Rebirth: Crawler

The next morning, Ayn found herself outside the Crawler’s Guild, staring down the door far earlier than she wanted. She’d wanted to stay and help her mother and Miit with the morning chores but had been overruled and shoved out the door instead. Her mother had insisted her party was simply going through growing pains, and a good night’s sleep would help everyone see clearer. Ayn didn’t bother telling her that was exactly what she was afraid of.

Ayn found a table in the back corner of the guild. Other than the NRCs, standing stock still behind their counters, she was alone. She flicked open her character screen. As excited as she’d been when she’d leveled up, her enthusiasm had dwindled until she’d forgotten about it. Now was a good time to set the rest of her stats, even if she might disband the party soon.

She still had four points left.

Stat spreads determined how well a combat class performed in certain playstyles. A Rebirth’s playstyle, and how well they handled it, determined how their combat class would evolve. Ayn had hesitated over spending the rest of her points in health, because she knew an even spread would handicap her playstyle in the long run, even if the health bump would help her take hits. A few quick taps, and she was done. She’d just have to avoid face-tanking.

Ayn

Swashbuckler Lv. 2

Health: 368 Mana: 10

Strength: 41 Essence: 4

Agility: 60 Focus: 4

Skills

Acrobatics Lv. 2

The skill to do jumps, flips, rolls, and balancing.

Sleight of Hand Lv. 1

The skill to obscure what you’re doing with your hands.

Ayn stared at the character screen. Her mother had started as a Swashbuckler. She’d coached Ayn on the ideal non-combat stat spread and playstyle to get the class, and Ayn had wanted nothing more than to follow in her footsteps—to not only go as far into the Dungeon as her parents did, but farther. She’d wanted to prove to her parents, and herself, that she could get right back up and go again, no matter how many times the Dungeon knocked her down.

“Oh, going with agility, huh?”

Ayn jumped, her chair squeaking across the floor as she turned to face Kayara.

Kayara laughed, the feather on her ridiculously green hat bobbing up and down. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Or maybe I did.” She shrugged. “If you’re going evasion tank, you’d better work on that awareness.”

Ayn wasn’t sure there was an “us” anymore, but she kept the thought to herself. “Right.”

Kayara raised an eyebrow and studied her. After a bit of awkward staring, she broke away and moved over to the NRC refreshments counter. She returned with two tankards, which she promptly slammed onto the table.

“Drink up, O Great Leader,” she said. “I got us both Bug’s Brew. Bonuses to agility and might even taste better than it sounds.” Kayara slid into her chair and took a gulp. Her face contorted, cycling through various expressions. None of them were good. “Nope. Tastes worse. Ah well, every bit helps. Come on, let’s toast.”

Kayara held her tankard out. When Ayn made no move, she sighed and placed it back down. “What’s up?”

Ayn frowned. “All of yesterday.”

“That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”

“No.”

Kayara waited for Ayn to continue, and when it was clear she wouldn’t, shook her head. “Now you’re turning into Sheyric. Friendly word of advice—don’t. Don’t bottle everything up inside or it’ll eat you.”

“That’s why I’m not a leader.”

“Hmm?”

“You have so much advice. You’re confident. Yesterday, I don’t think you were ever in danger. A leader is someone you can rely on and look up to. I spent all of floor one relying on you while trying not to die.”

“Can I ask you how long you’ve been a Rebirth?”

Ayn’s mouth clicked shut. While it wasn’t taboo to ask such a thing, it was considered a highly sensitive topic, especially for Ayn. Still, the thought of confiding in someone held a certain appeal.

“Nevermind—”

“This is my second character.”

Kayara nodded and leaned forward. Expectant, but not demanding.

“My first character didn’t last long. My ‘parents’ weren’t interested in carrying a newbie, so I learned as I went. Crawling seemed so majestic, so freeing, you know? What better way to show everyone I didn’t need their help than get to the deepest level of the Dungeon?” Ayn swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. The words were getting harder to push out, but now that she’d started, she found she couldn’t stop the flood. “I was an idiot who hadn’t learned anything. I scraped by on floor one, just relying on my party. Floor two was Abyssal mobs in the Abyss. What are the odds of the mobs and dungeon tileset matching up?”

Kayara offered a thin smile. Ayn saw something in her eyes. Pity, maybe, or a growing distaste.

“They ripped us to shreds. I didn’t even see them coming.”

“They’re known for their stealth, and in the Abyss—”

“I was a Scout!”

Kayara stood up, and Ayn immediately regretted her loose mouth. She knew talking about her past drive people away. She hadn’t even got to the worst part—she’d lied to her first party. They had believed she was an experienced Crawler.

Ayn refused to look Kayara in the eye as the ranger walked behind Ayn’s chair and toward the door. Arms wrapped around Ayn, Kayara’s cheek coming to rest against hers, rainbow hair drifting into the edge of her vision, as the ranger leaned in to hug her.

“That’s very brave of you to talk about,” Kayara said.

Ayn blushed, feeling like a small child getting comforted by her mother. The light scent of sweet and sour candy coming off of Kayara only added to it.

Kayara squeezed harder, then let go and returned to her seat. Somehow, she looked unbothered. She truly was a born leader.

“I didn’t start like this, you know,” Kayara said.

“Like what?”

“The leader you seem to see in me. I’m not trying to be one.”

“Of course not. It comes naturally to you.”

“I’ve simply had more experience. More time for failures.”

“You don’t seem like the kind to fail.”

“You’d be surprised. My point is, you’re still learning. Rebirth is an eternity, and you’ve just started. Give yourself time to live. You’ll pick it up.”

“Right.”

Ayn looked away. Leadership oozed from Kayara. She didn’t even have to try. “Do you think Sheyric and Bren will come back?”

Kayara accepted the shift in conversation with the same grace she had for everything. “I do. They’re both pig-headed.”

“Pig-headed?”

“They’ve committed to the party, and whether they like it or not, they’re the type to sick with their commitments.”

“How do you know that?”

“Call it intuition. But let’s keep your past character’s death between us for now, okay?”

Ayn nodded a bit too enthusiastically. As much as she had wanted to tell someone, the regret of doing so burrowed under her skin. She didn’t want to bring it up ever again.

“So,” Kayara said. “While we wait, why don’t we finish these amazing drinks bought with our hard-earned Crawler coin?”

She raised her tankard and grinned. This time, Ayn obliged, the drinks splashing over the rim of the tankards as they collided with a hearty thud. Ayn tilted her head back and chugged. Bitter, acidic liquid washed over her tongue and down her throat. She slammed the tankard back onto the table as she doubled over and choked.

Kayara laughed. “It’s really awful, isn’t it?”

Ayn glared at Kayara in between coughing fits. Not only did it taste awful, it continued to burn in her stomach. “That’s…just…mean.”

Kayara’s eyebrows shot up in a mockery of surprise. “I spent my share of coin to get you that so we could do better on our next floor. The taste…well that’s just a boon.”

“Mean.”

Ayn bared her teeth in an expression somewhere between a smile and a grimace as the burning faded. She had a feeling Kayara’s little prank was on purpose, a way to distract her from the wallowing she’d been doing. Kayara had told her to gain more experience to be a better leader, but she’d be better off simply studying the ranger.

By the time Sheyric walked into the guild, Ayn had nearly forgotten their troubles. One look at the hood pulled low over his face, and it all came crashing back down.

She and Kayara went silent as he slipped over to their table and sat down without a word. Ayn opened her mouth to greet him. Kayara caught her eye and shook her head. Kayara studied him, head cocked slightly to the side, no doubt planning her next pep talk to get them back up and Crawling.

Minutes ticked by. The silence thickened, settling on Ayn’s skin. She scratched absently at it, seriously considering tossing the remains of her Bug’s Brew at Sheyric simply to burst the oppressive bubble forming around them. Bren burst it for her.

The guild door swung open, banging on the wall as he barged into the room. His eyes locked onto the back of Sheyric’s hood, fire igniting behind his gold irises as he glowered.

Kayara waved him over, an impish grin appearing on her face. “Hey. Come sit down. I’ve got something for you and Sheyric to try.”

She stood up and returned to the refreshment counter, leaving Ayn to squirm under the tension as Bren stomped over, scooted his chair between Kayara’s and Ayn’s, and sat down with enough force to rattle Ayn’s teeth.

“I didn’t expect you to show up,” Bren said, still glaring at Sheyric.

Sheyric didn’t move or make a sound. If Ayn didn’t know better, she’d believe him asleep, or a statue. Perhaps he should have been a stealth class.

Bren’s face darkened. “It’s polite to acknowledge when others are talking to you. I’m beginning to question this old party of yours. How do you get to level thirty without a shred of manners?”

“Bren!”

Ayn clamped her mouth shut as soon as the words escaped. Bren’s words were too harsh, yet who was she to tell him? She wouldn’t be surprised if he’d said similar things about her to others. To her relief, Kayara returned and slammed two more tankards down on the table before Bren responded.

“Two Mana Spits for our magic users,” Kayara said. “Bonus to Focus.”

Bren turned his glower to the drink, then caught himself, taking a deep breath and relaxing his expression. “Thank you, Kayara.”

The tankard’s contents disappeared down his gullet. Ayn watched in fascination as Bren’s face contorted. Clearly, it tasted no better than the drink she’d had, yet the mage finished it without complaint. Sheyric, on the other hand, remained as statue-like as ever.

“Sheyric had a bit of a rough night,” Kayara said once Bren’s grimace had eased back into a glower. “But he’s promised me he’s going to give it his all now.”

Sheyric nodded slightly, his hood bobbing up and down in agreement.

“Sounds familiar,” Bren said. “Didn’t he promise to heal us yesterday? Should I remind everyone how much healing didn’t get done?”

“We lived,” Ayn said. She immediately regretted it as Bre shot her a withering stare.

“Barely, and only after using too many potions. We can barely afford to replenish them with the paltry sum we got yesterday, and I’d feel a lot better going into floor two with a new piece of equipment.”

“We still haven’t turned in our Guild quests,” Kayara said. “We’ll get a decent chunk of coin from those.”

“Fine. It still doesn’t change the fact the healer you two keep defending lied. How do any of us know he isn’t still lying?”

“You don’t,” Kayara said. She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, a glint in her eyes. “But wouldn’t it look bad if you jumped ship on a willing party?”

Bren wheeled on Kayara. “Excuse me?”

“Plus, it would give your rival a leg up. Even if it only took you the cooldown week to get a new party, that’s an entire week head start for him.”

Bren’s face had turned nearly purple as Kayara spoke. “You’ve been spying on me!”

“Hardly. I might not be from around here, but no matter where I am, there’s always people willing to talk to a pretty face. Your little race is quite the talk of the town.”

Ayn frowned. She had no idea what Kayara was talking about. Then again, the townsfolk had watched what they said around her ever since she’d told a group of traveling Crawlers about the market vendors’ tendency to scam money from outsiders.

“My family would find me a party,” Bren said. “One without a blackmailing stranger.”

“Would they, though?” Kayara said. “It seems to me if that was the case, you wouldn’t have bothered showing up on the LFG list.”

Bren went quiet. Ayn could hear his breath as he forced it to slow. Kayara kept her eyes locked on his, a thin, cocky smile stuck on her face.

Bren turned to Ayn. A chill ran through her. Kayara’s words had clearly struck a nerve, and she had no idea how to diffuse the situation.

“You’re the leader,” Bren said through clenched teeth. “What are you going to do to cover my losses if we can’t clear the next floor?”

“Huh?” Ayn’s mind ran in circles. She’d never considered the outcome of a Crawl beyond living or dying.

“I have no intention of Rebirthing any time soon. If one of us dies on floor two, and I’ll do my best to guarantee it’s not me, I’m leaving, and that’s it. I….” He shot Kayara a glare. “I don’t want that to happen, and I’d say neither do you, Ayn. Since I can’t rely on these two strangers to keep the party from falling apart, I need something from you. A deal for my trouble and a bit of incentive for you.”

The chill hadn’t left. Ayn had heard of the ruthlessness of the wealthy Crafting Guilds. It seemed the rumors were true.

“What kind of deal?” Ayn asked.

“You’re the town’s wildcard. You’ve always done what you want on sheer impulse. So, if we can’t clear floor two, I want you to work for me, and I get to decide your wages.”

“I don’t know anything about crafting.”

“Which is why your job will be in inventory. Counting supplies. Taking in and filling orders. I’ve heard our storehouses are so full, there’s barely room to walk.”

It was Ayn’s turn to glare. Bren knew her better than she expected. The thought of living her life trapped inside a building made her want to claw her eyes out, but she needed Bren to stay. If things didn’t work out, she could simply make sure she didn’t leave the Dungeon alive. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Fine.”