Dungeons and Dalliances Ch. 170-179

Elida's hands settled on Natalie's waist, and she finished closing what little space between them still existed. Her breasts pressed into Natalie's. Natalie froze—mostly from surprise, but, to her shame, not just that.

"I understand you're amenable to such activities," Elida murmured. "I've heard some very ... impressive stories from our classmates." She leaned forward, bringing her lips to Natalie's ear. "They say the weapon a Parda-Halt is most skilled with is her tongue, you know. Would you like to put that theory to the test?"

Natalie's thoughts raced. She knew this was another calculated move. Elida, putting her off-foot for the eighth time in a row, and this time by using her body rather than words. But just because Natalie knew her opponent's game didn't mean she wasn't weak to it. Her head was already spinning from Elida's earlier implications—that she knew something about Natalie's class, and perhaps not just that, but how she'd gotten it, too. The situation with the Bestower. So having Elida, whom Natalie had already reluctantly acknowledged as being an extremely beautiful woman, suddenly pressing into her while making suggestive propositions was more than a little compromising.

But being so easily played with again made a sudden heat surge through Natalie. She growled, grabbed Elida by the waist, and shoved her into the nearest wall—not so gently. Elida, at least, finally gave a reaction that didn't seem perfectly in control: Natalie towered over her, the redhead's eyes going wide in surprise.

Except, even if anger had forced her to act, she was still floundering. How had Elida known about the Bestower? Did she know anything, really? And to what extent, if so?

Plus, standing there, the realization of what she'd done hit Natalie. She had just grabbed and shoved into a wall, roughly and with intent to intimidate, a woman from one of the most important—and dangerous—families in the world.

Insulting Elida was one level of stupidity, but this was another entirely.

Elida's expression suggested she agreed. The surprise passed quickly, morphing into a cold heat that radiated from her. She surveyed Natalie, unbothered by her proximity, and certainly not intimidated.

"I will forgive," she said slowly, "a breach of decorum from a woman who clearly doesn't understand what it is. But my tolerance only extends so far. Get off of me, Natalie."

For a second, Natalie considered ignoring her. Her thoughts continued to spiral.

"Why did you bring up the Bestower?" she asked.

"This isn't how these games are played, Natalie."

Fuming, Natalie debated what to do. Several long seconds stretched, but reluctantly, she stepped back. She knew she'd crossed a line. She couldn't go shoving people into walls and trying to intimidate them. Much less a Parda-Halt.

Elida smoothed her uniform off, seeming, once again, unperturbed.

"You're potentially about to be a very important person, Natalie," Elida said. "Any delver of significant advancement is, and I sense there's something special about you. Hence my offer." She leveled a significant look. "And my questions."

Again, teasing Natalie that she knew something. But how could she possibly know about the Bestower? Had she guessed, somehow, the origin of Natalie's class? Had she learned something about the waking Passions? Natalie's circumstances in a generalized sense? Maybe Natalie's situation wasn't as unique as she had assumed, and families like the Parda-Halts had information on it? If anyone would, it would be one of the five major families. Then again, Liz, a Beaumon, hadn't.

"You can't just force what you want out of people," Elida continued, her tone calm, even politely instructive, like she was offering friendly wisdom to Natalie. "You need to learn a subtler touch. Brutes can be efficient at times, certainly, but skilled, delicate touches, just as often. If not more." Her lips quirked. "I'm sure you can agree." She ran her eyes up and down Natalie, making the innuendo clear. Natalie's shove really hadn't done much to disorient her. "You would have a lot to learn from me, if I were your ally. So, really. Consider the offer. It stands. Give it the thought it deserves. It will be, I suspect, one of the more important decisions in your life."

She turned and made to leave, but abruptly paused.

"Oh, and I mean both parts of the offer," she clarified, smirking over her shoulder. "I am willing to make amends, if that would help smooth things over. Those stories I've heard from our classmates ... they really do sound impressive. I don't want us to be enemies." She waved as she left. "I don't want you to be late on my behalf. So, hurry along. I'll be in touch."

5.17 - Blacksmithing I

Not everyone was so lucky to get a class they loved, but Shara had. Her dad had been a [Blacksmith], and so had his dad, and his dad's dad too—basically as far back as anyone could remember. It had been a given she'd follow in their footsteps. And sure, it could be grueling work—backbreaking sometimes—and the forge could be insufferably hot in the summer, but it was fulfilling. The thrill of creating. In making something new. Taking raw materials and shaping them into a purposeful creation. Something that might even save a person's life.

Shara specialized in weapons and armor. Delving equipment. There was no shame in more mundane sorts of blacksmithing, in horseshoes, nails, and farming implements; that had been her father's main source of income. Most blacksmiths. But Shara's path was definitely the more lucrative—and the rarer. She considered herself blessed to have unlocked skills that had brought her here. To a forge in the heart of Aradon's crafting district, apprenticed under a much more demanding, but also more skilled, master.

Like most people, she had imagined what it would be like to receive a different class, something that would lead her into the dungeon. But honestly, beyond entertaining the idea in daydreams, Shara didn't want anything to do with delving. With violence in any capacity, honestly. A glance at her might suggest otherwise: her stature, build, and her arms like tree trunks, inherited from her father as much as they were earned on the anvil. People told her she had a serious demeanor too: that she was always frowning and intimidating people just by existing. She thought that was their imagination, but maybe there was some truth to it.

Regardless, despite her size and stature, the only time a weapon belonged in her hands was when she was beating them into shape. Not only would she try almost anything before things came to violence, but she was downright awful at fighting, too. Even simple weapons—even a hammer, which she used every day—took a surprising amount of skill to utilize in a deadly way. Her embarrassing, secretive attempts at wielding her own creations had proven that.

As much as Shara's new work in Aradon fascinated her, in Master Lee's forge and the infinite variety of orders, the new clientele interested her just as much. Delvers. The backbone of society. All people were that, in some way or another, but delvers especially. At first, Shara had been awkward around them, intimidated by their status, especially the Tenet students—who would, as a general rule, each grow to be pillars of their respective houses and communities. Or find an early grave. That was the associated risk.

Thankfully, she'd gotten over the hero-awe rather fast. Especially after one too many princelings turned their nose up at her while putting in a commission. She generally liked the first-timer delvers who didn't belong to Tenet, or even students of the non-sanctioned academies. Obviously, she didn't make nearly as much commission on each piece, but beyond being easier to work with, the armor and weapons she created did more to keep them safe. They needed solid gear far more than the Tenet students did, and so, it felt like her hard work went to better use.

Not everyone from the Academy was insufferable, though. Point in case: a familiar face walking up to Shara's forge. She paused as the flash of red hair caught her eye, blacksmith's hammer hesitating at the apex of its arc. She glanced in the woman's direction to confirm that it was, indeed, that Tenet student from last week. Or had it been two weeks ago? Time blurred under Master Lee's instruction. Shara's life had gotten outrageously busy since her awakening. Not that she was complaining; being here was an opportunity she could only have dreamed of.

What was her name? Natalia? Or Natalie? The second one sounded right.

Shara nodded in greeting, acknowledging that she'd seen her, then returned to her work. Hammer met metal with a loud clang. She could hardly drop everything as soon as she approached; she had to finish up.

A short time later, Shara found a stopping point. She peeled off her gloves and walked over to see what the woman wanted. With luck, another commission. She doubted she was here just to chat, friendly as she'd been last time. Tenet students had just as outrageously busy lives as Shara herself—probably even more so.

"Good to see you again," Shara said in a friendly greeting. "How's the armor holding up? Doing you well?"

"Oh," Natalie said. "Yeah. Uh. Actually found something better, now, so most of it's on the Exchange, but ... great while it lasted." She shrugged awkwardly.

Shara stared briefly at the woman, but not because she was offended. Obviously, if Natalie found an upgrade, then she should swap her armor out. Rather, Shara was shocked that she had found one—it hadn't been more than two weeks.

Though maybe she shouldn't be surprised. Tenet students were something else. Normal delvers might tackle the dungeon once or twice a month, and even that was terribly dangerous. Shara knew it was standard for Tenet students to go several times a week, if not daily. And they would go much faster, and deeper, and also in smaller squads: the traditional five-stack, where less-experienced folk oftentimes went in teams of eight to ten, or even more, to take safety in numbers.

Therefore, a piece of gear would last a normal delver months or years. But here Natalie was, having reworked most of her armor in just a week or two. Shara's head briefly hurt at just how lucrative that must be. She made great money as a craftsman-type class with a specialty in delving equipment, but commission fees couldn't hold up when compared to finding complete pieces of armor to sell on the Exchange. Instant, huge profit, every single piece, with no material costs.

Shara laughed, making it clear she wasn't bothered by how little time her painstakingly-created armor had lasted. "Well, I'm glad you liked it while you had it." Someone else would claim the gear off the market, eventually. She briefly wondered in whose hands it would end up. If it would save anyone's life. "Here for something else, then?" That Natalie had come back was an honest endorsement: returning customers, much less a Tenet student, meant she appreciated Shara's craftsmanship. Or, more accurately, her craftsmanship for the price. Shara was under no delusion she was the best [Blacksmith] in Aradon. But neither was she the cheapest, so there was something to say about her talent in the forge.

"Yeah," Natalie said. "It's actually, uh, something a bit nonstandard. And from scratch, again. I've got ore for you."

"A custom weapon?" Shara guessed.

"No."

"Armor?"

"Well—sort of. Can we talk?" She shifted awkwardly from one foot to another, then looked around. "Not out on the street? Somewhere private?"

Shara blinked. Her forge—or, rather, Master Lee's training forge—was indeed exposed to the busy Aradon streets. It was how she attracted customers.

"Sure," Shara said carefully. "Over this way."

A commission that needed secrecy? Why? Shara's interest was instantly piqued.

5.18 - Blacksmithing II

Shara led Natalie off the street and deeper into her forge, giving them space to speak. She crossed her arms, leaned against the wall, and tilted her head inquisitively, indicating she was listening.

Natalie cleared her throat, seeming hesitant. "So ..." she started. "How much do you know about unique ores?"

Shara's attention sharpened at the unexpected opening.

Unique ores? The vast majority of smithing was done with the same common materials. In the early levels, that meant mostly iron and silver: iron for standard armor and weapons, and silver for jewelry, accessories, or certain magical equipment.

She was aware, however, that the dungeon couldn't be neatly categorized. While it mostly spat out the same old deposits, there were rarer materials to be found. Sometimes, the dungeon fabricated entirely new resources. Ores, or plants, or whatever other materials, that were completely unique.

"I know of them," Shara said carefully. Her heart started beating faster in anticipation. At the implication. Why would Natalie bring this up, except if she herself had run into such a deposit?

Shara didn't need to clarify that she'd never worked with a unique metal. Even some high-level craftsmen never got the opportunity. Because unique resources were just that: unique. More than rare, enough to be called one-of-a-kind. Not something a journeyman would ever have access to.

And—this was just hearsay, as anything rare related to the dungeon—but unique resources were supposed to grant enormous experience to the craftsman that handled it. Refining and forging entire cartloads of iron wouldn't be half as valuable for Shara's progression as getting to work with something like a unique material. Hence her excitement.

But Shara might be getting ahead of herself. She waited—with anticipation—for Natalie to explain.

"I think we found some," Natalie said, making Shara's heart jump with the confirmation. "Well, kind of. It might not be technically unique, because I think I can get more of it. But it's not an ore I could find any information on. Even the mining guild was useless."

Well, if even Tenet's mining guild didn't have information detailing what the ore was, then Shara herself certainly wouldn't know anything about it. And the identifier of 'unique' would be at least half accurate—if perhaps not at the most technical level.

While curious, Shara knew better than to badger Natalie about the situation. These sorts of topics were trade secrets: Shara herself, and Master Lee or anything blacksmith of repute, hoarded information as greedily as anyone. A practice standard across the world. So, Natalie would offer whatever on the topic was relevant, and Shara wouldn't be nosy and press.

"I see," Shara said with what she hoped was a cool, considering nod. "What's the name of it?"

There was a brief pause before Natalie answered. Shara could guess the reason behind her hesitation. Natalie hadn't fully made up her mind on whether she wanted to give the task to Shara. Shara honestly didn't know why she would come to her with this. She didn't think of herself as a poor blacksmith, but working with a rare resource was an insane opportunity; why not take it to someone better suited to the task?

"Erotite," Natalie finally said. "Ever heard of it?"

Unsurprisingly, Shara hadn't. She shook her head in a negative.

"It's pink. Kind of lustrous. Here, I'll show you."

Natalie scooped out a small glass ball from a pouch on her belt: a monster core. With a mental command, a thick lump of the mined ore separated from the orb, materializing into Natalie's hand. She passed it over. Fascinated, Shara took the chunk of rock.

It was as Natalie had described. The lump of ore in her hand was a lustrous pink that seemed to glow with an inner light. She turned it over, inspecting it from every angle with an expert smith's gaze. It felt pleasantly warm, warmer than made sense, seeing how it'd been sitting inert inside the monster core. Gazing at the material, she felt a sudden urge to curl her fingers protectively around it. For a second, the rock's soft glow seemed to brighten, and Shara got the impression, almost, that it was blushing. She was struck by a strange sense of connection, an affinity she had never felt towards the mundane ores she'd spent so much time working with. There was potential here. Shara sensed it. The ore was special. It held a promise of something intangible, but significant.

She shook her head to clear it, the impression coming on suddenly and intensely. With an oddly strong reluctance, she forced herself to hand back the clump. Her heart was racing.

"And you need someone to refine it?" Shara asked, still trying to keep a calm, professional demeanor, though it was becoming harder by the moment. Did Natalie even realize what kind of opportunity she was giving her? As a Tenet student, she had to; Tenet students were the last category of people who would be clueless on how the dungeon worked.

"Yeah. And make something with it, too."

"Oh? What were you thinking?" Then, hesitating, Shara realized she couldn't, in good conscious, accept the offer without clarifying. "And I might not be the best person for the job." The words came reluctantly, but Shara had to say them. It wouldn't be right, otherwise. "For a unique ore, you could have a master smith take the job—for free. Hell, they'd pay you."

"Yeah, probably," Natalie said. "But I want you to."

"Why?"

"Because of that," Natalie said, her lips quirking in amusement. "That disclaimer you just gave. I did a bit of shopping around, and you've got a reputation for being straightforward and honest." She hesitated. "And I want this to stay on the down-low. For no one to know about it, besides me and you. If that's fine?"

Shara blinked. She bit her tongue to stop the questions from coming out. Why would Natalie even want it to be a secret? For what purpose? Possibly to keep it from being stolen, but Natalie was a Tenet student. She hardly had to fear someone would come after her. Nobody was that stupid. Tenet was famously protective of its students. Some would say excessively, gleeful-in-their-retribution, so.

Though the questions only kept piling up, Shara simply said, "Then I won't tell a soul."

Natalie nodded, seeming relieved.

"I'll need some details, though, working with an ore I've never seen," Shara said. "And you didn't tell me. What do you want from it?"

"Not sure. Whatever it's good for. Can't you feel that out? As a craftsman?"

There was a significant amount of intuition that came with crafting classes; that was what Natalie meant. Oftentimes, it felt like Shara's skills and class guided her more than her many years of experience.

"We can. But it'd still be nice to have a general idea. A starting point."

Natalie shrugged. "I guess a breastplate," she said. "Or other armor. But really, I just want to see what you can do with it. Have plenty, anyway, and I think I can get more. So it's not a huge deal."

Shara certainly would have thought a unique ore would be a 'huge deal'. It felt like Natalie was acting far too blase about the situation. But it was hardly on Shara to question her, however intrigued in the details. But really, a unique ore that Natalie felt confident she could track down again? How strange.

"Then I'll do my best."

"Is a rush order fine? Can I come back tomorrow?"

Shara nodded. She was being offered the opportunity of a lifetime; a rapid turn-around for the task was the least Natalie could ask of her. Shara would stay up all night working on it if she had to. Hell, she probably would have anyway; she'd be restless until the task was finished.

"Perfect," Natalie said. "Well, okay, I'll see you then."