The Hostess of Fertility was especially busy, which was unfortunate for Tanya, who found herself tucked in a dark corner at the back of the tavern.
She was surrounded by full tables of adventurers, drinking and laughing boisterously as they added to the already overwhelming atmosphere. Tanya sipped her water, trying to focus on the text in front of her with squinted eyes.
The book was a treatise on Dungeon ecology she’d picked up from the library, detailing the behavioral patterns of monsters on the upper floors. It was dry reading, but useful. She was nearly through it when another burst of raucous laughter erupted from the table nearest to her, causing Tanya’s eye to twitch.
She turned a withering look their way. This group of adventurers had apparently returned from a successful delve, judging by the amount of food on their table and their inordinate amount of drinking. They were loud, obnoxious, and entirely indifferent to the fact that their revelry was disturbing the other patrons. They barely even noticed her glare and if they had, they didn’t care.
Tanya would have liked to have been in her room upstairs, away from the loud festivities, but it was being cleaned. A free service for more permanent patrons that Tanya was beginning to wish she had said no to.
She took a slow breath, forcing herself to refocus on the page in front of her. She had gotten perhaps a third of the way through the chapter when a shadow fell across her table.
She looked up to find a small man standing before her, his hands clasped behind his back. He was a Pallum with gold hair and a rather sophisticated outfit, at least compared to the other adventurers around her. There was an air of authority about him, a quiet confidence that belied his size.
“Pardon the intrusion,” he began politely. “But every other table appears to be occupied. Would you mind if my companions and I joined you?”
Tanya glanced past him to see a small group waiting near the bar. They were an eclectic bunch: two women with dark skin and far too little clothes between them, a silver-haired man with a sharp face and a pair of ears on his head, and a rather burly dwarf with a bright red beard and warm eyes.
Tanya took a look around, noting that her corner table was the only remaining table that could accommodate their group.
“Be my guest,” Tanya said, gesturing to the empty seats with a polite nod. “I’m afraid I won’t be much company, though. And please, try to keep it down.”
The Pallum inclined his head in thanks, sliding into the seat across from her. His companions followed, filing into the remaining chairs and taking a load off.
The two Amazons settled onto either side of Tanya, boxing her in against the wall. The one on her left had long dark hair and an impressive figure that she was showcasing quite freely, while the one on her right had shorter hair and a more athletic build. Both were barefoot, their legs pressing against Tanya’s thighs under the small table as if the concept of personal space had never been introduced to them.
“Hey there,” the shorter-haired Amazon said with a wide grin, leaning in far closer than Tanya would have liked. “What’s your name?”
“Tanya,” she replied, leaning back and staring at the woman oddly. She was already beginning to think this might have been a mistake.
“Tanya,” the Amazoness repeated, testing the name on her tongue. “That’s a pretty name! Where are you from?”
“Far from here,” Tanya said, trying to remain polite. “A small island nation. We were isolationists until recently, so I doubt you would have heard of it.”
“Ooh, mysterious!” Tiona leaned even closer. “What brings you to Orario? I think I’ve seen you around here but you’re always alone. Where’s your familia?”
“Tiona, give the girl some space,” the Pallum admonished. He turned his blue eyes to Tanya, regarding her with a polite gaze. “Forgive my friends. We’ve had a long day in the Dungeon. I’m Finn Demine.”
“Tanya Degurechaff,” she replied with a short nod. “And it’s quite alright. I understand the need for relaxation after a difficult sortie.”
Finn’s eyebrow rose slightly at her phrasing, but he said nothing. The dwarf across from her let out a hearty laugh, his beard shaking with the force of it.
“Sortie, she says! Military type, are ye?” Gareth grinned, ale already in hand. “Don’t see many of those in Orario. Most adventurers just call it a ‘run’ or a ‘dive.’”
“Habit,” Tanya shrugged, hoping they would leave it at that.
The silver-haired werewolf leaned across the table squinting. “What’s a kid like you doing in a tavern by yourself? You know you can get milk at the market, right?”
“Bete,” the other Amazon hissed, shooting him a glare that could have frozen magma. “Don’t be rude.”
“Tch. I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking.” Bete gestured dismissively at Tanya. “Look at her. She’s what, twelve? Thirteen? What’s with all the kids hanging around recently? Always getting in the damn way.”
“I’m old enough to go into the dungeon. I don’t think the city peacekeepers are very concerned if I sip alcohol in my free time,” Tanya responded. “Also, I’m renting a room in this establishment.”
Tiona’s eyes widened, her grin growing somehow broader. “Wait, so you’re an adventurer? What level are you? Which Familia do you belong to?”
“I’m unaffiliated,” Tanya said, picking at the pages of her book. “And I’ve no Falna, so no level to speak of either.”
The table went quiet. Finn studied her with renewed interest, while Gareth’s bushy eyebrows rose toward his hairline. Even Bete paused mid-drink, his ears twitching.
“Unaffiliated,” Tione repeated from Tanya’s other side, her voice skeptical. “You’re diving the Dungeon without a Falna? Alone?”
“I’ve been managing well enough,” Tanya said. “The upper floors are hardly insurmountable with proper preparation.”
“You’re lying,” Bete scoffed, setting his tankard down hard enough to splash ale across the table. “Nobody survives in the Dungeon without a blessing. Not even on the upper floors.”
Tanya smiled. “And yet here I sit, alive and reasonably healthy.”
“Then how are you managing the monsters?” Tiona asked, genuine curiosity staining her tone. “Goblins are easy enough, but what about War Shadows? Or Dungeon Lizards? Those things will tear through anyone without proper stats.”
“Strategy and proper equipment,” Tanya replied. “The creatures of the Dungeon are dangerous, but so is any other living creature on the planet. The only difference between monsters and say, a starving tiger, is that a tiger will think twice before tearing your throat out. You simply have to be prepared for the inevitability when it comes.”
Bete snorted, leaning back in his chair with a disbelieving scowl. “Strategy and equipment. Right. Because a sword and some rusty armor is going to stop a War Shadow from carving you into ribbons.”
“It’s not rusty,” Tanya said mildly. “I’ve maintained it as much as I could.”
“That’s not the point!” Bete’s ears flattened against his skull, his golden eyes narrowing. “You’re telling me you’re walking into the Dungeon without a blessing, without a party, and without any kind of divine backing, and you’re actually surviving? That’s not just stupid, it’s impossible.”
“And yet the evidence sits before you,” Tanya gestured to herself with a dry smile. “I understand your skepticism, but I assure you, I’m quite capable of handling myself.”
Finn raised a hand, forestalling whatever retort Bete was preparing.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “But you understand how unusual your situation is, don’t you? I can count on a few hands the amount of solo adventurers I’ve met, and not many of them last long without finding a party or, well...”
Tanya nodded. “I expect that there’s a rather high mortality rate. Unfortunately, my current situation doesn’t allow for the luxury of splitting my earnings with another person, much less an entire party.”
Finn’s expression shifted. “Debt?”
“Mmh,” Tanya nodded, admiring his shrewdness. He immediately caught onto the hidden meaning of her words. “The Apollo Familia administered potions to me after an incident, and now I owe them a rather significant sum.”
“How much?” Gareth asked.
“One hundred thousand Valis, all told. To be paid within the month,” Tanya said.
The table went quiet again.
“That’s a damned fortune,” Gareth muttered, setting his mug down. “For potions? What’d they do, drown you in the stuff?”
“The potions themselves were expensive, but the majority of the cost came from ‘opportunity expenses,’” Tanya said, making air quotes with her fingers. “They were planning an expedition and I waylaid that. They added the projected earnings to the total.”
“Convenient,” Tione said coldly.
Tiona’s face had darkened considerably, her earlier cheerfulness evaporating. “Apollo Familia. Of course it’s them.”
“You know them?” Tanya asked, though she suspected she already knew the answer.
“Know them?” Tiona scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Everyone in Orario knows them. Buncha creeps. Their god is the worst!”
“Tiona,” Finn said, a gentle warning in his tone.
“What? It’s true!” Tiona continued, ignoring the Pallum’s admonishment. “They’re always pulling stunts like this. The moment he finds someone he likes, he finds a way to get them. It’s practically an open secret at this point.”
“They’ve certainly tried,” Tanya nodded. “I met with their god yesterday. He was... less than subtle about his intentions.”
“I bet,” Tiona huffed, crossing her arms.
“Do you intend to pay it?” Finn asked.
“I intend to try,” Tanya replied. “Though given my audience with Lord Apollo yesterday, I have a feeling it may not matter. He seems quite intent on acquiring me regardless of my choice in the matter.”
Tiona scowled, slamming a fist into her open palm. “Screw that! If they try to keep you when you’ve paid what you owe, just beat ’em up! Crush them and walk away. Simple.”
Tanya blinked at the suggestion. “I hardly think assault is a viable legal strategy in this situation.”
“Legal?” Tiona waved a hand dismissively. “Who cares about legal? You’re an adventurer. Adventurers settle things with strength. If Apollo’s being a creep, just challenge him!”
Tanya opened her mouth to dismiss the notion entirely, but paused as it ticked something in her brain. Though technically real life rather than a work of fiction, this was ostensibly a high fantasy world. In such settings, duels to settle matters were commonplace. Could the same be the case here?
She had briefly read into Orario’s laws regarding interfamilial conflicts, but the texts had been dense and she had focused primarily on the financial aspects at the time to help her with her debt. Ultimately fruitless as she didn’t have a familia to begin with, but perhaps it was worth revisiting those sections with a new eye.
“An interesting thought,” Tanya said finally. “Though I suspect if it did come to such a thing would be more complicated than simply throwing a punch.”
There was a brief lull in the conversation as Tanya thought deeply about this new angle of attack to her issue. After a moment, Finn smiled, looking around at his companions.
“Well,” he said, “that’s enough doom and gloom for one evening. We came here to celebrate, didn’t we?”
Finn waved down a passing waitress, a young woman with brown hair and a harried expression that brightened somewhat when she recognized the group. He rattled off an impressive list of dishes: roasted lamb, stewed vegetables, fresh bread, and what appeared to be half the tavern’s available menu. The waitress scribbled furiously, her eyebrows climbing higher with each addition.
“Oh and one more thing,” Finn added, gesturing to Tanya. “Whatever she’d like. On us.”
Tanya straightened slightly, caught off guard by the offer. “That’s not necessary.”
“Nonsense,” Gareth rumbled, his massive hand patting the table hard enough to make the silverware jump. “You lent us your table when we needed it. Only fair you share in the spoils!”
Finn nodded. “Consider it thanks for tolerating our company.”
Tanya considered protesting further, but her stomach chose that moment to remind her that her earlier meal had been light and her dungeon run that morning had been particularly strenuous. The smell of roasting meat wafting from nearby tables wasn’t helping matters.
“Very well,” she conceded. “I suppose I could eat something.”
Tiona grinned and slung an arm around Tanya’s shoulders, pulling her into a side embrace that was far too familiar for someone she’d just met. “That’s the spirit! You’re eating with the Loki Familia tonight, so you’d better be ready for a good time!”
Tanya’s eyes widened minutely at the name, but she controlled her reaction, offering a small smile, even as she extracted the woman’s arm from around her shoulders.
Food was brought, consumed, and empty plates sent back. Though their party was small, each of the adventurers who called Tanya’s table home could put down more than three men from the 203rd. Compared to Tanya’s more modest appetite, they may as well have been bears.
They were loud too, though somehow not as noisy as some of the other patrons nearby. Tiona proved to be a touchy drunk, often jostling Tanya with one hand while holding a flagon in the other, face flushed with alcohol. Her sister migrated from Tanya’s side to Finn’s, forcing Gareth to move as she stared at the Pallum from behind her own drink. He pretended not to notice, too entrenched in his conversation with the Dwarf who replaced Tione at Tanya’s side.
Gareth, for his part, seemed determined to ensure Tanya didn’t feel left out, regaling her with tales of his adventures in the Dungeon. His stories were boisterous and heavily embellished, if the reactions of his companions were anything to go by. Tiona kept interjecting to correct details, while Bete scoffed from his end of the table, claiming he could have handled the situations better.
Their fun was cut short as a brawl ensued at a neighboring table, and both Bete and surprisingly Tione got dragged in. Through a convoluted and honestly hilarious series of events, the two ended up as each others’ final opponent, throwing punches in a drunken daze before finally being kicked out by Mama Mia herself when the woman came from the back to investigate the racket.
The rest of the group followed after, a longsuffering Finn herding his drunken companions toward the exit.
“You should come by the Twilight Manor sometime,” Tiona said, grinning blearily down at Tanya as she was half-dragged toward the exit by her sister. “We could show you around! Introduce you to some people!”
She was cut off as Tione stumbled, nearly sending them both to the floor.
“I’ll keep it in mind,” Tanya lied, watching the chaos unfold with amused detachment. “Thank you for the meal.”
“Anytime, lass,” Gareth called over his shoulder, waving a massive hand. “Stay safe out there!”
And then they were gone, leaving Tanya alone at her corner table with a stack of empty dishes and the dregs of other people’s drinks.
Tanya stared at the empty dishes for a long moment, her mind turning over the evening’s events.
Loki...
She hadn’t expected to share a meal with arguably the most prominent Familia in all of Orario. It was clear from the moment Finn asked to share her table that the group was cut from a different cloth than the rest of the adventurers in the tavern, but this wasn’t quite what she imagined.
They’re certainly a lively bunch, she thought, her eyes straying to the coin pouch Finn had left upon the table beside a broken tankard. At least they tip well.
Tanya gathered her book and the few belongings she had brought downstairs, tucking them under her arm as she rose from the table. The tavern was still lively around her, the noise of celebration and conversation washing over her in waves, but she had had enough socialization for one evening.
She climbed the stairs to her room, nodding to her waitress as she passed with arms full of drinks. The door clicked shut behind her, and she let out a slow breath, leaning against it for a moment.
Tiona’s words ran through her head, ringing over and over in her brain. Just fight them. A simple and borderline barbaric solution, but with some tweaking, perhaps it could serve some use.
Tomorrow, she would visit the library again. There were laws she needed to research, loopholes she needed to find. And perhaps, if she was fortunate, a way to turn Apollo’s own game against him.
~~~
The following morning found Tanya wandering the expansive floors of Babel, her eyes scanning the various shop fronts with intrigue.
Window shopping wasn’t her purpose today, nor was regular shopping, truth be told. She had everything she needed at the moment and every cent she made from now on would go straight to her diminishing debt. That being said, there were some leads she needed to follow up on.
Her computation orb had been sitting in her satchel for over a week now, a dead weight that served no purpose beyond reminding her of what she had lost. Though magic came easier in this world than the last, that just meant that even more powerful spells were locked away until she could get it fixed. Even a basic flight spell—practically impossible to achieve under one’s own power—would be a great boon when it came to traversing the cavernous halls of the Dungeon.
If there was even a chance it could be repaired, she needed to explore it.
Tanya had spent the better part of the morning making inquiries across Babel’s many floors. Most smiths looked at her computation orb with blank expressions, turning it over in their hands like a foreign object before shaking their heads. A few recognized it as something magical but admitted they lacked the expertise to repair it. One dwarf had simply laughed in her face before returning to his work. Tanya wasn’t really sure what provoked the reaction, but she saw no reason to stay and ask.
It wasn’t until she reached the fifteenth floor that her luck began to turn.
A small shop sat wedged between two larger establishments, its front window displaying an assortment of curious objects that didn’t quite fit together: a crooked staff, a dagger with runes etched into its blade, and a handful of crystals that pulsed with faint light. The sign above the door read ‘Krov Artifice’ in faded lettering.
Tanya pushed through the door, the bell above it chiming weakly.
The interior of the shop was cramped and dimly lit, cluttered with shelves of half-finished projects and scattered tools. A thick layer of dust coated many of the surfaces, and Tanya noted with interest that several of the displayed items bore signs of experimentation rather than attempts at sale. Clearly, this was a workshop first and a storefront second.
“Hello?” she called out, her voice echoing off the stone walls.
A crash came from the back room, followed by a string of colorful curses. Footsteps thundered toward the front, and a moment later, a woman burst through the curtain separating the shop from whatever lay beyond.
She was shorter than Tanya had expected, barely taller than herself, with a build that spoke of years spent hammering metal. Her arms were thick with muscle, her hands calloused and scarred from work. Dark hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and a long scar ran from her hairline down past her eye, cutting across her cheek before ending somewhere near her chin.
Her eyes lit up the moment they landed on Tanya, sharp and bright with an energy that seemed almost frantic.
“Customer!” The woman practically bounced behind the counter, her ample chest straining against her leather apron. “An actual customer! By the gods, I thought the dust bunnies were going to start paying rent before anyone else walked through that door!”
Tanya blinked at the reception. “I take it business has been slow?”
“Slow?” The woman laughed, the sound too loud for the small space. “Try nonexistent! I’ve had three customers this month. Three! And two of them were lost looking for the bathroom!”
“Perhaps I can help with that,” Tanya said, stepping further into the shop. “I’m looking for someone with expertise in magical artifacts. Specifically, repairs.”
The woman’s eyes widened, her scar stretching as her face split into a grin. “Magical artifacts? You’ve come to the right place! Krov Artifice handles everything from enchanted blades to broken staves. What do you need fixed?”
Tanya reached into her satchel and produced the Type 95. The device was small enough to fit in her palm, a series of interlocking rings surrounding a central core that had long since gone dark. The fissure running along its surface had grown, a jagged crack that rendered the entire mechanism inert at best and dangerous at worst.
She placed it on the counter between them.
“This,” Tanya said. “It’s a computational device used for spellcasting in my homeland. I was hoping it could be repaired.”
Krov picked up the orb with reverent hands. Her calloused fingers turned it over, examining the crack and the intricate workings visible through the gaps in the ruby casing. Her earlier exuberance faded, replaced by a focus that transformed her entire demeanor.
“Fascinating,” she breathed, holding the orb up to the light. “I’ve never seen anything like this. These rings, what are they for?”
“They’re meant to rotate during operation,” Tanya confirmed. “The device channels mana through a series of formulaic pathways, allowing for more complex spellcasting than would otherwise be possible.”
“Formulaic pathways,” Krov repeated, her voice hushed. She traced a finger along the crack in the casing. “Similar to runic inscription, but three-dimensional, and much more complex. The design is inspired, but honestly a little overdesigned for a regular catalyst.”
“Can it be repaired?” Tanya asked.
Krov set the orb down carefully, her expression shifting from wonder to apprehension. “The crack in the casing is the primary issue. The mana flow is disrupted, which causes mana leakage and renders the whole thing unstable. The internal mechanisms might be intact, but without a proper seal, the energy just bleeds out.”
The woman spoke with the confidence of an expert in her field. It seemed that Tanya had come to the right place.
“Is there a fix?”
“Oh, there’s always a fix,” Krov said, her grin returning. “The question is whether you can afford it.”
Tanya’s expression turned carefully neutral. “I’m prepared to pay a reasonable price for quality work.”
“My work is always quality, so that’s good to hear! Now, to start,” Krov turned the device over in her hands. “This casing is going to have to be replaced wholesale. This isn’t glass so I can’t just sand it and call it a done deal; I’ll have to special order the part. On top of that, it looks like some of these teeny-tiny gears have been damaged and I’m going to have to make those parts from scratch so that’s definitely going to add to the cost. Are there any enchantments hidden anywhere in this?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” Being X had been the one to originally stabilize it during her near catastrophic test run, but she wasn’t sure if his meddling had been a simple nudge, or a more permanent fix.
“That’ll make it cheaper, but not by much,” Krov tilted her head, eyes squinting. “For parts and labor, I’d say you’re looking at... Sixty thousand on the low end.”
Tanya’s expression remained carefully neutral, though internally she was doing some rapid calculations. Sixty thousand Valis was a significant investment. She hadn’t even amassed that much to pay off her debt.
“Is there any flexibility in that figure?”
Krov’s scarred face scrunched apologetically. “I’m afraid not. The materials alone would cost me nearly forty thousand, and that’s assuming I can even source them. This casing isn’t made of any metal I recognize. I’d need to experiment with different alloys just to find something compatible, and those experiments cost time and materials.”
She set the orb down on the counter between them, her calloused fingers lingering on its surface. “If I had the resources on hand, I could offer you a better rate. But as you can see...”
She gestured broadly to the dusty, empty shop, and Tanya simply nodded. Clearly, business wasn’t exactly booming for the smith.
Tanya picked up the computation orb, weighing it in her palm as she considered her options. Sixty thousand was a significant sum, and while the device would certainly make her dungeon runs more efficient, she couldn’t justify such an expense without exploring alternatives first.
“I appreciate your transparency,” Tanya said, tucking the orb back into her satchel. “Would you be willing to provide a written estimate? Something I can compare against other quotes?”
Krov’s expression flickered with disappointment, though the woman masked it quickly with a shrug. “Of course. Smart shopping. I’d do the same in your position.”
She scrawled something on a scrap of parchment, pressing it into Tanya’s hand along with a small card bearing the shop’s name and location. “If you find someone who can do it cheaper, power to you. But if you want someone who’ll treat that little beauty with the respect it deserves, you know where to find me.”
Tanya accepted the papers with a polite nod. “Thank you for your time. I’ll be in touch.”
“Wait!” Krov called out as Tanya turned toward the door. “Before you go, what’s your name? I like to know who I might be working with.”
“Tanya Degurechaff,” she replied, pausing at the threshold. “And you are?”
“Krov Bentric,” the woman said, grinning widely enough that the scar on her face pulled taut. “Failing artificer of the Hephaestus Familia, at your service. Feel free to come back if you want me to take another look at that beautiful piece. I’ve already got so many ideas...”
Ah, a creative type, Tanya smiled politely and nodded, not accepting or denying the... generous offer.
She strode out of the shop, clutching her orb tightly between her fingers while her mind lingered on the figure that she had been quoted. Sixty thousand was not a small number by any means, and she had a feeling that it wasn’t going to get much lower if she asked around.
She still would, of course. Comparing prices was just good business sense, but Krov didn’t strike her as the type to rack up prices on prospective customers given her already failing business. She was passionate about her craft, that much was clear.
In any case, I suppose I’ll have to wait until this business with Apollo is dealt with before I come back. Having a working computation orb around my neck would be much more comforting.
For now, it seemed that it was time to put nose to grindstone once again.