The Labyrinth City, Orario.
Known all across the world for the large hole that descended deep into the land. A labyrinth only called: The Dungeon. In truth, it was the main reason both the descended gods and mortals alike flocked to the city. All walks of life could be found there, be it a simple farmer trying to make it big, an artisan trying to sell their best works to the wealthy, or perhaps one looking to heal the injured, there was just no telling who would walk in one day.
Need anymore be said than that?
The gods had all the entertainment they could wish for in a place like Orario. However, there was one particular group in Orario that drew the attention of the gods and mortals more than any other, one that the entire city revolved around. Adventurers, those that braved the depths of the Dungeon. They were those that delved into the Dungeon for fortune, glory, a personal quest, political standing; truly every adventurer had a reason of their own.
Indeed, it was the perfect place to turn the page of one's life.
Those thoughts were none different for the woman who now trekked towards the great tower that served as the Dungeon's lid. The Tower of Babel.
She moved throughout the morning bustle without pause, one clearly acquainted with moving through the masses. Only the idle sway of crimson tendrils cascaded beyond her cloak. She had an undeniable air of confidence, experience, and… authority. Perhaps it was the wear of her attire that told enough of the battles she had faced before. But in a place like Orario, few would bat an eye. Only known by the name of Morgan to many, she was an individual whose past was as clouded as the features beneath her cloak.
However, Morgan was someone whose story was strange– unique, even by Orario's standards. After all, she was someone forever cursed to be godless in a world where those very beings walked among them.
The shadows of the past were not so easily avoided. There was no denying it. It was merely a matter of time.
'All it takes is a single spark. Stoke the flames too hot and expect to lose control. But such an inferno would surely glow in such a beautiful hue, don't you think~'
Morgan parted from the Exchange with her morning haul. A common sight if not for the unusually exasperated expression from the guild employee at its helm. In either case, Morgan didn't pay the stares any mind. Dawn was already upon the horizon and she wasn't the sort who liked to break her routine. Her reasoning was simple: the more time she spent in the Dungeon, the stronger she would get. In theory, anyway.
That, and it allowed her to avoid the afternoon lines.
Nevertheless, the short time she allowed herself between her delves into the Dungeon was not without purpose. Today was no different, or rather, it was until she heard a familiar voice lightly calling out. Her march soon came to a halt against the cobblestone, her cloak idly waving as she turned. A steely, calm gaze searched for the individual in her mind.
Adventurers, merchants, and ordinary citizens alike had since begun to start their days, hurring about, lost in their own worlds. Stepping back under the roof of the Guild Hall once more, her boots lightly echoed her steps as she spotted who she was looking for at a small cubicle away from the main counter.
It was her advisor, Rose Fannett.
The red-headed werewolf wasn't exactly one known for her kindness, but it hadn't taken long for Morgan to find out why. In fact, the werewolf herself had made it abundantly clear she disliked being assigned adventurers, like herself. Of all the advisors, she probably had the highest reassign rate, having constantly driven off most with her demeanor alone. However, Morgan did not blame the girl for her cold exterior. She worked in a profession where death was a real possibility for those under her care.
Morgan didn't need to guess, she was certain it was more of a defense mechanism than anything else. After all, few could withstand the pain of constantly losing those you cared for and walk out unscathed. And her case surely didn't help. As far as the Guild knew, she was a solo adventurer and that came with many risks; death, being the highest among them. That being said, Morgan could tell that the girl cared for her despite the ever-present stoic mask. The least she could do was humor the girl.
"Morgan-san," Rose began, her voice firm. "You're planning to descend deeper, aren't you?"
Morgan nodded, her expression unwavering. She would've been lying if a part of her didn't feel for Rose's circumstances, but there were goals she needed to reach. That left little she could offer as solace, even the promise of her return was uncertain in a place like the Dungeon. However, she offered it nonetheless; she was confident in her methods.
Unfortunately, the guildswoman wasn't of the same mentality.
"You've just returned from your last dive," Rose chided. "You need to rest."
A small smile graced her lips as she countered, "And let my skills rust? The Dungeon's depths wait for no one, Miss Rose."
Seeing that her words had fallen on deaf ears, Rose simply sighed, her gaze narrowing. "And you wonder why I question your promises to me? Saying you'll always come back in one piece is— is," she relented, "Ugh! Remind me to raise my bet on you kicking the bucket later!"
"Sure." Morgan replied, putting on a slight grin. "I'll be sure to bring back a souvenir for when I return too."
"I didn't– not you, Dimwit! To hell with it!" Rose shouted before slumping into her chair, face tinged pink. "I'll see you tomorrow. I'll make more money if you keep giving the others a false sense of security anyway."
Morgan chuckled. "Whatever you say. I'll see you later, Rose-san."
She had no intention of dying anytime soon and she was sure Rose knew that just the same deep down. It was part of why it was so easy to tease the girl. Turning away from Rose as she fell silent, her energy seemingly drained from the brief interaction, Morgan took that as her sign to set out once more.
As Morgan disappeared into the now bustling crowd, Rose couldn't help but watch her retreating figure as she leaned her head into her palm. Her chest felt strangely heavy. Even she had begun to acknowledge it as of late. Had she already grown so attached? Rose eventually shook her head at the notion as their latest interaction came to her mind.
Not in the slightest!
Rose had work to do, this wasn't the time to be so distracted with one adventurer.
Right?!
Rose hated this feeling, maybe it was time she took a day off herself…
"Aaaouuu-"
In one swift motion, Morgan felled the hellhound before her, her blade easily slicing the beast in twain. Extending her grip on the haft of her weapon, she casually arced it around into the path of the two hellhounds approaching from behind with similar ease. As the fatal blows turned the nearby monsters to ash, only the faint creak and groan of the Dungeon walls remained.
Easing her stance as the Dungeon appeared to relent, she quickly picked up the stones the creatures left behind. It had been like this all day. Unlike days prior, today, the Dungeon was just… slow.
"For hellhounds, they sure haven't impressed at all." Morgan mumbled under her breath.
Floor Fourteen. A couple hours had passed since she arrived on it. By all means, it was a new floor she had yet to fully explore, but the difficulty had yet to reach her. Out of all the creatures she knew of, she hadn't even encountered a single new one today.
Rose had already lectured her on everything she could encounter up to the Twentieth Floor. But, she had a process, her methodical conquest of the floors had a purpose. Time consuming as it was, growing acquainted with the lay of the land was an important step to exploring safely. Morgan had heard enough of the tales of adventurers who bit off more than they could chew.
Just the same, however, she felt she wasn't improving much either. She relished a challenge and enjoyed fighting as much as any other warrior; perhaps a bit more than most, but this floor was not where she'd find it. Morgan knew that much. Floor Fifteen was the true goal.
From everything she had learned, the Fifteenth Floor supposedly had a dramatic spike in difficulty in comparison to all the prior floors. Many monsters were classified as Level Two individually, they spawned even faster, and the floor was that much larger. Going solo into the Middle Floors as a Level Two was more or less a death wish.
But, that's where her conundrum arose. Even with the added fact that she was currently exploring on her lonesome, the excelia she was acquiring wasn't all that impressive. If she wanted to continue growing, she was going to have to change the methods she used to traverse the Dungeon. Fully exploring floors that could exceed even the size of Orario itself simply wasn't realistic if she wanted to improve at a reasonable rate. Luckily for her, those aforementioned methods were soon to change.
From the Fifteenth Floor onward, she would have to both descend deeper and know just enough of the next floor to not get killed. A fine line to balance. Her experience of a floor would now come as she made her way to the next. It was the reality of the situation as the floors got progressively larger and had more unexplored regions.
Morgan then turned around and began to walk. As enticing as the next step was, she wasn't going to take it just yet. She would finish the current floor soon, she could afford to be a patient for a little while longer. For now, she would return, service her gear, and make the proper preparations for her next descent.
Taking her time to find a place relatively defensible, Morgan eventually settled down into a small alcove and began to unpack her equipment. While being alone had its downsides, it also meant that she always had a little bit of everything with her at any given moment. Placing a whetstone atop a nearby boulder, she grabbed the other odds and ends she needed to clean up her weapon.
Letting off a long breath, Morgan let her gaze wander across the blade– her reflection. Trailing her fingers across the peerless metal, she felt the thinly veiled memories of the past resurface.
She remembered the day the blade was made like it was yesterday. It had been specially designed for her style of combat. Not quite the blade of a spear or glaive, but neither the handle of a sword, it was more a combination of the two. The smith who created it was a humble man who dedicated his life to the craft, she recalled their interactions vividly. Even now, she still found herself amused at his words, although she never did figure whether they were meant for her or the sake of her weapon.
But, they weren't the only memories that resurfaced, they never were.
Her expression didn't take long to fall solemn. The echoes of the past were always just beneath the veneer. Although recent times may have been kind to her appearance, her mind still raced across the bloodied battlefields, a malevolent rage steeped in each phantom strike. A blood tax was not so easily paid– a reminder as to why she was on the path she was.
Morgan released a heavy breath and felt her mind return to the present as the groans of the Dungeon reverberated once more. She had wasted enough time. Quickly wiping a cloth across the rest of the blade, the thoughts of the past went along with it. There may have been no chips or rolls, but it was due for a sharpening. Pouring a small bit of water from her flask across the whetstone, she began to slowly drive the blade back and forth.
The ambience of the Dungeon never ceased, but nothing had come to disturb her in her little pocket of rock and stone. Standing up with a stretch, Morgan let her tails swing about, allowing the appendages to air out some before she re-equipped her gear. Up on the surface, there was little opportunity to do so without drawing attention.
Although her cloak could hide the pair of tails at her back and cause the ears atop her head to be mistaken for another races', it was a difficult act to maintain. After all, she was a renard, and she knew well of the reputation they carried. The skill that caused her to grow another tail was testament to that, and in a vast city like Orario, people like her had to be mindful.
Despite the many other reasons she wished to get stronger, it was another one to add to the list. The last thing she wanted to deal with was a god trying to claim her as theirs or anything else of the sort. Not that they could, in a sense, her curse ensured that. But that wouldn't stop a Familia of theirs from locking her down in other ways. The sheer number and potential level advantage made things difficult if she were to come to blows with any given Familia.
Eventually, Morgan stood, a light grumble escaping her as her cloak wrapped back over her person once more. She had rested for long enough, it was time to surface.
The return trip was never one quite as long as the descent. Morgan knew the layout of the Upper Floors like the back of her hand. Even if she had to take down a couple monsters along the way, she knew how best to avoid them by this point. Aside from the odd item drop, their stones simply weren't worth collecting anymore.
Not to mention, given the amount of adventurers roaming these floors at this time of day, she would only be hindering their progress. There was little reason for someone with her Status to clear the area. At least, that was usually the case…
When she arrived onto the Tenth Floor, its entire atmosphere reeked. As she made her way through the floor, her nose only scrunched further. There was a particular scent among the others that gave her pause—
A monster lure?!
She grumbled and picked up her pace. Although the scent of monster blood was also thick, it wasn't the only one. There wasn't a lot of it; likely just one person, but there was another adventurer still on this floor. As cruel as the Dungeon was, this was not something ordained by it.
"LILIII!"
In the end, people could be just as cruel; if not worse, than anything the Dungeon had to offer.
She knew that. She knew it well. Although she did not enjoy taking on other people's battles, she had a thing about young buds getting nipped too early. With those monster lures untended, this area was soon to be overrun. People may very well die if these monsters are allowed to roam en masse.
Dashing forward, Morgan hacked apart the beasts as they came. Quickly eliminating each creature one by one, she searched. If she was lucky, she could find and destroy the lures. If she wasn't, then she would just keep fighting until the lures ran dry. Before long, she began to clear a path towards the panicked adventurer. She would only have an easier time fending everything off if they were out of the way.
They sounded like a boy, still early in his years and one who hadn't yet carried the weight of experience. A prime target for people to abuse and a prime target for monsters to overwhelm. He was already starting to get encircled by the time she arrived, but she had made it in time.
He appeared to have stark white hair and ruby-red eyes. In a way, he didn't look too different from an almiraj at a cursory glance. However, it was clear he was distracted and she didn't know why. He couldn't have picked a worse time, frankly.
Focusing her senses, Morgan heard the clear chatter of the infamous "newbie killer" congregating beyond the floor entrance. Following the boy's gaze, she nodded to herself as the understanding came. This boy's battle was elsewhere.
Shooting past the white-haired boy, Morgan made her presence known. The nearby beasts turned to ash, much to the bewilderment of the boy. She glanced over to him beneath her hood, her tone clear.
"What are you waiting for, Boy. Get moving. You still have something to take care of, don't you?"
The boy stumbled to his feet, seemingly both frightened and grateful. "Y-yes ma'am!" he stuttered.
Watching as the boy began to run off, Morgan let out a breath and turned to face the monsters once more. Blocking the way out off the floor like a guard to a gate, she merely readied her stance. "Let's see if any of you are worth my time."
Minutes passed, and the scents of the lures were fading. She had given up on looking and intentionally let them run their course for no other purpose than curiosity. Although no enhanced species or similar anomalies came, something else was coming. A rising wind that hung in the air. Something that could challenge her. Her curiosity peaked.
Turning to face the presence, she felt confusion strike faster than any blade could ever have.
"The Sword Princess?"
Ais Wallenstein, Level Five, a First-Class Adventurer of the Loki Familia. A blonde-haired, human woman who held the current record for the fastest level up. So what was she doing down here… looking like a lost puppy for?
Their gazes met. Morgan would've been lying if she hadn't wanted to try her hand at a spar, but her mind had won itself over in the end. She lowered her weapon. There was a reason the Sword Princess was down here, and if she had to guess, she was–
Ais tipped her head. "Another adventurer?" Ais lowered her weapon just the same. "Have you seen a white-haired boy about this tall? I was told he'd be around this floor, but…" she eventually said with a hand estimating the boy's height.
Morgan nodded. She understood what was going on now, not that it took much to figure out now. Perhaps that boy was a newbie of the Loki Familia and got in over his head trying to impress? If so, it made sense why he would be targeted by an ambush then. A prestigious Familia member like theirs was bound to have decent gear, wealth, and more.
Morgan looked to Ais and to the floor exit aways off. "One of yours?" she called back. She was curious, albeit somewhat concerned. Surely Ais would've noticed him returning to the surface… then again, she was known to be quite the airhead. If someone said he was around this floor, she probably took it at face-value.
Ais shook her head. "No, a friend of his asked me for a favor. She was worried something was going to happen to him."
Morgan nodded and then perked up a bit. For this boy to have a friend capable of asking someone like Ais for a favor, it was something notable. But, her job here was done. Although she was certain there was more to this story, someone like the Sword Princess could handle a rescue far more efficiently than she could.
"Well," Morgan began, crushing one of the depleted monster lures beneath her boot, "someone seemed to have it out for him."
Ais appeared to get the memo, glancing around as if to find the culprits. "Where–"
"But, I think he's fine. He wasn't too hurt when I saved him. Kid ran off pretty well once I dealt with the monsters." Morgan explained, interrupting Ais before she could get too distracted. She trusted her instincts. The boy wouldn't die.
Ais appeared to believe her words without much hesitation, her demeanor slightly less gloomy than before. "So it's not just me?"
If not for her enhanced hearing, Morgan might not have heard what Ais mumbled. Although, it didn't really explain what she meant by it either. Morgan opted to let the thought go a moment later, making her way past Ais. What Ais did from here wasn't her business.
"Wait." Ais called.
Morgan tipped her head to the side, her ears turning to match. "I'm listening."
Ais gave a small bow. "Thank you for helping him."
Morgan waved it off, her tone seemingly indifferent. "I just happened to be in the right place at the right time, nothing more."
As Morgan continued to walk, she felt the gaze that had been on her slowly fade. She had noticed it a bit after Ais arrived. Something else was also on the floor alongside them, but she couldn't quite pinpoint it. Whatever it was, it was good at keeping itself hidden.
Surfacing, the low glow of the evening light now washed over Orario as the magic stone lamps slowly began to flicker online. Morgan released a light sigh. She had spent more time than anticipated down below. Without her usual patronage, it's more than likely the little off-the-grid pub that she liked to frequent had closed up for the night. And the quieter places at this time of day that weren't super shady were few and far between.
Not that Morgan necessarily minded the alternatives she had found in her; relatively speaking, short time among the city. Rather, it just meant her coin purse was going to be lighter that night. Lively atmospheres tended to have that effect on her, though for different reasons nowadays. Still, Morgan resolved to dine somewhere tonight, she would be ill-prepared for the day ahead without a proper meal and drink.
Meandering through the streets as common-folk and adventurers alike began to coop up for a long night of rest, she passed a fair number of establishments before eventually arriving at the foot of the "Benevolent Mistress". Some called it that anyway, others opted for the "Hostess of Fertility". Regardless of its naming situation, it was a pub well known. And what could she say, its reputation preceded it… plus it was also one of the few places large enough that you almost never needed a reservation.
Now that she thought about it, though, this was actually her first time looking in with the intent of being a customer. Perhaps it was all the secondhand conversation she's heard over the weeks that made her think otherwise. Stepping inside, the light of the pub seemed to grow alongside the chatter, business appeared to be going well to say the least.
Glancing around, it didn't take long to see why. Loki Familia. Anyone not living under a rock knew about the expedition they had recently returned from. Considering how short it was, it was no surprise they'd be pumping themselves up afterwards if it went poorly. For some, all it takes is a good meal to bring morale back up, even more so amongst friends and allies.
Distracted as she was by the wealthy patrons, her body halted her stride as a waitress came into view. With a slight bow, they greeted her.
"Welcome to the Hostess. Seat for one?" the woman greeted, her lime-colored hair and elven ears in plain view. A short and simple type if her demeanor was anything to go by.
The elf certainly had a presence to her with the way her eyes scanned her. It was only a moment, but the intent was clear to a keen eye, the waitress was looking out for anything troublesome. Given the reason she was here, the elf was quick to dismiss her gaze and motioned to follow.
"Yes, thank you." Morgan replied, internally sighing as they arrived at the bar seat. If there was one thing the Loki Familia did know how to do, it was drink. She knew the pub wasn't going to exactly be quiet going in, but she didn't expect to have to sit besides the source of the noise either.
Shifting her sights to the waitress, the girl appeared to soften her expression somewhat. "Apologies. Due to the obvious, we don't have too many free seats. When you're ready I'll mark your beverages and Mama Mia will handle your food when she has a moment."
Morgan just nodded, her shoulders dropping for a moment. "It's not your fault," she said with a small huff, eyeing the menu. The prices were certainly a little higher than she was used to, but it wasn't like she couldn't afford to splurge a bit and make them work for the coin. A lot of these meals did sound quite good though, she had to admit. Looking over the beverage section, the same could be said about the drinks as the food.
Granting a final nod to herself, Morgan turned back to the elven waitress. "A pint of Amberjack, Firelily, and that local favorite of yours." The waitress nodded, jotting it down on a small notepad. As the elf began to walk away, she recalled the fact that she never got her name and quickly spoke to amend that. "Oh, and what's your name?"
The elf turned slightly and bowed. "I forget my manners, forgive me. You can refer to me as Ryuu."
She waved off the first part. "No harm done, I'll be here when the drinks are ready."
Ryuu returned a nod and made way for her attention to shift to the large dwarven mistress handling the bar stove in front of her. Not only was she dressed differently to the others, but she carried herself differently as well. There was no doubt in her mind that this person was the famous owner of the tavern, Mama Mia.
The mere moment she appeared ready to order, the hulking woman was already glancing in her direction. Not that she was surprised really, it was her job as the owner to catch every customer possible, but talk about speedy service. Hell, she could already spot her drinks on the way too. Tipping her head to meet the woman's eyes before her thoughts got any more distracted, she received a subtle nod in recognition.
Stepping over to her seat, Mama Mia appeared to give her a once over and smiled. "You're not a face I recognize," she mused, pointing to herself with a thumb. "My name's Mia Grande and I'm the owner of this tavern, but you can just call me Mama Mia like everyone else. Nice to meet ya. Now, what's your name, Hun?"
Spotting Ryuu suddenly beside her, the waitress softly began to set each drink down as they spoke. Offering a faint thanks, she obliged the owner's inquiry without much thought. "Likewise. You can refer to me as Morgan." A subtle pause hung between them for a moment before Mia began to put on a now intrigued smile.
"Say, you don't happen to be that one Level Two who came into the city and has been driving Rose up the wall since?" Mia questioned, idly flipping one of the meals she had been working on.
"Perhaps I am, perhaps not." She said, shrugging. Internally, however, she was seriously questioning if that really was her reputation around here? Then again, maybe that wasn't so bad, it definitely beat some of the other alternatives she could think of. "By the way, I'm ready to order whenever."
Mia quirked a brow at the reply but kept her usual grin. "Well, go on then. People tend to be more chatty after they've eaten a good meal anyway."
Morgan returned a faint smirk of her own. "So you say. I missed my usual dinner, so I'm looking forward to seeing if your reputation upholds itself."
"Oh-hoh, is that so?" Mia rest her elbow on the bar counter, meeting her eye to eye. It didn't take a genius to see that a good portion of the nearby tables appeared to take note of the interaction. Few challenged the owner of the Hostess in such a manner.
"I didn't stutter. I'll be getting one of every special. Tallying it up," Morgan began, haphazardly setting down a bag of valis, "that should cover it and then some, keep the change."
Mia picked up the sack, seemingly calculating the amount just by feeling alone. Letting out a hardy chuckle, she began to pick up her pace on the grill. "I like your spunk, you got it, one of each special coming up."
As their banter settled, Morgan sat idly, casually sipping from one of the pints in front of her. She felt the eyes of those around her begin to fade and return to their own devices, much to her content. After all, little could take attention off the Loki Familia for long. Glancing over the bar top to Mama Mia and the grill, she watched the fruits of the woman's experience at work. The words of the town weren't for show. There really was something about her and the girls that all worked here that put one at ease in one way or another.
Well, as much as one could be besides the babbling of drunken idiots. In a topical manner, the low hic and grumble of the werewolf behind Morgan was particularly hard to miss.
Tipping his chair back while chugging another mug of an unknown beverage, it was clear to almost anyone that he was probably the most hammered one there. Legs raised and crossed on the table, the man clearly held himself as someone who saw themselves above most others. Indeed, there was no doubt about it, it was Bete Loga, a Level 5 Adventurer of the Loki Familia.
The werewolf was doing well to drink away the annoyances of their latest expedition, but some would also argue he might've been going a little off the deep end. But, unlike the last time he was here, he wasn't causing anyone else problems. At least, until his sharp scent picked up on a familiar scent. A scent that quick to send his drunken mind hurdling with misconceptions.
"Rose?" he questioned. "Why do ya got hic the faint scent of death on ya, you become one of those adventurers you hate so much or hic are you just tryna impress me a-after everything to tryn' get back together?"
That, seemed to get the attention of a couple nearby tables, but none more than his very own of the Loki Familia. To his credit, Morgan had spent a short while with Rose earlier and was in the Dungeon to boot. It was an easy misunderstanding to reach for a demi-human with such enhanced senses. However, something about his bitter and egotistical tone annoyed Morgan.
Morgan wasn't going to judge Rose's past relationships, but she could hazard her line of thinking nonetheless. She felt she had a solid grasp on the girl by this point, and while she originally planned to ignore him and hold her tongue, the drunken hand that reached for her hood took any reservations she had off the table in an instant.
"Oi, I'm talkin' to you! Quit ignoring hic me!" Bete slurred out. "And what's with the stupid cloak-!"
"Uh-oh, here he goes again…"
"Bete, you're drunk, try not to cause… problems-"
Instinctually, Morgan's hand was already moving; an act that would make any elf in the immediate vicinity proud. A fist that quickly bonked the werewolf over the head, knocking him from the already off-balance chair to the floor.
Regardless of their level disparity, she made her point clear as she turned. Her canines bared in annoyance as she bored down at the werewolf now rubbing his head with a slight groan. Naturally, he was relatively unharmed by such a hit, but it was the words that followed that dealt damage the Status couldn't protect against.
"First off, my name isn't Rose, it's Morgan. And secondly, even if I were Rose, I doubt she'd want anything more to do with a drunkard like yourself, Wolfboy." Morgan spat in retort.
The pub quieted once again as the red-head took center stage once again. Few had the gall to talk to someone in the Loki Familia in such a manner; drunk or not, to a point it even surprised his own table. However, before tensions could rise any further, the laugh of his fellow compatriots quickly cut it apart.
"Haha, y-you see that Tione!"
"Poor little puppy got his feelings hurt~"
"Lad had it coming to him, I suppose."
"Now, now, let's not cause too much more of a ruckus, we wouldn't want Mia to give us another fee…"
As soon as the brief moment of shock passed, the prominent members of the Loki Party were already on clean-up duty. The Amazon Twins quickly began to tie up their wayward werewolf, stringing him up like a pinata with merry laughs the whole while, almost as if this wasn't the first time they've done this. The dwarven executive merely held a smirk as he chugged down another ale. The blonde pallum gave a placated glance to Mama Mia, his eyes occasionally darting to the red-head beneath her apparel with an intrigued smile.
However, what was strange, was the lack of any response from their resident elven executive. Normally, she would be the first to decide when somebody was cut off and punish them accordingly, but instead, she merely stared at the red-head as if lost in thought. An action not unnoticed by her surprisingly perceptive goddess and… Ais, of all people.
"Riveria, is everything okay? You seem…" Ais tipped her head, searching for the right words. "—to be staring?" Definitely not the right words.
Goddess Loki was many things, but she was not one to miss the rare chance to tease her Royal Highness. Even if it was unintentional, she looked at her blonde prodigy with a proud smile. The kind that approved of the misconstruing words. "You'll have to be more subtle than that Mama Elf, even Aisy-poo caught you staring. Oh~! Is that why you haven't gotten into a relationship yet, you're actually into– euuu!"
The culprit of Loki's sudden silence… an empty mug over the top of the goddess's head by the aforementioned elf. "You misunderstand! Another word out of you and I'm taking away your alcohol privileges for a week!" There she was, the judge and jury that was Nine Hell, albeit with the subtlest pink tinged in her cheeks.
Loki groaned in similar fashion to her pinata of a werewolf, holding her head with a smug, shit-eating grin. A sharp eye passing over the red-headed adventurer, her gaze settled onto her elven princess once more.
That wasn't a no either! More ammunition to throw Mama Elf's way was always welcome, I'll have to thank that red-head sometime.
Unaware to Loki's internal antics, Ais shifted back to the adventurer who returned to eating at the bar. "Do you know them, Riveria?" she asked curiously, trying to remember why she seemed familiar. Truly an airhead.
"No." Riveria immediately answered as she looked over to Ais, only to pause for a moment as Loki's presence came to mind. "Or rather, I don't think so. I'd rather not jump to conclusions." Riveria added, her poker face finally returning.
"Mmm. Okay." Ais mused unquestioning, dropping the thought entirely as a potato dish was dropped in front of her.
Loki cupped her head in her palm and glanced around the table. The others were too busy with Bete to really notice, but she opted to hold her tongue as her godly intuition called out the high elf's words.
Mama Elf is not usually the type to lie if it wasn't necessary, so why was she beating around the bush so much?
"If you're not sure Lady Riveria, then why not just ask them? You can always apologize if you're wrong." a young, ginger-haired elf innocently commented as she sipped at her beverage.
Loki looked at her other child with a wide grin. That was exactly what she wanted to ask, but she would've expected Riveria to simply ignore her questions, but Lefiya's was another matter entirely. The girl was probably one of the last to have any ulterior motives and was already the mage's student as it were.
Riveria sipped at her own beverage, casually shifting to her teacher tone as she placed the cup down. "I like to verify my information first, you should know that more than anyone, Lefiya." Riveria explained to the ginger-haired elf, dodging the question again. "What good a teacher would I be if I didn't educate you with that in mind."
Loki narrowed her eyes before picking up another mug. The situation had her interest before, but now it had her attention. Loki never thought she'd run into some seemingly random adventurer that had history with Riveria of all people. That was no easy feat, so much so, even someone like her had to take a moment to acknowledge it. That wasn't even to say anything of Riveria's avoidance of the questions either.
Loki's mind only asked one thing: So just who-
"Sorry to intrude, Riveria-sama." Ryuu interrupted, seemingly unaware of the mental debates going on around her. Softly placing a drink in front of Riveria, Ryuu moved to walk away but paused as the high elf spoke out.
"I didn't…?"
"Another adventurer said you looked like you could use it; their words, their coin." Ryuu quietly explained.
Riveria blinked a couple times, momentarily perplexed, before a faint whiff of the beverage finally came up to her nose. "... tell them I said thanks." There was a faint expression of recognition in her eyes.
Ryuu simply nodded and continued to serve the other tables as if nothing happened. But Loki knew, she knew what the beverage really meant and she'd bet her best wine that she knew who it was from as well. Riveria never accepted drinks from others, no matter how expensive the make was. She knew, she's tried. Why would that change now? Loki had to give credit where it was due– this girl was different. Whatever history this Morgan and Riveria had, it was something the elf respected a great deal.
"Alright girlies, let's stop pestering Mama Elf. I'm sure she'll speak up about it if it's important." Loki intervened, cutting off any further questions on the topic, much to Riveria's surprise. Loki would've been lying if she didn't want to see how this played out, but it was far more interesting this way. After all, it was things like this that made gods like her descend to the Lower World. She smiled one of those no-good scheming smiles, unbeknownst to nearly everyone around as they fussed over other matters.
Morgan held a content expression as the Trickster Goddess spoke. The patron had more decency than she thought. Considering everything she's heard about the patron; nanely her eccentricities, she was pleasantly surprised.
I'll be sure to tip her a drink sometime.
As for her situation with Riveria, she had no doubt they would find a better time and place to catch up. Tuning out the Loki Familia after the thought, Morgan took the last bite out of the special in front of her. "One more to go, right?" Morgan said with an expectant look to Mama Mia.
"Yeah, are ya ready to concede that we're the best pub around?" Mia retorted, placing the last special on the countertop. Mia was happy to finally serve someone who knew how to eat. Adventurers needed to stop being so reserved, they never knew when their next meal would be their last. At least, that's what she reasoned to herself… plus, it made her more money.
"I will concede that your food is some of the best I've found in this city." Morgan admitted, her gaze locked to the food in front of her. "Definitely one of the better pubs if you're looking for a lively atmosphere."
Mia nodded knowingly. "Well, that's what I strive for, sulking in a quiet bar isn't quite to my tastes."
Morgan quirked a brow. "Think you've got a read on me already?"
"Somethin' like that, could be wrong though."
"Hm. Well, I'll let you keep guessing."
Mia smirked. "I get the feeling you and I will get along. You should know we serve breakfast and lunch too, so be sure to keep coming back and-"
"Spending money." Morgan finished, meeting the dwarf's gaze. "I'll bite. I'll be sure to stop in now and then."
Mia Grande just grinned even wider.
After retiring from the Benevolent Mistress for the night, Morgan slowly made her way back to the small flat she had bought a few weeks prior. It wasn't anything impressive, but it was more than enough for her current circumstances. Being on the edge of an abandoned district, few came and went. It was a quiet place.
Eventually arriving at the door blended into the greenery and ruins, Morgan raised her hand to the handle with an exhausted breath. Another long day to finally be home from. Twisting the handle, she felt it give way with unusual ease, causing her to suddenly perk up as the door was pulled open.
Morgan's surprise quickly turned to a smile as she stepped forward. She was a solo adventurer– as far as everyone else knew.
"So, you finally finished up your business in Melen, then…" Morgan concluded, her eyes meeting the heterochromic pair before her. "Alfia?"
A/N: Firstly, I'd like to thank any of you who decided to give this a go. Admittedly, I'm unsure when I'll be able to update this as I tend to dislike what I put together weeks later, but the idea had been swirling around my head for a it after I came up with a character I really enjoyed using for another piece of media so here it is. You may even be able to guess or spot out references to her inspirations too! Do tell you catch them haha.
With that all said, I certainly have heavy apsirations in my head but we'll see how it goes to putting it to paper- er document. Of course, as a fanwork this is certainly AU and will have some elements differing from canon, but hopefully y'all find everything interesting!
Feel free to leave a follow, review, or constructive thoughts, until next time!