Hyena Werks, A proud Orario Company.
DanmachiXDnD Nonhuman semi SI
----------------------------------------
Chapter Two:
The Movers and Shakers
(Jailhouse Blues Part One)
X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X
~“...Oh, no-body knows, the trouble I've seen
Nobody knows, but Yeenoghu!~”
“Oh, for Ganesha’s sake would you shut up already!”
The mook with the white domino mask and silly orange-colored clothes went ignored as I continued to crow out some good ol’ Louis Armstrong at the top of my lungs. You don’t interrupt one of Mr. Armstrong’s masterpieces.
I wrapped my shackled hands around the bars of my cell and craned my long neck through the gap just so I could finish the rest of the song- right in his ear.
The way he was white knuckling that halberd of his told me he probably didn’t appreciate my singing skills.
Hmpf, everyone’s a critic.
Too bad they refused to give me a cup of water when I asked, how am I supposed to sing prison songs without something to bang along the bars?
After I finished the last note (I held it extra long, just for them); I put a hand to my bare chest and let loose a dramatic sigh as I leaned up against the bars, the handful of guards surrounding my cell flinching at my sudden movement.
“Ah, but what else is a gnoll to do but sing his laments after he's been so wrongfully arrested! Oh, ‘tis a true travesty of justice when one is locked away, innocent of the crimes he is accused of! Innocent, yet doomed to spend forevermore- imprisoned within this decrepit crypt!”
“You’ve been in there-” The same guard ground out through gritted teeth. “For an hour.”
“An eternity!” I threw my hands in the air, howling like a pastor preaching a fiery gospel. “Eons and ages pass as I waste away within these accursed walls! I have been damned by forces beyond comprehension, forced to watch as infinity hastens ever onward-”
“What would It take to get you to shut up?” The guard interjected before I could really get going.
In an instant, I dropped my drama club act and deadpanned. “Food.”
The guard actually face-palmed with a groan before turning to face me fully. “I already told you; I can’t give you anything until Ganesha returns. You’ll merely have to be patient.”
I stuck my head back through the bars until I was face to face with the masked man. “I don’t think you understand, friend, I’m so hungry right now- I can’t even see straight.”
At his scoff I leaned forward until I was straining against the bars.
“Look at me Steve, I’m starving here- wasting away until, soon enough, I’ll be nothing but a withered pile of fur and bones. Honestly, I’m starting to think that I could eat the leather from your boots and ask for seconds. Hell, I’d say that shoe leather sounds like a five-star meal right about now.”
“My names not Stev-”
“You won’t tell me your name, so now you're Steve. So, Steve, are you going to get me something to eat? Or am I going to have to resort to-” I drop my voice an octave into a husky whisper. “-desperate measures.”
The now dubbed Steve scowled and took a step back away from the cell, gripping his halberd even harder.
“And what do you mean by desperate measures, beast?”
I groaned and let myself slip down the bars until I was lying in a sad puddle on the ground, giving Steve the biggest, most pitiful puppy dog eyes a gnoll has ever, or will ever make.
“Cry and beg until you give in, and I am warning you all now, I’m a really ugly crier-”
I continued on while Steve shot a death glare at one of the other guards who snorted at my threat.
“-Snot bubbles, choking sobs, gasping breaths- the whole nine yards, it's really, really hard to listen to.”
Steve only rolled his eyes behind his mask and turned back around, continuing his oh so busy job of staring at the stone wall and looking angry. For my part, I couldn’t help another painful whimper escape my lips as my stomach continued to feel like it was eating me from the inside out.
I wasn’t quite at the point yet where I was willing to completely throw away my dignity and make good on my threat, but that time was rapidly approaching. Misery loves company though, so if I’m going to be miserable, you better be damn well sure Stevie boy here is going to be right there alongside me.
To a chorus of groans from the guards, I close my eyes and start warbling out another song from where I lay on the floor.
~Ah, Marty Robins, you magnificent bastard.
My ears pricked up at the sound of multiple sets of footsteps coming from further down the hallway, but I continued singing as if I didn’t hear the group approaching. They even let me finish the piece before someone spoke up.
“You’re not a Loup Garou.”
I blew a snort out my nose before lazily cracking open my eyes. “Why do you people keep calling me a werewo- What in the Nine Hells are you wearing?!”
A crowd of new people had entered the room, but only five people stood before me. And out of the five of them, only two were even remotely dressed like actual human beings.
The first was a woman with vivid, scarlet hair, wearing a pair of shockingly tight leather pants and a low, low, cut collared shirt; She was also rocking an absurdly large eye patch that covered most of the right side of her face. The other one was another woman dressed in a tasteful cocktail dress with inexplicably snow-white hair, even though she didn’t look a day over twenty-five.
And those two were the normal ones.
Front and center of the group was an absolutely shredded dude wearing nothing but a half-strapped toga, enough gold bling to bring Mr. T to shame, and an elephant shaped domino mask of all things. Props to the guy, though, he made that toga work for him.
I don’t swing that way… but Greek God indeed.
Beside him was a normal enough looking old man who only stood out because of the blindingly white and gold robe he wore. Hovering in the back of the group seemed to be the old man's evil twin, because all I could see of them was the pitch black hooded robe they wore that covered them head to toe.
But, easily the most egregious one of the lot was the shorter girl with ginger hair; Who was wearing nothing but booty shorts, a bra band, and some ridiculous hooded shawl thing that looked like someone skinned the top half off a hoodie, and draped it across her shoulders.
Who the hell let her walk out the door dressed like that?
The whole room watched as the shorty wearing less clothes than a starving lady-of-the-night, bent over and busted a gut laughing at whatever expression was plastered across my muzzle.
The woman in the dress put a gloved hand to her lips and gave a small, aristocratic giggle as she looked upon her howling peer with cold, apathetic eyes.
“See, Loki? Even monsters think your sense of fashion is… incongruous.”
Identical scowls appeared on both the now named Loki and I’s faces. She opened her mouth to retort, but I beat her to the punch with a chest deep growl that felt like it shook the very earth.
“Don’t call me that.”
Deafening silence followed my snarled-out command as it reverberated around the room.
The bravado, the amusement, the clinical detachment, the apathetic indifference, and the simple curiosity… All the emotions on the faces of these strangers slipped into something else, something primal, as I slowly heaved myself back onto my feet. Only as my full bulk filled up the cell from floor to ceiling, when my ears were pushed flat against the roof of my cell did they realize-
I was absolutely nothing like the Loup Garou they thought they knew.
I stared the woman who spoke down, glaring directly into her violet eyes that reflected only the tiniest amount of fear.
“I am not a monster.”
Practically a whisper in comparison, yet the words felt all the more impactful for it.
The Greek God guy recovered the fastest from the silence that followed.
The confident, ear to ear grin that had disappeared from his face was now back with a vengeance. He pulled his arms up akimbo and said with a smile wide enough to look painful. “Sorry about that, my friend! We meant no offense of course! This is new for all of us, why, when we heard that an intelligent mons-” he cut himself off with a cough when he saw my expression darken and hastily moved to correct himself “-I mean… an alternate mortal was captured outside the gates, we just had to come and speak with you!”
I raised a furry brow at the term ‘Alternate Mortal’ before scowling even harder when it finally registered what exactly he had said. “Ok, first of all, I wasn’t ‘captured’- I surrendered after those lunatics on the road attacked me out of nowhere.” I ignored the quick side-eye the group gave each other to continue my rant. “Secondly, I am a gnoll, not a monster, or a beast, or whatever else you people keep calling me! Seriously, how have you people never heard of a gnoll before?!”
I took a deep breath before continuing. “And thirdly!” I wrapped my hands around the bars once more and leaned down until I was eye level with the Elephant Man. “Can you please tell me where I am?”
The man just looked at me with near open mouth disbelief, his smile far more strained this time. “You… Do not know where you are?”
“NO!” I cried to the heavens, throwing up my arms for good measure. “No one will tell me anything! I tried asking those people outside the city and they jumped me for it! Your man here-” I gave a dismissive wave in Steve's direction “-and his goon squad wouldn’t say anything either! So no, mister Elephant Man, I don’t know where I am, who you are, or why people keep calling me a monster. So, if you could please, please, tell me- I would greatly appreciate it.”
Tirade over, I crossed my arms over my chest with a huff and leaned back, watching as the group of strangers seemed to have a hushed conversation with each other; Using little more than their eyes and short hand movements.
My eyes drifted over to the rest of the group that had followed the five into the room but had stayed along the edges and all but out of sight. Most of them looked like your stereotypical group of wacky and zany fantasy denizens. The group came in all genders, sizes, and races; Just as diverse as the people themselves was the kinds of weaponry they were toting around.
The personal retinue of the five in front of me, most likely.
I spied a blonde girl near the middle of the pack staring off into space with only slightly more life in her eyes than a dead fish. The only reason I even noticed her at all was because she was wearing the most impractical armor both Maedmux and I had ever seen; Only a tiny breast plate that purposely left half her chest exposed. It was like she was asking for someone to slip a knife in and puncture a lung or something.
There was only one person in this room who would ever allow their guard to walk around like that.
My eyes snapped back to the previously (and disconcertedly) named Loki, who had been staring at me this entire time while her peers argued over what I said. Instead of looking away, that vulpine smirk of hers just grew and she threw a wink my way.
Or at least I think she did, it was kinda’ hard to tell with her eyes all… squinty like that.
Wait a minute.
I slowly panned back to the blonde girl. The tall, amber eyed, VERY FUCKING FAMILIAR GIRL.
Round city.
Giant Tower.
Dead eyed blond with the titty window armor.
Oh no.
I closed my eyes and rested by forehead on the cool iron bars of my cell.
“Excuse me.” Even to my own sensitive ears, my voice sounded so very, very small; Yet the room was rendered silent regardless. “Can you please just… Tell me the name of this city?”
“The Labyrinth City” I crack open my eyes and stare at Loki as she speaks. She isn’t smiling now. “Orario.”
That was certainly not the name of any DnD city that I know of…
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
So that means-
A shudder runs up my back, and then suddenly I’m on my ass.
My legs gave out.
Not in a million years would I have recognized that name without context. But in conjunction with what I’ve seen of the city, and that show’s poster girl…
…
…I got dropped into fucking Danmachi.
…
It was there- Had been there. The idea of going home.
The idle hope that this whole thing was at worst… transient. That, even if waking up as a gnoll; On the bank of some random pond in the middle of nowhere wasn’t just some bizarre dream-
I could still go home one day.
DnD is literally founded on the basis that reality is made of innumerable worlds and universes. In the back of my mind, I figured that even if I was trapped in the body of some seven-foot-tall hyena-man, there was a chance, no matter how miniscule it was, that I would eventually find my way back. That after whatever grand adventure I was put here for- I could… hijack a mind flayer ship or something and jump worlds until I was back.
But here?
In this place?
In this world that I only know of tangentially?
Loki’s voice cut off my train of thought. “That ring a bell to you, Mr. Hyena man?”
I looked up to see her casually leaning up on the bars, close enough for me to reach out and grab if I felt like it.
Instead, I just dragged my hands through the fur on my head, and down my face until they fell off the end of my muzzle and into my lap with a plop.
I only ever watched half of the first episode, and even that was a fucking chore to get through, with its stop motion animation and the unbearable use of all the worst anime troupes, crammed into a twenty-minute runtime. I knew next to nothing about the setting, but I guess I picked up enough through osmosis to be able to recognize the ‘number one’ waifu of this God-forsaken setting…
What else do I remember about this hellhole… Other than the main character of this harem show being an actual child.
Ew.
Alright, Something-something Gods walk the earth, and are nothing but hedonistic animals- something-something the giant dungeon at the center of the city is sentient and actively wants to kill everything that lives and breathes, but the people of this world treat it as nothing more than their own personal piggy bank.
There was something else too, something about the Gods being able to detect lies? I’ll have to be careful with my words just in case.
“I’m not familiar with the name, no.” The truth, I’m absolutely not familiar with this world. “But… I feel like I would have at least heard of a city of this size, even in passing.” With a shuddering breath I continued “Sorry- I just… I just realized how far away from home I am.”
The Gods, because what else could they be, in front of me all shared one more glance before the Elephant man walked up to the bars and joined Loki. Gone was his face splitting grin; Instead, there was a smaller, more sincere smile. “We probably should have started with names then, huh?”
His All Might-esque smile was back once more as he stuck a thumb to his chest. “I- Am- Ganesha! God of the Ganesha Familia, monster tamers extraordinaire! Though, I am here today under the authority granted to my Familia as this city's guardians!” He leaned slightly forward, and added much more softly “And what is your name young man?”
That… is a good question. Do I give them my old name, or do I introduce myself as Maedmux? There's probably nothing inherently wrong with admitting that I was once human, but at the same time- a large part of me just… doesn’t want to bother.
It might be easier in the long run to simply… be Maedmux, and lay myself aside, so to speak. To just fully embrace this new lease on life with arms wide open. I can’t exactly move on if I let my past haunt me like this. Not to mention, if I ever need to for some reason, I can always admit to once being human later. But I can't exactly put that genie back into the bottle once it's out.
So, I need to decide right now.
Am I a human soul puppeting a gnoll’s body?
Or am I Maedmux, a gnoll who literally met his maker and became more for it?
…
With a fortifying breath, I slowly clambered back to my feet. Put one hand over my heart, and gave a shallow curtsy; Though even from my bow, I still towered over everyone else in the room.
The words flowed naturally from my lips. “Greetings, Pack Lord Ganesha. My name is Maedmux Maddic Mokit Scurwin Scorchfur Menace Limpet, formerly of the Dustpaw pack of Turst Fields; Adopted son of Eldon Maddic, late of Westruun, and an adept ranked artificer. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
I rose from my bow to an utterly befuddled crowd. Agape mouths and wide eyes met my own as I scanned the room; Before looking back at Ganesha with a smile and extending my arm for a shake. “Though most people just call me Max.”
Ganesha stared at my paw for only a second before throwing his head back and laughing. Sticking his own arm through the gap in the bars, his hand met my own with a loud clap and a very enthusiastic shake. “Well met, Max!-”
Out of the corner of my eye I spotted all the guards wearing orange visibly tense when my hand met their God’s, but other than that they stayed silent.
Ganesha took the chance to introduce himself and each of his fellow Gods.
Freya and Loki, the contentious contenders for the title of strongest Familia, or God aligned adventuring group, in the city.
The Goddess, Hephaestus as well as the God Dian Cecht, the de-facto leaders of the smithing and healing factions within the city, respectively.
And wasn’t that a mind fuck? Leave it to the trashy harem world to gender-bend the God of The Forge into… That. Loki was also a chick, but honesty? From what little I know of Norse mythology, that kinda’ tracks.
The one in the black robe was only introduced as ‘Fels’ and was simply there as a representative of the head honcho of the city, Ouranos, who was ‘currently indisposed’.
The reason why the two crafting Gods were there at all was made evident when Dian Cecht, with a cocky smirk pulling at his lips, pulled out a vial of one of my elixirs from the pocket of his robe. I had to physically clamp a paw around my muzzle to choke back a snarl at the idea of these fuckers messing around with my things; Getting their dirty claws all over my equipment!
If the God noticed my rage at his thievery, he gamely ignored it as he held the potion up and gave it a little shake. “I was invited to assist in your case when the guards found a multitude of potions of unknown make or function on your… person.” The sneer in his voice could have been heard by the fucking deaf. “After a short investigation, it was found that these potions were extremely effective, and some had effects that were wholly unique-”
At that, not even an adamantium muzzle could have stopped the ferocious growl that exploded from my being, or the hissed words that followed. “You mother fucker, I brewed every single one of those potions. I know how much is in each vial down to the last millimeter. And if you wasted so much as a single fucking drop of any of them, I am going to shove my furry foot so far up your fuckin’ ass, that you will be coughing up fur balls for the rest of your miserable life.”
All I could hear was blood roaring in my ears; It felt like fire was coursing in my veins. All I wanted to do was tear my way through the bars with my bare paws and rip into this shithead until his blood soaked my claws, and his flesh filled my-.
-Oh, fuck me.
The incessant want to eat this man's flesh and chew on his bones snapped me back to myself. I could still feel the righteous anger boiling in my soul at this man for so grievously wronging me. But it was smothered by the nauseating knowledge that I wanted to eat another sentient being.
I guess that answers the question of whether or not I inherited the gnoll blood rage.
It only took seconds, literally a few words and flashing one of my things, to get me angry enough to consider cannibalism. I’m… I’m going to really need to work on my self-control.
A lot.
Damnit, do they even have therapists in anime purdah land?
I bit down on my hand hard, and just spent a minute or so carefully cycling my breathing before I felt calm enough to re-engage. At this point, the relaxed atmosphere that had been slowly building was thoroughly trashed, and all the guards had their hands firmly on their weapons.
Keeping as firm of a lid as I could on my emotions, I slowly ground out. “Which ones, and how much of them did you use?”
He hesitated a second before answering. “Well, of the health potions, I used up a flask of red liquid labeled ‘LG’ and another labeled ‘HG’ in their entirety, I figured they stood for ‘Low’ and ‘High’ grade respectively…” I opened my mouth to reply, but he quickly rushed to add “But don’t worry! Provided you are cleared of any wrongdoing, the Dian Cecht Familia will of course compensate you for the monetary value of all the potions tested!”
I simply stared at him in reply; Waiting for him to continue, but when he didn’t, I was forced to bring up the elephant in the room myself. “And of the other potions you used?”
With a flinch and refusal to meet my eyes, he muttered “I also tested an amber colored phial labeled with ‘FGS’ but was unable to ascertain its effects… And a completely clear potion labeled ‘INV’, the latter of which turned the rat I was testing on completely invisible; The effect lasted a full hour! I was going to ask you where you found such marvelous creations, but if you were the one to make them!-”
His voice had risen in excitement towards the end, before being cut off by a pointed cough from Freya.
But I just continued to stare at him.
And stare.
And stare.
And stare.
“You used…” horrified disbelief lacing every whispered word. “My one dose of the Invisibility potion… on a rat.”
With his hesitant nod, I slowly, slowly swung my head around to Loki, who was still leaning on the bars, her foxlike eyes dancing with endless amusement. “Miss Loki, can you please tell me, in your local currency, what the average cost would be for a single meal at a tavern?”
Her cheshire grin only grew larger as she answered, already knowing where I was going with this. “Most places round’ here probably cost, oh, about three hundred Valis a meal. A run-of-the-mill health potion would set ya’ back five hundred. And Hephaestus back there charges around a hundred and thirty mill’ for a custom weapon.”
I absently nodded my thanks as I ran the numbers in my head; My friends and I had once calculated what a single DnD GP would be in USD as a joke once, and we got about a hundred bucks or so per gold piece for a conversion. So, if I was to use local potion prices as a base, compared to the cost of a meal…
And if I already know that a DnD potion costs roughly five grand USD…
I swung my head back towards Dian, and with the flattest deadpan I could manage while simultaneously stomping down the fiery rage in my heart, I spoke. “You owe me a minimum seventeen million Valis.”
“S-seventeen-!” Dian immediately started sputtering in shock, but I interrupted him.
“A minimum of seventeen million. A potion of Invisibility with a dosage of one-hour retails at a minimum of five thousand gold pieces. With an exchange rate of about three thousand Valis per ‘GP’, that's fifteen mill’ right there. But in places without access to proper alchemists? I’ve seen them go for over twenty-five grand at auction. Add in the costs for the other potions you pissed away on vermin and well.” I leaned forward until I was eye level with the Fucker who wasted what could be completely priceless, irreplaceable potions if I can’t find comparable ingredients in this world. “You owe me a whole lot of money, Cecht.”
I ignored his stammered indignations and the chortling crowd (mostly Loki and her mooks) to look directly at Hephaestus. “And let me guess, you got pulled into this because of all my equipment, right? I don’t suppose you also were messing around with my things? Testing the durability of my tools by trying to break them over your knee, perhaps?”
Hephaestus merely scoffed at my question, but the small smile on her lips proved she found the by-play entertaining, at least. “I was asked to come in to take a look at your tools, yes. You take good care of your kit for a traveling smith, Mister Maddic.”
Not surprised in the slightest that the God-dess of the Forge knew a traveling craftsman when she saw one; I simply gave her a shallow bow in thanks. “I take great pride in my craft, Miss Hephaestus.”
She glanced over to a still red-faced Dian Cecht and snorted “Clearly.”
I looked at the rest of the Gods “So, where do we go from here? Have I proven that I’m not some random, mindless ‘monster’ yet? Are you going to let me out?”
They shared a look, before Ganesha spoke up. “Before I pass judgment, we have some questions for you, Max. And just to let you know, as the official Guardian of Orario, it is ultimately up to me whether or not you are granted access to the city. If I deem you too dangerous to be allowed within our walls, it will be the Denatus that decides your fate.”
A shiver ran up my spine at his use of ‘fate’, and the last vestiges of anger I was feeling was stamped out by fear as the reality of my position finally started to sink in. Not trusting my voice, I simply nodded, even if I wasn’t quite sure what the Denatus was.
“Excellent!” Ganesha clapped his hands together and pointed at one of the people that had followed him in. “Tivra here will be our official registrar for this interrogation and will be recording everything said by both parties from now on. Please note that this recording will be presented to the Denatus as part of the official report. And with that, let’s begin.”
He paused to take a breath, and I saw a change come over his being. The almost wrestling heel like personality was gone, and the cold steel of a veteran of a thousand wars defending his home had taken its place.
“On the twenty-third day of Thargelion in the year of the Gods Decent, one-thousand and two, an individual of unknown species was spotted approaching our city of Orario from the north-eastern gate. Nearby travelers, assuming the being was some breed of monster, attacked. The being in question surrendered without a fight, surprising the locals enough that they actually ceased their aggressions. The suspect was then taken into custody by on-duty Ganesha Familia members without further incident.”
“I, Ganesha, will personally be conducting this interview with the Gods and Goddesses Freya, Loki, Hephaestus, and Dian Cecht aiding me in a consultatory position as subject matter experts. Will the mortal being questioned please give their full name for the record.”
The rapid scratching of the registrar's quill on his scroll filled the room as Ganesha looked at me expectantly.
“Uh, do you want my full name? Or just my legal name? because my full name is more of a cultural thing than something I would sign on an official document…”
“In that case, only your legal name will suffice.”
“Ok Then, I am Maedmux ‘Max’ Maddic, née Dustpaw.”
Ganesha nodded with a hum, letting the scribe catch up, before continuing. “And where did you say you were from, Mister Maddic?”
I fought to ignore the spike of real heartache that question invoked while dutifully responding with Mux’s backstory. “I was born in the Village of Trust Fields, but I was raised in the city of Westruun. A provincial capital of the Republic of Tal’Dorei.”
Some of the other Gods gasped, no doubt detecting the ‘truth’ in my words. But if Ganesha was surprised by what he had heard, he didn’t show it. “I’m afraid I am not familiar with this ‘Tal’Dorei’... Can you please elaborate?”
I raised an eyebrow, knowing full well they wouldn’t, but I still needed to act the part. “You don’t know the continent Tal’Dorei? Maybe you know of it under a different name, like Gwessar?” As all the Gods, and a few of the guards shook their heads, I continued, injecting a bit of panic into my voice. “Issylra? Marquet?! Wildemount?! The Teeth?! None of them?!
“I'm afraid not, Mister Maddic.” Ganesha said soothingly, filling the weighty silence that followed my shouting. “Let's start smaller and work our way up from there. Like what do you do for a living?”
I thought it would be far harder to dredge up Maedmux’s completely fabricated backstory, but all the tiny details and facts that I wrote to satisfy my slave driver of a DM seemed to come to me with almost supernatural ease.
Pretending to take a moment to gather myself, I gave them a sheepish smile. “Well, I am currently a, uh- transient artificer; But I held the rank of sergeant when I served as a senior Battlesmith with the Shields of the Plain, Westruuns volunteer militia.”
Both Ganesha and Hephaestus raised an eyebrow at the term Battlesmith, but it was Ganesha who spoke first. “We’ll come back to your time in the service in a moment, but that is the second time you’ve used the term ‘artificer’, could you please elaborate?”
“Sure.” I nodded, obviously these guys probably just call their magic craftsmen something generic like ‘enchantors’, or something, so it’ll only be a matter of clearing up semantics. “An artificer is a multifaceted craftsman who specializes in manufacturing enchanted or magical goods and equipment for a wid-”
My textbook description of the class was interrupted by a loud crack. My head snapped up at the unexpected noise to see the registrar standing there with a broken quill and ink dripping down the scroll in their hands. An absolutely gobsmacked expression on his face. In fact, everyone was staring at me like I had grown a second head.
“What? Do you guys not have anything similar?” Why the hell are they looking at me like that? There's no way a setting like Danmachi doesn’t have magic weapons!
It was Hephaestus who spoke this time, an evaluating gleam in her eye. “Magical weapon creation is a pretty advanced Skill, Mister Maddic. If you wouldn’t mind me asking, what level are you?”
Oh- that's right! They did have levels here, didn’t they? They showed the protagonist leveling up via that loli Goddess straddling him and using a magic tramp stamp or something… God, did I mention how much I hate the fact that I apparently ended up in some PG-thirteen, head empty- drown in OPPAI anime yet?
Though, if there are levels here, maybe this place isn’t as divorced from DnD as I remembered…
“I don’t mind at all Miss Hephaestus, I recently made level eight as an artificer a few weeks ago.”
X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X