Dungeon Item Shop

Jubilee knocks the sheep over, throwing it off of the counter with a single hand.

“JUBILEE~!” yells Fresh, looking over the counter down at the sheep which flops onto the floor, landing on its side. The sliver of crystal-drakonium, implanted into its back along its spine, floats upwards, pressing the inside of the fabric up into the air. The sheep lifts up, its feet finding its balance as it keeps on walking straight ahead, having survived the fall. Fresh sighs in relief, watching the sheep walk away towards the mountain-shelf that she had already restocked with the ‘reworked’ sheep plushies.

“What? It’s called product-testing,” says Jubilee, shrugging. “Not bad though. Looks like a cheap fix.”

Fresh watches as the sheep runs into someone’s leg and flops over again. It gets up again on its own, as the caster, wearing a very fluffy robe, almost akin to the sheep’s fluff, looks down at it. The little sheep turns inadvertently to the side and walks down the aisle, not out of any conscious movement, but just by sheer happenstance.

“Hey! Hey!” says the fluffy-robed caster, running up the counter and pointing at the sheep as it runs through a group of surprised adventurers looking at wands. “How did you make it do that?”

Fresh scratches her cheek, looking at Jubilee for a moment before turning back to the caster. “Uh… magic?” suggests Fresh, lifting a finger to explain with a smile.

“Huuuh?” asks the caster, looking at the sheep and then back to them. “If I get five of them, can I get a discount?”

“The fuck?” asks Jubilee. “Uh, sure,” they say, rubbing the back of their head. “Get five and we’ll give you ten percent off and a bag,” they say, shrugging indifferently.

“Great!” says the caster, grabbing a handful of the sheep and running back to the counter.

Fresh beams in prideful delight, seeing this many sheep find a home at once and so suddenly. She clasps her hands by her face, smiling brightly. “Do you have a lot of friends and family to give presents to?” asks the girl curiously, wondering if her sheep would be received by excited children or by giddy adventurers who have managed to remain unfazed by the cruelties of this world.

“Huh?” asks the caster, giving Jubilee their coins. “Ah, no, no,” they reply, waving to her with a laugh, as if seeing the misunderstanding. “I want to let them run ahead of me in the dungeon. So that they’ll trigger any traps for me.”

Fresh stops smiling. “Huh?!”

Jubilee gives them their change back and hands them the sheep packed into a free bag. “Here you go, enjoy!” they say with a particularly chipper tone.

“Thanks!” replies the fluffy-robed caster. “You guys make great stuff, keep up the good work!” they say, waving with a free hand at the two as they run out of the store, turning towards the dungeon.

“Jubileeeee~” cries Fresh, her shaking hand reaching after the sheep that leave the sanctuary of their home, heading towards a dark fate that she is unable to protect them from. A little leg kicks tragically out of the top of the bag, as if one of the sheep was trying to reach back towards her.

“What? It’s a great idea,” says Jubilee with a nod as their hand rubs their chin. “We should market them as trap-checkers and say it was our idea all along.” They look up over the counter at a dark-elf who walks by. “Hey! You! Long-ears!” calls Jubilee suddenly.

“Huh? What? Me?” asks the man.

“Yeah you,” says Jubilee. “That staff of yours looks pretty fucked. Want us to repair it?”

The man looks down at his wooden staff that is covered in trinkets and feathers. It has a long crack running along the sides that is covered by a dirty, tightly wound fabric that holds the wooden rod together in one piece. “The material is very rare, I don’t know if you can.”

Jubilee taps their finger onto the counter. “Looks like wood to me.”

“It’s rare-wood,” says the dark-elf, plainly. Jubilee rolls their eyes before looking up at Fresh. “Can we fix rare-wood?” Hearing this, Basil hurries over and looks at the staff.

“Uh…” stammers Fresh, having no idea what that is. “Yes!” she says, seeing the twitch in Jubilee’s eye. She holds her hands out, looking at the staff for a moment. “We can have it fixed by tomorrow morning, if you’d like,” says the girl, looking back up at the man.

“That quickly?” asks the caster, fumbling with the patchy beard on his face.

“That quickly,” repeats Fresh with a convincing smile.

“Mm… I wanted to go into the dungeon today,” he thinks.

“Well then come back tonight,” suggests Jubilee. “Or take a glass staff as a loan until then. But don’t break it or you’re paying for it.” The man looks behind himself to the weapons on the shelf and then back down at his wooden staff. He nods and hands it over to Fresh.

“Alright, sounds good to me. But please be careful, rare-wood is hard to come by around here.”

“Don’t I know it?” says Jubilee, knocking on their mask twice.

“Ah! You’ve been?” asks the dark-elf.

“Yeah, but it’s been a while. Can’t say that I miss it though. Fucking snobs,” says Jubilee. The man laughs, waving with a hand as he grabs a staff from the shelf.

“It certainly takes some adjusting to get used to,” says the elf, heading to the door. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning then.”

“You better be, or we’re selling it,” calls Jubilee after him.

Fresh looks down at the staff and then at Jubilee and Basil, not quite sure what just happened. Shrugging to herself, she heads to the basement to carry the staff down to safety, as it is apparently expensive. The two of them scoot past Shamrock, who is busy explaining the different flavors of candy to a human caster, covered in an odd robe. Fresh only realizes after a moment that it is actually several thin robes layered over each other. Fresh is sure that the customer had asked Shamrock the same questions at least six different times now though. Not that she minds. Seeing the previous social-outcast, Shamrock, socializing like this makes her happy in a way that she can’t really explain.

“So what flavor is this one?” asks the caster.

“Red,” says Shamrock, looking at the red candy she holds towards him.

“Do you like red ones?” asks the caster.

“It is acceptable.”

“What about this one? It’s blue? What does it taste like?”

“It tastes like blue,” says Shamrock. She laughs, somehow finding this answer acceptable as well. Fresh feels like butting in and explaining that the blue ones actually tasted sweet like berries. But she feels like she’ll just get another sour look for her efforts.

Heading downstairs instead, she goes towards the table with Basil in tow. “So what’s rare-wood, Basil? Do you know?” she asks, setting the staff down next to the cauldron and fumbling with it.

“It’s from the center,” says Basil, touching the wood too with a single finger, as if afraid to touch something that is apparently very expensive.

“Huh?” asks Fresh. “The center?”

“Sure,” says the priestess. “In the center, between the four cities. It’s where the noble-grove is.”

“Huh?” repeats Fresh, looking back at the wood.

“The noble houses. They live in a city of their own in the middle, between the other four cities,” explains Basil. “Rare-wood only grows there, in the giant-tree dungeon.”

“Oh.” Fresh scratches her cheek. “Is it nice? The city?”

“Not for people like us,” says Basil with a sigh and a smile, patting her on the back. “People like us aren’t welcome there. That’s why rare-wood is so hard to find.”

“Huh…” says Fresh, looking down at the staff. She shrugs. “Oh well. Come on, Basil. Let’s get back upstairs. I’ll take care of all the repairs later.”

“Can I help you?” asks Basil as they walk away.

“Uh… there isn’t much to help with honestly,” replies Fresh.

“Can I watch?” asks Basil.

Fresh scratches her cheek and looks at the priestess, nodding with a smile. “I’d like that!” says the girl, always happy to spend more time with her friends. “If you aren’t too tired after work!”

The two of them head back upstairs. Fresh, having nothing else to help with down in the storefront, goes upstairs and changes out her mattress for the new one, sliding the old one into the pantry. Maybe one of the others wanted it to double-stack theirs, no sense in throwing it out. It isn’t even that old.

It’s a bit of a hassle, fitting the bed-sheet around the levitating mattress, but she manages eventually.

Fresh stands there, with the balcony door open, feeling the breeze run past her face as it makes its way down the staircase and out the open front door. As she stands there alone, listening to the exciting sounds of the lively city around her, her mind wanders to the sound of distant waters, as she stares at the floating mattress before herself. With a wandering thought, she wonders how much crystal-drakonium it would take to lift a person?

She shakes her head. That’s silly.

Smiling to herself, she heads to the kitchen to cook up some more snacks for the shelves. She isn’t really sure where she gets the idea from, but she as she stares at a bottle of sweet-tea on the counter, she can’t help but wonder if they couldn’t sell a lot more of it, a lot faster, if they offered it both hot and cold, instead of just room temperature?

Maybe there’s a way to do that?

Grabbing some materials from the pantry, she sets to work, happy that another new idea has come to her so effortlessly, as if by magic.

Razmatazz

Thank you kindly for reading!

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