Kit Falbo
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MwN Chapter Nine
🕑 Added 2024-07-08 21:34:25 +0000 UTCChapter Nine
Hunger, thirst, and the constant prodding to take care of those things from Hyancith through their bond woke her enough to sit up, take a bite of food and drink water before laying back down again.
She settled into accepting the new state of being. Her mana felt full, and while it usually stopped generating at that point, she could feel a new excess overflowing, pushing to keep the churning flow from [Mana Rotation] going. It made her feel better as she directed the excess trickle to brush the bits of skills that helped maintain her composure which stimulated minor aspects of all of them that infused her in the spaces between. It felt like keeping all your muscles activated or forcing yourself to think about all your movements while walking. She didn't want to ignore it or shove it in a hole like Tyler suggested, but if she could get it to be automatic, she knew it would be better.
"Grrup!"
"I'm Fine!" The necromancer sat up, ate, and drank some more. "See!" She said with her mouth full. Though she had to fight to keep it down, she noticed the annoyance helped push her new skill to keep running in the background.
She pulled herself out of bed and stripped off the used uniform. As gross as she felt, she automatically used her morning routine spell. With force, she clapped her mouth shut to keep from yelling, running the risk of Lord Tyler running to the rescue while she was naked.
It's not that the spell didn't work. It worked too well for the amount of effort and concentration put in. A routine second nature casting, and now she felt scoured clean, ready to pounce gracefully, and boosted like she took a shot of stamina potion. As if the spell had been warm water before but now was boiling. The mana dip of the casting was negligible when before it had left her drained. All her skill usage would need to be reworked and tinkered with.
Out of her bag, she pulled out her feminine travel outfit. The blue flowery dress might not suit visiting adventurers at the gym. At least this time, she wouldn't be mistaken for a boy. Long-sleeved, down to her ankles, she wouldn't be cold either. The new glove stayed.
Through their bond, Hyacinth indicated he would stay and rest. Harmony's internal struggles were shared slightly through their link, and he had his own work.
Carefully stepping out of her room, she peeked into Lord Tyler's, only to find it empty. Outside, she found the lord doing what she thought was the most boring training possible. There was a small grunt, and a shimmering shield covered his metal body. She knew in an attempt to shave a fraction of a second off its activation. Then he'd repeat the process again and again.
So focused he was on this that Harmony managed to get a dozen paces away before he noticed her. "You should still be resting." Concern was heavy in his voice.
"I.." Dizziness gripped her, but she stayed on her feet. "What I need is a distraction."
Harmony watched as Lord Tyler processed the request. Worry fluttered in her chest as his eyes turned from concerned to glowing with glee. This is what she asked for. [Mana Rotation] continued to churn in her chest. The annoyance, worry, and fear let her process and get used to the skill. This plan was working, but would it be worth it?
"I know exactly the place to go to. Just give me time to change." Tyler said.
He rushed past her, and the necromancer used her skills as a crutch to keep standing at the suddenness of being left alone.
He returned in finery, black silk pants, and a matching vest over white billowing sleeves. Not unarmed, a cudgel hung from the belt at his skills probably required a blunt object. How someone with the tank class could manage to go without some armor on, Harmony didn't know. The expensive clothes made her flowery woven dress feel like rags. The young lord started leading her out with an arm hooked around her elbow. She would have protested if it wasn't the distraction and assistance she needed.
Just outside the dungeon lodge, he hailed one of the carriages that always lurked about the area for wealthy clients, the kind Harmony knew overcharged. The pair were off, Tyler smiling and Harmony using the worry about that overly happy grin productively.
Harmony questioned this plan for the tenth time as she exited the carriage. She was greeted by the guild portion of the dungeon district, wealthier than areas she was used to and kept spotlessly clean as a sign of the guild's power. The kind of neighborhood with an invisible social line that those not guild members or wealthy rarely crossed without consequences.
The maid hoped Tyler would give her a tour of the guild house with their quest board and skill library. But then he turned and led her to a tavern two doors over named, The Up and Down.
Rather than a bouncer, like the establishments' Ambrosia or The Dig Boys had taken her, a hostess greeted them. No stern looks, but a beaming smile, while wearing a purple frilly outfit that was only moderately more covering than Harmony found her maid one to be. The almost perfect smile was recognizable as something similar to her [Poise on Bearing] skill. It came with a slight projection of contentment. "Lord Tyler, welcome back. How may I serve you and your guest."
"We'll be visiting The Down this afternoon."
"Of course. Today's password is Carbuncle."
The Up, from the glance Harmony caught, was a nice restaurant with a maiden playing the harp in the corner. The smells were delectable, the sounds calming, and the clients' outfits stood up to the selection the matriarch of the manor wore. That impression was all she got as she was brought down a steep set of stairs past the primary seating and kitchen.
Halfway down, the necromancer could taste a shift in the air. Recognizable but new in the strength of the feeling. Death felt heavy, palatable, and angry. It was a connection that the Dig Boys had explained to her when she felt it on her first trip down. Because her class shared the dungeons' deathly aspect, she felt what others didn't.
"Welcome to the Dungeon Clubhouse." Lord Tyler announced as the door swung open.
She'd heard rumors. The dungeon lay barely under the surface of most of the city. Dig deep enough, and you are in its domain. There were advantages to having space within a dungeon's domain. Inhibitions and fear lessened under its influence. Class skills increased quicker.
The scene through the open door showed what was underneath the mask of the business above. Sounds of a roaring party mixed with lively banter came through. Patrons dressed in finery or fully geared for battle mingled about. The quality displayed would beggar any lower-class delvers she'd hung out with. Harmony's outfit was closer to that of the staff, which she could pick out by their lack of extravagance, and even then, she felt lesser. The sense of death covered most of Harmony's taste and smell, but sour notes of alcohol drifted in the air, cutting into it.
"Oh." she breathed. Maybe this would do.
Lord Tyler escorted her in. She watched as a bouncer gave a friendly nod, and Tyler returned it with a smile that displayed familiarity.
A hostess slid through the crowd with the ease of a skill used. Dressed identically to the one upstairs except in a green dress. She curtsied, unafraid to show off what the outfit barely covered. "How unexpected, my lord. If you'd let me know beforehand via messenger, I could have had Fel and Pioney waiting in the private suites for you."
"No need, Collette. I brought my mai.. fren… acquaintance."
[Poise and Bearing], [Poise and Bearing], [Poise and Bearing] Harmony cycled in the face of Tyler's extracurricular activities and the glare Collette shot her when the lord wasn't looking.
"The suite can still be yours with all the tools and props for you and your acquaintance."
Harmony squeaked squeamishly, her reaction defeating her skill.
"No, no. We're here for the club's standard amenities. No need for a suite." Tyler assured her.
"As you wish. You know where to find me when you need higher quality service."
No rumors of Lord Tyler ever bringing girls back to the manor had ever passed the lips of the staff. And if anyone would know, it would be the staff. Suzzette's dalliances, Baccus's attempts at writing under a nom de plume, the servants knew it all. Not that there had been any doubt about the young lord's preferences due to his overly lingering gazes and his role in selecting the staff uniforms. Now she knew where he dealt with his urges and that they seemed to think she was competition.
"Harmony, let me introduce you to the best distractions this little slice of the world has."
"Delighted." She said with as much grace as she could towards Tyler's second attempt to introduce her to the clubhouse. [Mana Rotation] 's churn inside her soul was more uncomfortable than when she'd been assigned to clean Lady Dell's room after an explosive bout of stomach issues. That time she'd been able to shut down everything and focus on cleaning with her skills. Today's problem is an internal issue. She focused here on all the external stimuli.
Her eyes went from the everyday chaos to six large doors on the walls as Tyler talked and gestured to one, letting his words guide her rather than her unsettled center.
"That is the door to the dungeon market. I've purchased about a third of my collection from there. Tourists, scholars, and adventurers with items worthy of discretion end up having their items sold there under the obscuring eyes of the dungeon."
Yellow with a red coin painted on the center, Tyler Led her there. Harmony looked through the entrance as a man was leaving. Booths and tables fill the other room. A few merchants peered back, and she watched their eyes flicker to the lord next to her, their eyes widening with hunger and greed like a pack of wolves spying on a lost lamb.
"Not that one." She told Tyler, not feeling up to watching the man throw money around like it was candy at a carnival.
Tyler pivoted to the next door on the wall. Crossed swords decorated a green door. "Here is the combat room, where adventurers train their skills in the beneficial atmosphere of the dungeon."
All Harmony could sense in the atmosphere was death. Watching spoiled meatheads battle it out could be distracting. The door opened to a scene not so different from her time at the Viridian gym as a circle of men, and women yelled around a ring with coins in their hands. The difference here was the coins being silver and gold rather than copper and iron. Two fighters faced off in an arena of what looked like white sand, but she could tell it was fine bits of bone through her necromancer class.
A young woman with braided hair and detailed leather armor held hatchets in each hand. They glowed red, and she made a throwing motion, but without letting go, two spectral axe blades shot out toward her opponent, a young man in heavy armor.
A shimmering shield of energy enveloped him, blocking the strike. He lunged forward, and the axe wielder danced back away, rotating their positions in the ring. The whole series of skills repeated. The maid watched it happen four times in a row, more like a dance than a fight.
"This is a good one. I think Bronwyn has it." Tyler said excitedly, while Harmony could only feel slightly bored at the scene. The spinning inside her started to make her sick as her interest in the fight waned.
The glowing axes flew again. One ahead of the other. Staggered in their strike. The first one fizzled on the radiant shield. The second axe blade head sent the armored man to the ground.
"Winner, Bronwyn!" A bookie yelled, already swapping money with gamblers.
"How could you tell Bronwyn was going to win?" Harmony asked.
"Her skill activations looked more natural. Once trained as second nature, you can use it quickly and be flexible while getting the most out of the skill."
Harmony didn't see how that was better than the flexibility she got using synergy, creativity, and sometimes an extra push to get all the different uses she wrung from her skills. Seconds might matter and save lives when you need to activate a skill, but battering skills back and forth seemed like something other than a real fight.
"Ho, ho ho! If it isn't, the Little Lord coming to pay us a visit."
Harmony watched as Tyler cringed and shrunk more into himself at that voice. "Sir Maxwell, I thought you wouldn't be back until tomorrow after escorting Alison to the capitol."
Sir Maxwell stood at an opposing height, dressed in gray leather and with a broadsword at his hip. While his bushy black eyebrows and long wild-wavy hair framed his face. But it was his beard that you noticed first. Thick black braided hair came down from his chin. Gold and silver charms sparkling in the weave, clearly sculpted by a professional.
"She sent me back halfway there. I can only enter the dungeon there once I hit level fifteen. Are you interested in challenging me in the arena today?"
"I'm showing Harmony, the Dungeon Club. It's her first time here."
Maxwell leaned downward. "Aren't you a pretty little thing the little lord has brought to share?"
Harmony's anger flared. Does everyone here think she's a prostitute just because her clothes aren't as upscale as the clientele?
"Harmony will replace Alison for this weekend's dungeon run. Remember."
The maid could feel Sir Maxwell's interested look change in intensity. Her skin tingled slightly, a skill use. Probably something like her [Analyze]. Rude without permission. At under fifteen, the skill could only be so powerful. Even if he had it maxed, it would only show something vague like her combined levels. Details on skills or type of class would only show up sometimes.
"A new cleric to replace our old cleric?" Maxwell probed.
"I'm a necromancer."
In most circumstances, the class was looked down on, but it was considered one of the few solid options for the local dungeon. Harmony felt confident in selling herself here.
Not as much as the healer she'd be replacing. Healers were always valuable. They were as useful against the undead as she was against the living, which meant needing to get creative. Some liked to conflate healers with anti-necromancy when healing spells removed some dead flesh as part of the skill, but it was only a side effect.
"Come on, man, you know we need a healer," Maxwell complained anyway, straightening up and talking directly to Tyler, ignoring Harmony.
"When was the last time we got injured in the dungeon? That's with clearing it twice." Tyler answered.
"We should bring this up to a party vote, little lord."
"I pay all the guild fees, and you didn't complain when I had Jess join us a few years ago. Harmony will be at least that good."
Tyler didn't sound confident.
Maxwell puffed himself up, letting his grin widen. Harmony bristled at being talked over as she was positioned between them.
"That sun priestess had five levels on us and only lasted six trips before she out-leveled the dungeon. We'll be carrying the necro rather than her supporting us. The party isn't your toy to impress cute little things with."
The maid fumed. Sir Maxwell was not going to block Harmony's chance here. It wasn't like the favors she'd done for Tyler were easy. She worked to get leverage to get this chance. The necromancer poked the bigger man in the gut through a loose part in his armor. Her [Small Armor] skill had reacted to her anger and helped her see that weak spot.
"You. Me. First to fall in the ring. I'm not getting carried."
"That's not a good…." Lord Tyler started.
"Ha! I like your spunk. Let's go!" Sir Maxwell barked before he upped his volume and yelled to the crowd. "We have a challenge! Sir Maxwell the knight versus Harmony the necromancer. First to fall in the ring!"
"He was just angling to get more money from me," Tyler said, leaning and whispering to the maid.
Harmony grunted in response. Her mind was already focused on the match. This was the kind of distraction she craved. Incorporating the mana skill felt smoother and more in tune as she thought this out. She might be more of a worker than a fighter, but fighting was how the world worked. You needed to do it to advance in life. To evolve your class and profession and progress in life.
If she thought about it, she'd never challenge this match. An experienced adventurer of the guild who wants to make this their career. Only worked to get profession levels up for their own future evolution. The new skills hummed in her, craving a fight in a way that her other skills didn't. The dungeon atmosphere weakened fear and promoted conflict. A benefit and a curse of the club being located within its domain.
It helped that knight was one of those standard classes. It could evolve into something unexpected but was very basic. The houseboys Jimmy and Dugan had it. Being men, they liked to brag and talk to girls. Harmony had learned plenty about the class's skills and utility. [Horse handling], [chivalry], basic weapon combat and armor options, and foundational skills were most common. She knew her concern should be whatever skills Sir Maxwell picked up with skill stones. The most he could have at this point would be three, ideally, one taken up by a mana skill.
Her thoughts circled this information as she made her way onto the circle of white that represented the arena, armed only by her skills and armored only with her glove. Money exchanged hands, and the necromancer was sure they heavily favored the knight. Necromancers were rare in Hazeldown, and it was unusual when a local one like Harmony happened, which left tourists and youngsters visiting for their early levels. The dungeon supposedly took all the death energy in the area. Frost dungeons had fewer ice mages. Nature dungeons had fewer beast tamers and druids. That only left a few teachers around for Harmony to use if she had the money. Books and underhanded tricks taught by The Dig Boys had been her teachers. Do something surprising. Do something fast. Do something that means victory.
Sir Maxwell stood across from her in the arena, a toothy smirk visible through his dark beard. "Fight!" Someone yelled. Maxwell shot across the space between them like an arrow loose from a bow, his feet not touching the ground, sword raised back to strike.
Harmony realized the idea of quickly finishing the match wasn't only in her head as she faced down the skill from the knight flying towards her. [Small Armor] activated, and she interposed the small metal plate on the back of her hand against the strike. The skill clearly wasn't a simple block, and most of the force of the blow wasn't only deflected but bent around her shaking her hair and pulling her dress like she'd been hit by a strong wind. Not wanting to waste all of the force from the blow, the maid allowed the energy to move her to the side, and with a touch of grace, she danced out of the blade's reach. There she readied her attack.
Color flashed in her opponent's eyes. Some kind of mana sense, and she watched his defensive skill lock into place as the shimmer of steel coated him from head to toe. Maybe he expected a bone lance or flaming skull, some direct attack. No, she did what she knew best. The white of the arena floor waited; bits of bone powder chipped and grained. She tugged at it through the dungeon's domain. The stench of death flooded her nose and mouth as she snapped away from the resistance from the dungeon to her skills. [Dust] synergizing with [Manipulate Dead] allowed her to influence more of the powdered bone than either skill could handle alone. She pulled the floor out from beneath his feet, causing whatever metal statue he'd become to tip and crash to the ground.
Not done, she shoved that mess of bone into the joints and weak spots of Sir Maxwell's armor and fused it, locking him in place.
"Winner, Harmony!"
The adrenaline quickly faded, but the churning internally from the quick use of skills while still adjusting to [Mana Rotation] did not disappear. The rotting charnel house of death that flooded her senses in the dungeon's domain grew stronger like it was outraged at her taking control.
Necromancer, maid, champion of the moment, Harmony bent forward and threw up onto the white arena floor.
