“Sorry Talia, you have some impressive talents, and helped us get through those traps fairly effortlessly, but my party is looking for someone with a little more punch for future dungeon runs,” Marcus, a stern dwarven warrior, told me.

The two of us were seated in a small pub just outside ‘The Fell Bog’, a beginner dungeon that we had just run with the rest of his newly formed adventuring group, The Axe of Dawn. It went well, and we conquered it in good time, apparently it just wasn’t good enough.

I sighed, then stuck out my hand. “I appreciate that you gave me a chance. Hopefully you’ll find someone to fill the gap in your roster, but if not you have my contact information.” The gruff dwarf nodded, shook my hand, and without another word, set off across the tavern to find the rest of his team.

At my side George, my giant Abyss Crusher, growled. He could probably sense how disappointed I was, even though I was trying to hide it. I reached into my pocket and pulled out some jerky, before holding it out in front of my fuzzy tamed spider; The last thing I needed right now was for my massive four-foot spider to go and make a scene.

I wasn’t exactly surprised with rejection, it happened more often than I’d like to admit. Even if I meshed well with a group, most people just didn’t want an Arachne on their team, even one in their humanoid form. The ‘Evil’ races just didn’t poll well with the adventure team audiences, so most people were exceptionally hesitant to take one on. At least Marcus hadn’t tried to stiff me of my part of the conquest reward, it was enough to keep George and I fed and sheltered for a few more days. With a little luck I’d be able to find another team to audition with before the money ran out.

I put a few coppers on the table to pay for my drink, slid my chair back, and stood up. A few of the locals eyed me up, so I used the six arachnid legs emerging from my back to hold my cloak closed as I left. I wasn’t quite sure what the locals thought about Arachne around here. The dungeon was greenskin-based, so they had no problem with goblins and orcs wandering around, that didn’t mean they were tolerant of all races.

I could pass as human, or at least some subspecies of elf, in this form, if it wasn’t for the six additional legs, and chitinous armor that covered my forearms, my lower legs, and back. Thankfully, unless someone looked closely, I could pass the chitin off as gloves and boots, and the arms could be hidden underneath most outwear.

It looked like a couple people wanted to intercept me, I didn’t know if it was to hit on me, or confront me, thankfully having a massive scary spider following me around was a good deterrent. As we stepped through the double doors and into the street George purred, pleased to be out into the open air again. I reached up, stretching my upper arms high into the air, then set off down the street. It was early evening, and I hadn’t eaten since this morning, so I stopped at a nearby stall to pick up some skewers. Behind the merchant there was a thin crystal screen, which was displaying a mid-ranked adventuring team taking on a dungeon in the capital.

“They’re doing pretty well, eh? The Lance of Starlight started around here, and now they’re in the professional league. You think they’ll conquer the Mad Man’s Labyrinth?”

I stared at the screen, eating the skewer out of one hand, and feeding George with the other. “They’re good… but the minotaur will get them,” I replied between bites. “They’re moving too cautiously down the hallways, and not cautious enough around corners.”

The merchant eyed me curiously. “Isn’t that the right call? A minotaur’s charge can break most tanks, and they’re wise to try and avoid it.”

I threw the skewer stick into a nearby garbage can, wiped my mouth, then shook my head. “The monsters in The Mad Labyrinth like to play with stereotypes, I’d expect him to strike them at a corner.” Just as I said this the adventurer party came up to a corner, only to have a massive blade mounted on a chain swing out in front of them. The warrior attempted to block it, unfortunately he only caught part of the chain, and not the tip, so the blade swung around him and struck the rogue directly in the side. The woman looked down at the blade in surprise, before dissolving into motes of light. An instant later the chain was pulled tight, and the blade embedded itself in the back of the warrior, and the man was yanked around the corner, out of the range of his comrades.

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The merchant snorted. “They had to wait two months for that opportunity.” He flicked his eyes in my direction for just a moment, he was obviously trying to catch as much of the action as possible. “How did you know about the corner? Fan of the labyrinth?”

I shook my head, “I’m a strategist. I’ve only heard rumours about their tactics and extrapolated based on that.”

He grunted, “I wish I’d met you yesterday, might have saved me twenty copper.”

I smiled, “You probably wouldn’t have believed me. Thanks for the food.” I stepped back from the stall, and headed further down the street. My current lodgings were located at the far side of town, in the district closest to the dungeon. The facilities down there were geared more towards adventurers, and dungeon workers, so it would be easier to find another group to join. Plus, the inn I was staying at was run by a halfling woman, and had some of the most delicious breakfasts I’d had since leaving home.

As I left the town center, the houses changed from tall wooden buildings, to squat stone constructs. There were fewer humans, dwarves and elves, and more goblins and orcs. I even caught sight of the occasional troll and ogre wandering about. Since the nocturnal races were just starting the day, the streets were full of people. I had to squeeze through the crowd in several places to reach my destination, ‘Myra’s Inn’. The majority of it was built underground, you even had to go down some stairs to enter the main tavern section, and it catered specifically to underground dwelling races.

As soon as I stepped through the swinging door the curly-haired, matronly, halfling owner jumped up from behind the bar. “Lass! We saw you on the local dungeon broadcast earlier, congratulations on your conquest.” She paused, checking behind me, “You get rejected again?”

“Yeah, not enough ‘offensive potential’ for the team, supposedly.” I replied, plopping down on a barstool in front of her.

“Bah! Those idiots wouldn’t know talent if it bit them in the ass. Most teams are too obsessed with their image, when they should really be worried about having the proper balance on the team.” Myra reached down behind the bar and pulled out a bottle of thick liquid and placed it in front of me. “Ragnar sent another message right after your victory, he still wants to recruit you as a sub boss. He wanted me to ask you to drop by the dungeon later.” I stared at the bottle in my hand for a moment, then took a deep swig.

“I don’t want to work in a dungeon,” I replied, before laying my head on the bar. “My dream is to be an adventurer.”

“I know sweety, and no one works harder than you to make their dream come true.” Myra patted me on the back of the head. “But sooner or later that big Trollblood is going to come down here and talk to you himself, you better be prepared.”

Slowly, I sat back up, and drained the remaining brew from the bottle. It made me a little tipsy, which was usually difficult with my innate poison resistance, but some master brewer out there had figured out the proper combination of mushrooms and herbs to overcome that resistance, at least temporarily.

“Thanks Myra,” I said, slowly rising to my feet. “You’re the best.”

The halfling smiled at me, waved goodbye to me with one hand, while throwing George part of a sausage with the other. I half stumbled down the stairs, to the lower floor, where all the rooms were carved out of the natural stone. Most races would find these spaces cold, and claustrophobic, but for the races that lived underground they were homely. I’d been living here for months, mostly because Myra was willing to let the rent slide occasionally when I was out of work. I shucked my gear, placing the glaive, bow, and leather armor in one corner, the silk undergarments in another, and reverted to my natural form. The room was a little more cramped when everything below my abdomen reverted to its spider form. It did let me stretch out my eight legs, before I settled into my impromptu nest made of blankets.

Once I was settled George wandered over, shuffled about until he found a comfortable place to lay down next to me, and was almost instantly asleep. I smiled at my companion, before I pulled a silk sheet around my shoulders to keep warm, and followed him into dreamland.