Dungeons Are Bad Business

A divot – no, more of a gaping chasm, if his senses were to be believed – in the road snapped Vee back to consciousness and as he rubbed the itchiness of sleep out of his eyes, he stared out the carriage window.

More fields. Rows upon rows of spiky green and purple grass that he didn’t recognize, and not a mountain, tree, or river in sight. Vee sighed. So much for an exhilarating series of vistas that will leave your heart aflutter, as the carriage company had advertised. Heck, he’d long since given up on anything remotely resembling a vista. At this point he’d be thrilled to see a largeish hill, so long as it broke up the monotony of the farmland. As he wiped the bits of dried spittle away from the side of his mouth, he wondered how much longer the trip would last.

He clutched his stomach. It felt like he was going to be sick. He hated carriages, and cursed their inventor as the pitted road sent him bouncing up and down like the bucking bronco he’d seen at the county fair as a boy.

There was really nothing out here at all. When he’d seen the posters at the last rest stop that joked: “End of the world: 90 miles, Oar’s Crest 100 miles” he’d laughed, but now he was starting to think that maybe they’d been more serious than he’d given them credit for. When had that been? Yesterday? Maybe the day before? No, it had to be yesterday. His head felt screwy courtesy of the nausea, but he was pretty sure that he hadn’t slept for an entire day.

The sun was fat on the horizon, and the sky was draped in the rich orange and yellow hues of late evening. If Vee’s count of what day it was ended up being right, he’d have to endure another full day or so before they made it to Oar’s Crest. He didn’t relish the thought.

Technically, there were other forms of transportation that were both faster and more comfortable than the carriage, but they were all powered by magic. Magic meant money, and that was the one thing Vee really didn't have much of just then. That was most of the problem, actually.

His best friend, Alforde, was still asleep next to him. The armorsoul – a hulking animated suit of armor – didn’t seem bothered in the slightest by the way that the carriage jostled up and down. Still, despite how heavy of a sleeper Alforde was, he snapped awake as soon as Vee tapped his pauldron. A pair of yellow eyes appeared in the shadows of his otherwise empty helmet, which swiveled towards Vee. Vee shook his head. Even after all these years as friends, the way Alforde moved sometimes was still unsettling as heck.

“What is it, Vee? Have we arrived?”

“Not yet, buddy, but I was wondering if I could get my medicine bag out? My stomach feels like a pretzel being twisted into knots.”

Alforde nodded – or rather, his helmet slid forward a few inches and then back into its original position – and opened the door in his chest plate to reveal their shared inventory. Since he was a ghost of sorts and had no real body to speak of, the entire interior of his armor was basically free real estate, and so that’s where Vee kept almost all of his travel supplies.

It was maybe a little weird to root around inside of your best friend’s chest trying to reach a small bag somewhere between the stomach and hips, but if any of the other passengers had opinions on the matter, they were thankfully pretty quiet about it. Vee wasn’t much in the mood to deal with the judgement of strangers just then.

He found the braided strap that he recognized as belonging to his medicine bag and carefully finagled it up to the open space. It was an old blue bag, worn and tattered from many years of use, but it worked fine and Vee put it on his lap to better rifle through it.

It was filled with vials and bottles, potions and elixirs. There were also small packets of powders and a few tubes of capsules. Most of these were the tools of Vee’s trade, but there were also medicines and curatives, and it was one of these that he reached for.

He uncorked the small flask filled with blue liquid and swigged down about a quarter of it, grimacing at the taste. Why did medicines always have to taste so awful? Would it kill one of the enchanters or alchemists to add a decent flavoring once in a while? Maybe strawberries or blueberries or something? Surely the extra few fleurs it’d cost to do so wouldn’t matter much in the grand scheme of things, right?

Shuddering as he swallowed, Vee tossed the flask back into the bag and then chucked it back into his friend’s chest and closed his eyes while he waited for the magic’s…magic…to work.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long, and when Vee opened his eyes once again a few minutes later he was feeling better. Alas, there was no magic to make time move faster or improve the view, but he didn’t feel as if he was going to soon get reacquainted with lunch anymore and that was good enough for now.

Alforde had his hefty gauntlets folded on his lap. His helmet was turned slightly to the side and his eyes were fixed on the horizon.

Vee pushed a strand of blue hair out of his eyes and then leaned back against the chair with his hands behind his head.

The familiar sensation of a status update touched his mind.

[You have unlocked the Weary Traveler class! Would you like to take it?]

Weary Traveler? That didn’t sound good at all. What sort of skills would such a class even earn? [Saddle sore]? [Strong Bladder]? No, [Weary Traveler] was not going to become his secondary class any time soon. Or ever, really. Classes were like anything else: there were good ones and bad ones, and it was important to know the difference. That was why despite the fact that he was constantly assailed with opportunities to pick up random crap as his secondary class, he always resisted.

While there wasn’t any sort of hard rule that prevented someone from collecting as many classes as they wanted to, most people only picked up a few. Famously, there was a lunatic who, cursed to perpetual adolescence, had been wandering the world for more than twenty years trying to get them all. As a boy, Vee had almost religiously followed the exploits of the wanderer and his ever-changing roster of companions, but after the first two-hundred and fifty classes or so he’d stopped caring. He couldn’t even remember the guy’s name anymore.

He’d never had any such aspirations of his own. While most graduates of the Academy had at least three classes, Vee didn’t even have a secondary class. He was content to be nothing more than a [Ghost Maestro]. Conversing with souls and spirits and helping to shape them into productive forms was fulfilling work, but unfortunately, it wasn’t particularly well-paying. After graduating, he’d wafted from one job to another like a plume of smoke, and ultimately had run through his father’s patience as none stuck and his savings account dwindled away to nothing.

Ultimately, he'd sort of given up on finding a good job. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to do anything, it was that he didn’t know what he wanted to do and as soon as he started one thing he’d get distracted by the shiny appeal of something else. One idea gave way to another, one job promised a foothold into the door of the next, and Vee bounced between them all with ever-increasing cynicism.

That aimlessness was why he was on this stupid carriage. About a week ago, he’d been kicked out of his family's estate and given no more than enough fleurs to book the cheapest cross-country carriage ride offered at the station and a stern “Make your own way, son” directive from his dad.

It could have been worse. He could have been forced to go by himself, but as soon as he’d told Alforde about the situation in an attempt to say goodbye the armorsoul had dropped the load of stones he’d been carrying as part of his construction job, told his boss that he quit and declared that he was going wherever Vee went.

That had been great, and the first few days of traveling together had been fun in their own way, but Vee had to think about the future. Namely, what his own was supposed to be.

Indeed, he felt a nice little brood coming on when the carriage jerked to a halt and he almost face-planted the seat in front of his own.

“What the heck was that?” he said as he stood up. The other passengers on the carriage – a pair of salamander grandparents, their granddaughter and a haughty looking kitrekin who’d been cleaning her face, fuzzy ears, and paws almost constantly for the entire trip – all shrugged. They didn’t know what it was either.

“Maybe it’s bandits,” Alforde said as he stood up behind Vee. “I’ve read all these news stories about bandits attacking carriages! They’re great! Swords, magic, murder! The works! Oh, how exciting!”

Vee glared at him. “Those aren’t news stories, you goon. Those are the penny dreadfuls. Besides, why would bandits be out here? Do you think that there’s an especially valuable crop of corn coming in that they want to get their hands on? There’s nothing out here for them to steal! It's not like we have any money.”

“But that’s what makes it such a great plan though,” Alforde insisted. “No one would expect there to be bandits out here, so they have the element of surprise!”

Vee shook his head. “That's not how it works. Don’t be dumb. I’m sure we just hit a nasty pothole or some other mundane thing. I’m going to go out and see what the problem is.”

“Wait,” said Alforde as he threw open the door on his chest once again. His right arm detached from his shoulder, leaving nothing but a tether of gray-blue smoke keeping them connected. The arm floated inside the cavity and rooted around for a moment, and then drew out Vee’s collapsible walking stick. “You should take this with you! Just in case there really are bandits.”

Vee groaned, but he took the walking stick all the same. It was heavy and would work as a nice club if push came to shove. There was no harm in being prepared, after all.

“I’ll come with you too,” Alforde said as he reattached his arm. “Don’t worry, everyone! I’m good in a fight! I’ll protect the carriage from the bandits.”

Vee looked at the other passengers, and saw that the little salamander was staring up at them with eyes as wide as a full moon. She was trembling and looked terrified. Vee smacked Alforde’s side.

“Stop talking about bandits,” Vee hissed. “Look how bad you scared that little salamander?”

Alforde looked thoroughly chastised. Well, as thoroughly chastised as an almost seven-foot tall suit of armor with glowing yellow eyes can look.

Turning towards the little salamander, Vee put on his best smile. It was the same one he’d put every day while working for the city back home as a mail carrier. He thought it was pretty good, as far as smiles went. “Don’t you worry about a thing,” Vee said. “There aren’t any bandits. I’m sure that we’ve just stopped for a moment, but I’m going to talk to the driver and see if she needs any help getting us going. There’s no need to be afraid, all right?”

The little salamander still looked scared, but she nodded, and her grandfather put a scaly hand on her shoulders and gave her a comforting squeeze. He met Vee’s eyes and gave him a solemn nod. “Thank’ee much, mister. My granddaughter just has a vivid imagination, and all that talk of bandits got her scared.”

“So does my friend,” Vee said with a laugh. “He’s always reading those adventure books and thinks that he’s going to end up in one any day now.”

That got a chuckle from everyone in the room, except for Alforde.

“It never hurts to be prepared!” The armorsoul insisted. “What if there really are bandits?!”

“There aren’t. I promise.” Vee said as he pushed open the carriage door and bounced down the two steps to the ground. The earth was muddy and damp, but Vee didn’t immediately see any ruts or fallen trees in the road that would have been cause for the carriage to stop.

Instead, he saw the thin blade of a sword pointed at his throat.

Alforde, who’d jumped down next to him, pointed at the blade and the hulking, scarred man holding it. “See? I told you! Bandits!”

Inside the carriage, the little salamander screamed.

[You have unlocked the Confidently Incorrect Know-It-All Class. Would you like to accept?]

Vee fought back the urge to swear and dismissed the notification.

Vee and Alforde’s Stat Sheets:

Vee Vales:

Primary Class: Ghost Maestro (Locksmagister University), Level 13

Secondary Class: None

Might: 6

Wit: 18

Faith: 10

Alforde Armorsoul:

Primary Class: Clunker (Vee Vales), Level 9

Secondary Class: Right-hand man (Vee Vales), level 7

Might: 12

Wit: 10

Faith: 20