The Wandering Inn_Volume 1, page 491
“A single enchantment won’t do us any good if we’re attacked by something truly dangerous. We should be quiet. We are scouting. Information about this new part of the dungeon is worth its weight in gold, but only if we get back alive.”
The voices cut off at once. Toren paused. They were just up ahead. She had a rough map of this part of the dungeon in her head, and she knew they were right next to the hole she’d fallen through. Had these adventurers come down the same way? And if they had, what was Toren going to do about them?
Part of Toren knew exactly what to do. Kill them. That was what he’d always done. Kill anything that moved, because he might level! But she wavered. She wondered—
And then soft yellow light flooded the hallway. It stunned Toren, because she’d been in the darkness so long she’d forgotten what light was like. It illuminated the dark corridor, threw her form into relief. She spotted the group of five adventurers at the same time they saw her.
They were five. Two were clearly warriors; a short woman with an axe in front wearing armor, standing next to a young woman with a curved sword. A Gnoll and a hooded figure were looking over their shoulders as they walked behind the warriors, guarding the rear. The Gnoll held a shortbow, and the hooded figure held something thick and flat in one furred hand. They were all following a Drake with black scales, who was dressed in leather armor. He had a dagger out. They all froze when they saw Toren.
“Watch out!”
The Gnoll snapped the words first. He lifted the bow up, but the hooded [Mage] grabbed his arm.
“Don’t shoot! It’s an adventurer!”
Toren had been charging forwards, ready to cut into the group and slay the [Mage] with her Skill before escaping. But she halted when she heard those words.
An adventurer. They thought she was like them! For a second, Toren’s head was filled with clouds, and she felt bliss permeate every inch of her being.
They thought she looked like one of them. Her clothing had worked! For that reason alone, Toren didn’t immediately try to kill them all.
Still, there was tension in the air as the adventurers backed away from Toren. The Gnoll thrust the [Mage]’s hand away and nocked his bow. He didn’t aim at Toren, but the threat was there. The two warriors conferred with the Drake with the dagger and he called out cautiously towards Toren.
“Hallo? We’re friendly! Are you an adventurer? Are you lost? Look—we’re not threats!”
He sheathed the dagger at his waist, and the other adventurers lowered their weapons. After a moment’s hesitation, Toren lowered her sword. She wanted to see what would happen if she did.
“Great! Uh—are you okay?”
Now this…was a problem. Toren hesitated, because she couldn’t speak. When he’d been running around and Erin had been alive, he’d often wished he could open his mouth and say something. But unlike the spell that had given him vision, it hadn’t seen fit to give him intangible vocal chords as well. And now she was facing a situation where not speaking might get tricky.
Toren improvised. She raised her hand hesitantly and waved it back and forth. The adventurers watched her carefully, and she saw them turn to whisper to each other. The black-scaled Drake who seemed to be acting as their spokesperson called out.
“Are you…mute? Can you talk?”
Toren nodded to the first question and then shook her head. The Drake turned to his companions. He whispered, but Toren didn’t have ears and so his magical hearing far eclipsed that of anyone but a Gnoll’s.
“I think it might be safe. Come on, let’s go over!”
“You go up. I will stay back with Anith. Best just in case, no?”
The Gnoll whispered back. The Drake nodded and he and the two females walked forwards to meet Toren. She stared at the three of them. They stared back.
“Dead gods, is that a mask?”
The shorter woman, who had arms like a [Blacksmith] exclaimed the instant she got close to Toren. She was holding a metal lantern up and she shone it at Toren’s face. The skeleton held her breath. This was the moment of truth.
“Stop that! You’re blinding her!”
The young woman swatted the lantern down. She was Human, and holding a curved blade Toren couldn’t help but admire. He had never seen a katana before, so unlike Erin, he couldn’t make the mistake of assuming it was one. The sword the woman held was no katana—it was too wide, and the tip was double-edged. It was a long blade, and the young woman held it casually at her side as she spoke to the short woman with the axe. But she was watching Toren warily out of the corner of her eye as she spoke.
The Drake was the next person to speak. Toren looked down at him. He was thinner and shorter than any other male Drake she’d seen, but friendly enough. He grinned up at her, looking slightly nervous.
“Sorry about that. It’s just that we didn’t expect to find anyone down here. What are you doing alone?”
Toren had no good answer, so she shrugged. She was quite entertained by the notion that they thought she was like them, and wondered if she should disabuse them by stabbing them in the face. But she thought it would be more entertaining to see how long she could keep up the ruse.
“You can’t speak, right! Sorry. Uh—what should I say?”
The Drake turned to the two warriors. The young woman with the curved sword frowned.
“Are you hurt?”
Toren shook her head.
“Are you lost?”
Again, a shake of the head. The adventuress paused.
“So you’re a solo adventurer, exploring alone?”
Toren hesitated, and then nodded her head. The Drake’s jaw fell open.
“No way. You mean you’re down here—but we thought—how long have you been here?”
The skeleton masquerading as an adventurer shrugged. She was really enjoying this. She held up her sword to show them the bloodstains, and the short woman exclaimed when she lifted her lantern to see.
“Burn my beard, that’s one battered sword! What have you been doing, smashing rocks with it? That thing deserves to be melted down for scrap, not used as a weapon!”
Toren glared at the short woman as the young woman with the curved blade rolled her eyes. She rounded on her companion, sounding irate.
“For the last time, you don’t have a beard, Dasha! Why do you keep saying that?”
“It’s what my people say! Don’t judge me, long legs!”
“You’re only part-Dwarf! And I’m only a head and a half taller than you are!”
“I was raised by Dwarves, not Humans, alright?”
The two began to argue, completely forgetting Toren was there. She scratched at the back of her hooded head. The Drake sidled closer to her.
“Sorry about that. We’re uh, a newer team. That’s your weapon?”
Toren nodded again. She could understand the part-Dwarf warrior’s point. She didn’t like having the sword either. She wondered if she could take the one the young woman had…
“Insill!”
A voice rang out from behind the Drake, cutting the argument between the two female adventurers short. Insill turned and waved.
“Come on over! I think there’s no danger!”
He turned sheepishly to Toren.
“Sorry about that. You know how it is with dungeons.”
Toren nodded understandingly. They were being quite smart. The foolish thing was trusting her. She eyed the other two adventurers as they came over. One was a Gnoll and the other—
There were five adventurers. Two Humans, a Drake, a Gnoll and a…Toren squinted at the fifth member of the group. The last person was just weird. He had fur and looked sort of like a Gnoll, but very not at the same time. Where Gnolls had a distinct, thickset build and a certain scruffiness to their fur, this person was different. His fur was black, sleek, and he had a more elongated head, closer to a dog than the mixed appearance of a Gnoll.
If Toren had known about cultures from Erin’s world, she would have said the fifth person looked like one of the Egyptian gods, like Anubis, perhaps. He was slightly taller and thinner than the average Human male, and he was carrying a book which glowed faintly in one of his paws.
“Who is this, Insill?”
“I think she’s a solo adventurer, Anith.”
“In a new dungeon?”
Shock ran through the [Mage]’s voice. The other adventurers looked at Toren, who silently preened in their stares. At last, the Gnoll spoke.
“Well, we shall not bother you, yes? We are exploring this dungeon as you are, Miss Adventurer. Unless there is something you wish to warn us of?”
Toren thought about all the horrible ways to die she’d discovered and thought about how much she cared for this group’s wellbeing. She shook her head lightly.
“In that case, we shall be on our way.”
The Gnoll nodded, but the Drake stopped him.
“Hold on Larr! We should ask if we can team up!”
“Team up?”
The others stared at Insill in surprise, but the Drake nodded.
“She clearly knows the area if she’s been down here. And there’s safety in numbers. What about a team up? We’ll split the loot evenly amongst us all.”
The idea threw Toren far more than the other adventurers. Her? Team up with them? For what purpose? But then the idea tickled her. Why not? She felt good after being taken for an adventurer, and she could always betray them after they killed some things. She nodded, the adventurers conferred, their leader, the [Mage] agreed, and so it was done.
A few minutes later, Toren found the group introducing themselves to her, which was another unique experience. Erin had never introduced anyone to Toren. But now the black-scaled Drake, Insill, was doing to for Toren.
“This is Dasha and Pekona, our [Warriors]. Well, I say [Warriors], but Dasha’s an [Axe Fighter] and Pekona’s a [Blade Dancer].”
The short, part-Dwarf woman and the young woman with the curved sword nodded to Toren, Pekona warily, Dasha still grumbling about the quality of Toren’s sword and arguing with Pekona. Insill whispered to Toren as he gestured to Dasha’s notable lack of height.
“She’s got a bit of Dwarf blood in her family. She’s part Terandrian, you see.”
Toren nodded as if she understood any of that. Insill pointed to the Gnoll next.
“This is Larr from the Hawkarrow Tribe.”
“Pleased.”
The Gnoll nodded, and Insill turned to the hooded, dog-like [Mage].
“And I am Anith. The [Mage] and party leader. I hope to work well with you, Miss Adventurer.”
He reached out and Toren gingerly mimicked his handshake. She must have done it alright, because Anith said nothing about it. He nodded to her mask.
“I wish that I could know your name, or identity. But I suppose your nature is a secret by choice, so I shall respect it.”
Toren bowed her head. And Anith nodded.
“He’s from the Duskclaw Tribe—Jackals.”
Insill explained as Anith walked forwards to break up the argument again. He grinned up at Toren.
“Oh, and I didn’t introduce myself, did I? I’m Insill. I’m the group’s [Rogue]. Notice the black scales? I can hide in the dark like a shadow, and I’ll be making sure we don’t run into any traps.”
Toren stared at him. Insill’s bravado faded a bit. He coughed and twitched his tail.
“So…shall we go?”
—-
Toren walked with a group of adventurers in the middle of the dungeon. It was a novel experience, mainly because they weren’t trying to kill him, and he was only contemplating doing that to them.
The reason the adventurers was down in the dungeon was a mystery to Toren. He assumed they were here to…well, he didn’t actually know much about what adventurers did. That was a hole in his understanding of the world. They killed things, but for what reason Toren had no idea. He thought they might just do it because they were bored, and approved of the idea.
And none of them were about to tell her, even if Toren asked, which he couldn’t. The group of adventurers, known collectively as Vuliel Drae—which meant something to Anith and no one else—moved in silence. They let their [Rogue], Insill, take the lead and he carefully moved down the corridor, checking for traps and keeping an eye out for monsters as they slowly went from corridor to corridor, Anith mapping their route in his book.
It was boring, and not boring at the same time. Toren was bored by the slow progress, and the way that the adventurers let Insill check every tile and wall before moving on. She was bored by the way the Drake meticulously made Dasha shine her lantern down each corridor, and the way Larr kept glancing behind in case of an ambush while Pekona scanned in every direction as if she was afraid of an attack out of one of the walls.
But he was delighted by the company, all the same. Real people, in the dungeon. Soon to be dead people, perhaps, but real people. And they thought Toren was one of them.
There was something…wonderful about that thought. Toren would have loved to explore the feeling, but then they came to a corridor and Toren saw the trap.
It glowed in his magical vision. The runes were shining across the entire hallway, some angled towards the group. There were runes on the ground ahead of Insill as the Drake cautiously advanced, and presumably they’d all fire if he touched them.
And the Drake didn’t notice. Maybe it was because they were magical, and covered by the grime, or he’d just slipped up. Either way, Toren saw the danger and realized he was about to trigger them.
The skeleton thought fast. It was let the adventurers walk into the trap and risk getting damaged herself or stop them. So Toren moved. She dashed forwards as Insill was about to cross the first room. She reached out and punched Insill in the back of the head.
“Gah!”
He staggered, but Toren’s hand pulled him back. The adventurers cried out as Toren whirled to face them. She threw her arms out as Pekona turned her blade towards Toren and Larr raised his bow.
“What the—”
“Hold, hold!”
Anith shouted to stop the others. He helped Insill up as the other adventurers stared hostilely at Toren.
“What was that for?”
Insill looked hurt and confused, the others suspicious. Toren hesitated, and then pointed down at the runes only she could see.
“What? What are—”
Insill came forwards, the others watching Toren. He pushed gingerly at the dirt on the ground with the tip of his dagger and then swore and leapt backwards as he saw the shining runes underneath.
“It’s a trap! I nearly walked into it!”
“What? How come you didn’t see it?”
Pekona stared at Insill. His tail wrapped around his leg as he hunched his shoulders.
“I don’t know! My Skill didn’t go off—”
“It might have been hidden by magic that nullified your Skill.”
Anith knelt by the runes, staring at them grimly. He looked up at Toren, and to the skeleton’s amazement, bowed his head towards her!
“You saved us. Thank you.”
The other adventurers reacted immediately. They lowered their weapons, looking ashamed. Dasha stroked at her chin, as if she had a beard. She was sweating a bit as she eyed the glowing runes.
“Dead gods, you did save us. Insill didn’t spot a thing.”
“Yeah, but—you didn’t have to hit me!”
Insill looked hurt. Instantly, Pekona whirled on him, looking irate.
“How else was she supposed to do it? She doesn’t talk!”
The Drake paused.
“Oh, right. But couldn’t she have tapped me on the shoulder or something?”
The other adventurers began venting their shock and relief on him. Dasha growled at Insill.
“You idiot! You’re our [Rogue]! Miss Swordswoman here had to stop you from getting us all killed! If you can’t detect a trap, then what good are you? I’ll kick your lights out myself!”
She smacked Insill on the arm, hard, stroking her bare chin furiously. Insill yelped and protested, until Anith told everyone to quiet down. Toren watched all of this with private glee.
Not only did she get to give other people the Lyonette treatment, but she got praised and other people helped him hit his victims? She was beginning to like these adventurers after all!
They went on. And it was now with Toren walking in the front, next to Insill. Her spotting that one trap had raised the adventurer’s estimation of her, and so they both combed the corridor together before proceeding.
The last trap had shaken Insill’s nerves. He would nervously stop to ask if she’d seen any traps every minute as they moved slowly down the corridors, and she would shake her head. The sheer act of checking the corridor and shaking her head filled Toren with a bit of happiness the skeleton couldn’t explain. She was helping. But it wasn’t her doing something alone. This was a team effort, and Toren had never been part of one of those before.
They ran into their first monster sixteen minutes after the trap. They’d just passed down a corridor when Insill raised his hand nervously.
“Wait a second. Something’s not r—”
Ahead of them, a section of the wall opened up and a wall of white wriggling things poured out. Toren hadn’t noticed the trap. Maybe it had been triggered from inside, but out the monsters came.
Hundreds of them. Thousands. A white mass of long, wriggling things. Toren hacked at them as the adventurers fell back, shouting.
They were leeches. They wriggled across the ground, searching for bodies. They ignored Toren, but she stomped on them and cut with her sword because she didn’t want them messing up her clothes. The other adventurers were doing the same, cursing, tearing the things off as they tried to latch onto any skin.
“[Repulsion Barrier]!”
Anith shouted, and Toren saw a wave of leeches go flying away from him and Larr. But Pekona, Dasha, Toren and Insill were in the middle of it. They hacked and stomped until Toren heard Larr shout a warning.
“Watch out! There’s the mother!”
Toren turned and saw the bigger leeches. They were far larger than the hand-sized ones that had come out in a wave. Some were as long as her leg, others as long as she was. And one was half the width of the corridor and the sharp opening on the underside of its body was gaping as it lunged towards the adventurers.
