Dressed to Kill: A Seamstress LitRPG

I slammed into a wall outside of reality, diving into an ocean of unreal, breaking the surface of the water to see something alien. My ears popped as reality shifted and unmade itself around me, an overwhelming feeling of vertigo sending me stumbling forward. I gripped onto the needle in my hand as reality shifted from wrong to right in an instant.

It was still daytime inside of the dungeon, the sun low to the horizon and cutting the landscape in colors of burning orange and red. I checked my surroundings, alert, but there was no monster this close to the entrance. Despite their name and reputation, dungeons were relatively safe, so much so that the resources at their edges were harvested by the villagers.

Fields of grains waved in an invisible breeze, an ocean of farms expanding outwards to the edge of the dungeon where the world grew hazy. A dirt road led upwards to the center of the dungeon; a pile of boulders pinning the entire world together.

I looked back at the dungeon entrance. On this side, it was pristine, maintained by magic. Alabaster stones reflected the suns light, polished to a reflective sheen.

The muddled image of Gerald was visible through the archway, barely identifiable throuhg the rippling haze between us.

I steadied myself, turned around, and started walking toward the pile of boulders at the center of the dungeon.

I could do this.

I could kill the monsters. And I could still be a Seamstress.

All I had to do was hunt a few animals. I had done that before. Granted, it was with a gun and an entire lifetime ago. And they weren’t wolves. I kept telling myself I had no reason to be nervous, pressing on despite the floaty feeling urging me to turn around and lay down for the night.

It was just some wolves. Wolf shaped things. Hardly even unworldly monsters. Probably under that pile of rocks. Or on top of it.

With a steadying breath, I strode forward to a den of monsters.

Every time I cleared the dungeon, it would slow down the towns decay. Eventually, with daily clears, I could reverse the decay and expand our village. I could prevent my family from being shipped off and sold as serf labor to another noble or clipped onto an infrastructure project a world away from the life we’ve built.

The small pile of rocks loomed over me when I got close, boulders stacked haphazardly, filled with openings that led downwards into a wolf den. I heard scratching on the stone as I approached, slowly, step by step, holding the needle between me and any danger as I followed the road around. The stones compressed against each other, forming an archway that opened down into the dark. The suns light at my back cast my shadow long into the cave.

This was the Dungeonheart, the core of this floor that held the monsters or bosses.

I squinted trying to see inside.

Rumors from the town told me that it was full of wolves — just normal wolves. But no one knew how many there were. I stepped forward toward the entrance.

A wall of fur and flesh and teeth leapt towards me the moment I took the step, its form resolving in the dark, my eyes seeing its legs flash as it threw itself off the ground and forward and rushed towards me. It let out a noise half way between a bark and a growl.

[Running Stitch I] [Mana: 8/10] [Cancel]

[+4 XP]

I heard the crunch of bone, flesh giving way with a dull wet noise. My arms sagged at the weight as I tried to reconcile what I was looking at, the magic that had grabbed my arms and forced them to move confusing my sight.

There was a dead wolf on my sewing needle. It hung limp, blood oozing from point of contact between the improvised weapon and it’s skull. I gasped, kicking the monster repeatedly to try to free it from my needle. With the third kick, it struck the ground. I panted from the effort, crouching low, holding the needle, looking for more monsters. Adrenaline pumped through my limbs. I was a coiled spring, ready to jump forward.

Nothing came.

I crept over the body, walking deeper into the cave, my eyes adjusting to the dark, following the sound of scratching. A wolf dug at the stone wall and the ground, freeing dirt. It stuck its nose down, sniffing at whatever it was trying to free from the earth.

I buried my sewing needle into it’s skull.

[Running Stitch I] [Mana: 7/10] [Cancel]

[+4 XP]

Exhilaration washed over me, washing away the fear of confronting a cave full of monsters. My eyes scanned every shadow. I was happy to be short for once; I barely had to duck to fit into the home of the wolves.

One of the shadows moved. It’s eyes flashed in the dark. How had I not seen it?

I threw myself at the ground, feeling my leg scrape on the dull stone, my ankle resisting bending farther with a spike of pain. The wolf landed with a thump, dashing forward and turning around. Its form blended with the shadows filling the cave, and even as I watched it became less corporeal, harder to track with my eyes.

[Health: 9/10]

I waved the pop-up away.

The wolf had a fucking stealth skill. Give me a break.

[Running Stitch I] [Mana: 6/10] [Cancel]

[+4 XP] [Level up] [Excess Discarded]

My hands shook from the adrenalin. I put a foot down and forced the wolf off my needle, dropping the body on the floor. Turning to look deeper into the cave, I weighed my options.

What would this wolf give me? I could make a cloak from its pelt, deep black. Would it raise my Dex? My Speed? Or, could it grant me a skill of its own?

I didn’t need any more kills. I was already level 2. I grabbed the leaking corpse of the wolf and dragged it out of the cave, careful and quiet, moving until I was far from the wolf den. The world was plunging into shadow, night time encroaching in the dungeon world. When I dragged the wolf far enough I fell back, sitting down and pulling up the leg of my pants.

Falling against the stones had broken open my skin, leaving me bleeding, and this world didn’t have antibiotics. Ironic that I was injured by the environment rather than the monsters. I reached into my bag for a canteen of water and cloth, cleaning and dressing the wound, before packing up and dragging the wolf body to the exit.

I should have brought a wagon — the other bodies were going to go to waste. The dungeon would erase them tomorrow. Stretching, I finished dragging the monster out, nearly falling to the ground as I stepped through the portal back to town.

Exhilaration warred with my nerves, extra shocks from the adrenalin fading. There was a dull ache in my leg. All I wanted to do was scream with joy. Being a Seamstress didn’t change any of my plans. I could still protect the town from the encroaching eviction and I could still inherit my mothers shop and will. My earlier worry was foolish.

I dragged the corpse through the dungeon entrance and into the city.

“What are you going to do with that?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin, turning to look at Sandy. She made Gerald look smaller next to her, a full head over me, staring down. She walked towards me, looking me up and down, her eyes hovering on the blood that had soaked through my pants. She sighed with disappointment.

“I’m going to make…” I trailed off. What was I going to make out of it? I looked back at the wolf’s body. “A cloak out of it.”

“Yeah, you gonna kill the wolf, butcher it, strip the body, and tan the leather by yourself? In your tailoring workshop?” Sandy asked, gesturing to my backpack. I took a step back. “With a Seamstress class?”

“I didn’t — no one said I had a Seamstress class.” I replied, looking over at Gerald.

“I didn’t tell her.” He said.

“If you had a noble class, you wouldn’t be sneaking around to clear the dungeon in the middle of the night.” Sandy replied. “It would’ve been an event with the whole town invited to party.”

Shit, was I that obvious? I stared wide eyed at Sandy.

“No, but I know for sure now.” Sandy said, sighing. “So I’m going to assume you haven’t told your mom.”

“She wouldn’t approve.” I said.

“Alright. I’ll let you know when the leather is ready for you. Do you want the bones?”

“What?” I asked, caught off guard. Sandy was a year older than me — she had always been abrasive. I assumed she would rush to her father or my mother and tell on them tonight. Instead she was here. “You’re offering to… what? Butcher it for me?”

“Yes,” Sandy said, clearly irritated she had to explain, “My father never comes into the butchering workshop. We can drag it there and no one will ever see it.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because I don’t want to move. Yet. Stupid as your plan is, if you can keep clearing the dungeon, I can keep living here.” Sandy said, stepping past me and grabbing the wolf. She picked it up by the scruff of its neck, moving it with ease. Another bonus of a class, probably. “Are you coming?” Sandy stopped and turned around to ask.

I looked to Gerald. He shrugged.

Sandy led us to her workshop. It was on the other edge of town from my house, the streets dark, everyone packed inside and asleep for the night. Sandy led us to a side door barely hanging on its hinges. The smell of blood and wood poured out as she pushed it open, the hinges creaking protest.

“Mind the step.” She said.

I followed her carefully through the uneven ground directly behind the hanging frame, taking in the room. An oil lamp burned in a corner, providing enough light to work with. Sandy threw the wolf to the side, blood pooling where it landed. Hooks hung from the ceiling, mostly empty. One of them had what looked like a deer hanging from it. It wasn’t really a deer, just something close to it. Close enough that I always mentally translated the word for animals to their english equivalents.

A table in the corner was covered in polished knives, a bucket of water sitting on the side.

“You sleep in here?” Gerald asked. I looked back at him.

He was staring around in a daze. Indeed, pressed into one corner of the room there was a bed and a dresser, clothing hanging from the hooks. The other workshop furniture had been pushed to the side or sat in disrepair.

“Better than having to talk to my dad.” Sandy said. “Or share a room with five people.”

Without pause, she reached for an apron and pulled it off the ceiling, tying it behind her back. Then, she lifted the wolf with one hand, turning it around appraisingly. The monster was almost as large as I was — it was disquieting to see it handled so easily. Sandy mumbled to herself.

“Probably will only take a day or two,” She said. “I’ll take most of the meat as payment. You never answered. You want the bones? There’s not much fat on it.”

“No!” I said. “Why would I?”

Sandy shrugged.

“I could take some of them. I think I might be able to make something with them.” Gerald said.

“Alright. Whatever I don’t feed to the dog, then.” Sandy said.

“When did you get a dog?” Gerald asked.

“Yesterday. Still a pup. One of the Templar Guards found it in the forest, traded it to us. I’ll let you know when I’m done.” Sandy looked over the tools on her table, eventually settling on a very, very large knife, before turning back to the wolf.

“I’ll uh, talk to you then.” I said, stepping back before Sandy started carving it open. She grunted an affirmation and I pushed my way out of the door.

“So… how did it go?” Gerald asked. I grunted.

“Well enough. Nothing but a few wolves inside. That one I brought… is something special, I think.”

“You level up?”

“To two.” I replied.

“What are you going to spend the points on?”

I pulled open the system.

[Gwendolyn Tailor][Human, Lv2][Seamstress]

[Health: 9/10][Mana: 6/10][XP: 0/10]

[Points available: 1]

[ATTRIBUTES]

►SPD: 10 ►WIL: 5

►STR: 5 ►DEX: 10

►CON: 5 ►PER: 5

[SKILLS]

►Crafting I ►Running Stitch I

[PATTERNS]

►[NONE]