CH11: Making Friends

On the steps of a winding staircase leading hopefully out of the dungeon, a wolfman dressed in mismatched leather armor and a hyena with a heavy mace and wearing rags battled the hordes. Two bodies, one bleeding out and the other unmoving, baited the undead. I counted around 50 bodies between me and the half-fallen party.

I didn't know why I stepped out of cover. The group didn't look like ritualistic madmen hellbent on stitching corpses together and then autistically yelling about their woes to the empty air. Maybe I wanted to try conversing with the locals instead of murdering them. Regardless I moved in behind the horde and started killing them one after the other with my black spear.

There was an ability my spear had that wasn't mentioned. The metal consumed the gore and grease before it could make my hands slippery. It wasn't something I was very aware of until I nearly slit on a patch of rotten fat. While the bleeder on the stairs held the horde's attention, I managed to slay the undead one after the other, like culling chicks in a hatchery.

Drops appeared, but I had no time to get to them, and I only noticed a few faint blue glows. By my 20th kill, the horde finally seemed to understand there was danger. I raced across them, stabbing like a maniac killing undead like a machine.

By the time the last one dropped, the two standing members of the fallen party looked at me with mixed feelings. The wolfman's bronze eyes seemed to shift from me to the weapon, and the hyena laughed.

"Sorry, thank you for helping us, stranger. Did you want to use the stairs?" The hyena asked.

"You'll wait until we get our friends out of this dungeon." The wolfman snarled.

I pointed my spear down and raised a hand.

"Hey, fella, don't worry. I smelled the blood. Is there anything I can do to help? My name is Vincent Hawk; who do I have the pleasure of speaking with." I asked.

I added pleasure at the end to put them more at ease. The hyena laughed again, then coughed.

"Apologies, I am Azizi, and the territorial one here is Hati. You seem to have had an easier time than us. We have wounded and could help get them up the stairs." Azizi said.

That pissed me off a little. Who said I had an easy time? While I did get a lucky drop, it was from a boss dropped chest. I sighed and muddled through the drops finding a nice-looking coat of chainmail.

Magic Chainmail lvl2

+25DEF

-80% Electric DEF

+9 CON

+5 END

I slipped the coat on and locked it into place with straps on my gambeson. My stats jumped again, and having a little more protection felt good. I found a nice-looking sheath for my spear and strapped it readily to my back. There weren't any boosts for it, but I didn't have to hold my spear constantly.

"The dungeon must believe it can reclaim the loot it's given you at any time for your carelessness," Hati growled.

"Maybe, but it looks like I'm leaving with the two of you," I said.

"Who invited you along? You can't replace Yogi and Salt?" Hati said.

I found some potions on the ground and took off my backpack to quickly add them. They were healing potions that boosted regeneration. I found a green potion to resist disease and tossed it to Azizi.

"Don't take that we won't owe more debt to this stranger," Hati said.

"Relax, friend. I helped you out because it was the thing to do in the dungeon. We can't be every man for themselves here, or it will eat us alive." I said.

"That is a pleasant way to look at the world," Azizi said.

The giggles from the hyena quieted down as I killed the undead that walked in. Azizi gave the potions I tossed her to the downed members of her party.

"I would like to live up to it here. Let me help you guys out, and in return, maybe you can help me. I'm new to this place and could use a guide." I said.

It was a risk. I didn't know if they would betray me, but I couldn't move forward without reaching out. They weren't human, but I had to trust someone.

"So if we show you around, you will consider our debts repaid?" Hati asked.

"See, not everyone is out to get you." Azizi smacked her mace in her palm. "Besides, if he tries anything, Bertha will get him," Azizi said.

That mace was covered in blood and spiked. Azizi swung it one-handed like a wooden spoon. I didn't want to get hit by chain mail or not. Sure, I could kill them both, but that was no way to integrate into a community and find a way to make real money. Selling equipment to pawn shops would only line someone else's pocket. According to the emails on my phone, there were materials in these worlds that could be sold to the Sect for direct currency.