Dungeons and Dalliances

6.16 – The [Lumberjack]

If Gareth wanted an honest appraisal of how idiotic his heading to the dungeon with a non-combat class was, Natalie would give it to him. It might be the only thing that stopped him from getting killed.

Though she doubted she would be able to change his mind. She recognized that stubbornness. The determination to pursue a dream regardless of the danger. Almost all academy-trained delvers had a similar attitude.

But maybe, by beating him around the sparring grounds, she could disabuse him slightly of the notion. Or at least inject a modicum of caution. Sometimes people got cocky and needed a reminder of their relative weakness.

The Kraken's Hearth was located on the southern outskirts of town, so there was plenty of space in the training yard; they weren't packed in like they might be downtown. Natalie and Gareth took a free spot away from the rest of those who had followed them out of the inn. Their team had intended to test Liz's new strength, but with the miniature crowd they'd gathered, they'd gotten sidetracked. There was no helping that. Liz could handle the tests herself, anyway. Natalie hardly had to be there.

Setting up on the flat dirt arena, Natalie slipped out the appropriate monster core and withdrew her weapon. The massive metal hammer materialized mid-air. Even grown familiar with it, she grunted as its heft settled into her grip.

Gareth's eyes widened as he took in the sight of the weapon. "Woah. You fight with that?"

She raised an eyebrow, resting her hammer on her shoulder, the metal rod digging into her. "Aren't scared of getting beaten around a little, are you?" she asked amusedly.

"Scared?" Gareth asked. He laughed, a hearty, booming noise. "Definitely not. It's what I asked for, right?"

Natalie frowned. Not because it was a bad answer, but rather, because it was a good one. Because much worse than her was waiting for him in the dungeon. But he really did seem to accept the reality of the situation, how terrible his idea was, and yet was carrying on despite the fact. Natalie became doubly certain it would be impossible to persuade him from his decision.

"Though," Gareth said. "Why's it look like that? All … you know. Pink and striped?"

Natalie winced. She lifted the weapon off her shoulder and placed it face-down into the dirt. Running her eyes up and down its length, she again came to terms with [Valentine]'s appearance. A white shaft striped with red bands, two giant pink metal heads with a heart design imprinted on each face. It was definitely one of the more ridiculous weapons Natalie had seen … and was all the more embarrassing when combined with her scandalous armor.

"The dungeon doesn't like me," Natalie said. "It keeps giving me weird stuff." She looked down at herself—into her prominently displayed cleavage. "If you haven't noticed," she said dryly.

Gareth cleared his throat, his cheeks coloring as his attention was drawn, again, to her armor—or lack of it. "I, uh, wouldn't call it unlucky," he offered tentatively. "I think it looks good on you."

"I'm sure you do," Natalie replied amusedly.

His cheeks colored further. "That's a hell of a coincidence, though, isn't it? That you keep getting stuff like that? I thought dungeon gear was random."

"Like I said. Dungeon hates me, and is making a joke out of it. Or something."

"You're talking like it can think," Gareth said. "Some people really believe that, right?"

After recent revelations with Malice? Natalie didn't so much think as she knew the dungeon had a mind, now. She still had to sit down with Malice and learn what she could about the so-called 'Keeper of the Crypt'—and Malice's life in the dungeon in general.

"Some people do," Natalie said. "And I'm one of them. It's alive to some degree, for sure."

"Huh," Gareth said. He seemed briefly like he was going to question her more about that, but he changed his mind. "How much does that thing weigh?" he asked, turning the subject back to Natalie's hammer.

"Not sure."

"Can I try holding it?"

"Uh. Go ahead?"

She tilted the hilt of [Valentine] toward Gareth. Shocking her, he actually managed to pull it from the ground and hold it in his grip. His muscles bulged as he tried to stabilize it. After giving a slow, clumsy test swing in which he went stumbling forward with its momentum, Natalie laughed and walked forward to grab the hammer, saving him from toppling over.

"Architect," Gareth said in admiration. "That thing's a monster. You're stronger than you look."

Natalie raised an eyebrow.

"Not that you don't look strong," Gareth hastily said. "Just, uh, you know."

Natalie's amusement grew. This boy clearly wasn't accustomed to being around delvers—or combat classes in general. Sure, Natalie was hardly some dainty girl with stick arms, but yeah, compared to Gareth's tall stature and wide [Lumberjack]'s build, she was admittedly a fair bit smaller. But stature didn't matter a tenth as much to combat classes as it did to regular folk. It became entirely irrelevant as they leveled: a tiny four-foot woman could easily crumple a seven-foot man up like a paper ball, if one was a high-rank fighter and the other was a low-rank mage.

That said, at level one, his bulk would certainly help. The average man had a definite strength advantage over the average woman at the beginning of their career. She could take some solace in that fact, if he indeed did recklessly head into the dungeon.

"Alright, enough chatting," Natalie said. "Let's see what you can do."

Gareth paused, then warily eyed Natalie's hammer. "You're really gonna use that thing on me, huh?"

"Weren't you the one that wanted me to 'knock some sense into you'?"

"And I'm all for that," Gareth agreed. "But. I prefer all bones being … not broken."

Natalie laughed. "Stop being a chicken. I won't break anything."

"Can you stop yourself, when you're using that thing?"

Despite his hesitance at being on the receiving end of [Valentine], he pulled his axe from his belt. Unlike Natalie, he had no monster cores to carry around his loot. Not that it'd even work with his weapon if he did have one, with his axe being an obviously mundane item.

The smooth wooden haft was a solid four or five feet long, with a large, broad metal head. He gripped it in a familiar manner, settling into a wide stance. Natalie appreciated that he didn't seem totally unaccustomed to combat—she could read some level of skill in the way he stood and watched her carefully.

Natalie gripped her own weapon. "Ready, then?"

"I don't think anyone's ever ready to have their ass handed to them," he replied. "But yeah. As much as I'll ever be."