Dungeon Item Shop

Fresh rolls the boss-core back and forth over her workbench as she thinks, unsure of what to do. More aptly said, it’s not that she doesn’t know what she wants to do, it’s just that she isn’t sure if she should do it. This moment of quiet contemplation on her part, she realizes, would be considered a miracle by Jubilee, who would have no hesitation in telling her exactly that.

She sighs. But is it really her choice to make? She can make the item. There’s nothing wrong with that. But it isn’t up to her to decide the direction of someone else’s life. She realizes that too, as she watches her warped reflection pass her by from left to right over and over. It isn’t right. Though... it might end up destroying all of the plans which they had spent the last days meticulously making.

Her fingers wrap themselves around the boss-core, bringing it to a stop as she sets to work. It’s going to be a long, sleepless night. But she has to do it now, who knows how long they’ll have left? Maybe they’ll have to leave in two days, maybe in five minutes from now. She’s wasting time.

Fresh nods to herself. She’s going to open the door, but she doesn’t get to choose who stays on which side of it.

The boss-core shatters into a heap of jagged shards in an instant, as the magical glow vanishes from her fingers. These pieces are going to serve as a strong source of power. Piling them all carefully together, she grabs a magic-crystal and extracts as many tiny spheres from it as she can. Each of them is about the size of a small pellet, hardly a few millimeters in any direction.

The crystal falls apart. Tiny, little beads fall down down to the table, bouncing and rolling away in every direction, falling off of the sides. Fresh yelps, trying to catch as many as she can, wrapping her arms around the base of the table. A few clatter down to the floor, but she saves most of them.

Sighing in relief, she piles them up. That’s two pieces down. Now she needs…

“Hmm…” Fresh thinks, looking around the basement. Tiny rings? Tiny necklaces? Maybe tiny rings, worn as tiny necklaces?

She gasps, that’s it!

It was stylish, and more importantly, it would let the fairies choose what they preferred more. Jubilee would call it inefficient craftsmanship, but Fresh doesn’t let that deter her. Sometimes you have to be inefficient to get the results you want. Plus it’s also symbolic, in a way.

Cutting tiny strands of crystal-drakonium for necklace straps is easy enough. She does that herself, with her knife.

As for the ring, she already has the ring-crafting process nailed down. It’s just a matter of scale now. She thinks she has a good gauge on how big a fairy’s fingers are, but she decides to make a few size variations, just to be sure.

Tiny, bare, iron bands. Unadorned with any stones.

Quality Effect: Durability is increased by 20%

Nodding in satisfaction, she sets the collection of bite-sized iron rings to the side.

Grabbing the boss-core fragments, Fresh then scoops them into an empty bowl, together with some dirt and then pours in a generous amount of harvest-moonwater.

“Moondirt,” mutters Fresh to herself, reminiscing about her conversation with Jubilee. Grabbing a pestle, she begins grinding it all into a very scratchy paste.

Moondirt.

She laughs quietly to herself at this memory and then throws in the beads into the muck. For anyone else, this crafting process would likely have just resulted in a dangerous, goopy, finger-cutting mess. But Fresh, thankful for the abilities that her new life has granted her, holds her hands over the bowl and focuses on her intent.

This rock of the mountain pulsates with large amounts of low-frequency magical energy, sending out streams of it in all directions. Imbued with the spirit of the mountain, this material sustains any life-form bound to it, outside of its reaches.

Quality Effect: This material can recharge its energies in the light of the moon.

The beads that she had placed into the goop have now changed, the magic-crystals having absorbed the mixture of harvest-moonwater and dirt from the mountain. They’re now less translucent, rather, they look like solid, chalky rocks. Grabbing one, she squeezes it, hoping that it isn’t brittle. It isn’t, the little sphere doesn’t give in the least beneath the pressure of her fingers. It would be bad if a fairy’s charm broke while they were outside.

Taking special precautions however, she takes one final step and grabs a pot. Using Shamrock’s technique for melting crystal-drakonium, she then slowly lowers the beads into the melted rubbery material, pulling them out and letting them harden, so that the cores are surrounded by the dampening shell of the crystal-drakonium.

This is about all that she can do for them and she hopes it’s enough. It might not be the prettiest thing. But it would work.

Fresh sighs, rubbing her tired face on her sleeve. But then she returns to her work right after, embedding the little heartstone-gems into the tiny rings, one by one. Then, finally, she loops the little strings around them, through the bands. It takes her the rest of the night and then another morning hour too, but she finishes the first batch eventually.

Exhausted, she rests her head down on her filthy workbench, a bit of goo and some metal-shavings sticking to her cheek, as she stares at her handiwork, the pride of her stay here on the mountain.

A lovingly crafted ring, embedded with rare-heartstone that stems from the depths of the mountain. This tiny ring radiates a constant magical warmth to its wearer, passively replenishing burnt life-energies.

Allows the wearer to access the magical properties of the mountain, even while away from it.

Quality Effect: This material can recharge its energies in the light of the moon

“Ta-da~” she says quietly to herself, her voice echoing around the basement. She hopes the fairies will like them. Her eyes are very heavy.

“Are you down here?” asks Basil’s voice from upstairs.

“Ta-daaaaa~” yawns Fresh, listening to the steps coming down the stairs.

“Good morning,” says Basil, placing a hand on her shoulder as she peeks over her from behind her. “You’ve been busy.”

Fresh closes her tired eyes. “Ta-“

“ - Daaaaa~” finishes Basil, picking up a tiny ring. “Oh, wow!” exclaims the priestess. Fresh smiles, always happy when someone is excited about her work. “These are really something.”

“Right?” asks Fresh. “You’re not going to say that I made some item that people are going to murder for, are you?” she asks warily, still not opening her eyes.

In an unusual gesture, a hand finds its way to the top of her head. “Well, I was going to say that it took several masterwork jewelers from the church an entire season to make one single charm like this, for that fairy that I told you about. The one from that old hero-party,” says the priestess.

“Please don’t.”

The fingers rub her head. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

“Thanks Basil, you’re the best,” yawns Fresh, resting there with her head against the workbench as the priestess pets her head. She’s living the dream.

Fresh falls asleep.

Razmatazz

These are my favorite kinds of chapters. Just fun SoL, with just a pinch of existential dread

Thank you kindly for reading!

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