Dungeon Item Shop

Fresh looks at the mountain of teeth laying in front of her. “Jubilee, I don’t know if there are enough goblins in the dungeon for us to keep this up,” says the girl.

“What do you mean?

“Well, with all the daggers and the new weapons and now this sword, we’re using hundreds and hundreds of teeth.

Jubilee shrugs. “Well, we get more every day. But if we run out, then we run out.” They wave her off and return to the ledger. “Besides, that just means we can raise the prices for our weapons because of high demand.

Fresh sighs, looking back down at the pile of teeth in front of her. She doesn’t even really notice how morbid a sight it is anymore. A single dagger takes two dozen teeth, just a single one-handed sword already takes seventy-two and this recipe takes double that amount, if she has the right idea in mind at least. Fresh holds her hands above the literal mound of teeth, trying not to think about how many faces they were pulled out of, and uses her ability, scooting back a bit, since she doesn’t know how large the new sword will be.

[Bone-Greatsword](High)

A massive great-sword. The horrifying weapon carries a dark, ominous tinge to it.

+8 DMG

+4 DARK DMG

Quality Effect: Wounds caused by this weapon can not be healed by HOLY

Weight: 6.66kg

Durability: 40/40

Value: ???

Her eyes light up as she sees the new crafting level and the quality of the great sword that falls down with a loud, heavy thunk which shakes the floor. “Jubilee! Jubilee! Look!” she says proudly, pointing at the giant sword.

Jubilee looks over the counter and tilts their head. “Fuck. I should have charged him more.” They scratch their hood. “That monster is probably down to floor forty by himself. He has the money.”

Fresh looks curiously. “How come so many people go into the dungeon alone?”

“Huh?” Jubilee looks at her, thinking for a moment. “It’s just that potion drinking kook and that guy, unless you know somebody else,” says Jubilee. “Going into the dungeon alone is dangerous. I don’t know why the wizard doesn’t want a party, but…” Jubilee thinks for a moment, before returning to their work.

“But?” asks Fresh, curious now.

Jubilee shrugs, but doesn’t look up from the ledger. “The sect is accepted by society, but not by polite society,” explains Jubilee. “So they do a lot of stuff on their own. But that’s fine, because they’re… very industrious people, when it comes to killing monsters, at least.”

Fresh scratches her head, thinking about the giant, armored man who seemed to be just a little obsessed with killing things. “I don’t get it? If they like fighting monsters, wouldn’t adventurers and the church love them?”

“I said killing monsters. They love killing monsters, not fighting them. There’s a difference,” says Jubilee.

“Sure, but…?”

Jubilee sighs and closes the ledger. “Look, here’s the short version, because there are things you just aren’t supposed to talk about when it’s dark outside.” Fresh tilts her head, surprised at Jubilee’s sudden bout of superstition. “The sect follow old traditions.”

“Witches?” asks Fresh, remembering the topic with Basil from before.

“Witches,” says Jubilee. “You know how high-level adventurers in the church can become paladins?”

“No,” says Fresh, shaking her head.

Jubilee just rolls their eyes and continues. “Well, it’s like that, but the opposite. Members of the sect follow old beliefs. Old gods. Old religions. And witches are basically the bishops of the old world.”

Fresh taps her chin. “So… why do they kill monsters then?”

“The sect is obsessed with their biggest goal in life, bringing back more witches.” Jubilee narrows their eyes, looking at Fresh. “They have a bunch of kooky beliefs and prophecies, but the condensed version is they think that if enough things die, that witches will somehow come back,” explains Jubilee. “More than the one or two hidden away in some forest at the ass-end of the world. So they want to make that happen as fast as possible. Turns out, killing hundreds of monsters every day is a lot more efficient than hunting down people, apparently they ‘count’ the same.”

Fresh scratches her head. “I don’t get it.”

“Neither do I, but it’s not our business,” says Jubilee. “All you need to know is that they’re obsessed about killing monsters, which means they’re strong as all fuck, because they spend every minute of their lives rampaging.” Jubilee points at her. “Don’t talk to him about anything except business. Got it?”

“Okay,” nods Fresh, not really understanding entirely. “Why doesn’t the church go after them if they like witches?”

“Because there aren’t that many left to begin with and the ones that are around do nothing but kill monsters all day anyways. Besides, they’re all high-level.” Jubilee shrugs, heading towards the stairs. “So even the church just lets them be, though they aren’t happy about it. They’d be more trouble to deal with than they’re worth. If a fight broke out between some high-levels in the middle of the city, it would get real ugly, fast.”

Jubilee walks up the stairs and Fresh nods to herself, understanding. Fresh looks around the downstairs area, realizing that she’s sitting alone and she jumps to her feet, running after Jubilee.

The next day comes and the two of them discuss the logistics of their ‘ramping up’ of the store. They decide to save a little money for now and to just keep working day by day for a while, to let themselves relax a little finally. Once they have a little nest-egg, they’re going to invest in all of the things they spoke about in the guild. But for now, a tiny bit of the quiet life sounds appealing for both of them.

Fresh sits there, playing with the bottle of ectoplasm again, much to Jubilee’s agitation.

“Are you ever going to use that?”

“I am,” says the girl, looking at the sloshing liquid. “I just don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“Huh?” asks Jubilee, apparently surprised by this statement of hers.

“Well… if ghosts are souls, then… isn’t ectoplasm soul-juice? Wouldn’t it be cruel to make something out of someone?” She tilts the bottle. “Someone human. Or elf. Or orc.”

Jubilee shrugs. “Goblin-teeth, human juice. It’s all the same in the end. They’re dead now, so might as well not waste it.” Fresh frowns and the two of them set to work, opening the store for the day.

An hour later, Fresh approaches Basil. “Basil?” asks the girl, talking to the priestess who is standing behind the counter. “Are ghosts souls?”

“Ghosts?” asks the priestess, thinking for a moment. “You mean like, from the dungeon?”

“Yeah,” says Fresh, nodding.

Basil thinks for a moment. “I’m not an expert on the matter, but from what I’ve understood, ghosts are just… leftovers.”

“Leftovers?”

Basil nods. “When someone dies, their soul moves on. But sometimes there are particularly sticky emotions and feelings that get left behind once a soul leaves to return to the well.” The priestess raises the palm of her hand as she explains. “Without the core soul to guide them, those leftover emotions become feral and lash out,” she says. “That’s what ghosts are, as far as I know. But…” her expression shifts to one that appears somewhat uncomfortable. “The exorcists would know more about that than me. I’m just a simple healer.”

Fresh nods, sure that she half understands at least. “Thanks, Basil!”

“Why are you always so worried about ghosts? If you don’t mind me asking,” asks the priestess curiously.

Fresh thinks, scratching her cheek at the odd question. “Why aren’t you worried about ghosts? They could be here, right now, Basil.” Fresh looks over her shoulder, out into the store. But there isn’t a ghost anywhere to be seen. Obviously. The only thing to be seen are the few customers, browsing the store and Jubilee, who is standing in front of the chickens, adjusting them.

Later that day, after business has ramped up, Fresh finds herself running back and forth in a hurry to carry all of their repairs upstairs. As she runs up the stairs for the ninth time today, carrying another load of armor, she wonders if this is how the red-wizard feels when she is running in a circle around the enemies in the dungeon for hours. Fresh sighs and drops off the equipment. Coming back down, she can’t help but notice the giant, black-plate armored man standing in the middle of the line, his chest heaving with each monstrous breath that seems to shake the very nervous person in front of him. He seems oddly out of place there, his hulking frame dwarfing the nervous adventurers in front and behind him. Fresh can’t help but notice how accustomed she’s gotten to all of the clothes people wear here. She doesn’t even think twice about the bright, colorful armors they all wear anymore. But since everyone here wears such bright things, somehow the dark-cobalt armor of the man is more noticeable than any of the vibrant hues.

Looking down at her own black robe, she sighs. She has the money, she really should buy herself some more clothes. Sure, she hand-washes her robe from time to time, but… maybe it is kind of gross, only having one outfit? Well, she also has her old dress. But ever since she had gotten something more obscuring, she hasn’t had the self-confidence to wear that old thing again.

She hopes Jubilee hasn’t been judging her for it. Her party-member always wears the same manner of outfit, an obscuring cloak with their mask. But she’s surprised how often Jubilee switches the colors of their equipment, just about every day actually. To her, Jubilee seems like a moody type who would only ever wear black, yet there they were, downstairs yelling at a frantically working Basil, wearing their bright-green outfit that she had seen them in on her very first day here.

Her eyes catch Basil and her white-robe, which is very well maintained and clean, yet she can’t help but notice that the cuff of it, down around the priestess’ ankles is somewhat dirty.

Looking back down the stairs to the crowd, she looks at the other priests and priestesses in line. All of them share the same markings. Dirt, dust and a little muck stains the bottom fringes of their white robes. She smiles, having decided on what to do with the ectoplasm.

The member of the sect approaches the counter and an oddly twitchy Jubilee and an expectedly twitchy Basil lift the greatsword together out onto it. The giant man clasps it with his dark-metal gauntlets, lifting the blade up to inspect it. His heavy breathing grows just a little stronger, as his shadowy eyes, hardly visible only through the vertical slits of his helmet, shine just a little as they run over the giant bone-sword that is almost as large as he is.

“This is,” he looks at the macabre bone-work running along the handle, the crowd behind him shifts back a few steps as does Basil, as he gazes over the massive sword which he holds in a single hand, his eyes sparing no notice to anything other than it. “- pleasing.” He nods to Jubilee and then looks up towards the girl in black, still standing on the stairs, before walking out of the shop without another word, heading straight towards the dungeon.

A sharp voice rings out. “Okay! Keep it moving, show’s over!” yells Jubilee at the crowd, none of whom have dared to step forward towards the counter, to stand in the spot where the ominous man was just a moment ago. As if his great shadow was still lingering there. They jab their elbow into Basil’s side. “Get back to work, you fanatic!”

“I’m not a fanatic!” argues Basil, receiving only a glare in response, as Jubilee leaves the counter, apparently having stayed there only for that.

They look up towards Fresh. “That goes for you too.”

“Ah!” Fresh breaks free from her day-dreaming and runs down the stairs, grabbing the next load of armor from behind the counter.

Razmatazz

1) Enjoy the good times while they last *-*

2) RoyalRoad Writathon is over today! Wew, what a sprint. Release schedule is staying the same for now, but I'm tempted to switch to only during work days. Opinions? =)

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