to head out. They make their way back down the path when one of the men kicks over a couple of the stools, causing the others nearby to laugh more.

"Hey!"

The gravely, irritated voice stops the group in its tracks. The pair's senses sharpen, taking in everything they can in a heartbeat. River frees one of his hands and places it across his lap, ready to Quickdraw either of his blades.

The leader turns back and looks around, his eyes dragging slowly across the two on the stools. His eyes stop on their target and he lifts one of the men up by their collar. He yanks him closer, inadvertently heading butting the man who yelps in painful surprise.

"Pick them up..." He growls through gritted teeth, dropping the man into the dirt like a sack of rocks. The man with the bloody face scrambles to right the shoddy furniture and returns to his place in the group.

"Don't do that again..." the leader punctuates his last word with a solid thrust of his finger into the offending man's chest, sending him staggering back several feet.

"Let's go."