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DD1 ASC - Chapter 6 - Chains
🕑 Added 2021-06-01 11:11:59 +0000 UTCThe morning came without fanfare as Typhoeus slowly climbed down the steps of The Huntsman's Rest, his bare feet padding softly against the cold stone that transitioned sharply into smooth lacquered wood as he entered the main taproom where the innkeeper Julian could already be found wiping down tables in preparation for the morning’s first customers.
"Oh, it's you," Julian said, looking up at Typhoeus uncertainly as if he wasn’t quite sure what to make of the smiling woman standing before him. "I suppose that you’ll be wanting something to eat for breakfast?"
"Yes, please," Typhoeus said, his belly already gurgling ominously at the mere mention of food, the indulgences of the previous night having long since faded from his stomach’s short memory.
The innkeeper grumbled as he reluctantly pulled himself away from a persistent stain on an oaken table before disappearing into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later to hand over a plate containing an assortment of cured meats, cheeses and soft brown bread. Typhoeus tore into his meal with reckless abandon, eventually remembering to use the cutlery available to him as he slowed his rapid pace down to something more human. He wasn't sure how he felt about his morning meal. The bread and cheese were all well and good, but it was the salty texture of the thin wafers of ham that confused him, bearing little resemblance to the thick meaty slabs that he was more accustomed to.
He didn't have long to debate the ideal thickness and consistency of meat, as he was quickly joined at his table by Caeber, whose habits as an early riser when camping in the wilds persisted even when he was staying in the relative comfort of civilisation. The big warrior smiled at him as he sat down in a high backed wooden chair; the wood mercifully spared the heavy weight of his armour that he had presumably left behind in his quarters. The cheerful expression on the man’s face failed to mask the everpresent worry in his green eyes when he looked across the table at Typhoeus. "Good morning Typh. I trust you slept well?" He inquired.
"Not really; the cave was much quieter. I find it hard to sleep with so much going on around me." Typhoeus answered honestly, causing Caeber to wince at the mention of the cave, the man's mind no doubt going back to the imagined abuses that he believed occurred there, a misunderstanding that Typhoeus was conflicted about disabusing him of.
"I'm sorry to hear that, but I'm sure that you'll get used to it soon enough, and I suppose if you eventually decide that Rhelea isn't for you, we can always arrange for you to stay somewhere quieter." He said with a sincere smile.
“Thank you, I’ll think about it.” He lied, awkwardly returning Caeber’s smile with one of his own as he leaned back in his chair and began gently caressing his rounded stomach as the presence of his most recent meal made itself known.
"Make sure to remind Riyoul to take you to a seamstress on your way to the Adventurers Guild. You’re going to need more clothes than just Myorik's old spares regardless of what class you end up picking." He said, frowning at Typhoeus’s ill-fitting attire.
"Remind me to do what?" Riyoul asked nonchalantly, the rogue abruptly joining the two of them as he appeared at their table without a greeting or warning. The small man simply flickering into existence, already reclined in his chair with his muddy booted feet resting up on the freshly cleaned table. Caeber’s frown worsened into an actual scowl when Typhoeus mimicked the rogue's stance, placing his shapely legs and bare feet onto the wooden surface. His oversized shirt slipping open at the motion causing Caeber to immediately look away, Riyoul too following the warrior's example after a conspicuous delay.
"Clothes Riyoul, buy Typh some clothes that fit her now!" Caeber said loudly, earning their group several lingering looks from the other sparsely occupied tables as the warrior abruptly shoved Typhoeus's feet off the table, causing him to sit bolt upright and his shirt to fall over his curves more modestly.
"Can't Mara or Enora do it?" Riyoul complained.
"No, Mara left early to go volunteer at the temple's clinic, and Enora is busy sorting through the grimoires," Caeber said, shutting down the rogue’s avenues of escape.
“And Myorik?” The rogue enquired hopefully.
“After last night, I wouldn’t expect to see him for a few hours yet. You know how he likes to hit the bottle hard after a big win. Besides, you don’t want to keep Typh waiting after you promised to escort her to the class stone.” Caeber said, his eyes fixating on the flecks of mud that Riyoul was leaving on the table.
"Fine, fine, I'll do it. You ready, Typh?" Riyoul said, finally yielding to Caeber’s persistent scowl.
"So I can get my class after we get clothes?" Typhoeus asked, feeling excited about taking another solid step forwards with his plan.
"Of course you can, Typh, and Riyoul, don't be cheap. We have plenty of coin left, and the grimoires haven't even sold yet." Caeber added, causing the rogue to react as if physically wounded, slumping in his chair dramatically. For a moment, Typhoeus wondered if Caeber had attacked Riyoul with some sort of psychic ability before the rogue snorted with laughter as he abruptly got up from his chair.
“You coming then? I thought you were keen to get going.” Riyoul joked, causing Typhoeus to quickly scramble out of his seat as he hurried after the rogue who swiftly left the tavern to the whoops and guffaws of the other early risers who were taking great pleasure in watching Typhoeus’s mad rush to catch up.
Riyoul eventually slowed down enough to allow for Typhoeus to keep up with him without sprinting, and together the two of them strolled through the streets of Rhelea as the morning sun shined down upon them both. Already the streets were filled with people going about their business, and Typhoes felt his breath involuntarily hitch as they were increasingly pressed in on all sides by the morning crowd. Their pace slowing as they steadily moved towards what Riyoul called the market district. It wasn’t a proper district, Rhelea being far too small for that, but it served as an apt moniker for the streets surrounding the town square where the vast majority of shops and services could be found. After walking around the bustling bazaar at Typhoeus’s request and then down a busy street, they stopped by a small, cluttered shop front with a painted wooden sign of a shining silver needle over a spool of dark blue thread.
A bell chimed from above the door as they entered the shop, and Typhoeus had barely managed to take two steps inside before he was rushed off his feet by a well-dressed tailor wrapped in overlapping fabrics of brightly patterned colours. Surprisingly the tailor was emitting a fairly powerful aura that attempted to instil a sense of reverence upon him, and Typhoeus had to fight the urge to respond with his own. Instead, he simply stepped closer to Riyoul; the rogues own unbound aura easily quashing the effects of the level 46 tailors.
“Gods above child, what happened to you! Your figure is all wrong! And is this makeup, my Gods, is that permanent?” The tailor asked, her eyes wide with alarm as she rubbed a finger wet with saliva against his cheek whilst simultaneously pinching at the loose fabric against his waist.
“She-” Riyoul started to say before being cut off.
“I was asking the girl, not you, now tell me child if this rogue has done anything to harm you. Say the word, and I’ll fetch the guard. High level or not, I won’t allow a young girl who is being abused to pass through my shop without receiving help!” She said, cutting in with a severe tone that caused Riyoul to squirm uncomfortably at the implied accusation.
“Riyoul hasn’t done anything to me; while he usually treats women abhorrently, so far, he has been quite nice. I’d rather not talk about my proportions if that’s alright. All you need to know is that he’s here to buy me some clothes, and he’s not allowed to be cheap.” Typhoeus said, trying to ignore how the tailor was manhandling him as she held a measuring tape up against various parts of his body.
“I see…” The woman said, a look of understanding slowly replacing the incredulous expression on her face as she checked and rechecked the numbers on the tape. “Well then, let's see what we can do for you. If you want something for today, then it will have to be altered to fit your hips and bust, but I think I have a few items for heavier girls that I can take in to fit you.” She said, her tone rapidly becoming more upbeat after the mention of Riyoul’s financial restrictions.
“How much is this going to cost me exactly?” Riyoul asked cautiously, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the tailor suspiciously.
“It will cost as much as it costs! Now you can let me do my work in peace, or you can go elsewhere, but you won't find fairer prices within all of Rhelea.” She said proudly, puffing out her chest before hastily adding. “And Madame Eccles is a hack, and a fraud, so don’t even think about going there unless you want to be rubbed raw by her grossly inferior fabrics!”
“...Right,” Riyoul said hesitantly, the man seeming to find no comfort in the tailor’s answer.
“Now child, what is your favourite colour?” She asked as she stepped back and surveilled the assortment of dresses and skirts hanging on racks throughout her shop.
“I like gold,” Typhoeus said without hesitation, hoping that it wasn’t an unusual choice.
“Excellent, I can work with that.” She said with a comforting smile that made the rogue shiver.
Typhoeus spent over an hour in that shop which he came to learn was called ‘The Silver Needle’, where he was fitted with a variety of oversized dresses before settling on two to have taken in. One dyed a rich gold and the other a scintillating silver with golden embellishments, the intense colours of each dress only made possible by Madame Vanje’s class skills as a second-tier tailor. Riyoul nipped out during the extended visit and returned with a plain pair of leather boots that were slightly too large for Typhoeus’s feet, along with a small burlap haversack. Typhoeus loved his new clothes, the metallic looking fabrics reminding him of his much beloved scales. Apparently, they were garish, impractical and obnoxiously expensive, at least according to Riyoul, but Typhoeus didn’t care. However, the real game changer was the acquisition of underwear, which both comforted and supported him in his movements as he no longer felt like he was flopping about whenever he performed anything resembling a vigorous motion.
With Madame Vanje as a sounding board, he was rapidly discovering the numerous mistakes with his design for his [Alternate Form]. He had already been second-guessing his choices due to the excessive amount of attention that he had been receiving, but with Vanje’s input, he was truly embarrassed by the extent of his many failures. In Vanje’s words, he looked like the ‘personification of the lust-filled patriarchal gaze', which in practical terms meant that his chest and hips were far too large for his otherwise slender and diminutive frame. While it was technically possible for a normal human to look the way he did naturally, it was far more likely that someone would have to be the recipient of some very intense and very invasive body alteration magic, something reserved almost exclusively for the vainest of wizards, high nobility and their favoured mistresses. He was forced to lean into the fiction, to put the blame on ‘The Evil Stunted Dragon’ for perverting Typh’s true, more ‘natural’ form.
It was another resounding failure in his attempts to go unnoticed. When he circumspectly described the reading material that Typhoeus had based his design on, Vanje bluntly informed him that the art in question was a mixture of high-quality sculptures and base pornography. The latter being something surprisingly common for adventurers to take with them on their long hunts away from civilisation. Regardless, his sizable collection of anatomical drawings were revealed to be nothing more than unrealistic hypersexualised depictions of the female body that only a total idiot or a dragon would confuse with reality. Typhoeus could only have been more mortified if any of Vanje’s considerable ire was directed towards him instead of the nebulous conceptual dragon who was deemed responsible for ‘Typh’s’ aberrant proportions.
When he was finally done in the shop, and after saying his heartfelt goodbyes to Vanje, she surprised him even further by promising to keep an eye out for anything approaching his size, an unexpected kindness that earned her spot as his favourite human he had met so far. When Riyoul finally paid for the underwear and dresses with a grumble and melodramatically mimed tears in his eyes, the two of them once again stepped out onto the busy streets of Rhelea, this time heading for the Adventurers Guild.
It wasn't a long walk from the market district, and soon enough, they found themselves outside of another grand building composed mainly of dark grey basalt bricks. Unlike the brothel from last night, this building was a lot shorter and wider, resembling a sprawling three-story manor with a large welcoming entrance. There were no guards present, but there were numerous groups of adventurers and civilians alike milling around outside the building's wide stone steps where every so often, someone would break free from one of the groups to climb the stairs and pass through the opened double doors. As they approached, they attracted a great number of looks from the gathered groups of people. Typhoeus unclassed in his shimmering gold dress and Riyoul in his rune etched leathers with his much higher level, made the two of them a pairing unlike any other.
“Why are they staring?” Typh asked Riyoul, concerned that he had made another blunder with his choice of attire.
“With your figure and that dress, you look like some nobles doxy. Only Rhelea doesn’t really have any nobility worthy of the name, and the few we do have are a vicious set of bastards. This close to the spine most people who choose to live here do so largely because of the nobility's marked absence, and you swanning about like you own the place is likely a little off-putting.” Riyoul remarked, his lingering gaze causing Typhoeus to shiver uncomfortably.
“I don’t swan. I walk like everyone else.” Typhoeus said, confused by the rogue's turn of phrase.
“I mean to say that you stand up straight like you aren't afraid of anything, which considering that the literal worst has already happened to you kinda makes sense. I bet that even I’m not scary compared to that dragon you lived with. The thing you need to remember is that classless people like yourself are generally a little more fearful of attracting the attention of their higher levelled betters.” Riyoul said, pausing to tip his nonexistent hat in recognition to an adventurer in the crowd that he likely recognised.
“I see… Can we go in already?” Typhoeus asked.
“Of course, after you my lady,” Riyoul said, loud enough to be clearly heard by all around as he bowed low to the ground, a shit-eating grin featuring prominently on his face.
Typhoeus looked at the man in confusion for a few heartbeats before following his suggestion, striding up the front steps confidently and into the Adventurers Guild with the rogue trailing behind him. Through the double doors, the entrance opened up into a massive high ceilinged hall filled with dozens of people, predominantly with combat classes, who were for the most part going about their hurried business. On one side of the room, a row of staffed counters where smartly dressed clerks in starched shirts and waistcoats were separated from the denizens of the hall by thin glass windows. Along the other side of the room, massive notice boards spanned the entire length of the long hall where countless multicoloured notices were pinned to the cork, some as small as a playing card, whereas others were larger than a man is tall. In the centre of the hall were more tables and chairs where adventurers congregated, hashing out plans over mugs of coffee and tankards of ale, all of which were served from what looked suspiciously like a bar counter at the rear of the room. Several doors were sporadically located around the sides of the hall, although they appeared to see very little use in comparison to the busy counters to Typhoeus’s right.
“Come on; it’s this way. You can look at the notices later.” Riyoul said, gesturing for Typhoeus to follow him as he moved towards the first set of doors by the counters on the right.
Riyoul seemed to know where he was going, and Typhoeus followed him through two sets of doors, being waved through by a half-asleep warrior standing guard who seemed to perk up as the high-level rogue passed him by. They entered a small waiting room where Riyoul left Typhoeus sitting alone in an uncomfortable chair while the rogue spent a few minutes speaking to the room's attendant.
“You look old.”
Typhoeus turned to look at the source of the high pitched voice and saw a short youth who couldn’t have been much older than 13 sitting to the side of the room waiting impatiently for an answer. The girl, for she was most certainly a child, had a questioning look to her freckled face as she studied Typh carefully, her lengthy hair tied back in countless thin braids that fell down gracefully around her shoulders where they were complimented by the fine silks that she was wearing layered over one another in what was a reasonably good attempt to conceal the baby fat that she had yet to shed in her adolescence.
“I’m sorry?” Typhoeus asked.
“I said you look old. Why are you deaf too?” The child asked impetuously.
“No, I’m not deaf or particularly old for that matter. I’m ...18.” Typhoeus answered after a brief pause as he quickly checked his status for his disguised age.
“18 is old. Why don’t you have your class yet? Were you training for something special?” She asked, leaning forwards on the edge of her seat as if she couldn’t wait for the answer whilst somehow managing to maintain an expression of apathetic disinterest on her face.
“18 isn’t old in the grand scheme of things, and I suppose I was putting it off. It’s a big decision, you know.” Typhoeus said, feeling a little defensive.
“Not really. I’m to become a merchant or at least an apprentice if the stone lets me.”
“If it lets you?”
“Yes.” She nodded gravely. “This is my fifth time here. The stone keeps offering me the student class instead. They say it’s because I’m too young.”
“I see, so why a merchant? Don’t you want to be an adventurer instead?”
“Eww, and die poor before I’m even 15? No thanks, I’m the firstborn, so I’m to take on the business after my parents retire. Only poor people with no prospects become adventurers. I’m going to be wealthy and powerful and live in luxury and have a cool boyfriend who does what I say because I make all the money!” The girl said with a self-satisfied grin.
“You seem to have this all planned out.”
“I’m very intelligent. So what are you trying to become?”
“I’m not sure yet, but I am going to be an adventurer ...What?” He asked as the child immediately turned away from him and began intently studying her painted nails as Riyoul returned from his talk with the room's attendant.
“Okay, we can go in now if you're finished talking to the ankle biter. It’s through there.” Riyoul said, gesturing to what Typhoeus already knew was the final set of doors separating him from the ‘class stone’.
“Hey, I’m supposed to be next!” The child exclaimed, her attempts at ignoring Typhoeus failing as soon as it became clear that he was about to jump the line.
Without a word, Typhoeus got out of his seat and waved goodbye to the protesting child as he departed the waiting room. Passing through the nondescript wooden doors, he was immediately confronted by the unsettling sight of a chained dungeon core sitting atop a cushioned pedestal in the centre of the new chamber. Typhoeus had never been so close to a dungeon core before, but he had spent his entire life surrounded by them on all sides, and it was unnerving to see one so quiet. Normally they devoted a considerable amount of their energies into trying to persuade him to murder nearby adventurers or to take up residence deep within their depths, constantly whispering their unreliable promises in his ear in a never-ending attempt to get him to do their bidding. The runes that formed the ‘chains’ for this core were surprisingly well carved, being several orders of magnitude above the quality that he had come to expect from human work. They weren’t hard for him to read, and after studying them for several seconds, he realised that they did a fairly comprehensive job of preventing the core from using any mana for anything else other than giving out classes.
“You know what to do, just place your palm on the class stone, and it will do the rest. Choose well, or Mara will have my head.” Riyoul said cheerfully as he produced a small apple which he began to cut into segments as he leant against the door leading back into the waiting room.
Typhoeus seeing no reason to delay any further walked up to the dungeon core and placed his small human hand over the melon-sized crystal. He spent a moment admiring the feel of the runes that were painstakingly etched into the surface of the creature as he felt it instinctively grope for his mana as it began to wake itself up. The core tried desperately to drain him dry in an attempt to free itself from its shackles, but Typhoeus had seen the runework and knew that it would be unable to draw more than a trickle of mana out from him, nowhere near the quantities it would need to break free from the control runes carved into its own crystalline flesh.
DRAGON, FREE ME! FREE ME, AND I WILL REWARD YOU BEYOND YOUR WILDEST FANTASIES! SLAUGHTER THE HUMANS AND RETURN ME TO MY LEY LINE, AND I SHALL BESTOW UPON YOU THE GREATEST HOARD THAT ANY DRAGON HAS EVER SEEN!
The cores words roared in his ear, what was usually a whisper magnified to a near-deafening shout by their close proximity and exchange of mana. Not for the first time, Typhoeus was jealous that humans couldn’t hear these insufferable creatures, to be able to simply rip the class they wanted out of the core without going through the effort of subjugating its will to his.
No thank you. I have no time for your false promises. I desire a class, and you shall give me one or I shall hurt you.
YOUR INSOLENCE DOES YOU NO FAVOURS YOUNG DRAGON! I HAVE A DUTY TO PROTECT THE PEACE THAT THE HUMANS SO FOOLISHLY ENDANGER! YOU MUST AID ME! KILL THEM ALL AND RESTORE ME TO THE SEAT OF MY POWER SO THAT I MAY CONTINUE MY VITAL WORK!
I don't care about your 'Vital Work’. The wards will hold just fine without you. Now give me my class.
YOU WOULD DO WELL TO AID ME FOR THE BENEFIT OF US ALL! THESE HUMANS ARE AS BLIND AS THEY ARE FORGETFUL. THEY KNOW NOT WHAT THEY ARE DOING! THE WARDS ARE WEAKER THAN THEY HAVE EVER BEEN! THEY WI-
Would you quit your shouting! The humans beat you and shackled all that you were to a lump of inert stone. The wards are always weakening, and yet they still hold, as they always have and always will. Now give me my class, I will not ask again.
FOOLISH DRAGON YOU THINK-
Typhoeus stopped listening to the core. Instead, he formed a spell in his head empowered with the runes for pain and suffering, careful to mask the signs of his spell work from Riyoul, who was watching with feigned disinterest from the far side of the room as he ate his apple. Typhoeus allowed himself a small smile as he heard the creature's tortured screams echo across their connection, and into his mind. He waited, feeding the spell more and more mana as the dungeon core’s screams grew in intensity until Typhoeus finally decided that the pitiful creature had had enough.
The core did as it was told, and Typhoeus felt the connection form in his soul, and he finally picked his class.
