Over the next few days, Aubrey recuperated and explored the cathedral, getting to know its ins and outs. The attic above the transept housed a sizeable bedroom, a storage room, and a study. A couple of smaller bedrooms branched off from the upper hallway outside the attic stairwell.

One of the rooms overlooked the cathedral's main floor from the balcony—what must have been a private box for the wealthy and privileged back in its heyday.

As for the cathedral's basement levels and its secret passage, they led into a network of tunnels and underground chambers. According to Cedric, the basement had served as a crypt during the cathedral's functioning years. Now, it stored a sizeable stockpile of items, artifacts, and various supplies.

There were also remnants from the cathedral's former glory—wooden pews, religious statuary, and altar fixtures that sat collecting dust.

Turns out, Cedric Undergloom had a humorous side—dry wit and deadpan delivery.

"You could say, we gargoyles have a 'Stone' personality," the gargoyle commented.

Wow... that one almost sent her back into the grave, pun included. Aubrey rolled her eyes, groaning.

But Ceddy proved a useful assistant, and a diligent custodian. The gargoyle tidied and maintained the cathedral's interior, cleaning and fixing the structural damage caused by Aubrey's arrival and their brief brawl. He possesed some sort of earth magic, enabling him to manipulate stone, repairing surfaces and structures.

A handy skill, considering the state of the cathedral.

Additionally, Ceddy cooked, preparing Aubrey's meals. Though, the fare proved simple and plain. Mostly stews, soups, and gruels, or dried meat and jerky. Where'd he find the ingredients? She didn't care enough to ask. As long as it looked, smelled, and tasted edible, Aubrey had no complaints.

Best part, the gargoyle's culinary skills didn't involve rocks, moss, lichen, or gravel.

On the third day, after her meal, Ceddy escorted her to a large bathing chamber under the cathedral. Within, a tub carved into the stone, resembling a mini-hot spring, stood. Steam issued, and the water beckoned invitingly.

Fresh, heated water continually circulated and replenished the tub. Aubrey suspected Ceddy utilized his stone magic, or it could be plumbing, steam, and boiling systems, or the supernatural equivalent.

Whatever kept the tub consistently replenished, Aubrey approved.

Bathing in near-scalding waters soothed her aches and stiff muscles, washing away her wounds. Additionally, a shelf contained an assortment of soaps, lotions, and shampoo, crafted from a combination of oils, essences, and floral extracts.

"Did you make these?" Aubrey inquired, eyeing the bottles.

"Yes," the gargoyle affirmed. "While maintaining the cathedral, I forage the surrounding forest."

"Neat." Aubrey picked one bottle, popped the cork, and sniffed the contents. Smells heavenly. She dabbed a finger, rubbing the concoction. The substance's consistency reminded her of a lotion, or cream. "These are great, Ceddy."

"Thank you, Aubrey," the gargoyle inclined his head. "They are modest, yet sufficient. Use however much suits your fancy."

"Will do."

And oh, boy, did she. After scrubbing, lathering, and sudsing, Aubrey luxuriated, wallowing in the steaming, perfumed waters.

For the first time since her... reincarnation? Resurrection? Whatever. Aubrey felt pampered.

Sure, the accommodations and amenities ranked primitive compared to her previous life, but Aubrey didn't complain. Hell, she didn't have the luxury to, and frankly, didn't care.

Afterward, Ceddy provided fresh clothes. Nothing glamorous or stylish—just a simple shift, blouse, and breeches. The dress she'd worn earlier, torn and stained, Ceddy disposed of.

Too bad. Aubrey kind of liked the outfit.

Oh, well.

Thus, began her new routine: Wake up, lounge around, eat, explore, bathe, and repeat.

In between, Aubrey experimented with her guitar-axe, Hellion's Cry, testing its capabilities and limits.

Thraunquill launched spectral blades, Zyphrendil conjured a temporary sonic-shield, Vibrakeld emitted stunning vibrations, and Lumivox revealed hidden things. Each ability consumed a portion of her guitar-axe's finite charge. So, no overuse unless Aubrey desired a recharge.

Each ability also possessed a cooldown. Meaning, Aubrey couldn't spam them repeatedly without a delay.

There was one thing that puzzled her about the guitar-axe: how the hell did it produce sound without being connected to an amp?

Guess the guitar-axe utilized magic. Maybe a built-in amplifier? Or speakers?

Regardless, Aubrey could play, and the guitar-axe operated similarly to the original. But its redesigned, axe-inspired body took some getting used to holding without cutting herself. She had to adjust her fingering techniques to accommodate Hellion's Cry's modified fretboard, thicker strings, sharper ridges, and blade-like pickup.

Luckily, Aubrey's prior experience and skills helped her learn fast. After a couple of days, her proficiency returned, her muscle memory and dexterity adjusting and adapting.

On the fifth day, Aubrey's boredom prompted her to return outside.

"Hey, Ceddy, wanna come with me?" Aubrey hollered down the cathedral's entranceway, where the gargoyle polished the floor.

"We are Unhallowed," Ceddy answered, his brush methodically gliding across the stone floor. "Our existence is a bane to others, and zealots such as the Cogsworn Order seek to purge the likes of us."

Ah. She had almost forgotten about that name. The graverobbers and the cemetery caretaker mentioned them, didn't they? There was also another group—the Twilight Cabal...

"Cogsworn Order, huh? Never heard of 'em," Aubrey shrugged, approaching her retainer. She adjusted the guitar-axe's strap, Hellion's Cry resting comfortably over her shoulder. "But you're probably right. You look scary. Meanwhile, I look fabulous."

"Indeed," Ceddy concurred, continuing his polishing. "Your presence alone may attract unwanted attention."

"Great. Stay here, guard the cathedral. Keep the home fires burning," Aubrey ordered. "Maybe I'll bring you a souvenir. Got anything you like?"

"A bundle of Dreamleaf would prove welcome."

Dreamleaf? Sounds psychedelic, or medicinal. She searched her memories for what it could be, and a fragment of one belonging to the version of her native to this world surfaced. Ah, that's Dreamleaf, a mildly hallucinogenic plant with sedative and relaxing properties.

Wait... wasn't that just Cannabis?

"Why do you need Dreamleaf anyway?" Aubrey arched an eyebrow.

"Because I want to get..." Cedric tilted his head slightly to glance at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "...stoned."

"Huuurrgggh." Aubrey groaned, staggering and clutching her chest, theatrically. "Never change, Ceddy. Just... never change. Fine. Dreamleaf it is."

"Thank you, Aubrey. Be safe."

----------------------------------------

Aubrey's boots crunched on the soot-strewn cobblestones as she threaded her way back to the Ironworks district. Above, the sky remained cloudy, though thankfully, no rain fell.

Yet.

Along the way, Aubrey encountered several passersby—a handful of wagons and pedestrians traveling between districts. A trio of roving merchants selling goods stopped to hawk their wares, one of them attempting to sell Aubrey a charm pendant.

"Madame, wouldst thou blesseth thyself with the finest protection amulets in Mordenstradt?" a portly, bald man greeted, his teeth stained yellow and rotten. "Crafted by the renowned alchemist-turned-artificer, none beset thine presence with the esteemed protections offered only by the humble merchant, Jebediah Ollander, Esquire!"

"Move along," Aubrey waved him off.

Undeterred, the salesman presented a necklace with a shiny metal disc, stamped with a strange symbol.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

"Behold, the symboleth of the Holy See, imbuedeth with powerful warding magics!" the salesman brandished his pendant. "One measly sovereign, and thee receiveth thineself the favoreth of the High Clergotht and the blessingeth of the Holy See's divine proclamations and theological proclivities."

This annoying piece of...

Aubrey grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close.

"Listen, you fleabitten huckster," Aubrey snarled. "If you value your balls, shove the sermon up your ass and sell elsewhere, or I'll shove your own pendant so far up your ass, you'll be shitting holy protection charms. Got it, Jeb the charlatan esquire?" Aubrey's nails dug threateningly into his clothing.

"Eyaagh!" Jebediah the alchemist-artificer Esquire shrieked, his face blanching.

"Scram!" Aubrey released him, and the merchant bolted, his wagon creaking and lopsided.

Well, that's taken care of...

"Excuseth! Madame, art thou in searcheth of rare and valuable potions and elixirs?" Another hawker, a lanky, hook-nosed, and bald man, attempted. "Thou hath foundeth the one, the only, Horace Bottomsley, Apothecarial Adventurer, Adventurer Potioneer!"

Aubrey glared, and Horace Bottomsley the apothecary and adventurer potioneer wisely fled, his wagon rattling as his cart careened down the street, its wheels screeching.

Yeah, scram, ya scammer.

Third time's the charm. Aubrey eyed the last merchant, her eyebrow raised.

"Ma'am, wouldst thou—"

Aubrey sighed and walked past, ignoring the hawker, who promptly abandoned his efforts, driving his wagon away, his wares clacking and rattling.

She continued on her wandering.

----------------------------------------

The cacophony of industry—hammers striking anvils, steam hissing from pipes, gears grinding against each other—filled the air, and the smell of coal smoke permeated.

Aubrey followed a winding road, the street thronging with people and machinery, past workshops, and smithies. Here, the locals conducted a lively trade in parts, scrap, and labor.

A sign depicting a cogwheel crossed with a hammer swung outside a workshop. Inside, Aubrey spied several artificers and technicians working on projects: assembling contraptions, crafting clockwork mechanisms, and calibrating gadgets.

A pair of guards patrolled the street, their heavy armor clanking, a small smokestack jutting from each soldier's helmet. The guards halted any potential miscreants, inspecting packages and crates, searching wagons and carts.

Damn, these guys mean business...

Aubrey avoided eye contact and blended into the crowd, inconspicuously sidling past the guards, who paid her no heed.

After spending half the day roaming around with no particular destination in mind, her meandering led her to the edge of the district, where the clatter and din of industry subsided, replaced by derelict and ramshackle structures.

This looks promising.

Aubrey traversed a narrow, cobbled road, her steps slowing, her ears and eyes alert. The area looked less inhabited, with fewer pedestrians and far fewer people to blend in with.

The sun neared the horizon, the dark gray clouds thickening, and a cold drizzle started to fall. In the distance, thunder rumbled, and the wind whistled.

An odd ping resonated within, and she sensed a familiar tug, like an invisible tether pulling her. Aubrey paused, gazing upward at a nondescript building by the alley.

It... looks different from the rest.

Aubrey studied the structure's façade and its weathered and cracked surface, its bricks grimy and soot-covered. A half-collapsed wooden staircase led to a doorway, its entrance boarded.

The tug grew insistent, compelling her to approach. Then another ping echoed, louder and more urgent than before.

Aubrey stepped off the cobblestone street onto the sidewalk, her boots splashing through puddles and muck. At the building's side, she noticed a narrow opening—an arched doorway partially obscured by a ragged curtain of dangling strips of cloth and steel wire.

Before she could move the cloth aside, a distant, muffled pounding reverberated. Aubrey cocked her head, listening intently. The rhythmic tapping seemed to emanate from within.

♪ Bum! Tap, bum-da-bum-bum-tap! Bum, tap, bum-da-bum-ta-taptap! ♪

It sounded like...

Drums.

Is someone practicing?

Without further thought, Aubrey parted the curtain and opened the door, the rusty hinges squealing in protest.

A narrow corridor led to a stairwell. The drums' source resided above, the music growing louder with each step.

Aubrey ascended the stairs, the drums' volume increasing. She reached the landing, and a wooden door loomed ahead, its surface pocked and scarred, its surface smudged with grime and soot. The sound of drumming emanated from behind.

Aubrey pressed her ear against the door and listened.

The drums' beat intensified, and the sound of cymbals crashed, mixing with the steady thrum of the drums.

What the... Aubrey gripped the handle and turned the knob. The door creaked open, the drums' volume escalating. She peered through the crack.

A figure of brass and copper sat behind a drum set. It wore a top hat perched at a jaunty angle, its rim frayed and peeling. Its body, gleaming and burnished, stood hunched over a set of drums.

In its mechanical hands, the automaton wielded drumsticks, its arms ratcheting and whirring as they moved. The automaton's legs pumped the pedals, keeping time with the relentless tempo.

With each beat, a mechanical whirr and click resounded. Aubrey could feel the vibrations in the floorboards and through her boots.

Its drum set appeared cobbled together, its construction a haphazard and improvised fusion of scrapped parts, discarded bits, and salvaged gears and pistons.

Yet, the automaton played, its beats, intricate and technical.

Aubrey's jaw dropped, her eyes widening as the automaton executed a rapid, syncopated fill. Its sticks blurred and the drum set shuddered and quaked.

Holy shit...

She inched closer, enchanted.

With a final crashing flourish, the automaton ended its song, the cymbal ringing, its bass pedal undulating.

"Bravo!" Aubrey clapped and whistled.

With a wir and a hiss, the automaton pivoted, regarding her with glass, compound optics that whirled, zooming in and focusing.

"Oh, uh, hi," Aubrey waved. "Sorry. Didn't mean to barge in. But that was an awesome drum solo. Seriously rad beats, and that fill and double-bass, and—woah!"

The automaton leapt towards her, its brass feet clicking and its arms outstretched. Aubrey ducked a wild swing, the automaton's drumstick narrowly missing her.

"Calm the fuck down!" Aubrey somersaulted, rolling beneath another blow.

Music filled her mind—a wild, percussive barrage of beats and fills. Shimmering lines and pulsating marks trailed in the automaton's wake, tracing its movements. Her ears perceived the automaton's blows as notes and measures.

♪ Bam-bap-bap-tap-clank-plink! ♪

Aubrey ducked and dodged, her footwork matching the tempo and the beats. She pivoted and swerved, avoiding the automaton's flailing sticks, each near miss sounding a satisfying note.

"Cut it out!" Aubrey cried, narrowly avoiding a blow.

The automaton pursued her, its brass feet ratcheting and clanking.

Aubrey dove through an adjoining doorway, the automaton hot on her heels. They careened down a cluttered room. Books and tomes lay strewn. Furniture—cabinets, chairs, and a desk, stood rotting. Papers littered the floor.

She vaulted over a table, evading the automaton, which crashed through, sending splinters and sawdust flying.

"Shit, you persistent bucket of bolts!"

She had no choice...

Hellion's Cry.

Time to shut your tin ass the fuck down.

Aubrey pivoted, plucking the strings and activating Vibrakeld. Sonic waves buffeted the automaton, blowing the brass construct off its feet and slamming it against the wall.

"Ha!" Aubrey pointed her axe triumphantly.

The automaton landed upright, and shook itself, readying for a renewed assault. It holstered its drumsticks and spread its arms, its digits lengthening and sharpening into knife blades.

Uh oh...

Aubrey scrambled away as the automaton darted toward her, its digits now gleaming daggers. She avoided one strike, then a second, ducking and twisting.

The third barely missed her head, and Aubrey backpedaled. The fourth one slashed her arm, leaving a shallow gash.

"Augh!" Aubrey winced, gripping her wound. Damn, that hurt!

The automaton advanced, stabbing and slashing. Aubrey parried one jab, but another stabbed her leg, forcing her to kneel. The automaton reared, raising its knife-fingers high.

A pulsing cue flashed in her vision—the hint for a critical timing for a counterattack.

I got this.

Aubrey jumped to her feet and punched the mark by instinct, triggering a shockwave that slammed the automaton back.

[Skill: "Shove of the Heartbeat's Force" Activated! Cooldown: 8 seconds]

The automaton landed and charged. Aubrey blocked one strike with her guitar-axe. She caught a glancing blow on her shoulder. Pain shot down her arm.

She retaliated with a slash of her own, catching the automaton in its midsection, a visible dent marring its gleaming body.

Another glowing cue shone in her sight, and she struck, a series of blows rained onto the automaton. More dents formed in its body, and it staggered back.

Not enough damage, though.

Aubrey rolled under a roundhouse kick, the automaton's brass boot-heel cracking the wooden floorboards. She dashed back and unleashed a salvo of strikes—slashes and chops. The dents and chips deepened.

Did she really have to destroy this automaton? It played such good music...

"Parley! Parley, dammit!" Aubrey pleaded.

The automaton froze mid-kick as if contemplating her words. It tilted its head to one side.

"Look... you play fucking amazing drums." Aubrey slung Hellion's Cry across her back and raised her hands in a placating gesture.

The automaton lowered its leg, and regarded her, its lenses focusing and zooming.

"So, if there's a way we could, I dunno, talk this out..." Aubrey suggested.

A moment passed... and the battle music began to die down in her mind. The glowing cues and musical patterns also faded from her vision.

Okay. So far so good...

She took a step forward.

The automaton retracted its blades into normal digits.

Aubrey extended a hand, slowly walking toward the construct. "See? We don't have to fight."

The automaton tilted its head the other way and studied her, the clicks and whirs of its gears and servos filling the air.

"That's it... nice and easy." Aubrey murmured softly, her palm still outstretched. "I'm Aubrey. A fellow musician. I come in peace."

The automaton reciprocated her gesture and extended its brass limb.

Gotcha... Aubrey grinned. "Let's—"

Just as its mechanical hand reached hers, it clenched into a fist and drove an uppercut into her chin before the single note of the battle music resumed in her mind.

CRACK!

Aubrey’s head snapped back and she saw stars. Her knees buckled and the world spun. She crashed onto the floor and a dark haze enveloped her consciousness.

[You’ve acquired a small amount of experience.]