Dungeon Item Shop

It is early in the morning, a few hours before daybreak. Fresh and Basil, both tired and a little delirious, are ecstatic about their results and cling to each other in a sweaty hug as they spin around in a circle, in an odd half-dance, half-wild-jubilation, down in the basement. This might perhaps be an unusual thing for the priestess to do, but she has little power to resist the adapting of her tired and already weakened personality to Fresh’s in this exciting moment of triumph. Especially after what had happened before, just after midnight.

For all PARTY within 12m -

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“We did it, Basil!” says Fresh, hugging Basil as they spin another round.

“We did!” laughs Basil, slowing down, as she is apparently becoming dizzy from all of the spinning.

Fresh, seeing her pale face, lets go. “Oh, sorry!” She looks down. “Ah… sorry,” she says a second time. “I’m all sweaty and gross.”

Basil shakes her head, wobbling a little on her legs. “That’s okay, I don’t mind. I am too,” she laughs, turning back to the menu that had appeared.

“Is it a good item?” asks Fresh.

“It’s a really good item,” explains Basil. “Really, really good. Any party that has even just one source of holy or dark magic will want one of these.”

Fresh looks at her, tilting her head. “Uh…”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t know if we want to make more of them,” says Fresh, looking up at the crystal. “It was a looot of work,” she sighs. “And I don’t want to keep you up every night.”

Basil shakes her head. “You can keep me up every night, as often as you want.” The priestess blinks, looking to the side, realizing that that could be interpreted exactly as she had meant it. But as always, Fresh doesn’t pick up on that.

“You’re the best, Basil!” she smiles. “I guess it should be easy to make more, now that we figured out the trick.” The trick was a lot simpler than either of them had assumed.

They had spent many hours trying out all sorts of intricate craftsmanship and rune-work patterns and such, in order to get the magical energies to stay put inside of the crystal, holding together with each other. The trick was to just wrap the body of the crystal inside of a flattened piece of crystal-drakonium, which apparently also has magic-insulating properties and then for them to put the crystal between themselves, each of them touching one tip, so that their spells could meet in the middle, with neither escaping out of the body.

“Let’s keep this one for ourselves,” suggests Basil. “We can just strap it to a bag when we go into the dungeon.”

“Do you want to go into the dungeon again?” asks Fresh, delighted at this prospect.

“We can ask the others if we want to take a day off once a week and just do stuff together. Didn’t you want to do that back in the north anyway?”

“I’d really like that, Basil!” beams Fresh, grabbing a surprised Basil in a second, very sweaty, hug. Casting can be a very exhausting process.

Apart from the resonant-crystal, they had replanted Basil’s unsuccessful planter, using a little moondirt with the mixture.

This moment, having taken place just after midnight, was perhaps more emotional in a sense, than this current moment of their success. Basil had had a confession to make, one that Fresh wasn’t expecting, but also one that she didn’t get angry about. It also explained why nothing was growing in the sixth planter.

Because there was never a seed planted inside of it to begin with.

“Promise you won’t get mad?” asks Basil, her sleeves rolled back as she digs into the dirt of the planter, sparing Fresh a nervous glance.

“I promise,” says Fresh, scratching her cheek and smearing some dirt on it, not sure why the priestess is so somber. Maybe because they hadn’t had success with the crystal yet? They moved to a different project for now.

Basil nods with a sigh and pulls something out of the wet dirt with her gloved hands. “I used some of your cauldron water.”

“Huh?” Fresh blinks, looking at the thing that Basil pulls out of the dirt. It’s a small, well polished strip of metal. “The cauldron? That’s really dangerous, Basil!” warns Fresh, stepping closer and looking at the thing in her hand. Basil carefully wipes the dirt off of it.

Seeing her confusion, Basil looks back down to the thing in her hand. “It’s a piece from his armor,” she explains. “I kept it, as a token.” Her eyes wander down to the dirt. “I was hoping that…”

“Basil…” says Fresh, realizing what she’s talking about. The orc. Basil’s best friend. She was trying to resurrect him. Fresh wants to get angry, in all honesty, because of how reckless that was. But she realizes that not only is she the last person who is allowed to get angry about something like this, but also, that she had promised not to.

Besides, she isn’t sure that she wouldn’t have tried to do the same thing, if something had happened to Jubilee, to Basil, to Shamrock.

Fresh rubs her own arm, looking away. “It doesn’t work like that, Basil. Sorry…”

“Yeah…” replies Basil, turning away to look back at the empty planter.

“And even if it did, even if he did come back somehow… he wouldn’t be the same.”

“Yeah…” says Basil a second time, as Fresh stares at her back.

“Promise me you won’t go near the cauldron again,” asks Fresh. “It’s really super-dangerous!”

Basil doesn’t turn around, but her shoulders slump. “I promise,” says the priestess, fumbling with the small, metal thing in her hands. “Please don’t tell the others.”

“I won’t say a word,” swears Fresh, walking up to Basil and hugging her from behind, seeing that the priestess isn’t going to turn around anytime soon. “Do you need a minute alone?” she asks, feeling Basil’s body shake a little as she tries to hold it in. “I can go upstairs and come back down in a few minutes, if you want.”

Basil doesn’t say anything, still busy fighting down whatever it is that she has to fight down. But she places her hand on the two arms wrapped around her from behind to keep them there. Fresh smiles, understanding, and the two of them stand there for a while, not saying anything. Only the sounds of a crackling fire and the crying priestess fill the basement.

Everyone really has had a lot to process lately, thinks Fresh, as she rubs the side of her face against Basil’s back. Or maybe they’ve just all finally come to a quiet, safe place where processing is an option to begin with, a place of nurturing and safety, a home.

Or maybe she’s just a horrible witch who makes all of her friends cry? She hopes that that isn’t the case.

After a while, once the moment has ended and Basil has stabilized herself, the two of them get back to work, neither of them saying a word about what had just happened. There’s nothing left to say, everything is already out there in the open.

Grabbing some moondirt, they set it into the planter, dotting the regular soil with it, before then planting some seeds which Basil had purchased. They’re various wild-flowers, apparently.

Nothing happens right away, despite Fresh having almost expected it too. But Basil says that whatever properties the moondirt could offer, it would take a while until the plants had grown large enough to make them apparent. Flowers like these will usually already become adolescents within a week.

After that, they set to work on making some new rings. In order to keep them separated, Fresh suggests that they use copper and ends up making several stoneless rings out of the material. Basil, meanwhile, pushes her healing spell into a small bowl of shattered crystal-fragments, soaking in harvest-moonwater.

Once the work is done, Fresh carefully takes them out and fits them one by one into the copper rings.

While wearing (on the mountain):

While wearing:

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“These are good,” says Basil, examining the ring in her hands. “They’re very protective, but uh… what’s the water thing about?”

Fresh raises a finger, explaining. “The biggest thing hurting people in this town isn’t the dungeon, it’s their drinking.”

“You think?”

“Mm!” nods Fresh. “It will be great for their bodies to really get washed out a little.”

“It is an interesting property,” concedes Basil. “It’s like a free, unlimited, but very weak health-potion. Actually…” she blinks, realizing what she just said. “I don’t know if we should sell these?”

“Huh?”

Basil shakes her head. “Let’s make a few more, but we should ask Jubilee about it in the morning.”

“You think they’re dangerous?”

The priestess looks at her and smiles. “You’d be very frightening, if you weren’t you.”

“Basil?”

“Military tensions being what they are… it’s like with the lanterns,” explains Basil. “An order of a few thousand rings like these could change the entire dynamic of a marching army.”

“You think?” asks Fresh.

“You need to understand that these small bonuses add up fast and that the people who run the ranks know that,” explains Basil. “An infinite source of cheap, disposable weapons. A cheap, weatherproof lantern that never dies. A lightweight, perfect bedroll. A ring that heals the wearer at no cost. Just these few things that you can make, if given to one regiment, could shift the tide of an entire war, just because of how much more efficient they would be.”

Fresh blinks, looking at the priestess and then down at the ring. “But I just want something to keep everyone safe and healthy.”

Basil consoles her now, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I know and that’s what makes you endearing.” She lifts a finger. “But that naivety is also what makes you dangerous.” The priestess looks at her with a stern expression and Fresh can’t help but wonder if she isn’t being lectured like one of the children that Basil used to care for. “Whatever you make, no matter what your intentions are, someone in this world will find a way to use it for ends that you likely won’t agree with. Remember that and always consider it, before you make something new.”

Fresh doesn’t know what to say, so she simply nods and smiles. “Okay, Basil,” she relents. “Do you want to work on the crystal-again?” asks Fresh. “I think I have an idea!” she exclaims.

Razmatazz

Lots of good bonding being done lately. Everyone is being tied so closely together emotionally. Isn't it great? =)

*Ratchets boxcutter*

It's the best!

Thank you kindly for reading!

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