She was trying and failing to look at the bright side, to look at the silver lining, but she was surrounded by corpses, which was making it a little hard to think positive.
Obviously, there was a huge bonus in the fact that she now had a bunch of bodies and treasure to pick through. She’d have no lack of ingredients after this. But everyone was dead. Some lived a bit longer, but since they were nearly all sleeping, and many were blackout drunk, boy made short work of them. He was happy, which was another bright side, she figured. Everything else around her was just terrible. She tried not to think of how long it took some of them to die, even after Boy started eating them.
Dimly, she remembered she could get rid of the bodies, and began converting all the corpses to LI with glassy eyes. By the time she was done, she had over twenty five hundred LI. The blood was all gone, now, but the sick feeling wasn’t. She laid down in one of the bedrolls, and held it tight to herself while she cried. Dude and Asmodeus crawled into the bedroll too, and allowed her to use them like plushies.
This was actually easier than being bored. Here she was able to forget she wasn’t a person, while still feeling as empty as a hole in the ground. It was almost comforting to forget her emotions. She assumed that this was second only to what it must be like to not exist.
She should be preparing for more intruders. Gristing what she can and gathering ingredients, maybe researching something that isn’t a piece of decoration. She should get better at killing.
That thought shook her out of her malaise, and she got out of the bedroll. She wiped her eyes, ran her hand through her hair, and started breaking things down. There was very little of note. The bedrolls gave her another thousand LI, and a hundred SI, along with forty RG for ‘Tier 1 Rooms’. A few pieces of jewelry gave AI, and she mused that it was interesting that there wasn’t any new research for treasure as she broke them down. The bottles were good for more SI, and provided another ten RG for Rooms. The clothes, armor, and weapons were what she was most interested in. The arrows gave her good headway on the Traps research, and another burst of SI. The clothes all broke down for LI, which barely mattered at this point, but a gambeson and a breastplate both gave RG for Stylez, which was exciting, nearly completing the research. The rest of the armor and weapons were fairly boring, though each new weapon (a mace, an ax, a sword, a dagger) made progress on Traps. The crates were broken down for LI, along with the hay stuffing them and protecting the treasures inside.
Apples, dried food, and linens all were rather standard and broke down for LI, but there was some porcelain, which provided the RG necessary to complete Stylez, Tier 1.
Research complete!
Unlocked:
> Style: (Substyle) Priest’s Quarters
> Style: (Substyle) Altar Room
> Style: (Substyle) Confessional
> Decor: Pews
> Decor: Idol (Small 1)
> Decor: Idol (Small 2)
> Decor: Idol (Small 3)
> Decor: Idol (Medium 1)
> Decor: Idol (Medium 2)
> Decor: Idol (Large 1)
> Treasure: Dark Hymnal
> Treasure: Sacrificial Dagger
> Style: Armory
> Style: (Substyle) Forge
> Treasure: Iron Dagger
> Treasure: Iron Mace
> Treasure: Iron Ax
> Treasure: Iron sword
> Treasure: Iron Helm
> Treasure: Leather Jerkin
> Decor: Armor Rack
> Decor: Weapons Rack
> Decor: Training Dummy
> Style: Stockpile
> Style: (Substyle) Mine
> Style: (Substyle) Cave
> Treasure: Backpack
> Treasure: Hammer
> Treasure: Forge tongs
> Treasure: Iron Ingot
> Treasure: Steel Ingot
> Treasure: Flour Sack
> Treasure: Coal Sack
> Decor: Standing Shelves
> Decor: Workbench
> Decor: Furnace
> Style: Manor
> Style: (Substyle) Scullery
> Style: (Substyle) Bedroom
> Style: (Substyle) Washroom
> Style: (Substyle) Greenhouse
> Treasure: Luxurious Rug
> Treasure: Tea Set
> Decor: Four-Poster Bed
> Decor: Portrait
> Decor: Vase
> Decor: Small Table
> Decor: Hanging Cutlery
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
> Decor: Planters
> Treasure: Fertilizer
> Treasure: Farm Tools
> Trap: Dumbwaiter (Shortcut)
> Trap: Dumbwaiter (Trap)
> Trap: Hidden Door
It was a little too much for her, with the state she was in, but she skimmed it. Some of it made her perk up. Strangely, she found the substyles most interesting, since they’d allow her to make rooms that were a bit different. But instead of immediately trying them out, she started by clearing out the second and third rooms. She internally apologized to her kids, and then replaced the ‘Desecration’ style with the ‘Storeroom’ style.
The whole place shifted from dark obsidian and ominous windows to something that seemed far more natural for the scorpions. The walls were sandstone cobble, And the corners of the room had wooden posts, connected at the top with another, the four of them working together to support and frame the ceiling. At least, visually speaking. They probably didn’t have any function.
She thought about redecorating everything. It might help everything from the previous day sort of wash out of her hair. It wasn’t a bad idea, but first, there was a glaring problem with her set up. The nectarweave scorpions shouldn’t be the first line of defense, even with the statue there to protect them. The entire layout, in fact, felt unnatural and odd. She zoomed out, and started by making another room. This would be the entrance chamber, so she moved the entrance to there. Then, she stretched it, making it bigger and more… real. The room with the nectarweaves, she connected to the side, made it smaller, and removed some of the decorations. The two were connected with a short hallway, and she placed a door between the two.
After lining them up perfectly to be nice and neat, she then moved the shellhide room to the side of the entrance chamber opposite to the stairwell. She made it about two thirds as wide, but just as deep, and then moved the boss chamber to connect with that room, on the right of the entrance. She added more doors, and then connected her core room to the boss room. And then, it was time to get to designing.
----------------------------------------
Lash was being made to wait. It was fine. A pretty common negotiating tactic, they couldn’t get too mad. But every second that ticked away, that cute arbal, the one they really needed to remember the name of, got closer to dying. What was the story between him and the twins anyway? It was unlikely he’d be available. Which of the twins would he go for? The sweet one, probably, but the other seemed grounded and responsible.
They sort of hoped that it was the latter. The bitchy one seemed more like them. It would be nice if they were that lanky, sickly adventurer’s type.
As if anything would happen. Lash had never been the kind to settle down, and why would that change now? They’re an extortionist, a thief, and a con. Damn The Corpse itself if people caught on and tried to get them taken in. Or perhaps just killed them. It meant only that they would need to be legit from here on out. Or at least, adjacent to legit. Sure, they’d be breaking thousands of imperial statutes by enacting their plan, but the exception proves the rule.
They really should decide on an endgame before they get in over their head. They’d like to supply the town with its goods using the dungeon, monopolize and gain legitimacy through status and power. A town would end up growing around the dungeon, though, if word got out it was there. More people knowing about the dungeon did mean more people to discover Lash’s crimes, but it also meant more customers, more patrons, more profit.
Now, if they died in the dungeon, brought in anything weird with them, it could change the dungeon’s output dramatically. So, they sniffed, I had better work hard.
It was then that Milen reentered the room. “Sorry for the wait. We are swamped right now, everyone in the city is panicking about not getting the right type of animal fat to greases their hair with. Can I get you something to drink? We have some ales? Cold, little enough alcohol to be able to do business, but still hydrate?”
Lash accepted, and let him run off to get the drinks. Before he could get back, not a minute later, a trill woman walked into the room, glowering. Her hair brushed the top of the doorframe and she smoothed it where it got mussed, before extending a green-and-yellow patterned hand to shake.
“M’name is Grod Eiliey,” she said as she sat and Lash shook her hand, “So, you’ve made Hanner some kind of offer, with extremely limited details, and he thought it was worth my time for whatever reason.”
Grod stared at Lash, and motioned for them to speak, “Ah, yes. I was offering my services as a scout to find the fate of the delivery.”
“For some exorbitant fee, I assume?”
Lash had been given a lot of time to decide what they would ask for in return. The most valuable thing they could get from the teamsters union was:
“Nothing, actually,” they said, face neutral.
Grod raised her eyebrows and thrummed her fingers against the tabletop, “You don’t want anything?”
“Well, not exactly. I won’t be charging a fee, though.” Lash assured, steepling their fingers.
Grod narrowed her eyes and leaned back, arms crossed. “I don’t trust it. You aren’t the kind to do this out of the good of your heart, or you wouldn’t have met with me.”
“I’m not doing it out of the goodness of my heart,” Lash said, “To be transparent: I’m doing this not for money, not for any goods of yours. What I expect to receive by finding this cart pro-bono is… a working relationship. I expect to find myself windfallen in the upcoming days, and I want us to have a relationship.”
As Grod raised a brow, Lash clarified, “The guild and I.”
Grod smiled, and then laughed, “So. I give you the transport routes, and you find the cart. Now, let’s say that you find it, take off with the goods, and leave us with no information. Let’s say you get there and the cart is empty, or that everything’s been stolen. If we don’t get the goods back, what’s the point?”
“I found Milen getting hassled by a small mob of merchants. If all else fails, he’ll have an answer better than ‘we aren’t sure’. And,” Lash said, sliding the garnet they palmed from the ruins across the table, “Collateral.”
Milen came back at that moment with two ales, and gave them to Lash and Grod. Grod gestured for him to sit as the drinks were cracked open. “You know your gems, right Milen?”
He took the gem and eyed it. He pulled out an appraisal loop, and examined it even closer. “This is a nice gem. Only a garnet, but it’s burial quality. No imperfections, useful for magic rituals and funerary rites.”
“Is it valid for collateral?” Lash asked.
“I expect so. It’s worth a good portion of what would be in the cart, assuming it could be sold, which isn’t likely in this town unless it catches the interest of a passing trader,” he set it back down, “Does this mean that you’ve reached a deal, then, Boss Eiliey?”
“We have to set terms, but, yeah, we’re reaching a deal. Fetch the manifest, would you? I’d like to go over it with our scout before they take off,” she said. As Milen left, she sighed, wiped a hand down her patterned face, and said, “I hate to say it, but if you can find the shipment, it will put you in my good graces. Governor Hogal has met me twice today to ask for updates. That man… I’ve never met someone so disrespectful of other people’s time.”
“He doesn’t sound like the people’s champion, certainly,” Lash responded.
“You haven’t heard his speeches?” Grod asked, “Read any proclamations?”
Lash shrugged, “I’ve only just arrived in town. I’m a salvager, and I’m chasing down a lead.”
“The windfall,” Grod was saying, not asking.
“Yes, precisely,” Lash said, sipping their ale. Milen was right about it. Sweet, only a touch bittered by the alcohol.
“What kind of windfall?” Grod asked, a sly smile playing on her lips, “You weren’t specific, but you plan to work with us. So you must be expecting trade opportunities. So there’s some kind of huge salvage nearby, and you plan to break it down and have us help arrange shipment, am I right?”
Her reasoning was good enough, wrong though she was. “You got it,” Lash lied.
“Let me guess… some kind of wartime machine? No, the war didn’t really reach here… Maybe you found out that a god died, and you plan to harvest it, hmm? Ugh, no, how would you have found that out…” Grod rubbed her temple and pursed her lips.
“Nothing like that,” Lash said, “In truth, I’ve found a stockpile of valuable items, and I intend to turn it into a small fortune.”
Grod smiled. “Ah, I see now. Whatever is in there must be impressive.”
“It is,” Lash said, genuine this time.
It didn’t take long, afterward, for Milen to return with the manifest. Grod went over it with them, explaining the wording and some of the stipulations. “Now,” Grod said, “Not that I’ll have any way of knowing what you do with what you find but, as an added bonus, I’ll throw in anything you find in the cart that isn’t in the manifest. Some traders like to try and get around us, sell more discreetly. I don’t much care why, but it’s a hassle, and I don’t want to claim any materials on that cart that aren’t on the manifest. If they just… disappear, somehow, I don’t mind that one bit. Less work for the horses.”
Lash nodded and looked it over. Most of it looked like standard supplies, dried food, preserves, textiles, nails, screws. There were some that were more valuable, rings, jewelry, gems, and it pained them to not add those to their list of wares.
Deal made, Lash left the union hall and went to buy the supplies they’d need to go out and find the dungeon. They’d leave at sundown.