The Survivor Becomes a Dungeon

Vitmori POV

To say that the inn was nice felt like an understatement, or maybe it was just that I was so used to such low standards of living after decades of living through an apocalypse that I had forgotten what decent living was like. Even the sleeping areas I made for the people back at the Haven feel spartan when compared to the room of the inn I found myself staying at. I really should spend some time putting together a good collection of quality bedding, blankets, and pillows to improve day-to-day living.

The room was simple in regards to the layout; a single bed, a dresser, and a single suspended lamp. The lamp had a simple looking crystal, instead of something like a candle, that would illuminate the room with a tap of a button on the wall by the door. The room was on the third floor and had an actual glass window that could be opened and closed, accompanied by a set of olive green curtains. The mattress itself was a relatively thin thing stuffed with wool or perhaps some kind of cotton and was then covered with clean gray sheets.

It's a shame that I can't enjoy the experience of actually lying in bed, while I can tell it's soft, there's just an odd disconnect where I can't feel the comfort or relief of getting off my feet and laying on my back. Though the cubs seemed to enjoy the bed, Basmori and Freyli kneading their claws into the mattress while they audibly rumbled with delighted purring, the skins and furs they used to sleep on must seem like hard floors in comparison. Even Legosi looked rather comfortable as he lay on the bed behind them, sleeping soundly after the day of running he had gone through, the cubs for their part were resting near his belly on what free space remained on the mattress itself.

The day was close to ending as far as I could tell, with the sun nearing the horizon; yet the streets were still active with people going this way and that. I figured now that I'm on my own, I might as well try to get some of my personal shopping done before most of the stores actually close for the day. Leaving Legosi, Basmori, and Freyli in my room, I made my way downstairs and came into a fairly busy dining area/lounge room where a number of people ate and conversed.

There was an eclectic variety of individuals in the room with a number of various races being represented here. Colorful adventurers drinking loudly at the bar, caravan guards eagerly eating in groups clustered around large round tables, and a few hooded figures seemingly brooding in some odd corner, keeping to themselves as they quietly sipped at a drink or ate.

Honestly, the fact that I may be the strangest one here simply due to the fact that I'm a fancy wooden man who is actually a dungeon core from another world is an odd feeling to come to terms with.

As I pulled up my hood and made my way to leave the inn, I was actually stopped by the Innkeeper's son, a strapping young man who was some kind of half-orc with tan skin. I couldn't remember his name, though he remembered mine as he flashed a toothy grin. "Mister Vito, will you be having dinner with us tonight?"

I flashed a small smile as I looked down at him from under my hood. "Not tonight, no... I don't need to eat much after all." I mused while slightly patting my stomach. "Though if you could bring some meat up to my room, I'm sure my familiars would be happy to enjoy the treat." It's not like they needed to eat often either, but Legosi worked hard today and the cubs should still eat plenty to grow big and strong. "They're docile and very well-behaved, so don't worry about bothering them." I quickly added as reassuringly as I could manage.

I could sense him feeling vaguely nervous as he recalled seeing Legosi, but he just bobbed his head and gave me a thumbs-up. "Understood, I'll see what I can put together." He enthused before stepping away and tending to some other guests.

Now that I'm free, I made my way out and just started walking. First things first, I need to look more like a regular person, so what that means is that I need to get some boots and gloves. Up till now, I've somehow managed to avoid outright touching anyone or being directly touched and nobody has really commented on how my footsteps sound like the clacking of wood on stone rather than the thumps of meat on stone or wood; though that might be thanks to how lightly I walk anyways. That would not last forever, so the sooner I have those things, the sooner I can better blend in.

Taking a mental inventory of things, I had spent four silver on room and board for two nights at the inn. It was a nice room and this looked like a nice part of town, even with the apparent discount I was likely staying at a place that had hotel rates rather than motel ones. At the moment, I was left with a total of seven silver pieces and twelve copper pieces, which didn't sound like a lot when I considered just how much I gave out to the Sinners and Basti to make sure their potential expenses were covered.

Thinking of the conversion rate for the currency of this continent, thirty copper equaled one silver, and fifteen silver equaled one gold. There are apparently bigger coins but I don't plan on handling them anytime soon... As for the coins themselves, copper pieces were no bigger than pennies but they were strangely complex for something that looked stamped in mass production. Then again, they might just have some magic or advanced minting processes that help with that. The silver pieces themselves were around the size of nickels and the gold pieces look close to quarters to me. The coins also weren't straight-up copper, silver, or gold but a thin blend of metals specifically minted into the various coin types which reminded me of the way we did things back home, this likely aided in preventing people from melting the coins down and helped against counterfeiting.

I visited a cobbler first and picked out a pair of readymade brown boots that were close to my size, it was made with some kind of leather laces which were used to adjust them to better fit around my calves so they wouldn't slide off. I was moderately surprised to find that they offered a wide selection of socks that looked rather nicely made, but I didn't bother since it's not like I particularly needed them for comfort or health reasons. The boots were eighteen copper pieces, so I ended up breaking a silver before moving on.

From there I found my way into a store that specializes in traveling equipment, after having visited three different general stores for a pair of good gloves. While I was vaguely surprised to find a specialized store like this, it was set up next to an armory that catered to mercenaries and adventurers, so it was likely geared towards servicing their needs which is probably why all the good gloves were here.

While I initially came for just the gloves, all the other equipment just kept catching my eyes and I ended up shopping around some more to help supplement my look. For a grand total of four silver pieces and seventeen copper pieces, I ended up buying myself a pair of black leather gloves that went halfway up my forearm, a brown satchel that I slung over my shoulder so it sat on my hip like a messenger bag, a canvas tent with blankets as well as a fifty-foot bundle of rope and a pair of knives in case I needed to field dress anything. Lastly, I managed to set myself up with a leather belt that had a loop of leather that hung off my right hip which allowed me to openly wear the falchion that Trisha made for me. I say openly, but I'm still concealing it with my cloak, but at the very least I don't look unarmed or underdressed anymore.

By the time I was finished with my shopping, the sun was halfway down the horizon; filling the sky with an array of purple and orange hues. Now that I've spent money, I figured it was time to make some money. While I did spy a couple of pawnshops here and there where I could possibly sell some of the junk armor I still had lying around in my storage from the bandits all those weeks ago, I needed more money if I wanted to do even half the things I promised I would do for the Haven.

Thankfully, I still had a ton of unprocessed ores that I could possibly sell to the Miner's Guild around here. The only problem with that is that apparently the branch that deals with the miners is outside of the walls, but the main office is in the inner city where I'm at. Maybe if I go into the main office while still pretending to be an incognito powerful mage, I could get them to deal with me directly instead of having to go out past the gates and risk being hassled if I want to come back in for the night.

Miner's Guild Guildmaster/ Guildmaster Tilzim POV

The dwarven man sighed with frustration, looking at various reports and orders that were gradually starting to get backed up due to current circumstances. While most metal refinement and production went through unimpeded, they've been sorely lacking when it comes to meeting quotas for the wolfram orders ever since their Crucible Master fell ill. He was one of the only ones who could manage the intense flames needed to refine wolfram in bulk to keep up with the demand for the metal in question.

His assistants do well enough to keep things running without him, but they can only refine so much before their weaker manahearts and mana rings get strained. Perhaps it is true that the guild relied too much on one man, and they'll certainly need to restructure, recruit, and train more guild members to harness fire magic as soon as possible if they don't want this to happen again in the future.

That is... If the Crucible Master ever recovers, which is looking doubtful with each passing day...

Reaching for a bottle of something strong he had in a desk drawer, he's vaguely startled by a knock at the door to his office. Committing to grabbing the bottle, he also grabbed an iron cup and began to pour himself some barrel-aged bourbon. "Enter."

In the next moment, he heard the latch turn as one of the receptionists stepped in. It was a squirrelkin woman whose name was escaping him at the moment. "Excuse me Guildmaster, sorry to trouble you, but we have an odd client who is wishing to sell a lot of ore. He's not a miner and claims that the ore doesn't come from the local mines... Due to how suspicious he is, I figured you ought to know." She explained, looking rather uncertain as her tail flicked anxiously behind her.

Tilzim just sighed tiredly, glancing at the window as he noted the sun's fading light on the horizon, taking a drink from his cup before gently setting it down. "He also came before we closed, while we had the least amount of traffic... Obviously, we have some sort of amateur ore scalper who likely came from a nearby territory... Could you do me a favor and start looking into reports from other guilds and see if there's a warrant out on this guy? In the meantime, take him to one of the waiting rooms and I'll see if I can't lure him into a trap and get the guards to seize his cart."

At that, the receptionist looked clearly relieved and bobbed her head eagerly. "You got it!" She enthused before closing the door behind her and hurrying off.

In the next ten minutes, Tilzim made his way to the waiting room, bottle in hand as he took a swig from it before letting himself inside. He didn't really have it in him to be especially courteous and professional for a criminal, and if the suspicious guy really was a scalper, he'd likely be willing to put up with most things in order to make the sale.

Looking around, he spotted a cloaked human man in his late thirties with a rather impressive air about him. His clothes didn't look like anything special though they looked rather well made, yet he carried himself with an air of confidence Tilzim wasn't expecting from an amateur scalper.

As Tilzim stepped into the room, the man turned to look as he regarded him with vibrant green eyes, for a second, Tilzim felt as if his very soul was being measured before the feeling faded as quickly as it went. For a second he wondered if he was just being overly sensitive or on edge as he brushed the feeling aside. "Sorry about the wait, you caught me at a bad time." He expressed with faux sincerity. In reality, he was just in no rush for this meeting as he sat on one of the couches in the meeting room, gesturing for the man to sit across from him on the opposing couch.

The man just flashed a smile as he moved to take a seat, brushing his cloak back and settling in comfortably. Though Telzin noted the empty loop that hung off the man's right hip, vaguely surprised that the man would seemingly come to this meeting unarmed considering the circumstances. "It's no problem Guildmaster, it's my fault for coming in without an appointment, though I'm grateful you are seeing me despite the circumstances."

Tilzim just mentally facepalms, of course, he could have just had the guy wait until tomorrow... Then again he might have tried to sell the ore elsewhere if he had trouble getting rid of it. He took another swig from the bottle before just smiling a bit as he shrugged. "What can I say, you caught me in a generous mood... Despite the circumstances." He parroted, setting the bottle down on the table between them before leaning back against the couch. "So how much ore are you trying to offload, and what kinds?" He asked bluntly now, making it easier for the human to make the deal without dancing around the topic too much.

The man reached into his cloak, and despite it being bunched up over his shoulder, he pulled out a hefty chunk of cleaned iron ore that couldn't have possibly been in the cloak a moment ago. It was as the man set the iron ore down on the table that Telzin realized he may not be dealing with an amateur at all. "Well, I know from the receptionist that you're buying iron ore at four copper a pound... But I need more than that." He said simply before leaning back in his seat.

Tilzim couldn't help but feel a shudder traveling down his spine, his hand clenching his bottle as he realized that he was the one who was trapped here. He may have a decent manaheart and be a capable fighter, but he's definitely not armed and likely wouldn't be able to outrun this guy if something happened. He took a swig of the bourbon before narrowing his gaze at the human across from him. "And? How much do you want?"

The man flashed a small smile as he gestured at the iron ore between them. "Give me nine copper per pound, and I'll refine it all for you. No waste, minimal impurities." He offered as he seemed to relax even more.

Tilzim opened his mouth to call the man a crook, a cheat, and yet... That actually sounded reasonable. Not even that bad of an offer if the human handled all the labor and could actually guarantee that sort of quality. In fact, he was now having a hard time finding something to disagree with, beyond the fact that these ores were likely all stolen from somewhere.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" The man asked almost teasingly as he smirked with amusement. "Or is it the fact that you think I've stolen all these ores or something?" At that, Tilzim tensed again as he eyed the man warily again, but before he could say anything, the man continued. "Oh come on now, it was obvious... As soon as I mentioned just how much ore I was planning on selling, that receptionist got all squirrely." The man then shrugged a bit. "You won't find any records for this ore though, it's from my own private mine." He explained rather nonchalantly. "I haven't needed money in the last decade or so, but now that I'm traveling again, I need a little spending power... You can help me with that, right?"

Tilzim was starting to get more and more of a feeling that this guy probably wasn't just some scalper. Doing his best to remain calm he took another swig of bourbon before sitting up and looking the human over more intently. “How much ore are you trying to sell?”

The human looked thoughtful before just shrugging a bit. “Well… I initially only planned on selling fifty pounds, you know, to keep things relatively tame. But… I think I’ll sell a hundred pounds, do you think you can handle that much?”

Well of course he could, they process close to that on a regular basis… Though a hundred pounds of already refined iron? “How long until you’ll have the iron ready?”

The human hummed for a moment before smiling. “Show me a standard ingot and I’ll see what I can do.”

Something about that smile unnerved Tilzim, and if he didn’t realize that the human wasn’t in a good mood before now, he was definitely sure he was pretty pissed about being treated like some kind of criminal. “I… I see… Give me a moment.” He said quietly as he stood, making his way to the doors of the waiting room, only to be greeted by a squad of guardsmen being led by the squirrelkin receptionist who was looking rather worried.

“Guildmaster, I couldn’t find anything on the reported scalpers, but I got the guards here already to take care of him.” She explained as her fluffy tail wiggled frantically.

The guardsmen looked at the Guildmaster expectantly, they weren’t here for a fight, just to arrest some thieving scalper… But that was not the situation anymore, not by a long shot as he stared wide eyed and choked on his response at first. Glancing back in the room at the human, he seemed as calm as could be despite the amount of manpower gathered here. He finally cleared his throat a bit and looked up to the guards. “Thank you all for making the trip, but this has all been a big misunderstanding. Mister… Mister…” Tilzim started to say, realizing he hadn’t even gotten the human’s name before now as he glanced behind him again.

The human just smiled a bit as he leaned forward on the seat, resting his elbows on his knees. “Jon Smythe.” He said simply.

“R-right… Mister Smythe is a legitimate businessman, there’s no trouble here.” He expressed to the guards before he then looked over to the squirrelkin receptionist and cleared his throat a little more. “C-could you fetch Mister Smythe an iron ingot? He would like to have an example of the processed material…”

The guards did look a little confused for their part, but they weren’t about to argue with an influential man like the Miner’s Guild Guildmaster. If he said things were alright, then they were alright. In short order, they filed out and left the guildhall while the squirrelkin woman rushed off to do as asked.

As Tilzim looked back at ‘Mister Smythe’, he offered a rather sheepish smile as he ran his fingers through his beard in an attempt to help calm himself. “S-sorry about her… She tends to get excited over the littlest of things. I truly hope you found no offense…”

The human merely shrugged again as he smiled, leaning back into his seat. “It’s fine… I know I’m an odd one, that’s for sure… That reminds me… I remember a group of teens calling me a traveling eccentric… I suppose that is a rather fitting descriptor.”

And there it was, the answer to the growing feeling of unease that the bourbon wasn’t settling… An eccentric? In his guild? It’s only by the grace of the gods that he hasn’t crossed whatever line this man has drawn in the sand. Swallowing to himself, he set the bottle of bourbon down and approached a cabinet as he procured a bottle with a liquid as black as shadow before glancing over to ‘Mister Smythe.’ “S-sir… Would you perhaps enjoy a drink with me, while we wait?” He offered out of genuine sincerity as he grabbed two crystal glasses and uncorked the bottle. “It’s everblack, a rather potent brew…” He explained with a dejected little shrug. This was the only thing that could possibly help him keep his nerves now.

The human smiled a little more, starting to shake his head before looking thoughtful. “You know what… Sure. Make mine a triple.”

Tilzim tensed again, though more out of shock than anything as he just finished pouring himself a double that he intended on nursing. Though he wasn’t about to argue with an eccentric as he poured the man a triple and brought over the glasses, setting one down in front of the man on the table before taking his own place back on the couch.

The human eyed the drink curiously before licking his lips a little, taking up the crystal glass and swirling its contents. Though in the next moment he downed the whole thing, tilting his head all the way back as he emptied the glass before setting it back down. He hummed seemingly in delight before sighing heavily as a small spout of flame spewed from his mouth. This seemed to amuse him even more as he chuckled to himself.

Tilzim now couldn’t help but wonder if ‘Mister Smythe’ is even a human at all, nursing the black brew as he sighed a little more.

After a long few minutes, the receptionist finally returned with the ingot in hand much to Tilzim’s relief as she held it out to him. Though at that, he merely shook his head and silently gestured for her to give it to ‘Mister Smythe.’ Which she did, rather cheerfully in fact as she apparently took Tilzim’s reassurances that ‘Mister Smythe’ was actually a businessman.

“Thank you.” The human mentioned fairly cheerfully as he took up the ingot and looked it over, twirling it around in his hand when it suddenly disappeared into thin air. Tilzim couldn’t quite believe his eyes, and wasn’t sure if it was sleight of hand or magic, but then he didn’t even see a spell being cast. The human then reached out to the squirrelkin receptionist before seemingly pulling the ingot out from behind her ear as he chuckled a little more. “Thank you for your help, sorry for scaring you earlier…” He offered rather sincerely.

The receptionist for her part looked clearly amazed as she kept looking between Tilzim and the ingot of iron rather before looking at ‘Mister Smythe’ and flashing a warm smile. “It’s okay Mister Smythe, I apologize for thinking you were a criminal.” She said rather bluntly, lowering her head a little before looking back to Tilzim again. “If you’ll excuse me Guildmaster, I must get back to my closing duties.” With that, she made her way out of the meeting room, excitedly waving her goodbyes to ‘Mister Smythe’ before stepping out of sight.

Before Tilzim could ask ‘Mister Smythe’ how long it’ll take for the ingots to be ready again, the human stood and pulled the coffee table away from between them. He then took a knee before holding out his hand and closing his eyes.

Tilzim watched on curiously, and as he took the time to try and find the words to ask what was happening; he suddenly realized that ingot after ingot of iron was suddenly appearing out of thin air, being neatly stacked up in a sort of pyramid until all one hundred pounds of iron was standing between them. Once again Tilzim was lost for words as he opened and closed his mouth a few times, setting his glass of everblack to the side before reaching out to touch the ingots themselves. “By the gods… They’re still warm…” He looked between the metal ingots and ‘Mister Smythe', a brilliant little idea forming in his mind as he finally flashed the first confident smile he could muster this whole conversation. “Are you available for hire?”