Chapter Seven
Off went the maid’s uniform, and on went Harmony’s travel clothes. It was good to have pants on. The insistence that she trained in uniform was ridiculous. Whenever she felt she might warm up to Lord Tyler, he did something like that.
She still felt naked, even covered enough to be mistaken for a young boy. That feeling had driven her to change quickly but stuck through putting on the travel clothes. A low level of anxiety gripped her as she ran her hands along her outfit, trying to figure out why. Was it being alone with Tyler? No. The new skill throbbed inside her. She was dressed, but nothing she had on counted as armor. A part of her was un-actionable. The wrongness of that gripped her soul after adding the new skill. She hadn’t packed anything that could be armor. She snatched the magically tempered crystal ball out of the bottom of the bag and shoved it into her pocket. It could probably take one blow if she needed and that thought calmed the feeling some, but it was still like slapping a hand over a gushing wound.
Hyacinth hopped out of the dark corner of the room. She might have missed the toad if she didn’t know it so well. His rough black skin looked thicker. She reached down and touched it. The toad purred at the touch, and Harmony could tell it was harder, not unlike a layer of bone, enough that she felt like she could modify it if she wished. “That’s new.”
“Gurrp.”
Harmony closed her eyes and focused on her new skill [Small Armor]. Hints of synergy with [Familiar Bond] hadn’t been there before flickered about. Now she felt her partner pull through it, a path of energy connecting the two. Hyacinth took but gave as well, strengthening the new skill. “As I get stronger, so do you. Exactly as it should be.”
On the other side of the shared lodge, the clanking rattle of Tyler disengaging his armor could be heard. The perfect time for her to slip out, toad in tow.
The pair walked out of the lodge area and into the main thoroughfare of the dungeon district. Young adventurers crowded the wide street, armed, armored, and dressed in fantastical styles related to their hometowns, villages, or nations. The dungeon was the lifeblood of the Hazeldown economy. Perfect for people to send their youths to gain their first set of class levels. As bitter as some got needing to donate all their dead to the dungeon, it was what kept the silver flowing in.
Harmony didn’t feel so out of place, having her shadow toad follow her as exotic companions shared the street. Wyverns and hawks gilded above. A young boy sat riding his white dire wolf. Even a tiny bear lumbered like a person with a red hat, blue coat, and yellow boots. Her eyes went wide at a mechanical spider carefully moving through the crowd. Pets, Familiars, and constructs peppered the public as status symbols, matters of utility, or core aspects of adventurer’s classes. It had been over a year and three levels ago since the necromancer had last been here to work on advancing.
Vendors lined the street buying and selling dungeon drops or anything interesting a tourist brought in.
Not in a hurry, Harmony kept one eye on the wares. Little flares of desire popped up at bits of armor as her skill sought something more fitting than the glass tool she’d shoved into her pocket to appease it. Being a Maid of a manor did not pay well enough to allow her to get the shiniest items.
Her time with Tyler’s collection had given her an eye for the unusual, the special, and the unique. Street vendors received and pushed products as quickly as possible to grind a profit and increase their profession levels. The Popularity of Thibodeux’s teachings extended well past combat moves. A vendor’s eyes locked on hers, and she could see a sparkling shine. She felt nudged in that direction. A skill from the merchant taking hold of her briefly. Yes, she could ignore it, but she recognized the feeling.
[Destined deal] It connected a merchant with a buyer. You want something, and they have it, bam, you’re drawn in, and hopefully, both parties leave happy. The fact that Harmony knew she was thinking about a bit of armor, affordable and ideally as remarkable as anything Tyler owns, cemented her decision to cave to the skill’s call. After all, the merchant never knew precisely what the customer wanted, so the skill, through its magic, tugged the strings of fate and desire.
“Welcome, young man. I can see that I have something that might interest you as you work on gaining your early levels. At Jake’s Magical Stand, we have everything from basic tools to mysterious artifacts sure to please you.”
Sometimes you want to be mistaken for a boy, like now. “Show me the mystery!” She announced eagerly, trying to make her voice as neutral as a young boy’s.
Mystery generally meant items that either required high levels of an identification spell or something those skills barely worked on. Most of the time junk. Harmony’s [Analyze] was able to identify something about half of the items the merchant slowly placed on the table. Either the merchant’s identification was low, or he assumed the buyer was. Shopping, a game of haggling, deception, and luck, the necromancer hoped to use all three.
“Does the mystery call to you?” The young man, who she guessed was Jake, lifted a carved bit of wood she’d already identified as an uncharged smell wand. When she looked unmoved, he raised a card with a painted image of a boy in a golden bubble, which also drew no interest.
Nothing on the table called to her [Small Armor] skill. “Do you have anything hard or defensive? Maybe with a bit of metal?”
Jake ducked back behind the stand and started pulling out more. Again [Analyze] managed to pull up information from most of the items for Harmony. She nearly dismissed it all but returned her eyes to a lonely glove, fingerless but with a solid plate of gray metal on the back of the hand. [Analyze} showed it as Glove: Paired.
Her skill was neutral. Like it screamed, acceptable, in the face of the unacceptable placeholder the crystal ball represented. None of the eager flashes she had seen simply from glancing at other more established vendors’ bits of armor they had displayed this evening. That was unusual enough in the short span she had the skill for it to be interesting. More so was the term paired. Fragments of knowledge from old books. The word wasn’t only associated with needing two of something, like socks; when you [Analyze] a lone sock, it simply said sock. Items could be paired with skills, crafted for a purpose, or built to grow and adapt. Then again, [Small Armor] wasn’t interested, and paired might mean it needed the other glove for more details.
With her hands out and not suspiciously shoved into a pocket for the transaction, the naked feeling crawled up her skin without the crystal ball to partially hold it back. “How much for the glove?” at this point, acceptable would do.
“One silver,” Jake answered quickly.
“It’s one glove. Looks like someone damaged it by cutting off the fingers. It even says it’s missing the other one. One copper and the benefit of it no longer taking up your inventory space.”
“It’s unique.” With a flourish, he pulled out a knife and scraped it down the middle of the metal backing. Sparks flew from the friction, but the metal wasn’t scored. “Look at that toughness.”
“Unique doesn’t mean good. If it was unique, it would appear that way when inspected. Also, how can it be unique if it’s missing the other part of the pair? There could be dozens of these abandoned in some dusty store room. Three copper.”
Stolen novel; please report.
She saw the twitch of him starting a skill, bargaining, or getting a read on her. [Poise and Bearing] activated. The skills clashed. The social skill would make him draw a blank. If it was to influence her, the rush of activation tended to counter being influenced. She’d practiced enough time against a skilled beggar’s skills to not be overtaken.
“Fine. Three copper.” He said with some defeat, enough to make Harmony wonder if he’d have settled for two, as it had the tone of an actor’s lies.
[Small Armor] wouldn’t have her wait. dropping the coins on the stand, Harmony slid on the glove. Whatever twitch of nakedness she had felt earlier bled away. That was worth three coppers to her as she returned to the crowd more confidently.
Harmony wondered if The Dig Boys would recognize her after a year, but it wasn’t like she grew any taller. The gyms they operated out of loomed ahead. Gyms serviced the dungeon grinders that couldn’t afford the adventurer guild. Little communities that competed with each other, Gym Viridian housed The Dig Boys and a few other groups. Bates had recommended them when she’d asked around the household for a friendly escort to help her gain class levels that were in her budget, and she’d used them ever since.
At the door, she flashed the token Mike had given her after her last dive with him and the one copper entrance fee.
Hooting and hollering preceded her arrival at the gym training yard. Copper and silver flashed in raised fists as a circle of people surrounding a match. At gyms, this is often what training devolved into, entertainment, gambling, and fighting. People who felt they were real adventurers often turned their noses at them, but Harmony found it exciting. She squeezed into the crowd.
It wasn’t people at the center of the ring. Two pets warily faced each other. Jack’s giant gray centipede screeched. It had grown at least another foot in length since the necromancer had last seen it. She didn’t recognize the creature it faced, a collection of vines, leaves, and thorns in the shape of a man, swaying, taking steps, a plant unrooted from the ground.
“How dare you call my mother a lumberjack!” The plant responded with a haughty voice.
“It speaks!” She yelped, a little surprised. Pets that could speak were rare. Pets with abilities like that rarely fought in unsanctioned matches.
“That means it’s not going to have the stats distributed in a way it needs to win this match, as well as useless skills like [nature’s voice] so it can understand Chompers.”
Harmony’s eyes were too glued to the match to respond to the stranger. Vines snapped like whips while the insect nimbly dodged them, dancing aside on its many legs. Plate-sized leaves whose edges glinted like razors came next, and Chompers dove under them in a move that was only possible by sinking into the ground most of the way.
Earth exploded out in a wave at the many-legged pet’s emergence, showering the plant man, slowing him enough for the bug to take a bite out of his side, leaving a sticky green wound. Vines shot out of the body, whipping about, leaving like scratches on the centipede’s hard shell, forcing it back to the other side of the makeshift arena.
“I am no easy meat. I am not meat at all.”
A thick cloud of pollen pushed out from the green man. Chompers couldn’t avoid it. Even the circle of gym members had to step back. The yellow coating covered the bug, and it shivered and shook in response, knocking some off but not enough. The pollen transformed into tiny growths that crawled across the carapace.
Chompers shrieked loud enough that Harmony was forced to cover her ears.
“I have you now.” The green man announced, growing a long leaf blade in his hand and stepping forward. He raised the gleaming green sword, and as it reached the apex, Chompers struck.
The insect’s burst of speed launched it through the air and into the viney pet, coiling and wrapping around the man with its many legs stabbing into the green mass of the body, strangling and impaling it at the same time.
“Victory, Chompers!” Announced a woman off to the side.
Quickly the pets disentangled, and the owners rushed to them, a young girl with white hair to the Greenman and Jack from The Dig Boys to his centipede. Harmony was closer to the Greenman.
“Sorry I failed you, darling.” The Greenman said softly.
“It’s okay, Beardy.” The girl answered with a hug.
Coins exchanged hands as bets were settled. The woman who refereed the match bellowed again. “That’s it for tonight’s matches. If the commission comes calling, remember the number one rule of the pet fighting club.”
“No talking about pet fighting club!” The crowd yelled back.
Harmony made her way through the now dispersing crowd to the faces she recognized. Many of The Dig Boys crowded around Jack, congratulating him. She couldn’t help but notice the one who was missing.
She slowly walked up to them, gathering her courage. This hadn’t been an outing she had planned until Tyler made leaving a necessity. Hyacinth kept pace with his hops, the toad sending reassuring vibes through their bond. “Jack, I don’t know if you remember..”
The battle winner’s eyes went to the necromancer. “Harm, how could I forget our little escort that helped save our hides after a run went south. Maybe you’ve grown half an inch, to your toad’s four. What are you doing here?”
“I have another dive and was hoping to talk with Mike.”
“He’s not here. Went to the capitol. Hoping to pick up a stamina-type skill stone and evolve his class. Hit level fifteen, and the dungeon won’t let him get past that hump. He’ll always have a spot with The Dig Boys, but I’m not sure he’ll be coming back.”
Harmony could hear a mix of sadness and envy in his voice that brought up the same emotions in her. Bringing up the topic brought similar looks to the other group members. Life was about progressing forward, and rarely did one ever go backward, let alone to a town that ate you after you died.
A younger group member who Harmony knew she hadn’t met before spoke up. “It’s okay, Harm. As an honorary Viridian. The Dig Boys are here to help!”
Mumbles of agreement and an enthusiastic “Yeah!” came from the group.
Jack nodded.
Harmony noticed Jack wearing the badge she’d seen on Mike, denoting him the leader. Mike left without so much as a message, and Harmony clamped down on the emotions that were brought up. Seeing him would have been nice, but it wasn’t her goal. “I managed to get in with a guild group. They’ll help level me to twelve.” She said.
“Careful. Those groups use up and chew up non-guildies. Farrow lost a leg being a trap finder on the fourth floor for a guild team .” Jack said.
“They’re equipping me some, even providing me skill stones for my free skill slots.”
The group collectively inhaled. “For that, you kind of have to go. We only find a skill stone once a month in Old Bones. We sent Mike the four we saved for trading for what he needs in the capital.”
“I didn’t think they were that rare?” She hadn’t seen them find any the few times she went in, but then she’d only paid to stick to the first two levels until their last one when they braved level three.
“Maybe not for adventurers who clear the dungeon a few times and move on. But we only stick to the first two or three levels for groups helping level locals or escorting tourists wanting easy gains, so we rarely see them. Always more people wanting to fill skill slots than skill stones around. You’d be hard-pressed to find anyone to turn down an offer of skill stones, even if it meant a little risk.”
Harmony contemplated how living at the manor had shielded her from some harsh realities that others faced. Tyler’s chalices filled with skill stones showed how much more the haves have than the have-nots.
She swore she wouldn’t be just a maid forever.
“It’s okay that you have to use them over us. We’re not equipped to do serious dungeoneering right now. That’s why I’m training Chompers for pet commission battles to earn real money.”
The gentle bloodsport of pet battles was the other attraction in Hazeldown. The commission helped ensure the pets’ safety, and the populace gets entertainment and maybe a chance to move up without risking life and limb in the dungeon. Ambrosia despised it, and Harmony suspected it had to do with her class creating a closer connection with her pets. Even if they took Familiars, the necromancer knew she wouldn’t risk Hyacinth. As for an undead pet, if it was already dead, did it matter?
“Tell me about it?” Harmony asked. Learning more about their dreams and aspirations was better than returning to the lodge and Tyler.
Hyacinth projected a deep sense of boredom and hunger at his bonded partner as time dragged on. “Grrrup”
“Fine, but no pets, only strays.” She replied.
Now hunting. That was never boring. The toad hopped off to the shadows. A new part of town, a new set of prey not wary for he who croaks in the dark.