Dungeon Item Shop

The straw bristles of the broom scratch over the wooden floors of the store as Fresh sweeps through the building. It’s the middle of the day and not much has happened to say the least. She had finished working on the next section of the wall downstairs and is now cleaning up the mess that she herself had made during said work on the house. Jubilee and Basil are both still exactly where they were all day, both of them transfixed and idle because of the heat. In truth, she wants to join them in their summer laze. But she knows that she shouldn’t. Even if there are no customers, there’s still so much work to do. Or maybe she wants to work on these other things because of exactly that.

Fresh sweeps the mound of dirt and sawdust out of the door.

She hasn’t had a single day of rest since they opened. Weekends apparently don’t really exist here in this world. Stores are open seven days a week and people are expected to work that often. Adventurers try to go into the dungeon every day as well, though they have it a little more lax as they are ‘self-employed’, in a sense.

She rubs the back of her head. Isn’t she self-employed too?

The girl sighs, exhaling the hot air from her body and wipes her sweaty face on her sleeve as she stands in the door of the store, looking out over the empty plaza. Not a single soul moves outside, over the shadeless, open space between the dungeon-gate and the houses. The long street between this plaza and the entrance plaza seems to be just as empty as well.

Fresh stands there in the doorway, feeling a soft breeze come her way. The trees lining the street rustle, billowing in the gentle wind and she closes her eyes, feeling the air move over her face. Taking a second to breathe, she then turns around, looking back towards her friends and then back outside. The girl nods to herself, having decided on how to spend the rest of her day. Running back inside, she scurries past Jubilee and runs upstairs to get her bag and then comes back down.

“I’ll be right back!” she calls as she leaves. Neither of them move an inch.

“Yeah,” says Jubilee.

“Mhm,” says Basil, both of them staring up towards the ceiling.

The heat is scorching outside, this is hotter than summer ever was in her old life. As far as she remembers it at least. Doing her best to stay in the shade of the trees, she moves down the way, heading towards the entry plaza, to the fruit vendor. The man is leaned back against the wall of his stall, his hands over his stomach as he seems to have dozed off.

Fresh grabs a basket of fruits and places a silver Obol onto the counter. “I’d like this please!” she says. The man rouses, not moving more than to lift his head and he nods to her, as she slides the coin over towards him. He doesn’t bother getting up, simply leaving the coin there, as he falls back asleep and Fresh turns to go back home.

“Shorts and a t-shirt would be great,” she mutters to herself. But she isn’t sure if people here wouldn’t think it was odd? As far as she has seen, the clothing here is always a little more fantastical, yet still conservative. She supposes it’s just the nature of the times they find themselves in, together with the strong influence of the church over this city.

Running back inside the store, she moves past her friends who still don’t say a word. Only their eyes move to watch her, as she runs inside, going up the stairs towards the kitchen above.

Fresh leaves the upstairs door open. She isn’t going to do any witch-crafting now and besides -

She rips open the kitchen window and feels a draft come in, blowing down through the front door.

- Maybe it will help if the air is at least moving, if nothing else. The draft, which had so far been her greatest enemy, is now ironically a great relief to her, as the air moves over her face. It’s still as warm as ever, but at least it’s moving.

Smiling, she grabs one of the pots that Jubilee had kept for them and fills it with water. Fresh had collected a few bottles of water this morning and brought them all inside, so that they wouldn’t have to go outside into the sun each time to get a drink. The girl reaches into the just about empty shelf, taking out the teas which she had bought and scoops out some of the contents.

She tilts her head, watching the reddish mixture sink down into the room temperature water. It apparently is some kind of fruit tea, but she has no idea what kind of fruit specifically. The man had said it was great on hot days though. Plus you didn’t need to strain it, since the berries apparently dissolve when boiled.

Nodding, satisfied, she sets to work selecting out a few of the orange fruits. The ones Basil likes. She has no idea what they’re called. They sort of remind her of bananas, but they’re a ripe orange color and apparently you’re supposed to eat the peel with them. Mashing them up, she drops the paste into the tea-water in the pot and then sets it onto the stove like Jubilee had explained to her. Then, being extra careful, she lights a tinder-box and throws it into the wood inside of the oven, closing the door as it sets alight.

She stares in delight, as the goopy mixture before her starts to bubble and boil fairly quickly. Taking a long spoon, she wipes it off on her robe and begins stirring the concoction. Steam rises up against her, together with the heat of the oven. It almost feels unbearable to stand there in the summer heat, but she endures it, grinning and bearing it for her friends.

Five minutes later, it’s ready. Sort of. The mixture has become a little thicker and goopier than she had envisioned. Maybe she used too much of the fruit?

“Hmm…” she ponders, but then shrugs to herself. Taking a spoon, she scoops out a small bit and then blows on it, doing her best to cool it off a little before trying it. Her eyes light up. It’s strong. But maybe too strong. The sweetness of the thick paste tastes fantastic, she only realizes now how little actual sugary stuff she’s had since coming here. But this isn’t exactly what she was hoping for, to help fight the heat of the day.

“Maybe some more water?” She scoops two large spoonfuls of the hot mixture into each of the glass bottles before herself. The consistency is like a thick fruit-mash, like an applesauce and the smell is very fragrant and sweet. Almost candy-like.

Fresh looks at the cooking window. “It’s been a while…” she ponders, scratching her cheek. Cooking had been her very first skill here, if she remembers right.

Checking that the stove is fine to leave alone, she grabs one of the bottles, fills it up, corks it and then shakes it.

The thick fruit and tea paste immediately dissolves into the bottle of water, tingeing it into a light reddish-orange tone that is almost entirely translucent. Pulling the top off, she takes another sip.

“It’s perfect!” she exclaims to herself in delight. It’s very thin now and very refreshing. The sweetness is only just barely noticeable, but not as overpoweringly tart as before. But then she grimaces, smacking her lips. “It’s warm…” she sighs. Well. Obviously it’s going to be warm. She just took the mixture from the boiling pot and put it in some room temperature water. Fresh stares down at the three bottles before herself. This won’t do. If only they had a refrigerator, or even just an icebox of some kind. Her gaze raises up, her eyes wandering out of the window, over towards the fountain.

That’s it! Smiling, she grabs the three warm bottles and runs downstairs, past her two friends who still haven’t moved an inch and hurries outside, running through the sunlight, towards the fountain.

Relieved, she reaches the shadow of the dungeon-gate and leans over, placing the three corked bottles into the shallow water.

Fresh sighs, falling down to her knees, her arms wrapped over the rim of the fountain, as she watches the three bottles float in the cool pool. The wet glass shimmers as it bobs up and down, droplets pearling down its sleek surface like the sweat dripping down her skin. It’s hypnotizing, in a sense. The heat, the trickling of the water, the bobbing glass bottles shifting up and down. She sits there, idly, feeling the world pass her by.

She isn’t sure how long she sits there exactly, zoned out, her fingers dipped into the water to hold the bottles from floating away. But eventually, a splash from the other side wakes her up from her vision-less daydreams and she turns to look at the source of the disturbance. The man from the sect stands on the other end of the fountain again, having pulled his head back out a second ago. Water sloshes down his darkly colored plated armor. Fresh tilts her head. It must be unbearable out here in this heat in that outfit. He doesn’t seem very fazed though, as if even the incredible heat of the scorching summer does nothing to temper his zeal in the least.

“Hi,” she waves out to him. He nods to her once and then turns to go back into the dungeon. The girl fidgets with her fingers, looking back to the windows of the store, checking if they’re empty. They are. Her gaze wanders back down as she springs to her feet. “Uh… wait!” she calls out in a half-quiet voice and gets up, running over to the man. One of the bottles in her hands. “Here.” she holds it out to him. “I just made this fresh!”

He stares down at her, not moving, apart from his breath that lurches his breastplate in and out. She tilts her head nervously. “It’s hot today, so make sure to drink enough!” smiles the girl with a meek smile, holding the bottle out further. The man from the sect doesn’t say anything and Fresh fidgets, somewhat unsure of herself now, looking at him and then down at the bottle. “Ah…” She realizes that she’s probably being weird again. The man probably thinks she’s some kind of creep. Maybe Jubilee is right about her after all.

To her surprise, the man takes the bottle and turns to walk away, getting back to work. “Thanks,” is all that he says, as he returns to the dungeon. Fresh sighs a breath of relief and then runs back to get the other two bottles, to return to the store. She isn’t sure why she gave the man the bottle. It just felt like the right thing to do, is all. She wonders, as she runs back through the heat, the wet glass pressed against herself, maybe she feels bad for him? After all, he doesn’t seem to have anything except for his desire to kill monsters. It sounds lonely to her. It reminds her of herself, but at least now she has her friends. She hopes the man can find something like she has too.

Glowing, she steps inside, holding the two bottles out to her friends. “Ta-da!” Setting one down she slides it over to Basil and hands the other one to Jubilee.

“Thank you, um… What is it?” asks Basil curiously.

“It’s sweet-tea!” says Fresh, lifting a finger as she explains to Basil, who is examining the brightly translucent mixture. “It’s very refreshing!” she finishes.

“Thanks,” says Jubilee, taking their bottle upstairs, presumably to try it out somewhere where they could take off their mask.

Basil pulls out the cork, dew splashing from the bottle down onto her white robe as she takes a sip and then a long drink out of the bottle. “This is really good!” says the priestess and then takes another long gulp of the sweet-tea. Fresh clasps her hands together in excitement.

Jubilee comes back downstairs again, adjusting their mask.

“Yeah, not bad,” they say, nodding to Fresh as they carry their somewhat emptied bottle back down with them.

Fresh smiles a giddy smile and bounces on her heels, happy to see her friends roused from their summer daze. She supposes that’s all that it takes, a simple act of her taking the initiative. Small gestures are important, after all. Fresh beams as brightly as the summer sun, happy at having accomplished this. Even if there are next to no sales again today, seeing her friends happy made it all worth it to her nonetheless.

Jubilee holds the bottle up to their eyes, swirling the mixture around. “How much did this cost to make?”

“Huh?” asks Fresh, opening her eyes. A moment later she uneasily begins scratching her cheek. “Uh…” She goes over the details. Jubilee looks to her and then over to Basil and for the first time that Fresh can recall, asks the priestess for her input.

“Twelve Obols?” asks Jubilee.

Basil looks at her bottle, taking another sip, her face glowing in delight. “I would suggest nine, but use smaller bottles.”

Jubilee thinks for a moment, tapping their mask. “You might actually have an idea there.” Fresh looks back and forth between the two of them, trying to follow their conversation. A moment later, she realizes.

“Huh?! I wasn’t making a new product! I just wanted to make you two something nice!”

Basil thinks, a finger running through her hair, a golden bangle jangling on her wrist. “If you sell it for nine, maybe people will come here for this and then buy other things?”

Jubilee nods. “Yeah, that makes sense. With smaller bottles, they’ll end up buying more because of the heat.” Fresh’s excitement dies down fairly quickly. Jubilee looks over to Fresh. “How much of this can you make and how fast?”

The girl sighs an exhausted sigh and slumps down against the bin with the magical-talismans inside of it. She mutters to herself, the heat finally getting to her after all.

“I’m glad you like it…”

The fountain trickles unusually loudly outside. The splashing of the water sounds almost like a quiet laugh, coming from off in the distance.

Razmatazz

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