While Worthy Dungeon was busy with the process of committing blue-on-blue violence, Lyota Silverstar was sitting alone at a table in The Lucky Bastard, wondering how in the hells she was going to write up her next report. Had she failed before she'd even begun? She and her team could surely still do the tasks required of them, it wasn't as if one person being banned from the core chamber was a fatal wound to their mission, or such. But it certainly wasn't good. They were supposed to be here on a long-term assignment, and now on their second intrusion one of them was already being singled out for specific restrictions by the dungeon?
Oh, and the dungeon was already aware that they were Domain agents. That, at least, was not her fault. Lyota could hardly help it if she'd been assigned a team of loyal Domain citizens, and that such a team tended to stick out in Rainlander territory. The Domain did of course have other agents, native-born citizens of the Kingdom of the Rainlands or the Valleylands. But such agents were fewer in number, and had to be carefully kept secret for more important tasks. Still, this didn't appear to be a serious risk to the mission either, at least not at the moment. The dungeon didn't appear to be actively hostile to Domain citizens, and as long as it didn't tell anyone else, things were...fine.
It was still two black marks against the mission at such an early stage. Would they be able to work around them, or was Lyota going to be -
The fury demon's thoughts are interrupted as the other demonic member of the party takes a seat at the table. "Afternoon, Captain Silverstar. You look even gloomier than usual today."
Lyota's displeased expression doesn't fade as she nearly growls at the incubus. "And I have good reason to be, Fatestealer. We have some good news to report, at least - we were the first party to experience the dungeon's newest floor, and not only that, we cleared it on our first attempt with no casualties. Still, I worry about the impact of the Core Guardian's words to us - to me, in particular. I may not be suited for command of this mission any further, or even to take part in it."
Lionel shrugs. "Well, I daresay your role is safe from the perspective of available alternatives. I am certainly no leader, and the kobolds are more interested in each other than the party or the mission, as I see it. And as for Wetears, well, the fellow keeps to himself even more than you do, which is saying something. Perhaps any of us could do in a pinch, but you still have my vote. Beats waiting around for someone else to be sent here, as well."
Eyeing the man a little suspiciously, Lyota poses a question. "You...actually wish for me to remain as party captain? That's surprising - I'm aware that your kind and mine do not exactly get along. In fact, I encountered a quarter-succubus just the other day who practically attempted to crawl into the floorboards rather than spend time in my presence."
Lionel smirks. "I may be the epitome of the easy-going Bard, but life isn't interesting without any struggles at all, you know. A little bit of conflict within a party is healthy, if you ask me. That said, it seems to me that you need a bit of...stress relief."
Lyota's expression shifts, although the suspicion remains. "...Just what sort of 'stress relief' did you have in mind, Bard?"
The incubus' grin grows wider. "Well, I was thinking perhaps I might start by carving a bit of graffiti into this table here. Then you could take me up to your room for a bit of 'punishment', and then we could follow that up by - "
"It's not 'punishment' if you enjoy it, Fatestealer."
Lionel claps a hand to his chest. "Of course! However, I am willing to put up with a bit of suffering, as long as, perhaps afterward, we could follow it up with - "
Lyota interrupts him yet again. "Get your urges under control, Bard. I'm familiar with the need to restrain myself until the proper time comes to feed. As for you, I'm certain you have a dozen candidates within this very building you could use to slake your lusts with, if you're so ravenous."
The man actually seems a little hurt. "Well, certainly! I just thought that, perhaps...well, no matter. I'll leave you to your gloom then, shall I?"
"Indeed, you shall." Lyota glares at the Bard until he makes his exit, before returning to her original train of thought. Well, that, and one other line of thinking. As if punishing a bit of graffiti would even be more than a snack...
Several hundred feet away, Elance was sitting in one of the observation seats next to the Association training yards, about to watch her prime applicant show off his skills. Trush was standing on one end of the field, swinging a wooden training axe, while at the other stood a pair of opponents, a set of half-elf siblings named Nalaff and Nalaney Greengrass. Normally, given that Trush was facing a one-to-four disadvantage in the number of arms on the field, this would be something of a bad match. However the older orc did have at least a few things on his side. For one, he was level 26 in his Shieldbreaker class, while the twins were still new to their Advanced classes, almost fresh from their training as a new Storm Cleric and Knife-Fighter Rogue, both only level 12. For another, like most half-elves the twin's other parentage was dwarven, and they stood noticeably shorter than their one-armed opponent.
Still, the pair seem more nervous about hurting the orc than being hurt, as the brother of the pair calls out. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather try this out one-on-one first, sir? Just to be on the safe side?"
Trush laughs across the yard. "Pffft, the day I can't handle a couple newbies like you is the day I check into the invalid's home! You want to even things out a little though, maybe take off a few of those luck charms you've got dangling around your necks, eh?"
Elance was a little curious about those herself - both of the twins were wearing three of the Worthy Dungeon luck charms, while most local Challengers rarely wore more than one, and even more rarely wore any at all during training. The sister sighs as she answers, though. "Trust me, if we took them off this would be far too easy for you. We need two or three of the things just to have an even playing field."
The orc raises an eyebrow at that, but shrugs. "If you say so, then. Mother, count us down!"
Elance does so, giving the two sides a countdown from her seat, and as the count runs out Trush and Nalaney both begin to charge forward. It's Nalaff who attacks first however, summoning a small cloud above the field which shoots out a bolt of lightning in the orc's direction. To her surprise the man actually parries it, blocking the shot with his axe, clearly an effect of some magical skill of his. The Church matron considers that an actual Elementalist would perhaps be harder to defeat, with a bit more 'oomph' behind their attacks, but for a low-level Cleric to have offensive skills at all isn't such a bad showing. Before she can spend more time considering the blessings of Roe, Goddess of Storms, Nalaney and the orc finally begin to engage in melee combat.
As a Shieldbreaker, Trush's abilities are mainly those of a heavy designed to counter other heavies - blows which penetrate armor, disarm weapons, and provide increased protection against enemy blows. Most of that is wasted against the Knife-Fighter however, whose primary defense is apparently based around the idea of never getting hit at all. The half-elf easily dodges his first swing with the axe, but finds herself somewhat surprised when Trush manages to dodge her own attacks in turn. They trade swings like that for another minute, with Trush dodging or parrying two more bolts from the hovering cloud in the process, but Nalaney only scores two minor hits with her training blades over the whole duration.
It is more than Trush manages, but Elance had spent some time studying up on Association training rules in preparation for these sorts of tests. Nalaney's blades were light and only hit areas covered by Trush's armor, and so as referee she judges that their effect would be rather minimal. The orc's weapon is far heavier on the other hand, and even a single hit would likely be a 'fatal' one. It's likely for that reason that Nalaney focuses more on dodging than attacking, perhaps hoping to tire the larger orc out over time. It's to everyone's surprise though when Trush turns mid-fight, and hurls his axe - his only weapon - across the field at Nalaff. It surprises no one more than Nalaff himself, who doesn't even attempt to dodge before the wooden weapon slams into his chest, knocking him to the ground with an 'oof'.
"Nalaff! What the hells?! That's one for you I guess, Shieldbreaker, but now you've lost the match!" The sister charges forward again, perhaps expecting an easy fight against the disarmed orc, but her surprise is even greater than Nalaff's when the orc manages to sidestep her and grab hold of her forearm. Swinging her around like a child, Trush tosses her once into the ground but without letting go, before stepping down on the half-elf with a heavy boot while pulling her arm upwards.
"Do you give, Rogue? I don't mind dislocating your arm if needs be, haha!"
"No, no, ah, you - you made your point! I'm tapping out!" The woman winces as Trush lets her go, perhaps wondering if her shoulder isn't already wounded as it is. Elated, Trush turns to face Elance in the stands - but before he can proclaim his victory a final bolt from the still-hovering cloud strikes the man in the back, sending him face-first into the dirt alongside Nalaney. Despite the groans from the field, Elance finds herself smirking as she begins writing her notes.
"Let's call round one a draw..."
Later that afternoon and back at The Lucky Bastard, Alizz was taking a bit of a 'break' from her office, sipping from a cup of tea as she did some light paperwork at a table. It wasn't a true break - she actually had regularly scheduled hours which she spent here at the tavern at least a few times a week. While the Agent had an open-door policy more or less for Challengers, whether it was about updates on the dungeon or chatting about various Challenger issues, few people actually made the effort to step into the office when they had complaints. Here at the tavern however gossip easily spread from table to table, and adventurers who might never schedule an office appointment would occasionally have no trouble asking for a seat at her table for a few minutes, if they had some concern to discuss.
So it was that Alizz was not overly surprised when Lionel Fatestealer stepped forward, briefly blocking her light. "Miss Field Agent, might I perhaps borrow a moment of your time?"
Alizz looks up and nods as she sets aside her paperwork. "Certainly, please take a seat. I don't suppose you're here to file your team's official report on Worthy Dungeon's newest floor, by any chance?"
The man shoots her a grin as he slides into a chair. "New floor? I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, Field Agent."
The drider rolls her eyes, but doesn't press the issue too hard. While the Challenger's Association did offer rewards on new information about dungeons, reporting it wasn't a strict requirement. Challenging could be a competitive field at times, after all, and information advantages could often be vital to a team attempting to make a living from the job. "If that's the case, then perhaps you and half your team should mind your tongues better after having a few drinks at the bar here. Gossip does have a way of getting around, after all."
"I suppose it does, I suppose it does. But no, Field Agent - I was actually hoping I might have the opportunity to talk about you, if I may be so bold."
Alizz looks up. "Me? I - oh. No."
The incubus raises an eyebrow. "No?"
"I have worked in the Domain, Bard Fatestealer, and I am quite familiar with the sight of a sex demon looking for their next fix." Alizz's eyes briefly glow blue, and she seems to study the man for a moment. "My, I'd say it looks like you haven't recharged in...five days? No wonder you came my way. No worries, however - I am not interested, but I do not take offense."
Lionel actually feels a little off-balance for a moment, from the way she easily saw through him both in verbal and arcane terms. "...I perhaps wonder if maybe I ought to, though. Just because I am an incubus, doesn't mean I only came here looking for sex!"
The Agent sips her tea before responding. "...Did you, though?"
"...Well, yes! If you must take all the fun out of things." The demon grumbles as he pushes his chair back. "Perhaps I shall leave you to your tea then, Field Agent?"
"Please, and thank you. Do come back if you wish to file that report, though." She gives Lionel a wink as he walks away, and the Bard decides he definitely needs another drink before he makes his next attempt for the day.
It doesn't take long for someone else to catch the man's attention, and coincidentally enough it's another female drider who does so. She's remarkably different from Alizz in many ways, however - younger, certainly, but also with a significantly different sense of style. Unlike Alizz's bookish attire, the drider walking up to the bar now wears only a pair of sashes across her chest, baring quite a bit of midriff between them and the sash at her waist keeping her decent. She also gives off a hint of elemental magic about her, rather than the mana-heavy richness of Alizz's arcane skills. Yet there's something else about her that calls to the incubus, a sixth sense given to the man by his class training. Curious, Lionel decides to slide on down the bar and see just what that's all about.
"Hello there! I hope you don't mind me interrupting, but I haven't seen you in town here before. I'd be happy to pay for your drink if you'd grant me a moment of your time."
The drider blushes as she turns towards him, and Lionel gets the definite impression that the young woman doesn't get hit on often - perhaps not surprising for a drider in Rainlander territory. "Oh? Ah! You're a, ah, you're an incubus! Right? Or did I get that wrong?"
Lionel gives her a genuine grin, flattered by how impressed she seems to be to see him. "Indeed I am, and you of course would be a drider, aha? Lionel Fatestealer, Gambler Bard, at your service." He doffs his cap towards her with a flourish, and the drider's blush only seems to grow.
"Oh, my. I, uh, I'm Slinz, Light Mage! I've been here before, actually - well, in town I mean, not this tavern, it didn't exist at the time yet. We were last here...a bit more than two months ago?"
Lionel nods as he finally notices the charms hanging around her neck - Worthy Dungeon luck charms. "Ah, so I see. Light Mage, Advanced class...recently trained, I take it?"
Slinz nods. "Yeah, it was actually Worthy Dungeon that finally gave us the boost we needed to break through. We never had any luck anywhere else, but here...well, not every run went perfect, but we got some nice loot and training experience!" Her face falls a little as she continues. "We, um...haven't had so much luck elsewhere since, though, so we decided to come back and see if things went better here a second time."
At the sound of the L-word, Lionel's interest grows. "You keep referring to your luck - and I notice all the charms you wear. I assume you're not talking in metaphorical terms?"
Slinz nods, a little sadly. "We, our party that is...we just seem to have the worst possible luck. Injuries, broken equipment, all sorts of problems. People actually started calling us The Miserables, and we kind of took the name ourselves. Except...for right here. Our first few runs in Worthy Dungeon went amazingly well. Now that we're trained up, we're wondering if we could even make it past Floor Three!"
Lionel actually feels a bit of alarm at that statement, knowing that most low-leveled Advanced don't even attempt the third floor, let alone intend to complete it. Yet, as he spends more time in the drider's presence, his skills continue to tell him that there is something more here than what there appears to be. "A solid ambition. Yet, allow me to explain something, my fine-legged friend. I am a Gambler, not only as a pastime but as a class, and I daresay I sense there is truly something unusual about your luck beyond just the charms you wear. Perhaps we could...help each other out, in a few different ways?"
"Help each other...?" Slinz trails off for a moment, before her eyes glance at his horns. "Oh! You ah...mean, help you with, um. Incubus things. Right?"
Lionel chuckles. "You could put it like that, yes. Although I think you'll find that even that's a mutually beneficial sort of assistance."
Slinz thinks for a moment before glancing around, perhaps checking to see if anyone else from her party is watching. "That sounds, ah...fine by me! I've got a room already if you'd like to...talk about things more privately?"
The incubus quickly finishes his drink before giving her another smile. "Miss Slinz, I would be delighted to."
DaScoot
Warning: Next time gets smutty!
Enjoy!
While Worthy Dungeon was busy with the process of committing blue-on-blue violence, Lyota Silverstar was sitting alone at a table in The Lucky Bastard, wondering how in the hells she was going to write up her next report. Had she failed before she'd even begun? She and her team could surely still do the tasks required of them, it wasn't as if one person being banned from the core chamber was a fatal wound to their mission, or such. But it certainly wasn't good. They were supposed to be here on a long-term assignment, and now on their second intrusion one of them was already being singled out for specific restrictions by the dungeon?
Oh, and the dungeon was already aware that they were Domain agents. That, at least, was not her fault. Lyota could hardly help it if she'd been assigned a team of loyal Domain citizens, and that such a team tended to stick out in Rainlander territory. The Domain did of course have other agents, native-born citizens of the Kingdom of the Rainlands or the Valleylands. But such agents were fewer in number, and had to be carefully kept secret for more important tasks. Still, this didn't appear to be a serious risk to the mission either, at least not at the moment. The dungeon didn't appear to be actively hostile to Domain citizens, and as long as it didn't tell anyone else, things were...fine.
It was still two black marks against the mission at such an early stage. Would they be able to work around them, or was Lyota going to be -
The fury demon's thoughts are interrupted as the other demonic member of the party takes a seat at the table. "Afternoon, Captain Silverstar. You look even gloomier than usual today."
Lyota's displeased expression doesn't fade as she nearly growls at the incubus. "And I have good reason to be, Fatestealer. We have some good news to report, at least - we were the first party to experience the dungeon's newest floor, and not only that, we cleared it on our first attempt with no casualties. Still, I worry about the impact of the Core Guardian's words to us - to me, in particular. I may not be suited for command of this mission any further, or even to take part in it."
Lionel shrugs. "Well, I daresay your role is safe from the perspective of available alternatives. I am certainly no leader, and the kobolds are more interested in each other than the party or the mission, as I see it. And as for Wetears, well, the fellow keeps to himself even more than you do, which is saying something. Perhaps any of us could do in a pinch, but you still have my vote. Beats waiting around for someone else to be sent here, as well."
Eyeing the man a little suspiciously, Lyota poses a question. "You...actually wish for me to remain as party captain? That's surprising - I'm aware that your kind and mine do not exactly get along. In fact, I encountered a quarter-succubus just the other day who practically attempted to crawl into the floorboards rather than spend time in my presence."
Lionel smirks. "I may be the epitome of the easy-going Bard, but life isn't interesting without any struggles at all, you know. A little bit of conflict within a party is healthy, if you ask me. That said, it seems to me that you need a bit of...stress relief."
Lyota's expression shifts, although the suspicion remains. "...Just what sort of 'stress relief' did you have in mind, Bard?"
The incubus' grin grows wider. "Well, I was thinking perhaps I might start by carving a bit of graffiti into this table here. Then you could take me up to your room for a bit of 'punishment', and then we could follow that up by - "
"It's not 'punishment' if you enjoy it, Fatestealer."
Lionel claps a hand to his chest. "Of course! However, I am willing to put up with a bit of suffering, as long as, perhaps afterward, we could follow it up with - "
Lyota interrupts him yet again. "Get your urges under control, Bard. I'm familiar with the need to restrain myself until the proper time comes to feed. As for you, I'm certain you have a dozen candidates within this very building you could use to slake your lusts with, if you're so ravenous."
The man actually seems a little hurt. "Well, certainly! I just thought that, perhaps...well, no matter. I'll leave you to your gloom then, shall I?"
"Indeed, you shall." Lyota glares at the Bard until he makes his exit, before returning to her original train of thought. Well, that, and one other line of thinking. As if punishing a bit of graffiti would even be more than a snack...
Several hundred feet away, Elance was sitting in one of the observation seats next to the Association training yards, about to watch her prime applicant show off his skills. Trush was standing on one end of the field, swinging a wooden training axe, while at the other stood a pair of opponents, a set of half-elf siblings named Nalaff and Nalaney Greengrass. Normally, given that Trush was facing a one-to-four disadvantage in the number of arms on the field, this would be something of a bad match. However the older orc did have at least a few things on his side. For one, he was level 26 in his Shieldbreaker class, while the twins were still new to their Advanced classes, almost fresh from their training as a new Storm Cleric and Knife-Fighter Rogue, both only level 12. For another, like most half-elves the twin's other parentage was dwarven, and they stood noticeably shorter than their one-armed opponent.
Still, the pair seem more nervous about hurting the orc than being hurt, as the brother of the pair calls out. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather try this out one-on-one first, sir? Just to be on the safe side?"
Trush laughs across the yard. "Pffft, the day I can't handle a couple newbies like you is the day I check into the invalid's home! You want to even things out a little though, maybe take off a few of those luck charms you've got dangling around your necks, eh?"
Elance was a little curious about those herself - both of the twins were wearing three of the Worthy Dungeon luck charms, while most local Challengers rarely wore more than one, and even more rarely wore any at all during training. The sister sighs as she answers, though. "Trust me, if we took them off this would be far too easy for you. We need two or three of the things just to have an even playing field."
The orc raises an eyebrow at that, but shrugs. "If you say so, then. Mother, count us down!"
Elance does so, giving the two sides a countdown from her seat, and as the count runs out Trush and Nalaney both begin to charge forward. It's Nalaff who attacks first however, summoning a small cloud above the field which shoots out a bolt of lightning in the orc's direction. To her surprise the man actually parries it, blocking the shot with his axe, clearly an effect of some magical skill of his. The Church matron considers that an actual Elementalist would perhaps be harder to defeat, with a bit more 'oomph' behind their attacks, but for a low-level Cleric to have offensive skills at all isn't such a bad showing. Before she can spend more time considering the blessings of Roe, Goddess of Storms, Nalaney and the orc finally begin to engage in melee combat.
As a Shieldbreaker, Trush's abilities are mainly those of a heavy designed to counter other heavies - blows which penetrate armor, disarm weapons, and provide increased protection against enemy blows. Most of that is wasted against the Knife-Fighter however, whose primary defense is apparently based around the idea of never getting hit at all. The half-elf easily dodges his first swing with the axe, but finds herself somewhat surprised when Trush manages to dodge her own attacks in turn. They trade swings like that for another minute, with Trush dodging or parrying two more bolts from the hovering cloud in the process, but Nalaney only scores two minor hits with her training blades over the whole duration.
It is more than Trush manages, but Elance had spent some time studying up on Association training rules in preparation for these sorts of tests. Nalaney's blades were light and only hit areas covered by Trush's armor, and so as referee she judges that their effect would be rather minimal. The orc's weapon is far heavier on the other hand, and even a single hit would likely be a 'fatal' one. It's likely for that reason that Nalaney focuses more on dodging than attacking, perhaps hoping to tire the larger orc out over time. It's to everyone's surprise though when Trush turns mid-fight, and hurls his axe - his only weapon - across the field at Nalaff. It surprises no one more than Nalaff himself, who doesn't even attempt to dodge before the wooden weapon slams into his chest, knocking him to the ground with an 'oof'.
"Nalaff! What the hells?! That's one for you I guess, Shieldbreaker, but now you've lost the match!" The sister charges forward again, perhaps expecting an easy fight against the disarmed orc, but her surprise is even greater than Nalaff's when the orc manages to sidestep her and grab hold of her forearm. Swinging her around like a child, Trush tosses her once into the ground but without letting go, before stepping down on the half-elf with a heavy boot while pulling her arm upwards.
"Do you give, Rogue? I don't mind dislocating your arm if needs be, haha!"
"No, no, ah, you - you made your point! I'm tapping out!" The woman winces as Trush lets her go, perhaps wondering if her shoulder isn't already wounded as it is. Elated, Trush turns to face Elance in the stands - but before he can proclaim his victory a final bolt from the still-hovering cloud strikes the man in the back, sending him face-first into the dirt alongside Nalaney. Despite the groans from the field, Elance finds herself smirking as she begins writing her notes.
"Let's call round one a draw..."
Later that afternoon and back at The Lucky Bastard, Alizz was taking a bit of a 'break' from her office, sipping from a cup of tea as she did some light paperwork at a table. It wasn't a true break - she actually had regularly scheduled hours which she spent here at the tavern at least a few times a week. While the Agent had an open-door policy more or less for Challengers, whether it was about updates on the dungeon or chatting about various Challenger issues, few people actually made the effort to step into the office when they had complaints. Here at the tavern however gossip easily spread from table to table, and adventurers who might never schedule an office appointment would occasionally have no trouble asking for a seat at her table for a few minutes, if they had some concern to discuss.
So it was that Alizz was not overly surprised when Lionel Fatestealer stepped forward, briefly blocking her light. "Miss Field Agent, might I perhaps borrow a moment of your time?"
Alizz looks up and nods as she sets aside her paperwork. "Certainly, please take a seat. I don't suppose you're here to file your team's official report on Worthy Dungeon's newest floor, by any chance?"
The man shoots her a grin as he slides into a chair. "New floor? I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, Field Agent."
The drider rolls her eyes, but doesn't press the issue too hard. While the Challenger's Association did offer rewards on new information about dungeons, reporting it wasn't a strict requirement. Challenging could be a competitive field at times, after all, and information advantages could often be vital to a team attempting to make a living from the job. "If that's the case, then perhaps you and half your team should mind your tongues better after having a few drinks at the bar here. Gossip does have a way of getting around, after all."
"I suppose it does, I suppose it does. But no, Field Agent - I was actually hoping I might have the opportunity to talk about you, if I may be so bold."
Alizz looks up. "Me? I - oh. No."
The incubus raises an eyebrow. "No?"
"I have worked in the Domain, Bard Fatestealer, and I am quite familiar with the sight of a sex demon looking for their next fix." Alizz's eyes briefly glow blue, and she seems to study the man for a moment. "My, I'd say it looks like you haven't recharged in...five days? No wonder you came my way. No worries, however - I am not interested, but I do not take offense."
Lionel actually feels a little off-balance for a moment, from the way she easily saw through him both in verbal and arcane terms. "...I perhaps wonder if maybe I ought to, though. Just because I am an incubus, doesn't mean I only came here looking for sex!"
The Agent sips her tea before responding. "...Did you, though?"
"...Well, yes! If you must take all the fun out of things." The demon grumbles as he pushes his chair back. "Perhaps I shall leave you to your tea then, Field Agent?"
"Please, and thank you. Do come back if you wish to file that report, though." She gives Lionel a wink as he walks away, and the Bard decides he definitely needs another drink before he makes his next attempt for the day.
It doesn't take long for someone else to catch the man's attention, and coincidentally enough it's another female drider who does so. She's remarkably different from Alizz in many ways, however - younger, certainly, but also with a significantly different sense of style. Unlike Alizz's bookish attire, the drider walking up to the bar now wears only a pair of sashes across her chest, baring quite a bit of midriff between them and the sash at her waist keeping her decent. She also gives off a hint of elemental magic about her, rather than the mana-heavy richness of Alizz's arcane skills. Yet there's something else about her that calls to the incubus, a sixth sense given to the man by his class training. Curious, Lionel decides to slide on down the bar and see just what that's all about.
"Hello there! I hope you don't mind me interrupting, but I haven't seen you in town here before. I'd be happy to pay for your drink if you'd grant me a moment of your time."
The drider blushes as she turns towards him, and Lionel gets the definite impression that the young woman doesn't get hit on often - perhaps not surprising for a drider in Rainlander territory. "Oh? Ah! You're a, ah, you're an incubus! Right? Or did I get that wrong?"
Lionel gives her a genuine grin, flattered by how impressed she seems to be to see him. "Indeed I am, and you of course would be a drider, aha? Lionel Fatestealer, Gambler Bard, at your service." He doffs his cap towards her with a flourish, and the drider's blush only seems to grow.
"Oh, my. I, uh, I'm Slinz, Light Mage! I've been here before, actually - well, in town I mean, not this tavern, it didn't exist at the time yet. We were last here...a bit more than two months ago?"
Lionel nods as he finally notices the charms hanging around her neck - Worthy Dungeon luck charms. "Ah, so I see. Light Mage, Advanced class...recently trained, I take it?"
Slinz nods. "Yeah, it was actually Worthy Dungeon that finally gave us the boost we needed to break through. We never had any luck anywhere else, but here...well, not every run went perfect, but we got some nice loot and training experience!" Her face falls a little as she continues. "We, um...haven't had so much luck elsewhere since, though, so we decided to come back and see if things went better here a second time."
At the sound of the L-word, Lionel's interest grows. "You keep referring to your luck - and I notice all the charms you wear. I assume you're not talking in metaphorical terms?"
Slinz nods, a little sadly. "We, our party that is...we just seem to have the worst possible luck. Injuries, broken equipment, all sorts of problems. People actually started calling us The Miserables, and we kind of took the name ourselves. Except...for right here. Our first few runs in Worthy Dungeon went amazingly well. Now that we're trained up, we're wondering if we could even make it past Floor Three!"
Lionel actually feels a bit of alarm at that statement, knowing that most low-leveled Advanced don't even attempt the third floor, let alone intend to complete it. Yet, as he spends more time in the drider's presence, his skills continue to tell him that there is something more here than what there appears to be. "A solid ambition. Yet, allow me to explain something, my fine-legged friend. I am a Gambler, not only as a pastime but as a class, and I daresay I sense there is truly something unusual about your luck beyond just the charms you wear. Perhaps we could...help each other out, in a few different ways?"
"Help each other...?" Slinz trails off for a moment, before her eyes glance at his horns. "Oh! You ah...mean, help you with, um. Incubus things. Right?"
Lionel chuckles. "You could put it like that, yes. Although I think you'll find that even that's a mutually beneficial sort of assistance."
Slinz thinks for a moment before glancing around, perhaps checking to see if anyone else from her party is watching. "That sounds, ah...fine by me! I've got a room already if you'd like to...talk about things more privately?"
The incubus quickly finishes his drink before giving her another smile. "Miss Slinz, I would be delighted to."
DaScoot
Warning: Next time gets smutty!
Enjoy!
