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  Hyena Werks, A proud Orario Company.

  DanmachiXDnD Nonhuman semi SI

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  Chapter Twelve:

  A Real Gnoll-in-the-Wall Kinda’ Place

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  The fire was dying.

  Down to only the charred remains of a single log, the tiny tongues of flame licked out in a desperate hunt for more sustenance amongst the smoldering ashes littering the fireplace.

  With a sigh, Hephaestus rose from the comfort of her plush velvet chair to throw a few more logs on. With a new fuel source secured, the dying embers ignited once more into a modest blaze, casting a flickering amber glow across the otherwise dark and dreary interior of her personal study. Basking in the glow for a moment, the goddess of volcanoes and blacksmiths could feel the barest wisp of her Divinity echoing in the floating sparks. Separated from her influence by the shell of mortal flesh she so willingly donned all those years ago.

  A loss, to be sure. But one well worth its price.

  Sinking back into her chair, she ran a loving hand along the well-worn, lightly stained fabric of the arm with a smile. Unlike the masterworks of carpentry in her office, the ones that cost more than what most familia’s make in a year and exist just to cow prospective customers into compliance, this one was… shoddily made. The back was lumpy, its cloth was moth-bitten in places, it wobbled precariously if she put her weight on it wrong, and the left arm had a dent in it from thumping down onto it one too many times.

  It was no exotic treasure crafted by a foreign master and shipped to her at a cost that would leave some nations beggard. Yet it was worth more to her than a thousand of those so-called ‘priceless treasures’ currently crowding up a few of her familia’s auxiliary storehouses.

  For unlike all those hunks of over-priced wood and upholstery, this one was made with love. A gift from one of her children for one of the anniversaries of her descent, though after all this time she couldn’t recall exactly which anniversary it was.

  As skilled as he was with hammer and mithril, he unfortunately wouldn’t have known the first thing about carpentry if Lu Ban himself hit him upside the head with a length of framing timber. But he was insistent that she needed a real chair to put in her house, and not some “hoity-toity” nonsense that would “Looked fancy enough’, but was a right pain in the arse to sit on”.

  Now, it was one of her most treasured possessions, along with every other gift given to her by her children over her long, long stay here in Gekai. Gentle reminders and keepsakes from children long dead and buried littered her home. Each one a blessing and a curse- a forced reminder of good times and bad around every corner.

  It was one of those things they don’t mention up in Tenkai when waxing poetically about descending down to the lower world. They all speak of endless romance and adventure- but none of them warned about the endless heartache and loss.

  Another sigh slipped from her lips as she took up her previously abandoned glass of wine and took a liberal swig. Normally, she would have taken the time to savor one of Demeter’s priceless vintages, but tonight she just wanted something to get her buzzed, and she was all out of whiskey.

  She lost.

  Badly.

  To something called Snarf!

  Somewhere deep in her belly- in her core- her Divine Will demanded retribution. How dare that upjumped dog humiliate her in front of the entire city? She should have Tsubaki go fetch her his hide, so she could fashion a nice rug to lay in front of her fireplace. Or, better yet- she could simply discard this faux skin for what it is and smite the creature from on high with her Arcanum.

  Give that beast a taste of true power.

  But no.

  These feelings were merely an echo- a small hint of who she… of what she used to be.

  She hasn’t been that thing in a long time.

  So instead, a small grin graced her lips.

  Isn’t this exactly what she wanted when she first took that plunge and descended to the lower world all those years ago? To see new things with her own eye? To experience new things with a family to call her own? To love and hate, gain and lose- To be challenged?

  That grin grew into a genuine smile as she leaned back into her seat with yet another sigh, though this one was one of contentment.

  And what a challenge it was! A golem like no other- made in a single day! The deed beggared belief, bordering on a Legendary Feat…

  The only golems she knew of still in use today were made by academics in Altena- and those were just used as scientific curiosities for study. Golems have long been established to be entirely useless for any practical application. Too slow to be useful in a fight, they needed constant control as they’re entirely mindless, and worst of all- they’re expensive, very expensive. There were just no extenuating circumstances that would make a big hunk of ponderous metal a worthwhile investment for anyone.

  The amount of money, time, and specialized expertise it would take to get one to an even somewhat acceptable level in any regard was astronomical- Easily reaching into the billions of Valis in material alone.

  Not even that loon, Daedalus, with all his supposed genius could make golems viable.

  They’re jokes.

  Which begs the question- How in the Hel was Max able to make one that shattered the global consensus in a single day!? On a shoestring budget no less!

  Faster than a mid-tier level two, strong enough to crush steel like it was made of tin- It was even able to cast magic of all things! Or at least it did whatever that was that exploded the goblin. But worst, or perhaps most startling of all was the intelligence it displayed.

  Artificial Monster indeed.

  That wasn’t even the real question, because Max was gracious enough to explain it all himself! He just- revealed his secrets right then and there with no regard for keeping the technology for himself…

  No, the only real question was… Did the others see the same thing she saw? Oh, who was she kidding, of course they did. Hephaestus may be the wealthiest god of crafting on Genkai, but best was subjective. There's a small chance that perhaps Goibniu and Hadúr missed it, as they seemed to be focused on other parts of the machine.

  But Ptah?

  There was not a single doubt in her mind that he recognized what we were looking at.

  A way to syphon magic out of the air and condense it to a liquid at a quantity previously unheard of? Industrializing a process that usually takes an alchemist hours of concentration to produce a fraction of a fraction of what that machine was capable of?

  A world changing invention that will have Max’s name carved deep into the history books with a hammer and chisel as an unrivaled genius, and quite possibly the father of a technological renaissance.

  But using that liquid magic to recharge a monster crystal?

  A world shattering one.

  The global economy has revolved around the extraction and consumption of crystals for time immemorial. They heat our homes, power our machines, and are even used as the basis of our very currency. Orario isn’t considered the capital of the world because of the legion of Adventurers that call her their home, no-

  It's because Orario is the only place in the world where one can get full strength monster stones.

  After centuries of being cut off from the source of their power, the monsters littering the surface have resorted to splitting themselves, like cells, to reproduce. With each successive generation being far weaker than the last as the power in their crystal is divided amongst the clones.

  Harpies, for instance, are normally deep Dungeon monsters that inhabit the Lower Floors. A single one could spell doom to an entire party of level twos. But on the surface? A mundane farmer with a stiff upper-lip and a rusty hoe could scare off a small flock of the bothersome creatures. Accordingly, the power contained within their crystal is directly proportional to the strength they had in life. If a Dungeon harvested harpy crystal could keep a Desert Ship operational for a decade, then a surface one would barely function for a year.

  Scholars the world over have prophesied that in less than five-hundred years the monsters on the surface will have finally expended all their energy, and will die out for good.

  Which will then leave Orario as the only place in the world, beside the mysterious Dragon Valley, to get more monster crystals. The growing energy crisis was something that was whispered about behind closed doors the world over, nations and city-states alike desperately trying to find a new source of magical power before they all become entirely dependent on Orario and her exports.

  Global domination, without even leaving our home.

  With each passing day the Guild grows in strength. They have calculated the optimal price for every Dungeon produced good down to the last valis based upon extraction and consumption rates; Maximizing profit for the company and her client adventures at the expense of the peoples of the world. As the power of the crystals found beyond the Dungeon wanes, the Guild’s only grows. Like smoke drifting through cracks, the Guild has dug their fingers deeper and deeper into the foundations of Orario’s familias. Whittling away at their political and economic power and sneaking away the scraps for themselves. How much of their recent actions was directed by Ouranos, or by the mortals working for him was anyone's guess. But back when Hephaestus first descended, they were little more than a stock exchange for adventures as Ouranos was too busy wrangling the Dungeon into submission to focus his attention on anything else for too long.

  But nowadays, the Guild holds the reins to the city itself. Foreign policy, laws, taxes- the Guild controls it all. There was even talk about setting up an actual judicial system, pulling yet more power from the gods and their right to mete out justice themselves internally.

  And then in walks Maedmux Maddic. The gnoll. The hyena-man. The mystery. The liar.

  In a single day, in front of half the damn city, he goes and invents a way to keep crystals working, possibly indefinitely. If that technology spreads, then the Guild's carefully managed economy goes up in smoke, along with most of their political capital.

  The most advanced machine in history, and he goes and names it Snarf.

  Just the reminder of that little fact had her throwing her head back and groaning into the open air; Sliding down her chair as she did so until she was laying flat with her chin resting on her chest- though, the smile on her lips didn’t dim one wit.

  Max and Welf must never meet, else their terrible naming sense somehow combines and reaches max criticality, dooming us all.

  Truthfully, the loss didn’t sting as much as the potential familia member that slipped through her grasp today. It wasn’t his uniqueness, nor his ability that made him desirable, no.

  It was the look in his eyes, and the smile on his lips as he worked to build Snarf.

  Unbenounced to the teeming legions of familia hopefuls that regularly crowded her halls and begged for her attention, there was only one attribute that Hephaestus looked for when gracing a mortal with her falna. It was not skill, not level- not even magical ability, no.

  In order to become one of her children, you had to love the forge. Love creation itself. Everything else could come later, but without that burning, fiery devotion in your soul to hammer and steel, then they were not worthy to join those who did.

  And Max?

  Love was not a strong enough word to encompass the religious zeal she spied burning in his eyes today out on the sands of the Amphitheatron.

  Yet another sigh blew past her lips as she polished off the rest of her wine. The hunt was not over yet; Far from it in fact. There’d be other chances to bring that lunk head into the family, and she was nothing if not persistent when it came to the children she desired.

  And oh how she desired him. Ever since she laid eyes upon that Ligerfang-shaped golem, her mind has been plagued with new ideas. Improvements, new designs, questions, oh- the questions she had!

  Questions that could be only answered by one single person in all of Genkai. A person who barely stayed around long enough after being declared the winner to shake her hand before darting off, the machine hopping along at his heels to go and survey his winnings.

  But that was fine.

  It wasn’t like he was going anywhere soon.

  What she needed to focus on now was riding the bucking dragon Max had unleashed on an unsuspecting world in an effort to win an old warehouse of all things without being thrown off and left behind. Things are going to start changing around here, and they will be changing rapidly.

  All centering around that beastial man with a mind like none other.

  Raising her empty wine glass in the air as a salute, she spoke aloud for the first time in several hours. “To interesting times, Max. To interesting times…”

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  Ptah was resting with his head resting on his elbow, staring listlessly out the window of his carriage as it sped by the endless grassland surrounding Orario. While outwardly appearing bored, his mind was churning- over and over again the words of that strange creature repeated themselves, describing what he built, how he built it, and more importantly… What it meant for the world at large.

  Nothing good, for sure. At least in Orario’s hands it won't be.

  Orario, the de facto capital of the world. The only place in all of Genkai where monster crystals are actually somewhat affordable. Everywhere else they’re the sole domain of the wealthy and connected. Only the ultra rich could afford the luxury of a magitek refrigerator or a self-heating stove. If you didn’t have the unbelievable luck of being born into the one percent of society that had such disposable wealth? Then you lived the same way your ancestors lived, and how their ancestors lived, and so on and so forth. Life for the average person has not changed, nor improved since man first put history to paper.

  Only in Orario can the average person even consider the purchase of one of the technological marvels that rely on monster stones to function.

  But… The technology to break this vicious cycle that has held the world hostage for millenia doesn’t belong to Orario, now does it? It didn’t take a master spy like his loftly wedded wife to tap into the rumor mill surrounding the strange mortal known as Maedmux ‘Max’ Maddic. And one of the most hotly debated topics surrounding the ‘gnoll’ was his open refusal to join any familia.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  While Ptah doubted that he and his familia could offer the stubborn creature anything that the familia’s of Orario couldn’t already provide, that didn’t mean he couldn’t work with the independent.

  When he returned to Solingen, he’d fill in Sekhmet with everything he learned, and they’d decide together where to go from there.

  But first things first-

  A huge, disgustingly love-struck smile came over his face as he swooned with an incandescent blush coloring his cheeks.

  He needed to get back home to his lovey-dovey fuzzy-wuzzy Kitty Kitty Cat~

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  As the victorious visitor from afar and his artificial monster fled the stadium amidst the shocked cries and outraged yells of the crowd, Ouranos waved a dismissive hand, and Fels obediently cut the connection to the orb. Ending the transmission and reverting the crystal ball back to its natural cobalt blue color.

  The two sat in silence for a moment, both lost deep in their thoughts before Ouranos shifted on his stone throne, a hand coming up to rub his chin as he looked askance at his oldest and most steadfast friend with a discerning eye. While no hint of the skeletal man could be seen beneath the all-encompassing pitch black cloak he favored, having known the mage for well over eight lifetimes at this point had lent itself to a familiarity with his mannerisms that bordered on omniscience.

  And Fels was scheming.

  “What are you thinking, my old friend?”

  The shadow lingering within Fel’s hood started, shaken from his thoughts. Rising to meet his eyes, the immortal mage carefully considered his words before speaking. “Just that there are quite a few projects that I had previously abandoned as not worth pursuing that I may have to revisit, my lord. Chief amongst them being feasibility of golems. Though… what he did with that crystal is dangerous.”

  Ouranos nodded, agreeing whole heartedly with his assessment. “A grave issue that must be addressed. The Dungeon is already at its limit; it's all I can do to keep it contained. Without the pressure relief of the crystal extraction business, then it would reach criticality far faster than we could ever hope to clear it. That device must not spread. Not yet.”

  Hearing the unspoken ruling, Fels slightly dipped his head. “What is your command, my lord?”

  “Speak to him.” The First God decided after contemplating the problem presented. “Judge his worthiness. If you find him acceptable, then we can bring him into the fold. If not, then you must convince him not to spread the technology through any means you deem fit. I will trust your judgment on this matter fully. As he has refused to join any existing powers in the city, he will be searching for allies to help enforce his independence. I want us to be the one he goes to for help first.”

  “Understood, my lord. Though, what shall we do if Maddic refuses to see reason?”

  At his understandable question, Ouranos let out a world-weary sigh as he sagged slightly in his chair. The centuries of constant struggle and strife weighing more than usual on him in these trying times. After many thankless years of holding back the Dungeon, all while simultaneously holding back his fellow gods from each other's throats was never easy, but it felt as if even Genkai itself was conspiring against him these days.

  “Then we will burn that bridge when we get to it, my child. But let us first strive for diplomacy and friendship. Peace is, and will always be the objective.”

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  Loki lay sprawled across Finn's desk, her feet pressed flat on a previously immaculately arranged stack of paper; Mussing it all up and wrinkling their corners, if only to see the slight squint of frustration in the corner of her normally unflappable captain’s eyes. Finn himself was struggling to finish filing an invoice for more potions from Dian Cecht as his goddess was currently napping on the inventory forms he needed.

  The goddess let out an internal cry of victory when her captain finally threw up his arms in defeat after trying, and failing, to pull one out from under her without ripping it. Slumping back into his seat, the blond haired pallum let out an exasperated sigh colored with just a hint of good-natured amusement as he glared at his goddess with half-lidded eyes.

  Loki allowed herself a mental pat on the back at finally getting her workaholic second to do what she had wanted and just relax for a bit. By her own name, Finn would be wrinkled and grey at twenty if he hadn’t had the good fortune to be born a perpetually youthful looking pallum.

  Chalking it up as yet another victory in her book when Finn’s eyes began to droop into a doze of his own, Loki basked in her success.

  Oh ya’, it’s all comin’ up aces for this goddess of trickery.

  Well, maybe not all aces… More like a straight flush or something.

  A royal flush would have been putting a falna on Max’s back, but she’d have to settle for the next best thing. The whole city knew of her staked claim on the gnoll, the whole city watched her walk said gnoll out onto the sands of the colosseum, and- most importantly- the Loki familia got their foot in the door of Max’s business first.

  Max’s fluffy butt is all but her’s.

  All of the backbreaking politicking and scheming she had to do this past week would have been worth it just to get those fancy Bags Of Whatchamacallum’s into the hands of her children.

  But…

  Then Max had to go and prove he wasn’t just blowing hot air in… probably one of the most spectacular manners he could have managed in such a short time since arriving. Beating out a goddess at her own game and making a real-fake monster to boot. Now he's the proud owner of one of Heppie-sans dilapidated warehouses, and a target the size of Babel on his back.

  As Finn’s soft snores filled the room, Loki felt a toothy smirk slide over her lips. Max will either beat the scavengers gathering at his door, baying for their pound of flesh, or he won't- but either way…

  He’s gonna’ have to remember his friends.

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  I got fucking scammed.

  Hoodwinked.

  Hustled.

  Bamboozled!

  No matter how many synonyms I could think of, nothing changed the reality of my new situation. High off my own victory, Snarf and I took off before a crowd of angry bettors could tear me limb from limb, laughing all the way.

  Following the directions I remembered from the Guild’s map, I made my way west from Babel and all the way into the black-zone. Something that hadn’t been expressed in any of the maps, nor conversations I’ve had in adequate detail is what “devastated” ment. From one block to the next, the city went from a cheerful melting pot of ancient cultures to post-apocalyptica slash ancient ruins in a single step. It was like walking down the streets of Pompeii a couple of days post eruption. Marble columns fallen across collapsed buildings like felled trees, the skeletal remains of temples reaching for the skies, fucking buildings that were actually sinking into the ground!

  Calling the place something as nondescript as ‘an abandoned district’ is like calling the Challenger explosion ‘a minor hiccup in the operation’.

  Technically correct, yet at the same time falling a bit short of the true gravity of the situation.

  How in Yeenoghu’s mane could a city just… let whole swathes of itself waste away like this? Do they not have the population anymore? The drive? Was the ‘Dark Age’ of Orario that traumatizing that a good chunk of the city was left as some sort of mass grave?

  And- most importantly, is it gonna’ be an issue now that I’m moving in?

  Standing before the decaying remains of what was once a resource-intake warehouse that supplied Hephaestus’s old foundry, I took in the sight of my new home. An ‘L’ Shaped building made of large, weathered blocks of marble, the longer part running perpendicular to the western-most main road, with the short side following along a smaller side road that led off into the interior of the ruined district.

  Spaced in equal distances from each other down the long side of the building were four large wooden gates, though most of the wood had long since rotted away, leaving only a few scraps of moldy planks bolted to the frame. The roof looked to be a total write-off, as it was missing most of its shingles, and even sagging in some places right into the building. By counting the windows full of shattered or outright missing glass, I could tell it was at least three stories tall if you included the attic.

  As I was standing there on the side of the road like a dumbass with my paws on my hips staring up at what a building that would have been condemned in a heartbeat back home, Snarf came prancing out the front door. Running up to me, the mech planted his haunches on the cobblestone with a clank of metal on stone while looking up at me, waiting to be praised for all his hard work.

  “Did you walk across every square foot? Including the corners and under the stairs? All the hard to reach places?”

  Only after Snarf nodded vigorously to each of my demands did I relent and give the machine a head rub. Was I using my suspiciously sapient Steel Defender as a living landmine detector?

  You bet your ass I was.

  Did that make me a bad person? Meh, that's just like- your opinion, man.

  Bending down until I was eye level with the machine, I leaned in and whispered into Snarf’s artificial ears. “So help me Yeenoghu, Snarf. If I go in there, and get blown up by a fucking magical IED that you missed, I will turn your ass into a photocopier machine, and use you to send pictures of my balls to my enemies. Do you understand me?”

  Rearing back, I looked deep into the eyes of my creation for any comprehension of my promise; Any signs of sapience in those glowing blue crystals at all… and I swear, if I had given him the ability to do so, he would just innocently blinked twice at me as he cocked his head in confusion at the non-order.

  Good enough.

  “Then come on then.” I grunted, while rising to my feet and starting my way over to the doorless front door. “Let's go take the grand tour of our new home.”

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  “I’m cooked.”

  “No you're not.” Mama Mia mercilessly cut me off, not even looking up from the mug she was wiping down. “Hyena tastes terrible. At best you’d be stewed.”

  “Fine, I’m stewed then.”

  Realizing what the hell just came out of my mouth, I lifted my head from where I had it buried in my paws to look at the freakishly tall dwarven proprietress. “Wait… have you eaten hyena before?”

  Pausing, she stared at me from the corner of her eye for a solid five seconds in silence, before returning to her work without a word.

  Not bothering to suppress the shiver running down my spine at the appraising nature of the look, I wisely decided to completely ignore what just happened and instead muscle on bemoaning my lot in life with the one universal constant that exists across all of time and space- the therapy bartender.

  “I don’t know what I’m gonna’ do Mia. The whole damn thing is rotted through down to the supports. I’d need to gut the entire building back to stone if I ever want to use it! All that work, all that drama- just for a warehouse that's one wrong sneeze away from fucking disintegrating!”

  “Aren't you rich or something?” Mia finally grumbled as I finished with my rant. “Just hire Vishvakarma Construction, tswat’ everyone else does.”

  Seeing my quizzical look, she groaned before slapping her rag onto the bar and hanging the mug back up on the wall behind her. “Vishvakarma? Yah’ know, the construction familia? They build everything around here. Muscle out all their competitors too, so they’re the only real construction firm out there; But they still offer… somewhat reasonable prices, even if they’re a damn monopoly.”

  “Oh… do you know where the-”

  “Do I look like I’m wearing a suit and tie to you?! You want to get drunk? Come here. You want award winning customer service, go to the Guild!”

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  And thus I found myself back at the disgustingly perverse Guild hall.

  Not perverse in like- a sexual way, but in that the Guild has somehow taken an escapist fantasy world, and made it corporate. Elves, dwarves, humans, and shifters- all dressed up to the nines in business formal suits, ties, and Customer Service Smiles.

  It was as if Tolkien wrote a book based in modern times, but made sure it hit all the right soul-crushingly dystopian notes, along with the boringly mundane ‘drama in a bank lobby’ ones as well.

  Utterly unnatural

  The echoing clicks of my claws against the waxed marble floor thundered out like gunshots to my ears as I crossed the vaulting lobby, making a bee-line straight towards the one free kiosk.

  Sitting there looking bored out of her mind and staring off into space was a red haired woman with two canine ears poking up through under her scarlet locks. Whether she was a dog-shifter, or what the locals called a werewolf was anyone's guess, and certainly none of my business.

  As it was still fairly early in the evening, adventurers had only just started to trickle back from their dive into the Dungeon, so the hall was still fairly empty; Although I could feel the eyes of the few people loitering around boring into my back as I passed them.

  The woman only snapped back to reality when my shadow crossed her desk. I saw her startle, seemingly confused as to why anyone would be approaching her desk while she was still at work. The annoyed look in her eyes quickly fled when, instead of finding some annoying adventure here to bug her while hopped up on his own testosterone; All she saw was a maroon padded vest covered in belts and buckles with fur poking out from under the gaps.

  And as her eyes traveled up, and up, and up towards my face, her ears slowly splayed themselves backwards with every inch they traveled.

  When her eyes finally met my own, her ears were flat to her head and her eyes were as wide as dinner plates. Hoping to put her at ease, I gave her my best winning smile. “Hi there, miss! I was hoping you could help me get in contact with the Vishvakarma familia for contract work?”

  “Holy shit… You’re a lot taller than I thought you’d be.”

  Raising a single inquisitive eyebrow, I stared at her in amused silence for a moment before the mortification visibly crashed into her like a tidal wave.

  Now with cheeks burning almost as red as her hair, she fumbled for any last scrap of professional dignity she could muster. “I-I mean!- Vishvakarma!? I can certainly help you with that sir! The Vishvakarma familia does all their business through us, with Guild representatives acting as mediators between both parties. Unfortunately, lord Vishvakarma is usually very busy managing projects directly, so he almost never meets with clients himself, please forgive any perceived rudeness on their part! If you could kindly leave with me a copy of any plans, blueprints, or just general ideas you wish for Vishvakarma Construction to bring to life, I will get that to them immediately. They should have an assessor out within a day to survey the site, where they will draft up a quote and an estimated time to completion.”

  Her clearly canned pitch finished, I told her I didn’t have anything concrete now, but that I’d be right back. Grabbing a seat at one of the well furnished waiting areas lining the hall, I pulled out my notebook and summoned my Wizardly Quill with a flick of my fingers.

  Tapping the edge of the page with the tip of the quill, I stopped to really consider it, because what did I want? Rather than just repair it back to functionality, shouldn’t I at least take the chance to find out how much it would cost to customize the building?

  Make it my home, rather than just Hephaestus’s old warehouse.

  With that in mind, I decided to scrap the entire interior and start from scratch. The current layout of the building is extremely simple. The longer bit is clearly the ‘intake’ section, just a large open room with four massive doors leading the main road, that would be where goods would be initially brought in. The rest of the building was divided up into smaller storage rooms that would hold organized goods for a longer term until they could be distributed to the rest of Hephaestus’s familia.

  The longer bit of the building would stay pretty much the same. Just a wide open space that goes all the way up to the second story. That would make an excellent workshop and forge to work out of. The first floor on the smaller section would become my storefront. Lots of windows to make it feel more open and airy, isles and shelves for goods, and a counter- all basic stuff. The second story would be the living area. A fully equipped kitchen, a decent sized dining area, and a nice cozy den; All situated with an open floor plan so there's no walls dividing them. Finally- The attic would be sectioned off into bedrooms and auxiliary storage. The biggest room situated right at the end would obviously go to myself, with a big bay window overlooking the devastated landscape, and an even bigger bed to curl up in. The rest of the rooms would become either guest rooms in case I ever have someone over or…

  A fluttering nervousness that paradoxically bordered on giddy excitement spread through my belly at the thought of the potential for apprentices. Not something I’ll have to worry about in the near future but… That won't always be the case, and the awesome responsibility of shaping a young mind and passing down all one's hard-earned skills is a rite of passage that all craftsmen worth their name must go through at some point in their lives.

  Shaking my head to dispel my apprehension of an issue I might not have to worry about for years, I got back to sketching out the floor plan for the attic. When I was done, I had a professional rendering of my ideal home. Notations in the corners highlighted specifics of what I wanted such as wood types for different aspects of the building or just the style in general. Every line was labeled with exact measurements so there would be no confusion when it came time to put hammers to nails.

  After giving it a once-over to make sure there were no mistakes, I carefully tore the page from my notebook and stood up. At this point, the sun had long-since set, and the Guild hall was bustling with adventures returning from the Dungeon; Their steps heavy and their bags heavier with loot.

  The hall was so busy that even the canine-eared receptionist from earlier that folks seemed to be avoiding for some reason had a healthy line in front of her. Quietly stepping in to join the que, I did my best not to show any outward reactions at all the piercing stares following my every movement.

  Soon enough the line was dispersed with an industrial efficiency that bordered on brusque. Each and every attempt at polite conversation, or even not-so-subtle flirting was mercilessly squashed by the receptionist with either cold indifference or outright hostility. Adventurer after adventure was cashed out of their Dungeon goods for cold hard valis at a blistering pace- some leaving more downtrodden than they had arrived after getting brutally shot-down by the admittedly attractive woman. When it was finally my turn, some of that hostility did flee from her eyes, but that flinty coldness barely hidden behind a polite smile that only the most jaded of customer service representatives get after years of work remained.

  “Ah, Mister Maddic, you’re back. I take it you have the documents you wish for us to pass on?”

  “Right here, Miss…?” I said, starting to slide the draft over before stumbling when I realized I never got her name the first go around. Now it was my turn to blush a bit in embarrassment when she simply huffed.

  “Fannett, Mister Maddic.” Taking the paper from my paws, her hands flashed with an economy of movement that, again, was eerily robotic in its efficiency. In seconds my paper was stamped, folded, stamped again, another form was pulled from under her desk and stamped, before it was all bundled up and tucked into a crisp white envelope with Vishvakarma Construction’s name already printed on it.

  Placing it into a tray on the corner of her desk labeled ‘Outbound’, she looked back up at me with half-lidded boredom dulling her eyes. From her expression alone I could tell that the novelty of seeing a gnoll, or non-humanoid being in general, had long since worn off, and I was already just another face in the crowd that she had to deal with in order to get them to go away faster.

  It was strangely comforting, in a weird way.

  “Will that be all, Mister Maddic?”

  “Yes it will, thank you for your help today.”

  “Very well then. Please come back to the Guild in two days to receive your quote from the Vishvakarma familia. Also, please be aware that lord Vishvakarma does not haggle, it will be a take-it or leave-it price. Thank you, and have a nice evening sir.”

  I feel like that goodbye would have felt a bit more genuine, if she didn’t start turning away halfway through to fiddle with some other papers.

  Huffing in amusement at the universal customer service rep. struggle, I mentally wished both her, and the gentleman behind me with blushing cheeks and singular rose in his hands luck as I turned and left the building.

  Sitting by the steps where I left him was Snarf, surrounded by a curious crowd of gawkers. That little bastard was eating up the attention, too. He had the subtlety of a preening celebrity as he basked in their presence, dropping into a completely unnecessary bowing stretch to show off his sleek armor plating as I approached.

  With a wordless bark that roughly translated to ‘euhp!’ in Gnollish, Snarf sprang to his feet and pranced over to heel at my side. Giving him a rough pat on the head, the both of us walked out into the setting twilight blanketing the city.

  “Looks like we’re gonna’ be slumming it for a bit longer at Mama Mia’s, buddy.”

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