Rosens Full Course (1)
People who saw the flyers Aterugar had scattered everywhere swarmed in like clouds. Lines stretched from the inn's courtyard through the crossroads and along the north-south road. Della handled the bathhouse, while Francois and Pelle managed the inn. Quick-footed Marim directed traffic for the long queue of visitors, ushering them in one by one. Idwild headed to the ticket booth in the backyard of Mideronde's research lab. There, after paying and passing through the official entrance, they could finally enter the Monster Zoo. Mideronde then guided them to waiting carriages based on group size. It wasn't part of their original agreement, but with the crowds overflowing, everyone pitched in voluntarily. Dwarven elders, including Ukun, rode one per carriage, operating the brakes. Ammugar and Orkog each took charge of an experience zone and the souvenir shop. Aterugar circled overhead, providing aerial entertainment and keeping the monsters' antics in check. Every inn employee except the sightless Kosa was fully mobilized. Plus a dozen short-term hires for odd jobs, the dwarves, and Mideronde herself. Even so, the influx was overwhelming—they couldn't even stop for a single meal on opening day. They'd only distributed flyers in Bue, Fribourg, and a few nearby territories to avoid overload, yet here it was.
"My god, Bertrand. Aren't you short-staffed?" Hildeva asked worriedly, standing in Mideronde's research lab backyard amid the throng. She'd dropped by the Monster Zoo briefly to handle the dimensional gate's permanent opening permit. Gates could be opened and closed at a mage's discretion if temporary, but keeping one open like this required official notification—to prevent misuse, like teleporting troops for an attack on the direct territory. For us, it didn't matter much; the entrance was in Rosens' inn, and the exit was some monster-infested hillside nobody knew.
"Tell me about it. I hired ten extras, but who knew it'd still be this bad."
"City hall can help with job placements. You won't last a month like this before everyone burns out."
"Thanks, Mayor."
The officials Hildeva brought were chatting with Mideronde to verify permit details.
"Where exactly is this?"
"Yes, entrances and exits must be specified. It's a required field on the form."
"This is the Pantin region in the southwest of the Tripoli Kingdom."
"Yes... Tripoli... what?! Tripoli?!"
The officials gawked at Mideronde's calm statement, scanning the area. I was just as shocked. The Tripoli Kingdom was vastly distant from ours—no diplomatic ties whatsoever.
I jumped into the conversation. "Mideronde, isn't this somewhere in Semada Forest?"
"Yeah right. How could a place like this sprawling hillside be in there? Don't be silly."
Hildeva looked embarrassed. "Oh dear... I assumed it connected somewhere in our kingdom... Another country's territory?"
She trailed off, gazing at the endless hills and shuttling carriages. "This is tricky..."
Of course it was—purely legal issues. A gate within the kingdom? No problem. But one crossing borders? Catastrophic. Imagine our kingdom sending legions through to invade Tripoli. International gate treaties were ironclad; no sane mage skipped territories without reason, lest they trigger detection spells from the other side.
Mideronde shrugged. "Eh? Tripoli probably won't make a fuss."
"Explain. This is serious."
"Well, they likely don't even know this hillside exists in their territory."
Her story: She'd built her lab here eons ago, before Tripoli even formed. To protect her monsters, she'd warped space, isolating the area.
"Like scooping out a chunk of Tripoli dirt with a giant shovel and plopping it elsewhere. And that was pre-founding."
"Got it. So to Tripoli, it's like the land never existed."
"Exactly. It exists... but also doesn't."
Hildeva wasn't satisfied, adjusting her glasses with a frown. "Hmm... If that's true, no issue, but international accords don't work that way."
She turned to me. "I'll file the paperwork as favorably as possible to the capital. Normally it'd be my call, but territory disputes escalate it."
"Understood. If needed, Mideronde can explain in person. The capital has mages..."
"It's not just that—foreign affairs and Tripoli get tangled. Anyway, don't worry too much."
Easy for her to say, but I wasn't fully reassured. I racked my hero days for any favors owed to Tripoli—nothing. Shame; it'd be handy now.
That evening, the staff dragged back exhausted. They barely touched Francois's warm dinner before collapsing upstairs. Ammugar and Orkog had living quarters above the souvenir shop. The empty hall echoed with dwarves heartily guzzling beer.
I paid the ten short-term hires their daily wage, then squeezed in among the dwarves.
"Come on, Balder. Have a pint."
Ukun filled a mug from the oak barrel and shoved it over. I downed it, got a refill.
"Whew. Today was chaos. Elders holding up?"
"Don't worry about us! Pure fun!"
"Dwarves dig shafts sleepless for a week!"
"Glad to hear it."
Ukun slammed his mug down after a long swig. "But seriously, Balder—understaffed much?"
"Thought ten would cut it. Might need twenty."
"Twenty? Costs'll skyrocket..."
"Big earners spend big on labor."
"True. Scaling up means more hires. Still, daily wages add up quick. Whew."
Personnel costs dominated any business. Twenty more? Expenses would explode. But without it, the core staff would break. Time to ask Hildeva for referrals.
True to her word, Hildeva sent vetted job seekers from city hall. We picked ten prime candidates and threw them all into the Monster Zoo. Staff returned to inn duties as before. With Ukun, Ammugar, and Orkog there, they'd manage the newbies.
Only now could we snag quick meals. Still hectic, though.
Out-of-towners stayed at the inn post-zoo. Non-guests flocked to the bathhouse—none rivaled its facilities regionally. Inn crowds boomed the mercenary desk in the corner. Captain Hardo ditched his office for on-site consultations and contracts. Celereja ditched the temple too—travelers arrived banged up or sick. More patients here than at church; obvious choice.
Wagon lot overflowed; carriages lined the roadside. Zoo-goers shopped Rosens proper, juicing the local economy.
Summary? Jackpot.
But every action has reaction. Days later, pale-as-a-ghost Hildeva rushed to the inn.