AN: So been a while, sorry about that! That said, I've started watching the anime again, I stopped after season 1, and have been reinvigored. It's about this time stats to get moving, so I'll be dedicating a bit more time to it and will hopefully get a couple more updates out.

But anyway, hope you enjoy, and please leave a review etc. If you have any questions or suggestions, please feel free to PM me.

Another thing while I am at it, is this. I am a part of a discord group, the Emerald Library, there's tons of others there, plenty of writers, admittedly mainly PJO, but other stuff too, including a growing number of writers. Feel free to pop along and say hi, I'm always happy to chat about the stuff I am writing. So if you fancy it please do to join by sticking this: discord .gg / elibrary into discord, with no spaces, or using the link on my bio.

Also I've had a couple of people PMing me about this, so decided why not. So, if you'd like to become a patron just head on over to Pat re on and add a /Greed720 after the . com. There's no real pressure for this, and there won't be a paywall or anything like that. Just giving the option if people fancy contributing. Either way, whether you do become a patron or just remain a casual reader it's appreciated.

Thanks for reading and please do leave a review, that or feel free to PM, I am usually much better at answering those!

( - )

(Last Time)

"Well, fortunately, I'm stubborn." Azoth shot back.

Her smile widened at his answer. "Then I look forward to seeing you at the Twilight Manor soon, it should be an entertaining evening."

With that said, she gave him another smile, a nod and then bade him farewell.

"What is it with elves and being weird?" Charles muttered to him.

Azoth gave him a flat look in response, before with a sigh he looked around at the rest of the plaza and patted Beckendorf on the shoulder. "I'm not sure what else we can do here, let's go catch up with the others."

"Right," Beckendorf nodded. "And then we should probably get back to the Familia and talk to Hephaestus, she'll probably want some warning before Loki ambushes her."

( - )

Chapter 14

( - )

(With Azoth)

The loud crash of metal striking metal.

The fiery heat of the forge gently tickling his skin.

They were all familiar sensations, and welcome ones too.

It was therapeutic.

Or at least it was for him.

Bringing his hammer down again, Azoth narrowed his eyes as he felt yet more hot sparks dance across his skin.

He was currently forging himself a new set of armour.

It wouldn't be a permanent set.

The materials he was using were not good enough for that.

The ore was similar to orichalcum, the ore that was predominantly favoured by Orismer smiths in the creation of their armour, and had been mined from a vein of the metal on the twenty sixth floor of the dungeon.

It was strong, malleable, and very easy to forge and work in its current state. But once hardened, it would have a lot of durability.

That said, it probably wouldn't hold up against an Elder Dragon, and would be as useless as plain cloth were he to battle Alduin again.

But for exploring the Dungeon, and while acting as support for the Loki Familiar on their upcoming expedition to the lower depths, it would do the job.

Letting out a slow breath of air, Azoth set his hammer down gently on the side. His violet eyes still narrowed as he examined the still glowing hot breastplate for any imperfections.

Seeing none, he turned and quenched it in the vat of oil beside him.

Ignoring the hiss of the oil, he pulled it out again, his sharp eyes roving over the flaming breastplate, even as the surrounding flames rapidly dripped off and dispersed into nothingness.

From an initial examination, it looked good, if slightly simplistic.

With a bit of filing around the edges and a few rounds of polishing, and the addition of the usual padding, hide straps and other accoutrements, it would be done.

Smiling, he took a breath of the hot, sweaty forge air, and exhaled again.

The style he'd chosen for his temporary armour, was… a bit odd to say the least.

It wasn't something he usually went for.

Normally, he based the style of his workmanship on a mixture of ancient Dwemer and standard, high imperial Ebony Armour designs, with some of his own Nordic additions thrown in for flavour. He'd tried his hand at Altmerish and Ahkari styles in the past, but despite looking the part, they just didn't work for him.

For this armour, however, with it being a temporary one, he had instead chosen to experiment by basing the bulk of its design off of a suit of full, Orismer plate armour, he had once seen when he had visited one of their strongholds in the Rift. It was a style he'd not worked with much before, but that he had decided to try anyway as somewhat of a nod of respect to their highly talented artisans, after all the ore he was using was similar to the type they favoured.

Or at least that had been the plan.

Unfortunately, his memory of that armour hadn't been perfect. He'd studied it at the time, and had, in the past, worked with several Orismer blacksmiths on a number of projects, and had even fought alongside several Orc warriors who wore similar styles of plate armour during his adventures.

But alas, his memory wasn't perfect.

Which incidentally was often the excuse he made for why he was both a shit bard, and an even more lacklustre mage.

He'd probably been thumped too many times on the head, back when he was a gutter rat in Riften.

Thankfully, he'd been able to use something he did excel in, his adaptability, to fill in the gaps. With him falling back on some of the ideas and designs he had come up with when studying and deconstructing Falmer heavy armour back in his blacksmith forge at Solitude.

A wry smile spread across his lips at that thought, even as he stood and carefully placed the freshly quenched, and nearly finished, breastplate on a cloth covered worktable – one of the several that dotted his personal forge.

The armour would look like some heretical amalgamation of two brutish, yet still contradictory, styles. With it combining the key aspects of traditional, utilitarian, Orisimer plate armour, with the chitinous, almost bestial Falmer style of heavy armour.

The sight of it would probably make a traditionalist Orismer blacksmith weep, and then try to kill him for the abomination he had created. And a Falmer warrior try to capture, brutally torture, and eventually eat him. Not that that would be any different from the norm when it came to dealing with those subterranean monsters.

Wiping his sweat soaked hair out of his eyes, Azoth's smile turned into a smirk.

He personally liked the look of it, though.

He liked experimenting with his techniques, and trying new things.

Which was partly why he was coming to enjoy being in Hephaestus's Familia. It was the perfect place for a blacksmith to pick up new ideas, and techniques, and test out their new theories and hypotheses as they worked with, and competed against, their fellow Familia members.

It was the perfect testing ground for a blacksmith, be they a novice or a master, to hone their craft and test their mettle. All while working under the watchful eye of a literal goddess of the forge. A goddess who both looked like a human, and who somehow had more humanity and kindness in her, than most humans could ever claim to have.

Azoth shook his head in amusement at that thought.

He had been cast into the twisting void, hurled from everything he had ever known and loved, and yet somehow he had landed on his feet in a way only someone both blessed and cursed with luck, like a Dragonborn, could.

He was genuinely happy here in Orario – a far kinder and gentler place than Skyrim ever was -, and for the first time in a while, was actually looking forward to what the future would bring him.

Stretching and rolling his shoulders, Azoth turned and headed to the nearby window, a smile still on his face as he pushed open the shutters, and allowed fresh air to roll into his forge and banish the hot, sweaty atmosphere within.

It was yet another beautiful day in Orario.

The city was alive and vibrant.

Looking at it now, one wouldn't have thought that only two days ago monsters had been running wild, and that people had been killed and injured.

Instead, the city was abuzz with life as merchants sold their wares, Adventurer trekked to the Dungeons for a day of grinding, or otherwise walked the streets conducting business, with the other inhabitants flocking around them as they went about their day-to-day lives.

For a savage northern elf like him, one who hailed from one of the roughest, bleakest and most violent regions of Tamriel, it was beautiful to see.

The city was a marvel to behold.

Which was why it was so heartening to see how fast it had recovered from the unpleasantness of the last few days.

Then again, with the Loki Familia's fast response, and the Guild and Freya Familia, among others, stepping in to support and help the wounded and those whose property had been damaged by the marauding monsters, maybe that wasn't surprising.

His smile faded slightly at that thought.

Or rather, at the thought of the Loki Familia.

Most of the members of the Loki Familia that he had met had been pretty decent.

Bete was rough around the edges, but he was a good laugh. Maybe it was the street urchin in him, or maybe it was his werewolf blood, but Azoth felt a certain kinship to the prickly, obnoxious man. He wouldn't quite call them friends, but he would say they were good acquaintances.

Riveria meanwhile, the beautiful green haired elf, was frighteningly sharp and intelligent, and was a real credit to the elfish race. But more than that, she also had a dry sense of humour that he very much appreciated. She was nothing like the shithead Altmer he knew, or the pessimistic Dunmer or just plain savage Bosmer he'd come across in his time. She was a good person. That, and she was as hot as 'Nine Hells' too, which he also appreciated.

Tiona, meanwhile, the wild Amazon, was a good laugh. Her personality was bubbly, and her joy at life was practically infectious. She was good people, and he had a lot of time for her. He didn't know her twin sister, but she seemed okay too. Not quite as charismatic as her flat chested sister, but not unpleasant. They were the kind of people he'd happily join on a quest.

Finn, the captain of the Familia, gave off good vibes. He seemed pretty honest for the most part, and despite looking like a child, pretty tough too. He didn't know him well, but he had come across as a decent guy.

The same could be said about Gareth, the axe wielding dwarf. He didn't know him well, but the guy had been loud and gregarious, and would have fitted in perfectly at Jorrvaskr.

Lefiya, he didn't know her well, but she seemed sweet and innocent. That, and he found her obvious crush on Aiz Wallenstein, the so-called 'Sword Princess', to be endearingly cute.

Thinking of Aiz though, Azoth felt his brow furrow.

She was the odd one out.

Out of all the members of the Loki Familia he had met, their elites, she was the only one that didn't seem to fit.

She was a contradiction.

Outwardly she appeared strong, confident, and stoic. But there was also an almost doll-like fragility to her. Where all the others had strong personalities, she was a personality void. She was just there. She didn't really laugh or smile, or add anything substantial. Instead, she just went with the flow, but not in the way he did, but rather in a way that spoke of sheer disinterest and detachment. She was like some kind of lifeless automaton, It was kind of creepy.

Compared to the larger than life personalities that made up Loki's elites, she was little more than a wallflower.

Azoth's frown softened.

He was probably being too judgemental, after all, he didn't know her that well. Then again, he didn't know any of them that well. He had met them a few times, and got hammered with them at the Hostess of Fertility once, and gone shopping with a couple too. But that was about it.

That said, he would be getting to know them all better this evening.

Azoth grimaced at that thought, even as he turned away from the window, and instead headed for one of the nearby armour mannequins, his gaze trailing over his damaged Ebony Armour for a moment, before shifting to the lighter, silver coloured armour he'd got of Welf – in the end he'd decided to throw the kid a bone and had bought the armour from him as a temporary spare.

Grabbing a nearby rag and wiping the sweat off his bare chest, Azoth thought back to just a couple of days ago.

On their return to Forgefire Manor, both Charles and himself, once they had reunited with their missing comrades, had passed on Loki's invitation to their goddess.

Not that they had needed to in the end, as like the fox faced goddess had threatened, she had somehow got the word in ahead of them.

Which meant their goddess already knew about what had happened, and also about Loki's invitation to join her Familia for a feast, which she had happily accepted.

Though whether that was because she had bought Loki's excuse of it being a good way to celebrate their upcoming expedition and the 'closeness' of their two Familias, or because she had seen some kind of opportunity to be gained from going, he didn't know.

What he did know though was that she had accepted the invitation, and that all those who were going on the expedition would be headed en masse to the Loki's Familia's ostentatious home, the Twlight Manor, this evening.

There was also an open invitation for those not going on the expedition too, but for those that were, their presence was apparently not optional.

Hephaestus might be a benevolent goddess, especially when compared to some of the other divine beings he knew, but when she wanted to get her point across she didn't need her divine powers to make it stick.

Letting out a half-hearted sigh, Azoth pulled a shirt on and began to strap Welf's light armour onto his body.

The armour wasn't perfect, but it would do the job for today.

Which is to say, it would offer him some basic protection for when he headed down to the upper floors of the Dungeon, which was exactly what he was planning on doing now.

He didn't like formal feasts, or being the centre of attention.

He found it stressful and annoying.

Most of the time he'd prefer to be either in his forge, or fighting monsters to assuage his ever fiery dragon soul, or getting completely hammered in a warm, welcoming tavern. Spending the entire evening in the presence of the nosey Loki, was not his idea of fun. Which was why he needed to vent a bit in the Dungeon.

Adjusting the straps of his scratched cuirass, Azoth rolled his shoulder and stretched a few times to make sure he could still move, after which he headed for his weapons rack.

His mood perked up slightly as he gripped Dawnbreaker's familiar hilt, even as he pulled it off the rack and strapped it to his right hip, his Daedric dagger soon following as he slotted the sheathed blade onto his other hip.

Pulling on a leather harness, and fastening it up tight, Azoth then grabbed his last weapon.

His eyes instinctively made contact with the screaming elf face that was engraved into the head of the axe, even as he lifted it off his weapons rack.

Wuuthrad, also known in the language of Atmora, as the Storm's Tears.

The irony of him wielding this axe was not lost on him.

The mighty axe had once been wielded by Ysgramor, the legendary warrior that founded the Companions.

It had also once been known as the 'Elf-Grinder', as it was with this very axe that Ysgramor had slaughtered the original elven inhabitants of Skyrim.

Which made the irony of him, an elf, being the one to wield it even more absurd.

Legend had it that Wuuthrad had been forged by Ysgramor's son Yngol from his father's Ebony tears, and that due to this, Ysgramor's fury and all-consuming hatred of elves had been imbued into the double-bladed axe, making it the bane of his kind.

It had literally been used to commit genocide on his kind, and yet here he was wielding it.

Azoth's smile turned bitter at that thought.

When he had first learned of the weapon's history, he had been tempted to smash it into pieces once more, and then hurl its shattered remains into the nearest volcano – heading to Solsthiem had seemed like a good idea at the time.

But thankfully common-sense and petty spite had prevailed, and not only had he been able to avoid alienating the Companions by not trashing their most sacred relic, but he'd also been able to thumb his nose at Ysgramor for being a genocidal shithead by usurping his axe and forcing it to follow the will of an elf.

Not only had he become the Harbringer of Ysgramor's Companions, his legacy, but he now also stole his axe too.

The guy might be long dead and buried, but a spiteful part of Azoth hoped that he'd be rolling in his grave or choking on ale up in Sovengard, knowing that an elf had got one over on him in the end.

His smile turned vicious, even as he spun the deadly blade in his hand, and then holstered it onto his back.

Time was a wastin', and he had some Dungeon diving to do.

It was just the kind of thing he needed to do to work out his frustration and stress, and to get himself into the right mood to deal with the upcoming evening's festivities at the Twlight Manor.

( - )

Heading for the Dungeon twenty or so minutes later, Azoth took the time during his work to look around at the ongoing activity.

It was just like he had thought, the city had recovered exceptionally well after the unpleasantness just a few days past.

It was enough to make him wonder how often things like that happened?

Maybe not with monsters, but considering the city played host to thousands of Adventurers, all of whom were grouped together in different, competing Familia's, there was surely going to be tension, and the occasional outbreak of hostility.

Azoth hummed to himself at that thought, even as he entered the main plaza and looked around at some of the buildings. A few still bore the scars of what had occurred just two days before.

The damage was not substantial, but it was noticeable.

That said, it was far worse just the other day, which once again made him ponder the regularity of conflict within the city.

From speaking with Hephaestus, Beckendorf, Erhard and some of the others in his Familia, he had figured out the general hierarchy within Orario.

There were hundreds of Familias in the city, and these Familias specialised in a whole assortment of different things.

Some were exploration Familias which, as the name might suggest, explored the Dungeons. Some were blacksmithing Familias, like his own, which crafted weapons and armour for other Adventurer. Still others specialised in alchemy and creating medicines. Others were mercantile Familias, or specialised in agriculture, mining, and the hunting of monsters outside of the Dungeons and the walled city.

There were hundreds of Familias, and hundreds of different things that they could focus on, or specialise in.

Some of these Familias had hundreds of members, others had only one or two.

It reminded him very much of some of the guilds from his homeland, except on a smaller scale, and with no one 'guild' having a monopoly.

Out of all the Familias though, there were two that stood head and shoulders above the rest. The two premier Familias, and the de facto rulers of the city, in that their patron gods had the most power and influence, and these were the Loki Familia and the Freya Familia.

The reason behind their status, however, was not just the numbers of Adventurer in their ranks though, or the fact that they were both highly successful exploration type Familias.

Instead, the reason was the power, or rather, the level, of their Adventurer.

Of the thousands of Adventurers in the city, the majority were Level One, like Welf. After that, there were approximately six hundred Level Twos, around three hundred Level Threes, eighty seven Level Fours, twenty three Level Fives, eight Level Sixes including himself, and only one adventurer that had reached Level Seven.

Of the Level Six and Level Seven Adventurer, all of them but him were in the Loki and Freya Familias.

The balance of power within the city was obvious.

Yet, from what he had heard, neither the members of the Freya Familia nor the Loki Familia regularly exercised their power, and instead took more of a hands-off approach to the city, essentially letting all the other Familias run rampant and do whatever they wanted, within reason of course.

The only thing regulating the other Familias, and keeping the fighting and conflict to a minimum, was the Guild, a purely bureaucratic entity with no standing force, who at most could put sanctions on Familias or restrict them access to the services the Guild provided.

Which meant, effectively, the city was full of a multitude of warring factions of highly enhanced individuals, who so long as they kept the trouble low-key, could do and get away with whatever they wanted. A city full of would-be warlords, each of whom had their own territory of sorts, be it physical or otherwise.

Azoth hummed to himself at that thought.

Maybe conflict and fighting wasn't that rare in the city then.

It would certainly explain the adaptability of the residents, the quick response to trouble, and the rapid returning to normality after the trouble had come to an end.

"Not so different from Skyrim, then," Azoth muttered to himself.

It was smaller in scale compared to the harsh country of his birth, but the Familias were not too dissimilar to the different regions of Skyrim, only instead of Jarls and their courts, they had gods and their Familias, and instead of the Empire keeping the peace, they had the Loki Familia, Freya Familia and the Guild, keeping the status quo.

Which did beg the question. Who were the Stormcloaks in this analogy?

Which Familia was it that was working behind the scenes to disrupt the status quo? Who wanted to use chaos and strife to their advantage to facilitate their rise to power? After all, they never did discover just who it was that let all those monsters out the other day.

Azoth's eyes narrowed at that thought.

He liked Orario, it had good vibes.

He liked the people he had met here.

But he wasn't naïve.

Chaos was a ladder, and there were always self-absorbed, narcissistic shitheads out there looking to climb its rungs.

Clicking his tongue at that thought, Azoth came to a stop by the fountain. His gaze instinctively shifting up as he looked up at the colossal Tower of Babel, the seal that sat over the top of the seemingly endless Dungeon below.

It was odd, but as he looked up at the intimidating tower, he couldn't help but feel like something was looking back at him.

It was eerie.

Repressing a shudder, his hand instinctively rested on the hilt of Dawnbreaker, even as he tore his gaze away from the looming tower, and instead headed in the direction of the entrance.

Or at least he tried to, as instead he ended up walking face-first into a large canvas bag, incidentally knocking the unseen owner of said bag over as he did so.

"Owie…" A small, yet familiar, voice groaned.

Rubbing his nose, Azoth glanced down at the stupidly oversized bag quizzical, before, without a word, he reached down and lifted the bag and the person attached to it off of the ground and turned them around so that they were now facing him, their feet dangling half a metre above the ground.

"Well hello short stuff," Azoth smiled, as he spun the bag around, only to find himself face to face with the same snarky, female pallum that he'd healed up just the other day.

Irritated golden brown eyes met amused violet eyes, as the girl, now hanging several feet above the ground, kicked her feet back and forth irritably.

"Don't call Lili short, you stupid elf!" Lili growled, her eyes narrowing as she futilely tried to kick him. "And let Lili down too!"

"Yeah, yeah," Azoth chuckled, carefully lowering Lili down, so her small feet touched down on the sun scorched paving below.

"Why did you knock Lili over, Mister Azoth?" Lili scowled accusingly, her arms folding as she glared up at him.

She apparently recognised him too.

"Yeah, sorry, it was an accident, I just wasn't looking where I was going." Azoth laughed, reaching out and patting her hooded head as he did so.

Slapping his hands away, Lili growled at him again like an angry cat. "And stop patting Lili's head, it is inappropriate."

Azoth grinned back, even as he cocked his head to the side. "Why do you have animal ears now, short stuff?"

Lili froze for a moment, before slowly, carefully answering. "Lili, doesn't know what Mister Azoth is talking about. Lili has always been a chienthrope."

"Uh huh," Azoth hummed, his smile growing. "My memory might not be perfect, but I definitely remember you being a pallum the other day."

Lili glanced around shiftily for a moment, biting her lip.

"Lili doesn't know what you mean," She then said, her voice firm, before moments later her eyes narrowed curiously. "Have you just returned from the Dungeon, Mister Azoth?"

"Just call me, Azoth," Azoth replied easily, letting the less than subtle attempt to change the topic go for the moment.

"Hmm, Lili will, if Mister Azoth, calls Lili by her name." Lili replied, once again speaking in the third person.

It was odd, but in some ways endearing.

"Ha, I suppose that's fair," Azoth laughed, scratching the back of his head with his gauntleted hand.

"Good," Lili nodded, before frowning. "But have you just come back from the Dungeon?"

"No, I was just heading there right now, or at least I was before I bumped into you…, again sorry about that. Why do you ask?" Azoth asked, before wrinkling his nose and trying to use his heightened sense of smell, courtesy of his wolfish nature, to try and catch his own scent. "Do I stink or something? I know I've been in the forge for most of the morning, but I didn't think it was that bad?!"

"No, Lili doesn't think you smell any worse than you did the other day." Lili replied, after a moment of confusion.

"Thanks," Azoth replied, his tone dry. The other day, he'd been covered in monster guts and copious amounts of sweat.

"Lili just thought you had finished in the Dungeon, as your armour looks damaged?" Lili continued, her head tilting to the side.

Glancing down at his armour, Azoth noted all the scratches and scrapes.

It looked a bit battered, but the damage was only cosmetic.

"It's fine, it's just low level armour though, which is why it's picked up a few scratches. But anyway, yes, I am about to head into the Dungeon." Azoth replied easily.

Lili hummed in response, her gaze inquisitive. "Say, what Familia are you from, Mister Azoth?"

"Please, it's just Azoth," He lightly reminded her. "And I'm a part of the Hepheastus Familia."

"Oh wow, that's a well-respected Familia!" Lili replied, her eyes now alight with interest. "You must be a very strong adventurer to be able to join up!"

Smiling down at her, Azoth felt himself relax a little. The girl had obviously never heard of him, which maybe wasn't surprising as aside from his little scuffle with Bete at the Hostess of Fertility, he hadn't done anything all that noteworthy.

In fact, his only claim to fame was him being a Level Six Adventurer, and even that information had not travelled all that far, as not even Tiona and the other Loki Familia members, those who were probably more knowledgeable about the goings on in the city, had known, until he had told them about.

It was a nice feeling, to not be recognised.

"I've always been more of a smith than an adventurer." Azoth replied truthfully.

He liked going on adventures and collecting new material to play around with, and just generally fighting, partly due to his nature. But he was always at his happiest in a forge, creating rather than destroying.

"Ah," Lili nodded, her gaze trailing down his scratched up armour, before coming to rest on his gear, or rather on Dawnbreaker's glowing hilt. "Does that mean you forged that magic sword?"

"What Dawnbreaker?" Azoth smiled, meeting Lili's eyes, his head cocking to one side curiously. "No, I didn't make Dawnbreaker, I'm nowhere near skilled enough. It was a gift from a… goddess I once did a favour for."

"It must have been an impressive favour. It looks so powerful!" Lili cried amazed, her expression full of awe.

"I wouldn't say impressive," Azoth laughed. He'd had to clear her temple of undead filth, and kill the vile necromancer who had set up a base there. "More just annoying."

Lili tilted her head to one side in confusion.

"Some people were despoiling one of her temples, so she asked me to sort it out." Azoth expanded.

"Ah Lili sees, so she had you cleaning up her temple?" Lili asked, a hint of amusement appearing in her golden brown eyes.

"That's one way of putting it." Azoth chuckled.

"You must have done a good job if she gave you a magic sword as a reward!" Lili chirped.

"A reward?" Azoth mused, before shrugging. "That's one way of looking at it. Personally, I just think she was tired of having it lying around gathering dust, and just wanted someone to use it again."

Lili nodded, her expression earnest. "So what have you actually made so far then, Mister Azoth?"

"It's Azoth, stumpy." Azoth smiled, his eyes twinkling as he saw her puff out her cheeks in displeasure. "And not much, really. I've made a spare sword, and started on a new set of armour, which is mostly done now, and that's pretty much it. I've not got a huge amount of materials or valis to work with, so I need to build up a good supply before I make anything more impressive."

"So, is that why you're going to the Dungeon?" Lili asked, her gaze shifting onto his other weapons, his dagger dull black and with an over stylised hilt, and Wuuthrad whose screaming head was peering over his shoulder.

"Among other things," Azoth shrugged. "I need to get more money, and to get some drop items and other bits and pieces too, plus I'll need to either buy some more ore, or mine some myself. So yeah, I've got to do quite a bit of grinding. That said, the other reason, is because I've got an unpleasant dinner planned for the evening, and want to do some venting on the upper floors, before I have to clean up and head out."

"Doesn't sound like you're looking forward to your date." Lili smirked.

"That's one way of putting it," Azoth grinned.

"Well, Lili can't help with your date, but if you're looking to go into the Dungeons and do some grinding, Lili can help you there!" Lili pressed on, her expression brightening, and her eyes widening in delight. Probably at the thought, of there be a way for her to pay him back.

"Oh really, how so?" Azoth asked, a bemused smile on his face.

He wasn't an arrogant person by nature, and he didn't like to just assume things, but he honestly wasn't sure what the girl's angle was here. He was probably many times stronger than her, and vastly more experienced. Which made him curious about just how this girl thought she could help him?

"Well, Lili is a Supporter." Lili smiled, her expression expectant.

"Okay, so you support people in the Dungeons?" Azoth asked.

Lili's brow furrowed. "Does Mister Azoth not know what a Supporter is?"

"Ermm, I could hazard a guess from the name…" Azoth replied lamely, before his eyes narrowed. "Pipsqueak."

"It's Lili," Lili brushed him off, even as she let out a loud, exaggerated sigh. "And yes, as the name suggests, Supporters support Adventurers in the Dungeons, we carry their extra equipment and their supplies, and we collect the monster stones and drops. We make it easier for Adventurers to work."

"Huh, sounds useful." Azoth nodded.

"Yes!" The girl's smile brightened. "Most of the stronger groups of Adventurers bring along Supporters, as it means they can collect more stones and drop items, and so make more money."

"So, how about it, do you want a Supporter?" Lili asked again, a smile back on her face. "It'll help Mister Azoth out in the Dungeon, and if we split the reward, it will allow Lili to continue to make ends meet."

Azoth couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm.

She was an odd one, kind of like Finn. She looked like a child, but didn't act like one. It made reading her difficult, but at the same time, like Finn, he got good vibes from her.

"Yeah, go on then, short stack." Azoth shrugged after a few moments of thought. "I won't be going down that deep, and will only be down there for a few hours, though. So, there might not be much to split up."

"Lili understands, but work is still work." Lili nodded, her eyes narrowed. "And remember, Lili's name is Lili. So anyway, which floor were you thinking of going to?"

"The twelfth floor, maybe. I guess it depends on how long it takes." Azoth shrugged.

"Twelfth?" Lili asked, her eyes widening a fraction, before moments later her expression relaxed. "Is Azoth really that nervous about his date?"

Azoth shrugged. "Who knows, well come on then Lili, let head off. Time's a wastin."

With that said, he turned and once again started towards the Dungeon, only now with Lili scurrying along after him.

"So then, tell me about yourself, Lili?" Azoth asked as they walked.

"Well, Lili is Lili," Lili replied helpfully.

Azoth sent her a sideways glance. "Uh huh… I'd never have guessed…"

( - )

(With Liliruca Arde)

Liliruca Arde hated Adventurers.

She truly did.

It was an immutable fact that all Adventurers were selfish, vain arseholes. They thought only of themselves, and only worked for their own self-aggrandisement.

All of her life, she had been stepped on and pushed around.

First by the older and stronger members of Soma Familia, the Familia she had been born into, and then later by other Adventurers who spat on her, cheated her, and treated her like trash when she acted as a Supporter for them.

There were no good Adventurers out there.

She hated them all.

The one she was currently following, Azoth, was no different.

Sure, he had healed her the other day, and on the surface had seemed like a decent person.

But she knew better.

He hadn't helped her out of the kindness of his own heart.

There was always an ulterior motive, always, and in spite of his poor attempts at humour, and the way he had constantly tried to rile her up, she had worked out his motive quickly enough.

He'd done it to make himself look good in the eyes of the Loki Familia.

He saw that she was injured, and saw that they were nearby, and so he had stepped in before they could, all so he could be seen to be doing the right thing, and thus get garner himself some praise and recognition from one of the strongest Familias in Orario.

It was sickening.

At the time, she hadn't been sure just why that recognition had meant so much to him

But now, as she followed him into the Dungeon, and continued to dodge his probing questions, she knew.

Their conversation by the fountain had been quite illuminating, and had answered the remaining questions she had about just what it was that motivated him.

It was greed.

He was a novice blacksmith, a Level Two at best, and a newbie who had happened to get given a magic sword by some random goddess, and who now thought he was hot stuff.

He'd only made some armour, one set of which – which he himself had described as low level – already looked battle-scarred and damaged, and some cheap sword to act as a backup for the far superior magic sword he was given.

That was all he had to his name as a smith, two suits of armour and a sword.

It was nothing.

His other weapons, the dagger and the axe, they all looked impressive – and were probably given to him too –, but that was all.

Being the owner of a magic weapon herself, she could recognise a magic weapon on site, and neither of those weapons were magical. Instead, they were gaudy showpieces, that probably belonged on a wall somewhere, and not in the Dungeon.

They pretty much encapsulated him as an Adventurer.

All show and no substance.

Which again explained why he wanted the Loki Familia's attention.

He'd said it himself when they spoke.

He was poor and needed money and materials, and a lot of them.

Well, what better way for a smith to do that, then to form a contract with a powerful Adventurer, and who should he happen to show off in front of the other day but the Loki Familia, the home to some of the most powerful Adventurers in Orario.

It was all a game to him, a shortcut he could use to advance his position in his Familia, and to get all the attention and fame that came with that advancement.

Lili clicked her tongue at that, even as she once again gave him a fake smile and gave him a simple answer to yet another one of her probing questions.

Yes, despite his easy-going outer façade, she could see who he really was.

She didn't like Azoth.

He was a rude and arrogant show off.

An Adventurer through and through.

That said, he did have a very expensive looking magic sword...

Lili's eyes locked onto the glowing hilt of the blade, even as she followed the white haired elf into the Dungeon.

Her lips curved up into a smile.

Not that it would be his sword for that much longer.

( - )

AN: So what did you think? We have some Dungeon diving next chapter, and then a feast at the Loki Familia, which will be followed by a Denatus, and a bit of drama with the Loki Familia, Hephaestus Familia the Hostess of Fertility, and Bell Cranel. That's next chapter, and the chapter after that. Then the expeidition will begin, and the story will really start ramping up, as Azoth gets involved in the events of Sword Oratoria, even, as he weaves in and out of the main plot line. There is a lot of stuff I want to cover.

So stay tuned for more, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter and haven't been too put off by the slow update speed. Real life alas gets in the way, and as much as I enjoy writing, it's not a job, and not something I make any money off of.

Either way I am looking forward to writing more of this. Hopefully you enjoyed reading it, or continue to do so. If not then please tell what you didn't like, or what you thought could have been done better? Please leave a review, comment etc. If you have any questions or suggestions feel free to PM me.

Also I am on a discord with a load of other writers, so if you fancy popping over to ask questions or offer suggestions about this story, or any of my other ones, or to find new authors you might not have come across yet, please feel free to use the link in my bio.

Thanks for reading, and I'll see you later.

Greed720.