Take Stock

Wynnie hopped down from on top of the crate. That made sense now, given her next question had been to worry about supplies - Wouldn’t the tank need a weapon? Or armor? And the rogue would need picks… She’d need spell components, maybe a staff… Though she wasn’t good at that way of casting yet. Or what about the idea of just showing up and running a dungeon first thing? They couldn’t be about to do that, could they?

The rogue - who hadn’t bothered to introduce himself - made quick work of popping the top off the crate. Wynnie and the tank girl leaned in after. Dust from the straw used to cushion the crate’s contents rose to greet them. The tank girl reeled away from the crate as she sneezed, three times, so loudly that Wynnie jumped and her tail stuck out stiff.

The torch the girl had been holding went out with the last sneeze. After recovering from her startle, Wynnie quickly gathered up the receding smoke and directed it towards the lantern she had brought down from on top of the crate. The latent energy and her own magic lit it in an instant.

“Sorry.” The tank girl recovered and returned to Wynnie’s side. “I’m Yara by the way.”

“Wynnie.” She repeated with a smile. Just in case. It felt like the thing to do. Then looked expectantly at the rogue.

He rummaged through the straw, head down, as if he were actually looking for something specific.

“That’s Emmeran.” Yara explained while she took hold of a leather wrapped handle sticking out from the box’s stuffing. “I think he’s just like that.”

Yara pulled the weapon from the crate. It wasn’t a sword, which had been Wynnie’s first thought. There was also the scalloped top of a shield peaking up through the straw, it would have made sense. But instead, the long handle just got longer, until the rounded cube of a maul emerged. Yara laid the upper end of the handle in her other palm as she considered the weapon.

“No sword?” She didn’t just sound mildly surprised like Wynnie, she was downright disappointed.

“No sharp edges.” The janitor - was this club seriously about to be run by a janitor? Wynnie was the last person to judge in these kinds of situations, but… what did he really know about clearing a dungeon competitively? Any more than any of them might? - Cutton, answered. “It’s a liability thing.”

“No, it isn’t.” Emmeran perked up from his search to argue. When he stood up straight again, he had a belt with a series of leather pouches attached to it and a separate leather folio. “The regulation says-”

“It’s a liability thing. Trust me.”

“Yeah, about that…” Wynnie hesitated to start after that reaction, but things needed to be discussed. There were details to hammer out. “Aren’t there like, forms we should be filling out? And I don’t know, some kind of dungeon 101?”

“There are easier ways to meet phys ed requirements, you know? That line on the flier was just a line.”

Wynnie frowned and crossed her arms. If he was going to be like that, maybe she preferred a hands off approach after all. “This isn’t a legitimate club, is it?”

“Not until we prove it.” Emmeran answered for him. Or maybe he meant to ask. Wynnie wasn’t sure how he would know any more than she did.

Cutton inclined his head towards Emmeran and shrugged, as if to say ‘there you go’.

“And how are we going to do that?” Wynnie felt the frown on her face harden. She didn’t mean to be a downer here, but there had to be some rules, maybe some guidelines… A plan, at the very least.

“This used to be the university’s training dungeon. What’d you think I was going to throw you in a real dungeon first thing?”

“Kind of.” Yara said.

Which Wynnie felt allowed her to say, “Yes.”

Cutton sighed. “This one doesn’t even have a core anymore. Nobody maintained it after… You know. The worst you three are going to run into - which by the way, consider finding a fourth - is some slimes. It’s going to be a lot of rats, bats, and still armed traps.”

Well… Some of that was better than Wynnie had been thinking. Although she had absolutely no idea why the school had stopped maintaining the dungeon core. Did that mean it was dangerous?

“You get the dungeon cleaned up, we find the core, we convince the university to use it again.” Cutton concluded with a clap of his hands. Simple as that.

“What if we can’t?” Wynnie asked. Again not meaning to be a bummer, but… someone had to.

Cutton sighed again. “Innate magic?”

“Yes.” Wynnie answered, drawing out the word in uncertainty. She had a feeling she knew where this was going, but…

“Elemental?”

Wynnie sighed. “Yes.”

“Fire?”

There it was. But Myron had teased that might be a good thing in this situation…

“Yes.”

“I think you’re going to do just fine.” She still hated the way his smile gained a self satisfied squint.

“You want us to start now?” Yara asked. While Wynnie had been interrogated, the other girl had pulled the armor from the crate. At least, she’d found a pair of bracers and a set of greaves she hadn’t quite figured out how to slip over her thick boots.

“That’s the spirit!” They keys at his side jingled again as the janitor walked further into the chamber, around the crate, and into the dark of the far back wall. “Grab your staff, mage.”

Wynnie ground her teeth. There were too many assumptions being made about her and the whole idea of this supposed club. She looked between Yara and Emmeran as if to ask if they were really doing this too. Or, that’s what she’d wanted to do, but Emmeran had already slunk off into the dark. Darn stereotypes were working in Cutton’s favor with that one.

“Come on,” Yara gestured with the hand holding the maul and one of the greaves. “I think I’m just invested in what their deals are, at this point.”

That made Wynnie chuckle. It wasn’t the worst reason to see this out, at least for the day.