Dungeons and Noobs

by Ryan Rimmel

Badgelor bumbled his way into the workshop several hours later. “Some of us were trying to sleep, you know.”

  I side-eyed him but continued pounding on the blade. Finally, after a few last hits, the decided I was done with it.

  ● Quick Shortsword, Critical Success. Base damage 2-7, 120/120 durability.

  ○ Quick Strikes cost 25% less stamina to use.

  Holding it firmly, I gave a few practice swings. I could really feel the weight of the blade as I did so. It was perfect. I usually fought with a single weapon because I needed my other hand free but there were points where having a shorter blade would have been useful. Glancing over at Badgelor, I said, “This is as good as I can do without enchanting it.”

  “So enchant it,” stated the badger.

  I frowned. “I only know elemental runes. They won’t improve the sword over what I can already do with my Mage class.”

  “You need to hire an Enchanter,” stated Badgelor, yawning expansively.

  That was true, but I had no idea where to find one. Narwal had one, but the jerk didn’t want to move or share his secrets. He also cheated and wrote his runes in an unusual script that only worked on the items he produced. That made it impossible for me to just copy them.

  “Maybe I’ll find one in the dungeon,” I said, causing the badger to frown. That was unlikely, as no one had entered the dungeon in hundreds of years.

  Badgelor’s head snapped around as he scented something. Right after, I heard the pitter-patter of feet on a creaky stair in the hall. It was finally time. I opened the door just as Ashe reached out to knock. Her face was bright from tears, and, as I looked at her, I saw a fresh round begin to form in her eyes.

  “Please keep them safe,” she said, standing aside. She meant Dalton and Zorlando, but I couldn’t tell which one mattered more to her at the moment.

  I nodded and walked down the stairs. I had already put on my armor. Before breakfast, my pack of supplies had been taken to be loaded onto a cart. As I reached the entrance, I turned, taking a long look around. Deep down I knew that this was the last time I was going to see this place for a while.

  “I’ll take down the tree when I get back,” I said and stepped outside.

  It seemed that everyone in Windfall had come to see us off. The street was unnecessarily wide, especially considering Ordinal was a place where cars had not been invented. It was the largest single street in the entire town, and, at this moment, it was jam packed. Everyone in the village was here to send the adventurer’s off with glad tidings and well-wishes. I felt a wellspring of pride in me as they shouted and cheered.

  Fenris was first in line, looking resplendent in his newest armor. It was a reinforced breastplate that seemed to walk the line between medium and heavy armor. His new shield, complete with the Velociraptor embossing, looked quite imposing. His new Ring of Vitality shone on his fist. The normally dour man was almost smiling.

  A party ended when the party leader lost consciousness, so the party I had formed yesterday had disbanded. That just meant I’d need to reform it. I placed my hand on his shoulder and extended a party invite, “For Wind and Windfall.” He cracked a smile and accepted my invite.

  I didn’t make it a single pace away, before AvaSophia rushed up to him with their kids. This was as much their moment as it was his, and the look of hero worship from JoeClarence was breathtaking for a father. Even Kappa looked proud. He also looked happy that he wasn’t going into the dungeon. I waggled my eyebrow at him.

  “No way in hell,” replied the affronted Warg, as he moved behind JoeClarence. “I need to protect the house until Fenris returns.” JoeClarence, who couldn’t understand Warg at all, simply petted Kappa while smiling at his father.

  Second was Sir Dalton, standing firm in his plate armor. It sported a large fortress embossed onto his chest. That was apparently a symbol for General Narwal. Dalton was a tower of a man, looking every bit the Knight that he was. His massive two-handed sword crackled with lightning, even in its specially made sheath.

  I placed my hand on his shoulder and extended an invite, “For Wind and Windfall.” He pretty much ignored me, until the crowd cheered. Then, Sir Dalton beamed, glancing over at nine of his daughters. All were shifting between concerned and absolutely distraught. Rose was ugly crying. I caught sight of Ashe in one of my upstairs windows. She appeared to be far worse than any of her sisters.

  Next was SueLeeta. Seeing what was going down, she’d pulled up her Hunter’s hood and had her cloak billowing out behind her. Inside that was her well-crafted leather armor, her fighting kind instead of her traveling gear. It was still the most breast-squashing armor I had ever seen. Cat Thirty Two was even getting in on the act. The feline looked positively fierce as I placed my hand on her summoner’s shoulder.

  “For Wind and Windfall,” I said. SueLeeta broke character, grinning.

  “You need a better slogan,” she said.

  Standing next to her was Glorious Robert. I had never seen him fully decked out, and it caught me by surprise. The Fisherman gave Sir Dalton a run for his money. His heavy armor was a faint blue in color and adorned with several items I realized were commonly used on ships.

  Noticing my look, Glorious Robert grinned, “Master at Arms, subclass perk. Makes anything I wield a weapon,” he said confidently. Many of those implements were walking a fine line toward weaponry already. I suspected Glorious Robert would never be without something to kill someone with.

  I placed my hand on his shoulder, but hadn’t opened my mouth to say anything. I figured that Glorious Robert wasn’t one for the ceremony. He frowned at that.

  “For Wind and Windfall?” I said.

  “FOR WIND AND WINDFALL,” he bellowed back, directly into my face. The crowd cheered. “Don’t try to cheap out on me, ya skeezer. I live here, too.”

  Slightly deaf, I walked over to Bashara. She was wearing what appeared to be common robes. Looks could be deceiving, though. I activated my Journeyman Mana Control skill and threw a few points of Mana at Bashara. The action caused her outfit to begin to shimmer. It was easier now than the last time I’d tried this. It seemed like just yesterday I’d attempted the skill at the Wizard’s Lock. I spotted several arcane markings throughout the garment and realized it was heavily enchanted. Her staff was floating next to her in a far more obvious display of her power.

  I pressed my hand on her shoulder, “For Wind and Windfall.” She rolled her eyes.

  Next was Zorlando. His equipment was nice but not as well-crafted or powerful as everyone else's. However, he compensated by rigorously maintaining it. Its golden breastplate shimmered in the sunlight. His own sword and shield were positioned comfortably on his body, and he held himself like an old campaigner ready to go to battle. In his eyes, I could see a small aspect of wonder and fear.

  The wonder came from going into the dungeon, no doubt, but I didn’t recognize the fear. For an instant, I questioned where my confident, calculating Mercenary Captain had gone. Then, I tracked where his eyes were looking. They were trained on an upstairs window of my home. The same window I knew Ashe was at. I caught sight of a single puffy eye peering at Zorlando through the drapes.

  A hush went over the crowd as I placed my hand on his shoulder, “For Wind and Windfall.”

  “For Wind and Windfall,” screamed the crowd. Zorlando going was more real to them, and I understood why. The rest of us were adventurers, Chosen, if you wanted to call us that. Going into dungeons is what adventurers did. Zorlando was just a man, and normal men did not go into dungeons willingly. It was even more rare for a normal person to be invited into a party that was going into a dungeon. I had used my second to last slot on Zorlando, meaning he got a share of the experience and rewards.

  I was about to turn when someone shoved their way through the crowd and ran to stand next to Zorlando. I started to reprimand the trooper, until I saw her name tag.

  ● Jarra the Healer, Combat Medic

  ● HP 200/200

  ● Sta
mina: 140/140

  ● Mana: 20/20

  I glanced over to Zorlando and realized my mistake. A Professional got their buffs mainly from their skills and equipment, rather than from perks. Jarra the Healer, in her civies, didn’t have 200 Hit Points. Jarra the Combat Medic, decked out in her armor, did.

  I raised an eyebrow, and she flipped up her visor, beaming at me. That’s when I heard AvaSophia inhale sharply. Looking over Jarra, I saw the issue. She was wearing a Ring of Vitality that could only have been Fenris’ previous one. Badgelor had stolen the old one and given it to the person who needed it the most.

  “Request permission to accompany SueLeeta,” she stated in a confident voice.

  I glanced over to SueLeeta. The Hunter nodded proudly.

  “Granted, Combat Medic,” I said. Jarra marched over to stand behind SueLeeta, still beaming. Bashara looked like someone had just taken a dump in her robes. Thankfully, the Wizard knew better than to question Jarra’s presence while we were amongst every citizen of Windfall.

  “We go now to the dungeon, a place of terrible danger and great opportunity!” I yelled. “When we return, we shall tell you of its great mysteries.”

  “For Wind and Windfall,” someone yelled, and the rest of the crowd followed. The shouting was so loud that I couldn’t hear myself think. Glancing over to OttoSherman, who was sitting on our ox-pulled wagon, I signaled for our single wagon to move.

  The last sight the gathered crowd would see was their heroes marching off into the noonday sun.

  Chapter 23: The March to Dungeon

  Or, so I thought.

  “Why did everyone come?” I grumbled, as children dashed past me. They were playing some weird form of tag. The child that was ‘it’ pretended to be a dog while all the other children pretended to be badgers.

  “What else are they going to do? It's a holiday,” yawned Badgelor.

  “You mortals find just about any old thing interesting,” said Shart condescendingly. “You should have known that a dungeon run to a ruined castle was something everyone would want to see.”

  “Your people celebrated a caravan leaving,” grumbled Badgelor.

  I sighed, half-wishing I could get on the wagon. Alas, there was no room. OttoSherman had collected a bevy of beauties to sit with him on the benches. I was pretty sure our stuff was being used for seating in the rear, too, including all my rations.

  “Hope you like the taste of ass-flavored hardtack,” chuckled Shart.

  “There’s ass-flavored hardtack?” questioned Badgelor, smacking his lips.

  Sir Dalton rode up to me on his massive charger. With him on his horse and me on foot, it looked very much like he was leading the procession. I was positive that was the normally obtuse man’s intent.

  “Any chance you would let me ride?” I asked, and he chuckled.

  “Hardly! You have all that Hiking, and I’d hate for you to lose the opportunity to improve your skills,” replied Dalton.

  “I don’t think your horse is going to be much use in the dungeon,” I mentioned.

  “No, but I also have the Hiking skill. It is incredibly useful,” stated Sir Dalton. We walked a few moments in companionable silence before the Knight spoke again. “Jim, I was wondering if you might help me dissuade Jarra the Healer from accompanying us into the dungeon.”

  “She has enough Hit Points,” I stated casually.

  “It's not that. It's just that she’s a. . .” started Sir Dalton.

  “Woman?” I asked.

  Sir Dalton’s face contorted before he began to laugh. It was so bad, he nearly fell from his saddle. “For all your faults, you have a wicked sense of humor. Imagine telling SueLeeta she couldn’t do something because she was a woman. “ He wiped his eyes with his fingers.

  Ordinal, if nothing else, believed in the equality of the sexes.

  “No,” continued Dalton, still snorting. “She’s a co. . .er, Professional Healer, or Combat Medic. They have no place in a dungeon.”

  “Zorlando is coming,” I said.

  Sir Dalton paused. His thought pattern had not kicked in with the knowledge that Zorlando and Jarra were both Professionals. If one was to be removed from the party, so would the other. “Well, I owe Zorlando. I shall not be able to honorably request he remain outside. However, Jarra the Healer is important to the town.”

  “Zorlando is the main trainer for our forces and the second-in-command for all of Windfall’s armies. I’d argue that he’s more important to the town than she is,” I replied. “I just wouldn’t argue it to Jarra the Healer’s face.”

  Sir Dalton argued back, “But she is not part of the party. She is in additional danger.”

  “We will all be in danger, Sir Dalton,” I said calmly. “If you honestly feel that she needs to be removed, go talk to her and SueLeeta. Ask Jarra the Healer to stay behind. She’s about Margwal’s age. How would you talk your daughter out of doing something she really wanted to do?”

  Sir Dalton’s eyes had become hopeful when I started talking. By the time I reminded him of his daughter, they had turned positively downcast. “She would just do it anyway, no matter what I said,” he sighed. “She would at least feel guilty, though, so I would get a pie out of it.”

  Dalton was a brave man, just not a very bright one. However, there is stupid, and then there is the level of stupid talking to the ladies would be. Telling the girl you were courting that she had to stay behind while the girl that was courting you watched was beyond what even Dalton could manage.

  “They are squishy, support types anyway,” I said, “My plan is to keep them in the back at all times. If you need to protect the ladies, then feel free to do so. Neither of them are melee types like us.”

  That seemed to calm him down somewhat. “I shall tell her now that I will be her bodyguard whilst in the dungeon!”

  “Isn’t she sort of SueLeeta’s bodyguard?” I asked.

  “Technically, yes, I suppose so. I know! I’ll offer to protect SueLeeta,” concluded Dalton, because guarding the attractive woman that wants you instead of the attractive woman you want was such a great idea.

  “That works,” I replied. “SueLeeta won’t mind keeping you extra close.”

  Sir Dalton’s face paled. “Jim, I believe her intentions on me are less than noble.”

  That was an understatement. “I thought you and she had been dating?” I asked.

  “Absolutely not,” replied the Knight. “I have just been taking her out to eat at restaurants, going on long walks through the town’s parks, and I have been giving her small gifts to help her hunt.”

  “Ah, good point,” I said, then continued, “Out of curiosity, how would you date a woman?”

  “I haven’t dated a woman in some time. Most of my prospects are scared off by the thought of helping me raise my daughters,” replied Sir Dalton. “If I remember correctly, I would journey with a lady to a place where food was served or take them on meandering walks to nowhere. Also, giving them small gifts to show my affection was one of my favorite tricks.”

  We continued walking for a good minute as Sir Dalton, valiant warrior, considered that. I imagined a very slow gerbil pulling his fat furry ass off his comfy bed, heading to his little gerbil wheel, and taking painfully slow steps to try and make it move.

  “Oh, no,” muttered the Knight. He turned his horse to walk back further into the crowd.

  “That should be fun,” stated Shart.

  “Aren’t you concerned Bashara will see you?” I asked.

  “Which one is she again, the Wizard? It was so much easier to keep track of you meat sacks when it was just you. Anyway, Badgelor has been following her and growling the entire time. Look,” Shart pointed, “She’s trying unsuccessfully to get around him to come see you. She probably just wants to bitch about what’s her face coming.”

  I was actually grateful to Badgelor. I still had serious misgivings on bringing Bashara into the dungeon. Having her try something now would probably lead me to kick her ou
t of the party. Then again, that would mean leaving her in Windfall with no adventurers to serve as a counterbalance to whatever her next scheme was. I had also been advised numerous times that a Wizard was required, so acting on impulse right now could tank the whole quest.

  “Time to test my new level of the Administration skill and try some remote management,” I thought and opened up the town interface. I could see inside the empty Town Hall but not much else. I tried to activate the build menus, but they wouldn’t work. I cycled through everything, discovering that most of my options were greyed out.

  “Well, this is less than impressive,” I stated, finally giving up.

  “You are supposed to be using your staff to handle this stuff,” replied Shart. “You know, Tar and Boots.”

  I stared at him for a moment. “Do you mean Mar and Blots?” I asked.

  “If you say so,” the demon responded.

  “How do you not know their names?”

  “Why would their names matter to me?” Shart asked.

  I sighed. “I guess they don’t. Anyway, I can’t exactly contact them.”

  “You just need to talk into the room,” stated Shart.

  “Hello,” I spoke remotely. There was no response. I flicked back over to Shart. “That didn’t seem to work.”

  “You need to be louder than that,” he explained.

  “So, I’m trying to magically communicate with them, and I should yell?” I began.

  “No,” growled the demon.

  “One Magical Yell, coming up,” I replied. Mentally shouting, “Blots, Mar, get in here!”

  Within moments, my sense of the main room of the Town Hall was filled with my two scrambling staff members. Blots looked around everywhere. Mar was far too confused to do much more than blankly stare.

  “Good,” I continued, causing both men to look toward the podium in the main room. That was the place I had claimed first in Windfall. That action had ultimately claimed the entire city. As the focal point of the structure, the dais was apparently my means of communication with them.