The journey to Theoâs shop was longer than Daniel expected based on her crude drawing. His bag weighed heavy on his shoulders, a burden of body parts and chains that he was reluctant both to bring and to leave.
After leaving the marketplace he had seen in the morning, the scribbled directions sent him into another residential district, this one built on a bulge of a hill that had started declining. As he descended, the homes around him did, the sturdy townhouses falling into slanted shanties and round huts stacked atop each other like teetering gumdrops, a poor construction of additional layers to house an excess of persons.
The road he walked on cracked and caved, potholes surrounded by scattered gravel, born of neglect he hadnât seen in the market district of the city. The people he passed by kept their heads lower and moved with intent that precluded any casual strolling.
Theoâs shop was the gem of the district.
Daniel rounded the final corner and identified it immediately, a stone structure carved and crafted with tender consideration. It stuck out amongst a row of slanted, wooden homes, across from a tavern that made its purpose known through a sign of beer dangling outside its door.
Her shop featured short walls that enclosed the small property, carefully built pillars supporting the sturdy building with bodies carved into the base as if the crouched people were holding up the place. The walls of the building were decorated with engravings of wolves, flowers, dragons, and more, stories being told with the briefest of glances.
The wall facing Daniel as he approached was covered in names, written or signed in a variety of fonts. Patrons he guessed, their number too high to count at a glance. An advertisement of satisfied customers.
The gate for the short walls swung open on easy hinges, a sign beside them reading âTheothoraâs Arms & Armorâ. But as he trotted up the clean steps to the entrance, he realized there was none, just as there were no windows on the building.
Carved into the arch of where a door might have been was a command, written in Common.
PLEASE KNOCK.
He obliged, and the stone-filled arch shuttered and quaked, then sank into the ground, revealing the shop. It was smaller on the inside than the outside, its walls thick, precious gems woven through the room, tucked behind display cases and mannequins.
Theo stood in the back, the shopkeep, stonesmith, and blacksmith clad in a gritty, stained apron with little underneath, her short but stocky frame scarred and discolored just like her clothes. She was hammering away at a hunk of metal placed before a tame blaze in the corner of the room. Steam and smoke swirled upwards out an intricate ventilation system that made up the roof of the shop, leaving no condensation on the displayed weapons Daniel passed by to approach a beautiful marble counter.
Theo set her work aside, wiped her sweaty brow with a cloth she stuffed into a front pocket, and rounded to face Daniel. She stamped a foot and the wall closed behind him, enclosing him in the warm but safe shop.
âHey! I wasnât sure youâd stop by today,â Theo greeted, walking up to her counter and leaning against it, her damp skin sliding comfortable against a ridge he imagined was worn into the rock from countless leans and slouches from its owner.
âArmor seems like a good priority to have â besides, I wanted to see where you and Kire live,â he answered, leaning on the other side of the counter. The marble was cool to the touch, a welcome relief from the heat of the shop.
âAh, well no Kire here. Tends to stay at the hole across the street when heâs in town, but thatâs no guarantee, former street urchin that he is.â
âIs he not in town right now?â
Theo looked nervous about the question, a twitch to her face and downturn to her lips that she did a poor job of hiding. It reminded him of their time in the 112th dungeon, and a few moments after. She seemed the sort of person who prided themselves on brute honesty but found themselves having to fight their nature. A poor liar.
âNo, no think heâs stepped out for another⦠errand,â she answered, rubbing the back of her knuckles.
She changed the subject abruptly. âAnyway, got your armor all sorted out here,â she continued, stepping away from the counter to reach a hand into the ground next to a wall, an apparent relief in getting to use the skills she was good at. With a grunt of effort, she pulled a massive rectangle of stone up, the interior hollowed out and containing a crude mannequin that wore a plain set of leather armor.
The armor was broken into plates, of sorts, large sections covered by thick, double-bound chunks of well-maintained leather that could be tied to a person through various strings and straps currently dangling off the mannequin. The method of straps reminded him of the bracers he had noticed Kire wearing, and he realized Theo must be the resident craftsman for many of the Reborn.
The leather itself was a neutral brown, but a set of under clothes, folded neatly inside the storage stone, were dark gray and green, a similar pattern to what Specter wore, designed to blend in and break the shape of the human body, though not as effective as the large cloak the hunter wore.
The only full piece of armor were the boots, a clean set with thick soles and loose laces up their back.
Theo pulled each piece out, moving them to the counter and looking quite pleased with Danielâs admiring glances. âMy leather armor has a few benefits, aside being a more affordable material,â she said, excitement and pride creating a lecture from a woman who insisted she was no teacher. âFirst, itâs easy to wear. Dunno if youâve ever been strapped into platemail but moving in that is like swimming on land â a skillset of its own, really.â
She started the process of gearing him up, demonstrating how each piece could be worn over his existing clothes, or the under clothes she provided, and the way the straps wrapped around and tied together. He paid diligent attention. âSecond, it's made in pieces, so if you wreck one section, the rest is still doing its job. You destroy a bracer, I get you a new bracer, no complete repair of the gear necessary.â
âThird, itâs easy to improve and repair. You find some skin tougher than what I got? We layer it on. You rip open the breastpiece in the middle of a dungeon? Learn some basic sewing and youâll be patching it up on the fly,â she continued, pausing to point at one of her counterspaces that featured threads of various sizes and corresponding needles. Taking the moment to appreciate the variety of her wares, Daniel realized Kire had been underselling her. She wasnât âa smith of sortsâ â she was a wonderwoman of a dozen crafting skills that she combined to service her clients.
ââCourse I wonât object to you ordering some plate work,â she nudged his side with an elbow, then pulled the largest piece of the armor over his head. âThisâll treat you well for now, though, so long as you treat her well. Recommend you practice in the gear, it's important to break leather in, shape it to your body. And Iâm sending you with some treatment oil, and you will be saving money for more in the future to make sure youâre oiling her up at least once a season.â
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Daniel nodded, hoping her hard work wouldnât go to waste on him. âYes maâam.â
Theo gave him a friendly knock on a stiff, padded shoulder. âThatâs my guy, knew I liked you for a reason.â
She then set about removing the armor from him, teaching the process with deft hands and eventually freeing him of the gear entirely, consolidating his purchase into a pile for him to store in his bag.
âSo,â she said with a not-so-subtle glance at the bag. âDid you bring the rib?â
Daniel fetched the requested bone, Theo rolling back and forth on her feet with an energy she couldnât resist. He held the rib by its chain, reluctant to tough it directly, and set it on the marble counter where she unsheathed and examined it.
âGnarly little weapon, isnât she? So Iâve been thinking, you donât exactly seem the, ah, letâs say, sneaky type,â Theo said with a diplomatic smile that provoked a nod of agreement. âAnd really, a short range dagger is a waste of a godpart, such limited potential. Whatâs great about god pieces is their durability, you saw that first hand. We couldnât get through the 112thâs walls for shit, but you popped open that door without breaking a sweat.
âBut the durability makes it difficult to work with the material â gotta break something to get it into the shape you want, yâknow? Fortunately yours came presharpened. Now, my gut instinct is to use this as a spear head. Thatâll give you reach, but it can be a risk if you end up in a lot of underground dungeons. They tend to be cramped and that reach can turn into a burden if you donât have room to move.
âWe could also turn it into a hand scythe, give her a reinforced handle to give you a bit more reach and something to block with. Or maybe a warpick, and fuse the face of a hammer to its dull end to counterbalance and give you a blunt edge for versatility. âCourse these are both shorter weapons, and if youâre new to combat that spear is going to give you some breathing room. Another risk of that, though, is if its body snaps.â
Theo paused her monologue to mimic the snapping of a branch with two hands. âIf someone takes out the weaker part of the spear, the non godly bit, you risk losing the rib if itâs severed completely. Unless youâve got the spine of your god hiding in your bag?â
She laughed at the absurdity, but stopped abruptly when Daniel pried open his bag again, single eye wide. He stuck his hand through the loop of chain curled inside and heaved it out, plopping it on to her counter, beside the rib.
Theo was on it in an instant, tools from her apron appearing in hand as she pried apart the chains, tapped at them, tested their resistance and looked to identify what she had been brought. âWhat in the hells are these?â
âI donât really know â but strong, right?â
A low whistle escaped her damaged lips and she pushed a tangle of curls back up into her eyepatch. âWell theyâre not as strong as your rib, and really Iâd need a month of research to get a better idea, but I canât imagine much that would make easy work of them. Whereâd you get âem?â
âAnother piece of my patron,â he answered, her propensity towards honesty keeping him straight with her. Theo glanced up from the new toy dropped in front of her, lines of concern crossing her forehead. He could guess the source of her discomfort. No one knew who his real patron was â he didnât even, really â but the idea of a chain god that shares ribs wasnât sounding like a very benign one.
But Theo kept her thoughts to herself, pivoting back to the comfort of what she excelled at. âSo youâre wanting a weapon that makes use of these? Theyâre a bit large to be used as chainmail and I think Iâll run into issues manipulating them like your rib.â
âSounds like the best option,â he answered, her head bobbing in agreement while a hand snaked up to her face, picking at her eyepatch while she contemplated.
âYeah, yeah okay. You heard of a kusarigama?â
Daniel blinked at the word, Theoâs careful enunciation indicating she was saying it as she had heard it, not a strange translation quirk. He knew it, in a distant sort of way, no real knowledge of the weapon aside a passing appearance in a few video games. But he nodded, and they both seemed more surprised by him knowing it than not.
âRight, well, one of the Reborns over at the Crawlerâs joint, one of Ghostâs friends, he uses one, sometimes, real interesting thing, but versatile, which is a pro for our line of work. Think it could be a good fit with the materials youâre giving me.â
âSpecter?â
âYeah!â Theo exclaimed, snapping her fingers in remembrance. âYeah, thatâs the guy. He makes it look like the best weapon for any job, but it might just be that heâs the best for any job. Anyway, if youâre interested in going that route, youâll have a teacher, at least.â
An expensive one, Daniel thought, frowning down at the materials heâd placed on the counter.
ââCourse weâll have to figure out if you want the rib weighted at the end of the chain, or used as part of the hand scythe â well, hand pick, really, with the shape of the rib. Lots of other details we can work out as you practice, but think I need that one answered first,â Theo said and looked up at Daniel. He expected her to dive into a list of pros and cons, but when she didnât he realized she was pushing him to think for himself. Or just tired of talking.
The strength of Svelâs chains negated the worry of them snapping and him losing the rib. But at the end of the chain, it meant his toughest weapon could be caught and trapped far from his person. He wasnât too familiar with a kusarigama, but he understood the technique to involve a hearty amount of chain swinging, something that could prove difficult in the tight space of a dungeon, as Theo pointed out with the spear.
But having it on the chain end gave him range with a weapon that, to his understanding, would cut anything it came into contact with. If Theo could weigh it such that the chain still spun as needed, that sounded safer than the short range of a hand pick.
Though if he had a standard weighted ball at the chain end, he could entangle enemies with it and pull them close for a guaranteed strike with the rib. But that was assuming the enemy was something he could entangle, and something he could pull. He wanted the rib on the pick to fight a human, but what if he wasnât fighting humans? Slashing a dragon from a distance sounded better than picking at it.
The final tie breaker, for the moment, at least, was that the rib was a tool to write with, as well. He couldnât imagine willingly feeding it again, but removing the option felt like a mistake. It would be easier to write with at the end of a chain than if it were attached to a handle.
âPut it at the end of the chain, for now, please,â Daniel decided, fishing out his coin pouch for whatever price she would charge.
âAbsolutely boss,â she replied with a satisfied nod, leaning into her counter once again. âThree silver for the weapon and my time. A bargain still, I promise.â
He believed her, she didnât seem the sort to shake him down like Hutch, the grouchy general store owner, had.
âMake it four, if you want me to send it through the Dust System so you donât have to make the trip out here. That oneâs just their tax, swear,â she said, an apologetic smile turning into a frown. âActually, scratch that, keep your coin and Iâll send it through the DS anyway. Forgot Iâm gonna be out of shop for awhile.â
Daniel slid three silver coins over to her. âWhere you gonna be?â
She swept the coins into an apron pocket before pinching both sides of her apron and dipping into a lazy curtsy. âYours truly has been summoned by the Crown. Dunno what for,â she said, answering his next question in the same breath. âThink theyâre gathering up all the smithies in Mast for Crawler and Crownâs Guard gear, the dungeons have been throwing a real fit lately.â
âI heard, the Crawler headquarters have been a ghost town. I donât think Iâve seen the mission board with a clear spot all week.â
Theoâs intact brow lifted. âDamn. Well hope you get up to speed quick then, Danny,â she said, trying out a new nickname that Daniel didnât object to. He hadnât been given a nickname by a friend before. Her cheeks plumped with her smile. âLooks like they need the help.â
The idea that he could help lit a candle in his chest, a warmth he hadnât felt or considered before. Svel may have a grand mission he could never achieve, but maybe there was some good to do in Etheril. It had been a dangerous world, but one filled with people that were kind to him, and if dungeon crawling was the help they needed, maybe he could be that.