Flak around and find out.
No truer words had ever been spoken. The brave, the foolhardy and the desperate never seem to think the consequences of their actions can have far reaching effects. I certainly hadn’t. You make a choice, stick with it, and then WHAM! What had seemed like a good idea turns out horribly. Many would call it karma or fate. From what I’ve seen since I died, the truth is far worse. The universe doesn’t care about you, never did and never will. Most of the time the universe just rolls some dice, checks the outcome and goes” Meh, sure. That works.” At this point I almost wish there had been a God that had judged me and just sent me to one of the non magical worlds. It probably would have been better than what I ended up with.
“Next in line! As a reminder I do NOT buy goblin dicks. If you're here to sell some, then bugger off!”
Three people began cursing and yelling at me from behind the glass panes. The others quickly shoved them out of line and reformed back into a...somewhat orderly queue. Ah, gotta love serving the unwashed masses. For those who can not tell, that is sarcasm. People suck, especially when they are in large groups waiting to buy and sell stuff. This phenomenon is known as retail hell and that is my afterlife.
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I had lived a rather normal life I like to think. My parents had been modest farmers, my elder brother the prodigal child, and I was the spare in case of emergency. Everything was ok for the most part. Once I was old enough I helped on the farm to develop some life skills beneath the watchful gaze of my father. We quickly learned I do not have a green thumb nor a head for animal care. When it was clear that would never be my path I was set up with a job working under my Uncle at his Grocery. While I can’t say it was fulfilling I had a decent enough knack for tallying receipts and serving people. After a decade of this though, I could feel my soul deflating.
The Customer is always right. What a saying. Too bad no one ever remembered that is only the first half of the saying. This led many to believe themselves above those who were considered “the help”. That kind of environment can crush even the most dedicated or optimistic. THat is what led to me thinking that I wanted to become an Adventurer and delve into Dungeons for wealth and glory. Turns out I was as shit with a sword as I was a hoe. I was killed by a horned rabbit in the first room of our local Dungeon. Shameful, if I’m being honest. But what can you do, once your heart is impaled and torn asunder there’s no use crying about it.
Where I had expected to find myself before one of the Gods receiving a judgement I had instead found myself sitting in front of a rickety desk manned by a frazzled woman wearing a vacant stare. The paperwork was piled high and threatening to tip over at the slightest hint of a breeze. She twitched and then shook herself out of her stupor. With a quick glance at me she pulled a form from one of the stacks and began what sounded like a rehearsed speech.
“Welcome Adventurer, you have died. As you perished in a Dungeon your soul falls into the purview of the Dungeon system. Do not panic, as this is the best outcome for you people, considering that you likely only know how to fight.” Wow, rude. “We will review your accomplishments and skills and assign you to either a new or an existing Dungeon. Let's check out your levels and how far you got.”
She looked down at the paper in front of her and froze. Her brow furrowed as she flipped the page over twice just to make sure she wasn’t missing anything before looking back at me with a befuddled look. “Wait, is this correct? You died in the first room, the first time you entered a Dungeon?
How is that possible? You’re 29!” I did not appreciate that judgemental tone. I shrugged and replied, “Yeah, I wasn’t cut out for the adventure life. What do you want? I spent most of my life as a Grocer, not a fighter.” She took a few seconds to parse what I said. I could see the gears turning behind her eyes. I mean, I get it. The dungeon I died in had been rated so low that most preteens looking to become Adventurers were sent there to get the hang of things. Frankly, it was just sad that I died the way I did. As if on cue, I could immediately see the pity fill her eyes. She frowned slightly then stood up, motioning me to wait. “Stay there for a second, let me see if we can get you sent over to the Mundane Deaths department. You…well really aren’t cut out for this side of things.” I looked around at the black void around us. “You got it lady.” She walked away, fading into the darkness. I started cleaning under my nails with a spare pen nib that was on the desk as I waited. By the time I had finished both hands and a foot she appeared back into the void around me.
“Well, I have some good news and some less good news. I couldn’t get my boss to swing you back over to the Mundane Deaths, since you did challenge the Dungeon and failed. That unfortunately is rather ironclad within the rules. However, given that you died to a trash mob, combined with your life experience of customer service…” I felt the pit of my stomach start to sink at those words. “I was able to find a posting with a new Dungeon that will be opening up soon. You are going to be testing out a new Dungeon Shopkeeper position! How exciting!” She beamed at me with unrestrained enthusiasm.
I gave it about three seconds of thought.
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“Could I just be sent to one of the Hells instead?”
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Despite my pleas I was quickly whisked off through the void and landed in a large room the size of a small village. At one end was a wooden stage that had seen better days with a podium in the center. Ahead of me sat rows upon rows of rickety chairs quickly filling up with all sorts of people dressed in various armors. I took a seat at the end of the back row as it was the closest one to me. I waited there, resigned to my fate, for about twenty minutes before the seats next to me and in front of me were filled by a party of extremely well built women. When I say well built I do not mean beautiful or voluptuous. I mean that they were built like war machines with forearms as thick as my leg. Based on their armor I assumed they were some sort of Barbarian fighters as they were bedecked in a mix of leather and fur armor, all sporting weapons of unusual size. The woman next to me was blonde with dark green eyes and a jawline that made granite look soft. I won’t lie, I was intimidated by the group. They were rough and aggressive, punching each other in the chest and the shoulder as they cracked jokes and slung friendly insults at each other. If I had to guess, I would say they must have known each other for a long time. Tentatively I reach up a hand to tap the blonde woman on the shoulder. And I do mean up, they were all at least a foot and a half taller than me.
“Excuse me, ma’am. Do you know what we’re waiting on?”
She whipped her head around in surprise before her eyes alighted on my diminutive form. A look of confusion crossed her features before she chuckled and spoke in an unexpected soft voice, “Sorry, I hadn’t noticed you there short stuff.” Obviously I was immediately offended but I was smart enough to not take umbrage with someone who looked like they could crush my skull between their thighs. “Did the death clerk not tell you?” I shook my head no and she nodded sagely. “Ah, my sisters have mentioned some are not as informative as others. We are assigned to a new dungeon. Once the slots have been filled the new Dungeon Master will greet us and give us our assignments along with a general run down. As far as I understand we will be the monsters that fill the various floors.Isn’t that exciting!” My eyes widened at that. Is that how dungeons normally work? Were the monsters in dungeons just slain Adventures doomed to be endlessly killed as dungeon mobs? That seemed…awful. And slightly poetic as some Adventures were real assholes. I tilted my head slightly and asked, “Does that mean we have our species changed? Or is this going to be a dungeon with human mobs?” The woman laughed in a clear and bright melody. “A human Dungeon? That would be idiotic, short stuff. If people wanted to kill other humans they would just become soldiers. No, Our species will be changed according to the Dungeon Master’s designs. We sisters of the Big Blades guild are hoping to become minotaurs, so all of the muscle we spent years building doesn't go to waste.” A few of the women let out a cheer at that with one putting up her hands in the shape of horns and letting out a playful snarl. “As for you, you should be excited. Maybe you too can become a minotaur and finally grow up!” The ladies all snickered at that, looking up and down my skinny five foot and two inch frame. One spoke up though, coming to my rescue. “Ah, Pella, leave the boy alone. Short, skinny men are the best lovers. When they try to leave, you can more easily subdue them.” She gave me a stare that I was not entirely comfortable with, yet at the same time I found myself intrigued…
No, now is not the time for those kinds of thoughts. I turned to the now name Pella. “One can only hope. I just realized I never introduced myself. My name is Zef Conifer. Nice to meet you.” I stuck out my hand before remembering that these were hard muscled women who spent their lives crushing things to death. My fingers felt the rough texture of hard earned calluses before being crushed into paste. Queue in a joke about unwanted handjobs.
Pella looked into my watering eyes and began introducing the group. “Well I’m Pella, this is Urda, that’s Berta, the maneater is Jirta” She got two quick fingers presented to her from Jirta “And the redhead is Max. Together we are the Big Blades Guild.” I was about to begin customary greetings when the lights suddenly dimmed and a bright light shined down on the stage. Without realizing it, all of the seats had finally filled and it looked like we were starting our orientation. Heavy music started to play from somewhere as fog began to roll across the stage. Multiple colored lights drifted across the stage before coalescing at the podium at the same time the music hit a crescendo. With a loud pop a tall and imposing being warped into the space as flames shot from the ground. Standing behind the podium was a man, or well half a man. His left half was a regular human man but his right half was just a skeleton. I was immediately curious what it looked like when you stared into his chest cavity. Was it just organs cut down the middle? Did the fluids and blood pour out? I regretted sitting so far back as I couldn’t see. Interrupting my musing, the Lich spoke, filling the space with his presence. “Welcome one and all! I am Garthixian, the Dungeon Master of this new dungeon. I thank you all for joining me in this auspicious event. Now, some of you have questions I am sure so allow me to address those first.” He smiled a skeletal grin and took a breath. “I don’t care what you think and if you bother me about petty concerns I’ll assign you as a slime on the first floor. I am the Master of this Dungeon and you will do as I say, when I say. This concludes the Q&A portion of the orientation.” He was met with stunned silence. A man further up stood up with a look of objection, but before he could get a word out Garthixian snapped his fingers and the man’s body compacted in on itself and he transformed into a pale green slime. No one else moved as the wet plop of the former man oozed up into the chair seat and sat quivering. Gathixian continued on, “So, just to be on the same page, here is what you can expect. This dungeon is meant to be an experiment for a great many things so I expect the first few years of operation may come with a few growing pains. Worry not, I will have it all under control and all you need to do is your jobs. Now for the assignments!”
He proceeded to rattle off names and floor assignments along with expectations for those involved. The Big Blades actually did get their desired outcome, becoming minotaurs assigned to later floors. This went rather smoothly, considering the lich’s disposition on our opinions. Eventually there was only about a score of us left. Gathixian gazed lazily over those of us still sitting before making a shooing motion with his hands. “You lot are the dungeon maintenance teams sent by the Association, you know what to do. Goodbye.”
