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Sacrifices had to be made.

Then again, Ekri the Tailor could be playing with her. Maybe he enjoyed toying with his food with all these extravagant moves, working up an appetite before he feasted.

Or maybe he was another one of those fantastic weirdos. It was interesting how quirky these special fantasy folks seemed to act when going on adventures in another world.

This was probably Zarian’s fault somehow. Naomi didn’t know why, but blaming him seemed best.

Meanwhile, Ekri yammered on, gassing her up with flattering compliments.

“Yes, yes, perfect. Step there. Step here. Feel for how I lead you. Don’t anticipate. Let yourself flow, encouraging your partner, making him or her feel they are in total control. Let them see your beauty, like the petals of a rose. Let them see your shine, like the polish of a pearl. Let them see the surface, and not what dangers lurk underneath!”

“You’re falling in love with me or what?” Naomi asked with a drawl, which she might’ve picked up from Gilbert’s North Floridian ways or Hannah when her Alabamian roots peaked through. The English became weirder when Bianca had infected Naomi with her Spanglish.

Gilbert’s accent was more interesting, since it was a refusal to conform to Miamian practices. He had that small-town redneck energy to him. His accent had a stickiness that lingered. And it helped get one’s point across.

Give it a few more days and battles together, and Naomi would ease up on watching Gilbert carefully. She just wanted to be doubly sure that he wouldn’t try anything funny to betray Zarian.

“You’re distracted, dear!” Ekri called out.

Naomi corrected her ‘malfunction,’ which was one of those funny Marine phrases that called out someone for screwing up.

She directed a frown up at the tall drider’s face. All six of his hands held her gentlemanly at different points as they moved around.

He had her where he wanted her. What would he do once the dance ended and he had to fork over his end of the bargain?

In the background, Naomi heard crunches and squishes. Her skeletal minions were beating down another curious spider that wandered into her private dance session with an evil-looking fellow in a nice three-piece suit.

Finally, Ekri the Tailor moved Naomi into a twirl, flourish, and dip to finish the routine. She tried not to let that get to her, but she had to admit Ekri was smooth.

Zarian should learn a thing or two from the drider, but not more than that. Ekri had too much of that silky and sticky charm that could lead to some real bad trouble, case in point:

“As for your question about me falling in love. Hahaha. Me? Fall in love? Well, if there’s anyone who could warm my icy heart, perhaps it would be you and your enchanting grace and deadliness. But no, no, I cannot love again. That wound still bleeds, my dear.”

Naomi softened her stance toward the tailor, going for a different approach. “Look, all that coaching was interesting. Can’t say if it’ll help me later or not in a System bent on game logic and fights. But I agreed because you’ll tell me about your client.”

“Ah, yes, yes, I didn’t let that slip my mind. Forgive me if I gave that impression.” Ekri straightened his tie, which was big, poofy, and different from ties back on Earth.

There were many little details that made his suit unique compared to Earthling fashion. Naomi wondered what the fashion sense in this world and across Infinita would look like.

Ekri folded all six arms behind his back. “I can’t tell you much or I may accrue some disapproval from certain gods. But I can say that the Grimrock Warlock is a worried goblin woman. Corrupted beyond belief, yes, but she retains some semblance of her prior mental faculties. She puts on a good front, but deep down I can taste it.”

“Taste what?” Naomi asked.

“Deep and disgusting insecurity, her biggest weakness. Which makes her a wonderful customer, I must admit! I make her feel pretty with my tailored crafts, and she pays me from the old treasury the orcs left stocked up in Grimrock.” Ekri looked away in a seemingly random direction. “And I get to pay the White Spider Dungeon a visit, which is quite the bonus when I’m far from home.”

Naomi had two paths of inquiry. She could dig for more about the Grimrock Warlock. Or she could dig further into Ekri the Tailor.

She went for the more interesting option – something Zarian would do: “What’s so special about this dungeon other than it sharing some features with you?”

“Ah, well, there’s plenty special!” Ekri cheered with renewed spirit. “For example, the origins of this dungeon came from the cavern city nation, Carrowmore, far north of here under the Coldboot Castle Mountains! Carrowmore is my home city and primary hub of business.”

Ekri the Tailor flicked out a business card made of some fancy material. It had a magic presence to it that made Naomi’s fingers tingle when he passed the card to her hand.

He continued, all six hands moving with enthusiasm. “It’s quite the place. Socially, it’s the best city for a night out across all the lands of the Walled Continent. Of course, it’s preferable when you’re in the higher levels, especially when you’ve achieved your first class advancement and shed the newbie stink off of you.”

Ekri spread his arms wide. “From there, you’ll have lots to do in and out and around and even above Carrowmore. You can break into the Level 100s if you’re truly and extremely talented. A majority of our Level 100s ascend through Carrowmore, in fact, at least on this continent.”

Ekri leaned close, one hand to his fanged mouth. He whispered, “Beware, however, for the underground city nation is built on foundations made of corpses. Corpses so plentiful it is said that the entire bedrock beneath Carrowmore and the castle mountains of Coldboot are nothing but corpses.”

Naomi used her Tranquil Mind at max power to keep from shivering. The pressure from Ekri’s higher level came down hard on her. She didn’t need the Identify trait to know he was seventy or eighty levels above her. Maybe more.

She felt like a fly caught on a web. Then the pressure pulled back, and she took a slow breath through her gritted teeth. Somehow, she was still alive.

Why was Ekri being so nice to her when he was evil?

What would Zarian do against this madness? He would probably say something stupid and revealing, wouldn’t he? Maybe being illogical was logical in this crazy place. Worrying about operational security seemed too mundane here, too safe.

“We’re heading to a town west of here,” Naomi asked, pausing, before taking another Zarian-like gamble. “Then we might head back this way to pay the Grimrock Warlock a visit.”

Ekri looked at her with a smile that scared her deep down. Even Tranquil Mind couldn’t help her much now.

“I recommend, my dear, you reach Level 40, and get your first class advancement out of the way. You can do so by heading further west of Bramblevale, which is the castle town you’re seeking, and hit the dungeons there. Get to Level 50 in the next couple of years or so if you’re truly talented and forget about the Grimrock Warlock. Instead, come see me in Carrowmore. Write to me first, so I’ll prepare for you and extend the best welcome to you and your party you’ll see in my home city.”

The author\'s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Naomi sucked in air fast before regaining her composure. She tossed aside the Zarian-like way of doing things and went with the old tactic. She committed to being herself, bold and hardcore.

She stomped up to Ekri and grabbed him by the tie. She pulled to see if he would come down to her or if she would have to get on her tippy toes. Surprisingly, he bent down to her, making things easier.

“We have our own plans, and we’re committed. Clearly, you have your own plans, and you’re committed. The next time you’ll see me and mine, maybe you’ll recognize our plans are better and get with the program,” Naomi grouched.

“And what program is that, my dear?”

“We’re the best around, and you’ll want to keep me and my friends happy. Especially Sir Zarian Darkrun,” Naomi claimed.

“Sir Zarian … Darkrun?” Ekri questioned. “You’re mentioning his name without even letting me hear yours.”

“He’s the type who’ll have his name spread far for all the wrong and right reasons. You can thank me later for the heads up. As for my name … maybe next time.”

Naomi gave Ekri a fierce smile.

“Well … I knew there was a reason I didn’t slice off your flesh and make you into a dress.” Ekri gave her a monstrous grin, all fangs. “I like it better when your type is more mature and certain of themselves.”

Ekri slipped out of her grip somehow, forcing her into a stumble. Naomi looked to the side to find him straightening his tie and his suit. She held his card with a tight but careful grip and watched him walk down the hall.

Then he stopped and turned his head slightly in her direction. “Did you get to taste Foodie’s cooking?”

“Damn straight we did. Best I’ve ever had.” Naomi gave Ekri the Tailor her most cocky grin. “Can’t wait to have more.”

Ekri slowly nodded before turning away. “Interesting. Curious. Incomprehensible, even. I must pray to Hisscreep as soon as I can to keep these threads of fate between us strong. I shall expect more from you the next time we walk and dance, my dear Star Core Queen.”

Ekri walked off and disappeared around the corner. With him gone, Naomi allowed herself to collapse to the floor. She was covered in cold sweat and had chills running down her spine.

She didn’t know how she survived, because that thing, Ekri the Tailor, was so powerful he would’ve killed her instantly if they were to fight here and now. Naomi didn’t have many special senses other than what she could feel through Psionic Affinity, and what she felt made her feel like a bug.

He’s definitely more dangerous than Foodie! Naomi shivered even more.

Ekri didn’t even show off any extra powers. He barely showed much of anything and had Naomi beat with sheer presence alone.

At least she learned a lot more about this world. Carrowmore, underground city nation. Right under the Coldbooth Castle Mountains. And the current landmass they were on was called the Walled Continent.

It all sounded fantastical to her. Naomi’s imagination struggled to see it illustrated in her head.

“I need to get stronger,” Naomi said. “I don’t want to be shivering at someone’s mercy even if they’re being nice.”

She rather make others shiver and hope for her kindness. Maybe that wasn’t nice of her, but Naomi was just being real with herself. She wasn’t the nicest person, and she had her own vices, but so were a lot of people.

What was wrong with a gal wanting a lot of power and being able to decide the fates of others?

Zarian would help me get there, wouldn’t he?

Hence why Naomi was so fiercely loyal to him. Zarian would give the world if he could, just because he vibed with you and you vibed with him. If only his personality weren’t so boldly infectious and weird.

Naomi laughed, letting her nerves melt away.

Her minions gathered around her. They offered their skeletal hands and waited on her like little gentlemen. Naomi felt touched by the gesture and let herself be a little dainty for once, taking their help to get back on her feet.

Then a big blue notification appeared in her face with a soft ‘ding’ ringing in her head.

“Let’s go!” Naomi shouted, grabbing onto her goblin skeletons with both arms. They hugged her back before their surroundings blurred, shifted, then snapped back to focus.

Naomi stumbled when she felt soft plush rug fibers under her soles. She looked around and found a fancy room with more fluted columns.

The ceiling was flat instead of concave and featured a big chandelier glistening with countless gems. Lined up against one wall was cold cut food. Mainly sandwiches with no vegetable variety, all bread and meat. Against another wall were pitchers, barrels, and mugs.

Naomi heard a bunch of rattling behind her. Her minions left her side and joined up with two more.

They were gathered around Zarian who was lying on his back, all bloodied in the face.

Naomi panicked, her heart pounding. She lunged into a baseball slide on her knees, nearly bowling over the skeletons to reach Zarian.

Her fingers checked his neck for a pulse. She leaned down and waited to feel his breath on her cheek.

All of it was faint.

Naomi used her Psionic Affinity to check for brain activity. She barely got much back except for what felt like some sort of magical activity, like channeling a spell.

His grimoire was floating next to him, shining with green light while chained directly to his soul.

“Even when you’re knocked out, you’re using a spell,” Naomi said, feeling downright shocked and impressed. “You kept your necromancy going for the rest of us, didn’t you? Man, you’re an idiot. Have you thought about turning it on and off to protect yourself?”

No response.

The skeletons rattled in a worrying way.

Naomi shouted, “Gilbert, dammit, where are you?!”

“Here, here, we just got here!” Gilbert shouted from behind Naomi as she noticed the others appearing in the banquet room.

They landed from nowhere with a solid thump. They looked horrible while covered in blood that belonged to the monsters and themselves. Loner was with them, and even he had some chips and breaks in his skeletal body.

However, the way they moved toward her felt off. They had an … edge to them. It was way more than Naomi had ever seen from them.

Gilbert wasn’t too surprising. He was a cop. But Hannah? Bianca?

Those two felt more dangerous now. Bianca looked less like a lamb and more like a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Naomi let the little details slide and made room for big Gilbert. He thumped down onto his knees and pressed his hand to Zarian’s chest. His eyes widened.

“He should be dead,” he said faintly.

“It’s that bad?” Bianca asked, worried.

“Yeah, it’s that bad. Most of my healing is going to his head. The damage is so severe I’m pushing to the extremes of my Basic Healing. What could’ve done this to him?” Gilbert wondered, looking at Naomi.

She shook her head. She held Ekri’s card in her palm, fingers wrapped fully around to keep it out of sight for now.

A tendril from the Parasite Cloak lifted from beside Zarian and waved at them all.

“Hey, Para, good girl. You must’ve helped Zarian a lot, didn’t you?” Bianca asked.

Para motioned her tendril up and down a couple of times. Naomi figured Para had helped Zarian more than they could imagine.

“Thank you,” Naomi blurted.

Para reached over and patted Naomi on the head kindly, and Naomi accepted the gesture. After meeting Ekri, she had a lot of humble pie to chew through before she could drink straight from the fountain of ambition.

Unfortunately for Naomi, seeing Zarian in such a bad state made all that humble pie taste even worse. He was the cornerstone of her wish to be scarily strong. Without him … Naomi wasn’t so sure.

“Can any of you pinpoint how this happened?” Hannah asked. “Was it because of the dungeon boss?”

Para turned her tendril to the skeletons that had appeared with Zarian. Zarian’s skeleton guards looked at each other before pointing at the man himself. Para slowly raised her tendril up and down, nodding, before pointing the tip down at Zarian.

The room fell into a deep silence. Naomi broke it. “Are you telling me … he nearly died of severe brain damage … because he did this to himself?”

Para and the skeletons nodded.

Naomi turned to Gilbert. “Whatever you do, save up a little aura juice after Zarian wakes up. He’s going to need it when I’m done with him.”

Bianca leaned over to Hannah. “Do you think I can convince Naomi to hold back until I ask Zarian about my class selection?”

Hannah took a long look at Naomi. Then she shook her head.

Bianca pouted. “Please don’t hurt Zarian too badly. I want his help to select my class! It’s important. Oh, and we have to check with him before we open those treasure chests over there. Then you can hurt him!”

Bianca pointed to another part of the wall Naomi hadn’t examined. Indeed, there were three treasure chests waiting there.

She didn’t give a damn about them, which was clear on her pissed off face.

“Or we’ll just wait for when he recovers from another near death experience,” Bianca mumbled.

Gilbert shook his head at their unconscious party leader. “Don’t wake up, chief. It ain’t worth it.”

Fortunately and unfortunately, Zarian returned to full consciousness with a healed brain. He barely got to say anything before he faced a terrifying force: Naomi’s anger.