Nick Smith

Adventurer Level: 7

Human – American

It hadn't taken us the full week to set out thanks to Liath's familiarity with the Empire of Calkuti. I only had to wait three days before we hit the road. It was much easier to bear than Nash's training. Every time we stopped for lunch, he would drill me on the basics and then have me attempt to copy his movements. Then he would attack me while I tried to use the movements he demonstrated to parry him.

It hadn't gone well, and he was getting grumpier with each failed session. Soon he would reach a critical mass of grumpiness and either explode or implode, likely taking the whole solar system with him. A super nova or black hole powered completely by grumpiness.

Thankfully, our journey was nearing its end. For now, at least. The first signs of civilization came into view, and I decided to take a brief nap to speed things along. When I awoke we were on city streets. Buildings of stone and metal surrounded us, and dwarves were going about their daily routines.

Well, mostly dwarves. Every now and then there would be a gnome, orc, or elf doing something but they were few and far between. It was easy to tell that this was a dwarven city even without the obvious architecture differences from the other cities I'd been to.

"So where are we headed, Liath?" Nash asked.

"Figured I'd drop you at the Venator's Bureau so you can ask around while I park the cart," our dwarven driver answered. "I'll meet you there once I'm done."

"Venator's Bureau?" I asked. "Is that like the Adventurer's Guild?"

"Sort of. The VB is focused on monsters and doesn't usually take requests, though. The other big differences are that they only do contracts and don't allow solo adventurers to sign up. You need to be in a party of at least three and sign a contract to do work for them."

"Why are we asking them questions instead of going to the Adventurer's Guild?"

"Because the AG is on the whole other fuckin' side of town," Liath laughed. "Plus, the AG is a lot less focused on dungeons around here. They focus more on requests, which usually end up being protection or gathering jobs. That's mostly because the dungeons in Calkuti don't have much treasure, so the profit is strictly in monster guts. So if you want to know all there is to know about dungeons, the VB is your best bet. And here they are!"

The cart rolled to a stop in front of a building that looked similar to the others, but with a lot more gold trim. Thanks to the tables and chairs off to the side of the building, it gave off a tavern-like aura. We hopped out of the cart, and Liath gave us a wave before he took off down the road again.

"Well, the dwarf's logic seems sound," Nash muttered. "Let's find somebody who works here."

We entered the building and the tavern vibe immediately intensified. The inside of the Venator's Guild looked almost exactly like the taverns often depicted in video games and anime, right down to the bar and patrons.

The only real difference was the amount of gold trim. There was a lot more of it on the inside than there was on the outside. I couldn't tell if we'd walked into a booze-hall or a treasure vault.

Once a few patrons did their obligatory double-takes at my appearance, the room went quiet. Thankfully, it felt more like a shocked silence than a suspicious one. Nash chuckled as we approached the bartender and or receptionist. The orc behind the bar watched us approach while shuffling some papers.

"Greetings," he said. "Pleasure or business?"

"Business," I replied. "We'd like information on the dungeons around here."

Nash gave me an annoyed glance while I stepped forward and took a seat at the bar.

"Yeah, we can do that. You able to read?"

"Not any languages that anybody seems to write in," I laughed.

"Fair enough. Figured you weren't from around here. Y'all want a drink while you ask your questions?"

"Yes," Yulk said. "Whatever's on tap will be fine."

"Any allergies?"

We looked at each other and shook our heads.

"Good, four meads comin' up."

The bartender busied himself with pouring the drinks while Nash, Yulk, and Olmira took their seats. I watched as he poured, wondering if I should say anything about my age. After he poured the second glass, all the conditioning my mother had instilled within me finally kicked in.

"You know, back home I'm not old enough to drink alcohol," I said.

"How old are you?" Olmira asked.

"Eighteen. Well, last I checked."

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"Eighteen years old and doesn't know how to parry properly," Nash sighed. "Your people must have it pretty damn easy."

"Is it a cultural taboo, or a medical necessity?" Yulk asked.

"Cultural, I think. Legal drinking age in my country is twenty-one, but in other countries it's lower. Plus, the law doesn't prohibit parents giving you alcohol. At least, not in my state."

"Your country has multiple countries?" Olmira asked. "Like an empire?"

Before I could answer, four mugs slid down the bar and slowed to a stop in front of each of us one by one. My eyes widened as the bartender returned to his previous position. Olmira and my brothers seemed unimpressed, though.

"How'd you do that?" I asked.

"Practice," the orc smirked. "So, what are you wanting to know?"

"How many dungeons are nearby?" Nash asked.

"Only the one. It was considered neutralized until just a few hours ago, actually."

"Neutralized?"

"Well, the last time the dungeon was spewing monsters was over a decade ago. Contractors that went to explore it reported traps and kobolds who seemed to have a leader, but no loot or monsters worth a damn."

"Kobolds aren't worth anything?"

"Maybe to a collector, but you get a lot more of the good stuff from their bigger cousins, and you don't have to listen to them yap at you. Plenty of folk take issue with hunting things that talk, too. Since the kobolds weren't botherin' anybody, the decision was made to leave well enough alone."

"What are the kobold's bigger cousins?" I asked.

"Reptians and Sauroids. Reptians are about as big as I am and have a neurotoxic venom that causes a total body paralysis, which can lead to death via asphyxiation. They travel in groups, have six inch claws, and hunt by spitting their venom at their victim and ripping them to shreds once they're paralyzed. Sauroids are much bigger, and kinda look like a mix between a kobold and a troll. With a much bigger mouth, though. They're solitary ambush predators that usually try to eat their victims whole. Both make for damn good hunts."

"So why is the dungeon no longer considered neutralized?" Nash asked.

"We've been having a bunch of disappearances. Far more than normal. A couple from here in town, but mostly out on the road near the dungeon. Couple of adventurers found evidence that the victims had been taken into the dungeon, so we sent some of our own to check it out," he gestured over to the corner.

My gaze followed his wave and saw a massive orc, three dwarves, an elf, and upright lizard that was happily eating a chunk of meat. It was my turn for an obligatory double-take.

"They brought back a kobold that claims the dungeon has been taken over by vampires. At least seven of them. The Western Wasters are brave, but not stupid. That's far too many vampires for five adventurers to handle. They made their way back to report, and we reclassified the dungeon as active."

A somber silence settled over us at the mention of vampires. Rayzun had spared no detail when he explained what had happened in our absence. My first thought was that the vampire that had led the drow may have taken refuge in the dungeon, but Rayzun had said that half-breed vampires aren't able to make more. Something weird is going on here.

"Do you think the disappearances in town were due to the vampires?" Nash asked.

"I don't know. It's hard to believe that they could make it through the gates, especially since there's a nightly curfew."

An odd feeling, like a soft nudge, tugged at the back of my mind. Too many coincidences. We're looking for dungeons that were inhabited by the cult, my brothers' homeland was attacked by a vampire, and there's a dungeon with vampires on our first stop. I couldn't shake the feeling that it's been waiting for us, somehow.

"We should talk to them," I said. "I feel like this might be the dungeon we're after."

"You gonna to take a drink of your mead, first?" Nash grinned.

I looked at my untouched mug of mead. My friends back home hadn't been the type to throw parties with booze, so the only time I'd ever had any was the beer my dad shared with me on my eighteenth birthday. The bitter taste of the beer echoed in my mouth, and I felt my stomach churn.

"Y-yeah, of course," I said, picking up the mug.

'Don't worry, I'll prevent inebriation,' Ten said.

'Thanks.'

I took a deep breath and chugged the contents of the mug. It was much sweeter than I expected, but it burned a little going down. Once the mug was finished, I set it down and wiped my mouth. Once my sleeve left my mouth, a loud burp forced its way out.

"Nice," the bartender chuckled.

Nash raised his eyebrows as Yulk paid for the drinks.

"Hope you stay on your feet after that," he said.

"It'll be fine," Yulk said. "We're not going to be heading out immediately. If he ends up drunk he can sleep it off."

"If?"

"Yes. It's possible that Ten will intervene."

"That's cheating," Nash grumbled.

Damn, Yulk saw right through me. I pushed the mug towards the bartender with a chuckle, and heard a muffled voice.

-Toxin Resistance unlocked-

Really? That feels a little cliche. Well, I guess the cliche would be more along the lines of someone with superpowers being unable to get drunk because of a resistance to poisons, rather than unlocking it while drinking. As I tried to think of an example of someone gaining a resistance to toxins from drinking booze, an evil thought occurred to me.

"I... uh... I just unlocked a skill," I said innocently. "It's called toxin resistance."

"I stand corrected," Nash replied angrily. "THAT'S cheating."

The sour expression on my adopted brother turned trainer's face filled me with a sick glee. Seeing jealousy twist his features completely made up for all of the recent bruising. Yulk chuckled and shook his head.

"Well, that's a handy skill to have," he said. "I would note that it says resistance rather than immunity, though."

I pulled up the skill information and relayed it to them.

--

Toxin Resistance

Allows a user to resist 25% of the negative effects of a poison or venom.

--

"It doesn't have a cooldown or duration, either," I added. "I guess that means it's always active."

"That does sound like a handy skill to have," the bartender said, grabbing my mug and putting it in a sink behind him.

I suddenly became aware of how weird this must look to the poor orc. Something he's never seen before comes up to his bar, asks strangely coincidental questions about dungeons, then downs a mug of mead and gains a new skill. And in the face of these odd events he's managed to maintain his professionalism.

He didn't ask what I am or act suspicious of me at all. To him, I'm just another customer. I reached under my cuirass and pulled a gold coin out of my coin pouch. I placed the coin on the bar and slid it towards him.

"Thanks for the drinks. You can keep the change," I said. "I didn't catch your name."

"Thank you," he said, smiling as he picked up the coin. "The name's Jumz."

I introduced myself and the rest of my party while they finished their drinks. Jumz took our mugs one by one and placed them in the sink that mine had gone in.

"Well, it's nice to meet you," he said. "You're welcome back anytime."

"Oh, we'll definitely be back," I laughed. "That mead was pretty good."

"Alright, we should go and have a chat with the Western Wasters," Nash said, sliding off his stool. "While they're still somewhat sober, that is."

"You're right," I replied. "Let's go."