Dungeon 42

A Capricious Lady

Chapter 43

As the skeletons began to filter into the central area of the necropolis, they were treated to a strange sight. Tables had been set up, and decorations in green and black applied. A psychic murmur went up among them.

It had been quite clear to most of them the dungeon's Mistress had been up to something. They just never considered it was related to them, let alone a party. That she deigned to speak with them in the fashion of the living had been an extreme novelty.

"What's the point of this?" someone asked.

"Fuck if I know, but dibs on the drinks," Chris replied cheerily. No one had been asking him, and more than a few jewels rolled in sockets. Unbothered, he swooped in to grab a cup. Unlike a proper liquid, whatever he was ingesting didn't just splash down onto the floor from the bottom of his skull.

"I-I believe that's a drink from our Mis-Mistresses personal stock. It seems not to care for rules," Henry said by way of explanation. He'd seen the cans before and watched Chris drink, though he'd refrained from trying it at the time. It had seemed prudent to observe if anything happened to the other skeleton first before imbibing.

Henry's words got a few skeletons curious as they took seats and tentatively tried the drink. Quiet conversations passed among them found the odd ever-changing beverage curious and not often unpleasant. The sensation of drinking itself was sufficiently interesting to keep trying it even when the flavor failed to impress.

42 had been present since they first arrived and as the bards began to play she started making rounds. Like many things about her this was just another layer of interesting strangeness to the more vetran skeletons. To newer ones it was somewhat alarming.

"Hi! Let me know if you all need anything," 42 chirped as she drifted by a table. The occupants immediately quieted, awaiting an order. None came, and their Mistress merely hovered for a few moments before flitting awkwardly away.

"What are we expected to do?" Kessia Ann Clavicle asked irritably once 42 moved on. The dungeon master hadn’t stopped by their table yet but she seemed bound to as things went. A fact which annoyed Kessia.

Kessia was a recent addition and the first of the human female fighters. She'd chosen to keep her base class instead of specializing.

"Enjoy ourselves, play cards, drink," Dawn replied.

"Why?" Kessia asked tartly.

"Because it's a party," Dawn shot back. Her tone clearly indicated disappointment in Kessia's relative intelligence.

"Yes, that much is obvious. But why it's happening, the point, isn't," Kessia said, crossing her arms and trying to look menacing. Her eye jewels brightened visibly, but Dawn wasn't impressed. They were both skeletons, so physical intimidation wasn't exactly in the cards when everyone was basically the same size.

Adding the ability to respawn to the mix only decreased any sense of tension. Having to wait a few hours after being destroyed was at worst a mild inconvenience. It took the teeth from threats of violence even without the skeletons lack of a sense of pain.

"From what I've ob-observed, our Mi-Mistress prefers that we conduct ourselves similarly to to the living. When a hero arrives we'll we'll be expected to w-work. When they are absent or were not per-personally needed, then we are at lei-leisure," Henry interjected, wanting to head off an argument. Despite his stutter he wasn’t particularly shy about talking. At least not when there was a purpose to it.

"I was given the same impression. She's quite easy-going compared with others I've served," Dawn agreed.

"I doubt that's a good thing. She should be focused on important matters, not frivolities," Kessia complained. A rather pointed silence reigned for a few moments as Dawn and Henry looked at Kessai rather pityingly.

A few tables away, Chris was up to some kind of shenanigans. He'd put a party hat on his face and was making bird noises. It diffused the awkward moment and Dawn would have grinned if she had flesh.

"Chris, join us for a round of cards," Dawn called out. Henry glanced sideways at her, irritated at the rogue’s inclusion, but didn't say anything.

"Let's play for bones!" Chris replied enthusiastically.

"What would you even do with more?" Dawn asked as she chuckled.

"Let's just use the chi-chips," Henry said firmly. Chris didn't argue and sat down to play. When he reached for the deck he got an admonishing slap on the hand from Henry who took it instead. Henry shuffled the deck profficently but without any particular flourish.

Poker was a common enough game but it took a couple of false starts to hit on a version they could all play. None of them commented on the disconnect implied and simply paid attention to their cards for the first few hands.

"You know, I've meant to ask. Chevalier is a kind of knight. What was your noble title?" Kessia inquired as the game was played. Henry, who'd been paying more attention to Chris's cheating and 42's awkward attempts at socializing, was caught off guard.

"P-Pardon?" Henry asked in surprise.

"I was just curious. I remember a bit of my life. I held the rank of Ducellet," Kessia offered.

"It's my cla-class rather than a rank or or title. I was a commoner, and I know little else of myself be-beyond that," Henry replied somewhat stiffly.

"I sincerely doubt that. Swordplay like yours isn't simply learned on the streets," Kessia said and laughed like one of them had said something funny.

"Perhaps not the streets, but the nobility hardly have a monopoly on combat skills. I rather think the peasants in an army outnumber the nobility," Henry said, flatly. His words coming out almost strangely clear. Kessia didn’t seem to notice anything amiss and laughed again. She was also looking at him with an intensity that Henry did not appreciate.

"Besides, swords are too long to really work in the streets or a back alley, no room to swing. Better off with a short sword or a good knife," Chris added.

Henry nodded in agreement before he caught himself. Chris noticed but didn’t comment. A gentleman's agreement of sorts forming silently between them.

"Well, perhaps you were adopted into a noble house or granted a title for meritorious service," Kessia offered thoughtfully.

"Oh, I think our Mistress is trying to sneak out," Dawn observed. Henry and Chris looked over, and it did seem like 42 was actually trying to blend into the shadows beyond what came naturally. It was a rather curious sight as she appeared to have no talent for it and made herself more conspicuous instead.

"Really, I have to wonder how long we'll all be made to play along with this farce before it all comes crashing down," Kessia grumbled. Not hearing her words, Henry left the table without excusing himself, though he did cast Dawn a look. Dawn nodded in reply as he left in the direction of the mirror.

"This has to be your first dungeon," Chris said archly.

"Why would you say that?" Kessia asked defensively, distracted from Henry's exit for a moment.

"Because you'd shut the fuck up if it weren't," Chris replied cheerfully.

"You foul-mouthed little beast!" Kessia growled.

"He's also right. Most masters will set us up like chess pieces and leave us to rot. Never acknowledged, let alone speaking to them or even each other. Just waiting in a crypt till someone shows up to be ambushed or guarding something," Dawn said conversationally. Rather than reply Kessia simply got up and stormed toward her crypt.

"Hey Dawn, let me use your arm," Chris asked suddenly.

"Why?" Dawn inquired. If she were still of the flesh, her eyebrows would have been raised.

"Angelo's trying to impress Heather. I want to slap him and when he grabs the wrist, then run off and leave it behind," Chris replied impishly.

"Use your own arm," Dawn replied with a roll of her jewels.

"Yeah, but I'll need both to fight him afterward. I tried stashing some bones before a respawn, but they disappeared, so that won't work," Chris said meditatively. Dawn shook her head, wondering why he'd be so frivolous about everything else but so devoted to his pranks.

"If you call him a whore like a spurned lover, and I'll lend a hand," Jeffry Allen Clavicle, a human fighter, cut in from the adjacent table. He disjointed his arm at the shoulder to emphasize his point.

"You, sir, are a gentleman and a scholar," Christ replied, taking the proffered arm. Dawn looked between the two men and shook her head. She hoped 42 made good on her word and got some more entertainments into the dungeon soon. If not, then it was pretty clear the distractions they manufactured for themselves would become increasingly nonproductive.

Dawn watched the ensuing chaos with a chuckle rather than disapproval. One didn't willingly follow Laminal, goddess of night, death, and secrets if they didn't enjoy a certain amount of mischief, and Dawn had been a devout follower.