DTK 42

AN: Ok patch notes I changed up the quest that they got at the end of last chapter to what is as follows:

[Confirmed! Title Contest Quest generated. Conditions:]

►Clear all open tertiary dungeons to floor two

►Clear central dungeon fourth floor

►Timer: 72 hours from next reset

[Conditions: Dungeon Reset disabled from start of next reset until quest cleared or failed]

[Rewards: Ownership of title: Stitch transferred to Gwen Taylor]

[Stitch: Tier 0, Village]

[Current title holder notified.]

***

I stared, not waving away the system prompt. I was queasy, still on the sand, sick at whatever the system had just done at me. If that was what the church worshiped, then I understood why they would call it a god. Just the weight of that many perceptions made me feel like I was about to black out.

It was like there was a hundred pound weight on my neck.

Sandy didn’t look much better than I was. She had sat down on the beach and taken off her helmet. Her eyes were puffy and her face was red.

“Are you good?” Sandy asked. “You didn’t get, like, poisoned?”

“No. You didn’t get… that?” I asked, looking over my shoulder at the gate. The water was definitely rising. It was constantly draining into the gate to the next floor now, higher up the beach. I worried that the dungeon in there would flood eventually.

“Didn’t get what?” Sandy asked, her voice sharp.

“I got a quest.” I said. “’Contested Title Quest Generated.’”

“A quest? What do you mean a quest? I thought only nobles… title quest?” Sandy asked, then she scrambled up to me in the sand. She squinted like she was trying to see my system.

“For ownership of the town.” I said.

Sandy’s breathing intensified.

“Let’s — let’s do it. We start… tomorrow. What do we need?”

I explained the circumstances for the quest — clearing all of the dungeon entrances — and that this was the deepest clear in a year. If Sandy had kept going just a little bit farther, she would’ve generated this quest herself.

If she lived.

But we were able to do this so well because we worked together. The more people joined in helping us, the easier it became. First Sandy, then Mom, then Henri. We were stronger together.

“We got plenty of time before Valjean comes back.” Sandy said.

“Actually… we might only have days. The System said it notified the current title holder… which would be Valjean.”

“No. We have plenty of time.” Sandy said. “We have to be able to do this now. We’re not going to get away a third time. But tonight… let’s just go home.”

After a few minutes I had mostly recovered. I stood, albeit without fully trusting my legs, and took the first step toward the exit. I flinched as a monster dove through before I reached it.

I reached for my sewing needle by reflex, holding it out between myself and the monster as it barked. The wagging tail and bright golden eyes made me drop the needle.

“Cinnamon?” Sandy asked.

The dog tackled her, licking her face before backing off to inspect her.

“Get down!” She said, pushing the dog back. Cinnamon whined in concern. “You’re supposed to be in your pen!” She said, half yelling.

“Does he get out a lot…?” I asked, staring at the dog. It was one thing for the dog to extend games of fetch across town. It was another for it to track us into a dungeon! What if he got hurt?

“He may… be leaving the town sometimes.” Sandy said. “I mean, he is obviously… a very big dog. A very good boy.” Sandy said, leaning forward and scratching Cinnamon behind the ears.

He slipped away, barking again.

“What does he want?”

“More treats, probably.” Sandy grunted, grabbing the body of the fish that always jumped out of the river on this floor. It landed with a splat in the sand in front of Cinnamon. His tongue lolled as he panted, mouth open, drooling over the fish. Then he shook his head and barked, running in a circle around Sandy.

“Or not.” I said.

Cinnamon ran from Sandy, stood between her and the portal, and whimpered.

“I think… he wants us to follow him.” Sandy said. Then she picked up her helmet and shoved it on.

We walked out of the dungeon with Cinnamon in front of us. Every three steps, he turned back to look at us. But he had stopped barking. We trailed behind him for minutes. He stomped through the forest with ease, the mild discomfort of the Wild itching at us the whole time.

“Where are we going?” I asked. With night having fallen, it was hard to track where we were going. Cinnamon sniffed the ground. “I… am not sure following your dog blindly into the night is a good idea.” I said.

Cinnamon turned and whined.

“Should we head back to town?” Sandy asked.

Cinnamon half barked, then whined more.

“I think… there’s no harm in it. We could probably handle anything out here fine.” I rubbed my arm as I spoke. This was unnerving.

We followed Cinnamon as he looped through the forest. Sometimes, he would stop, turning at a harsh angle to loop around. Finally, he broke through some foliage in front of us before spinning around and running back at us.

Cinnamon whined.

We stepped through the last line of foliage… and onto the main, dusty road that led out of town. Tracks were carved in the earth from the wear of hundreds of wagon wheels. Grass and flowers fought to reclaim the edges of the road.

And on the other side of the bubble, in the town, we saw the wagons. Lanterns hung from their sides, making them visible even through the warping air.

“Shit.” Sandy said.

“Shit.” I agreed.

Then we snuck around the town.

Cinnamon followed distantly behind us, dragging his belly along the ground. When I turned around to look at him he stopped, throwing his paws over his eyes. He was much more intelligent than a baby dog… but not more intelligent than a toddler.

Inside the town, the nobles were already searching house to house again. Another surprise census.

“He wasn’t supposed to be back for two weeks.” Sandy grumbled.

“I know. I jinxed us.” I sighed. 

Sandy’s house was in sight. We almost made it.

Then one of the mage lights turned from around the street, visible through the warping haze that separated the city and the Wild.

“Shit!” Sandy said.

I hissed between my teeth.

“We need to get home before we miss being counted.” I said. “And you need a change of clothes. Lets slink around to my place before they check that one too.”

“Slink around. Like we’re hiding!” Sandy whisper-shouted.

“We are hiding!” I replied.

The Wild was visibly expanded beyond where it had been last time Valjean was here. There was no way he hadn’t noticed that. Not even to mention the alert that someone had delved deeper than him.

There was no magelight at my house, thankfully.

We sprinted from the Wild to the workshop, throwing the door open and stepping inside. Cinnamon ducked in before we shut the door. He barked before shaking himself off.

“Gwen?” Esmeralda asked.

“Mom!” I said.

“You are… wearing… something else.” She said, looking me up and down. I felt red creep up my face as I realized, that with everything else going on, I hadn’t changed back into my mundane clothes.

“Yeah, she’s been clearing the dungeon with me, her stats are way higher than mine.” Sandy said, ripping her helmet off. “Do you have a spare set of clothes for me?”

I started activating [Quick Change,] not replying as Mom stared at me, waiting for me to explain.

“Sandy.” I hissed.

“She definitely knows!” Sandy shouted. “Have the nobles come here yet?”

“No. They haven’t come yet.” Mom replied, swinging open the cabinet I used to hide my extra clothes in to reveal a spare set of basic clothes in white linen. “You are so grounded.” She said.

“I’m eighteen!” I replied. “It’s not like I’ve been… in danger! Or endangering… myself!”

“You’ve got burns on your hands.” Mom threw the set of clothes to Sandy. “Just don’t go out without the potion. Taking that was smart.” Mom sighed.

Sandy threw her helmet to me. I caught it, stuffing it away into my inventory.

“She has the skills from every outfit she’s crafted. Gwen will be fine. We gotta get presentable.” Sandy said, looking around. “Where are all the…”

Monster parts, she left unsaid. Mom swiveled around in her chair, looking back at the crates of mundane leathers and materials. They were stacked into a pile. Mom had plenty left in reserve.

“Stuffed into the bottom.” She said.

Sandy nodded. Then she turned around and started changing.

“So… how was the dungeon?” Mom asked.

Sandy flinched.

“It was a beach.” I said, picking and choosing my words one at a time. It took a little bit of resistance to avoid saying we got a quest to take control of the town. I didn’t even want to mention that. The less people knew, the better. “The first floor.” I said.

“Was it… nice?” Mom asked.

“No. The second floor was a gross, watery cave.” I replied again.

Mom looked in Sandy’s direction for a long moment, then nodded, apparently deciding something for herself.

“How about the other dungeons?” She asked, wisely pivoting.

“The second gates opened.” Sandy said, turning around with her new soft linen shirt on. “There’s one that’s hot as hell, one that’s cold as hell, and one that’s high as hell. They all suck.” She said.

There was a pounding at the door. We looked at each other. There had been no magelight outside, no signaled approach of the noble.

“Esmeralda?” Valjean’s voice rumbled through the door. He knocked again. At least he wasn’t kicking it open.

Mom looked at us. I nodded at her and ran to stuff the rest of the Stormcaller set into my [Wardrobe.] The door clicked and swung open.

“Mayor Valjean!” Mom said. “Pleasure to see you…” Her voice flagged at the end, dropping in enthusiasm, and I turned around to discover why.

Valjean sniffed and pushed his hair back out of his face. It was wet — it had started raining outside. He was holding a set of clothing, and sighed with what was clearly bone deep exhaustion as he stumbled into the workshop, throwing the pile of clothes on a table. He was dressed in armor of mixed metal pieces overlap finely designed outfits.

“Sorry to spring this on you. Do you think you could rush order repair on these? I didn’t have time to head in to service before…” Valjean paused as he looked at me and Sandy. We were both tense, just staring back at him. The room froze for a moment.

“Hi.” I said.

Valjean stared for a moment before coughing and clearing his throat.

“I didn’t have time to bring these in for a normal repair. Then we ended up running into a boss on the way to town.” Valjean complained.

My eyes scanned his outfit. As I looked closer, I stopped focusing on the elaborate filigrees covering most out of the outfit and the complex niceities of the design. Instead, I saw the scratches in the metal, the gouges on the edge, the clean break in the bracer on his right arm. Something had seriously messed him up.

He was pushed off base, uncomfortable and stumbling.

Good. The thought pushed itself into my head, unprompted.

“Do you pay extra for surprise orders?” I asked. Mom looked over and blinked at me. Sandy slumped into a seat, watching the conversation play out. It’d be suspicious of her to run away whenever Valjean showed up. She fiddled with her hands on the other side of the room.

“Yes.” Valjean said. “Of course, of course… you might need a smith as well. Sandy, are you up for processing a monster? It might be a little beyond your level, but it wont make it all the way back with us.”

“How long are you staying here?” Sandy asked.

“Three days.” Valjean said. His expression darkened for a moment, but he cleared it with a shake of his head.