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To Each Their Own

 “Ten gold for the shit you smashed, ten gold for the custom armor, and a three gold inconvenience charge,” the dryad holds up a new finger each time she lists off a charge. After making sure the wyvern scale armor was undamaged, its attitude made a 180 degree turn.

“No,” I reply in an absolute tone. I only have 25 gold and no desire to waste it all here.

“It isn’t a discussion!” The dryad raises its voice, tugging on its braid in irritation.

“Fine,” I narrow my eyes at the brat, rethinking my decision to not kick its ass. “23 gold total correct? I’ll pay it, but to keep quiet about your little practice sessions, I’ll need some motivation. About… 30 gold motivation?”

Fucking antler-eared leafy little brat. I still need a spear and a shield. Not to mention one of those fancy little dimensional storage bags, if I have enough left-over cash. Everything I’ve bought so far has been on Guild credit, so I don’t have a great idea of what money is worth around here. That being said, I’m pretty fucking certain this little twerp is trying to screw me over.

Oh, and I’m pretty sure my soul contract said something about handing over 50% of my earnings to the Guild. So technically I don’t even have 25 gold. I have 12.5 gold. Or is that 12 gold and 50 silver? Damn it. I should’ve asked Quinn to explain money to me before I went shopping.

“Hell no!” The dryad screeches. “I will not work for free! I’ve got bills to pay! Do you know how hard it is to make money around here?! The price of metal armor plummeted weeks ago. No one wants to buy natural material armor when metal armor is so cheap!”

“That’s not my problem!” I argue. “Look, maybe we can work something out that doesn’t involve money.”

The dryads expression goes from shock, to understanding, before finally settling on disgust. Its lips curl up in a sneer. Its hooded eyes look me up and down, but seem to find no redeeming quality.

“Oh,” the single syllable word drips with disdain. “You’re one of THOSE.”

I open my mouth to try and clear up whatever this misunderstanding is, but it doesn’t let me get a word in sidewise.

“Look, I get it. You were written that way. I’m especially attractive to you because by your species’ standards I’m far older than the age of consent,” the dryads disgust turns into an expression of pity and understanding. I think I preferred the disgust. “Its not like I’m not tempted. You are a very attractive man and I was written as a woman. But the truth is, like my tree I am asexual. Even if I was a sexual creature, my tree is not ready to reproduce and neither am I.”

Okay. This is getting weird. On the bright side, I now know that the dryad is a girl. I’ll make sure to file that information away for proper word usage when I’m cussing her out for being a stingy bitch.

“I-,” I try to explain myself but she interrupts me again.

“No. I know what you’re going to say and the answer is no,” the waves a hand, casually dismissing whatever she thinks it is I was going to say. “I’m not interested in practicing how to reproduce either. It just doesn’t appeal to me.”

“STOP!” I can’t take it anymore. “You’ve got it all wrong! Ugh. I don’t even know where to begin to explain how wrong you are!”

“There is no need to be ashamed of-“

“No! I meant something like more extensive battle magic training. Or like providing a sparring partner for you,” I talk as fast as I can, before she can say something even worse. “I’m seeing someone and my tastes don’t swing your direction.”

“Oh,” she doesn’t look convinced. “Whatever helps you deal with rejection, I suppose. Anyway, the sparring partner sounds reasonable, but I have no interest in ice magic.”

“I was thinking more like my understandings of the application of Source,” I choose to ignore her comment about rejection. “For example, did you know you can imbue magical constructs with will and intelligence?”

“Like enchanting? Cause I already know how to do that,” she responds dismissively, pointing to a matching bone sword and shield combo. “Seem that? The shield absorbs kinetic energy which is transferred to the sword through that bone chain connecting them. The sword can then release the additional energy at will.”

Oh, that is cool as hell. Alright, new plan. Get her to make me the armor and throw in a shield/spear set with that same enchantment. Okay, just gotta get Wisp to make an impressive appearance and then spout some bullshit about imbuing a core with as much magic as possible as well as a purpose.

“No, that’s not it,” I say, playing it cool. “Can we go down to your basement so I can show you?”

“Down to my basement huh? I already told you I’m not interested. You’re not the first of your kind that I’ve met so don’t expect me to fall for any tricks.”

“Your literal basement! I fucking swear. I don’t want to destroy any more of your merchandise.”

“Mhmmm, sure. Sure. Whatever you say.”

***

Half an hour later I leave the shop, completely satisfied. The little dryad, who actually refers to herself as Bonehammer, had been thoroughly impressed by Wisp’s intelligence and battle prowess. In exchange for some cryptic Source usage advice, 10 gold, and Fear as sparring partner she agreed to make me the armor as well as a shield/spear combo with the kinetic enchantment.

I attached a mana cure from her stores to the blood crystal necklace I made. I wasn’t entirely sure about having the necklace skim off of her emotions to power Fear, so I instructed her to feed the mana core with Source to operate the suit of Ice Armor. The blood crystal necklace and Fear were instructed to obey her wishes as long as they were in her possession.

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All in all, not a bad deal.

Thankfully it is still light out, so I have some time to swing by the Guild Library. Reading has always been my favorite pastime. With all this training and fighting I haven’t had enough time to really sit down and read something interesting.

I’d like to justify burying myself in a dozen novels, but for now I need books with practical advice. Ideally, some spear technique manuals, a history of this world and the Dungeon, as well as books on Source and its applications.

Nevasca pads along at my side as we walk down familiar halls to the Library. Kandra follows further behind. She keeps stopping to pose and preen, gathering as much attention as possible. It’s good that I set limits against her taking a humanoid form. I can only imagine the kind of attention she could get if she was walking around as a woman.

Admiring the aesthetic beauty of a colorful slime/bird is a far cry from the creepy attention she would receive as a nude slime woman. I love being a man, but dammit if Bonehammer didn’t remind me that we can be creepy sometimes.

I release a sigh, and push the doors of the Library open. Normally I’d take my time browsing the books, but I only have a few hours of sunlight to burn before I have to meet up with my party. I approach the large circular desk situated in the center of library, surrounded by spiraling staircases leading up to multiple floors and balconies, covered in shelves of books.

“Hello?” I call out to the rotound man scribbling away behinf the desk. He glances up at the sound of my voice, readjusting the glasses perched on his stubby nose.

“May I help you?” he asks in a nasal voice.

“Yes. I am looking for books on spear fighting, magic, and history.” I keep my reponse simple and straight to the point.

Thankfully, the man has the same attitude of not wasting time. “Copies of books describing skills are available at a price of one gold apiece. Books of magic and history are only available with the Guildmaster’s express permission.”

“If there is no history or magic, then what is in all of these books?” I wave a hand to the walls of books surrounding us. Seriously, almost all of us have lives revolving around magic. What could possibly be in these books?

“Specific mentions of history and magic are redacted, by the command of the Guildmaster,” I can see sorrow in the man’s eyes as he tells me this. Well, I can see the sorrow in his aura for sure. “Before you say anything, I just work here. I’m just as upset as you are, if not more so.”

Well, I guess that makes up my decision for me. For a while now I’ve been trying to decide what I should do once I escape from the Guilmaster’s grasp. Originally, I had planned to learn from the experience and move on. Now, however, it has become clear to me that the Guildmaster must die a horrible death.

Ruining books is an unforgivable crime.

“Show me where the skill books are, please,” I tuck away my determination for a later date. Before anything else, I must first get strong enough to do what I want.

***

Quinn gently shut the large embellished doors behind her. The Guildmaster had been none too pleased about losing Ra’hel, who he had considered a potential asset. However, the growth of Snowflake as a formidable fighter helped to assuage his anger.

Most of the details of their adventure had been kept under wraps by Quinn, but she did explain the Dungeon’s berserk state. The Guildmaster had interrogated her about it, but there wasn’t much she could tell him. The Floor Masters had made a rare appearance, and their group had defeated them. They even went as far as binding two of them as familiars.

The Guildmaster had been particularly impressed by this feat. Quinn had made sure to embellish on Snowflake’s fighting prowess, impressing his importance to the Guildmaster. Her hope was that the if Snowflake is perceived as valuable enough, the Guildmaster would mediate the conflict with her husband.

Deep down Quinn knows that she won’t be able to hide the truth from her husband for long. Her best hope is that he stays away on his mission long enough for Snowflake to grow and mature in power. A hand, reaching out from the shadows, dashed her hopes.

“Hello, my love,” Quinn yelps as her bottom in roughly pinched. A tall man with dark features emerges from the shadows. A neatly groomed, pitch black beard draws attaention to his solid chin and sharp jawline. Pure white teeth contrast against dark olive skin as he breaks into a charming smile.

“I missed you,” he says, pulling her into an embrace. Silently, Quinn wonders to herself how she always manages to forget how handsome and charming he is.

“I missed you too,” she whispers, leaning in for a kiss. Half of her tells herself that she is lying to keep him happy. Half of her suspects the truth.

Arm in arm, they walk down the halls to his office, chatting about their recent adventures.

“And it turned out, that the one we killed as an example was the leader after all!” his voice booms with laughter as he recounts the story of his conquest.

‘It’s just an act,’ she tells herself as she pretends to hang on his every word, but the act comes oh so easily. Perhaps it’s the routine of familiarity. Perhaps.

“I’ve been waiting for you to get back to give you a gift,” he tells her, right before stealing a kiss.

“Oh?” She exclaims, trying to not sound excited.

“With this last quest for the Guild, I got the Guildmaster to make me something special,” he grins that charming grin of his, showing off his perfect teeth. “I know how much you’ve missed being able to fly, sooo…”

With a flourish, he reaches into his desk and pulls out a ring. The ring’s surface is covered in glowing runes, denoting it as both an object of beauty and power. The pure amount of Source she can feel being consumed by that thing tells Quinn it is the bearer of a mighty enchantment.

“What is it?” she gasps, breathlessly.

“Oh, nothing,” he fiddles with the ring idly. “Just a little something to adjust the force of gravity at will. Pretty simple stuff honestly.”

Quinn’s heart flutters with joy. For so long she had yearned to fly like she used to. Soar through the sky, free. Now that dream is finally about to come true.

“This is yours, as soon as you do me a little favor,” he purrs, running the back of his hand along her face.

“For you, my love, anything,” she says, tears sparkling in her eyes.

Without warning, the light stroke turns into a back handed slap, knocking Quinn to the ground.

“Do you think I wouldn’t know?!” He hisses. “I can smell him on you! Another man! You slut. Every inch of freedom I give you, you use to betray my trust.”

“No! No, baby, it’s not what you think,” Quinn cringes on the floor, hands up to protect her face. The tears no longer sparkle in her eyes, but flow down her cheeks instead.

“You can’t lie to me, Quinn.” He looms over her. “Do you think being the Truthseeker taught me nothing? I trusted you, but you betray me, again and again.”

“It was a mistake,” she clings to his leg, looking up to him with pleading eyes. She remembers now. She has been in this position before. He promised it would never happen again, and she believed him. Again, and again she believed him. Experience had taught her that now was the time to make things better, before they get much worse.

“Prove it to me, prove it was a mistake.” He demands, fiddling with the ring. “As much as I enjoy punishing you after these outburst Quinn, I grow weary of the games. Prove to me once and for all that you love me and I’ll set you free. If you don’t I’ll have to ensure you never fall temptation to another man again.”

“Just tell me what you want me to do, my love. I’ll do anything!” Her chest heaves as the gasps for air between sobs.

“Quinn,” he slowly unbuckles his belt, pulling it out from around his waist. “You say the same thing every time. Haven’t you learned by now that there is nothing you can do to resist me.”

“Baby, please. Please don’t hurt me. I love you. I love you so much,” her hands tear at his leg as she begs.

“Shhh, shhh now,” He lays his free hand gently on her head. “I’ll give you a chance to earn forgiveness. For now, be a good girl and accept your punishment. Go lock the door and take your clothes off. If you impress me with how sorry you are, I might still give you that ring after all.”

Quinn’s screams were not heard from behind the soundproofing of the door.