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  Hyena Werks, A proud Orario Company.

  DanmachiXDnD Nonhuman semi SI

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  Chapter Nine:

  Free Range Gnoll

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  My claws made soft clicks against the cobblestone path beneath my feet; A cloudless moon lighting my way through the foggy gloom. Slowly padding my way up the hill, I came ever closer to the large wood and stone building sitting on its summit. Soft wisps of white smoke could be seen curling away from two smaller chimneys on each side of the building, while one giant smoke stack in the center billowed with black smoke like an active volcano. Warm, inviting light danced in the two large bay windows flanking the front door– beckoning me closer.

  Without a word nor gesture, the iron banded door opened on silent hinges at my approach; Allowing me access to my Workshop.

  Stepping past the entrance, I was met with the sight of a fully furnished foundry and forge. Taking up large swathes of the immediate center of the room was a grand forge made of adamantium-ceramic bricks, roaring with a blindingly-white flame. Directly before the forge was a massive, golden hued anvil made of pure orichalcum. Atop of which sat a gorgeously bounded book, a rolled up leather tool kit eagerly awaiting my attention, and finally an extraordinarily out of place laptop computer.

  Ignoring the anvil for now, I cast my eyes to the walls; Every last inch of which was covered in every type of tool or piece of equipment imaginable. Hand saws and chisels; Hammers and tongs; Knives and clamps– Everything you’d expect to see in a blacksmith's home and then some… But beyond them were the other things.

  The alien things.

  The bright yellow plastic shell of a brand name electric drill sat amongst the lovingly maintained wood furnished hand tools around it like an uninvited guest; An unplugged soldering iron resting on a leather apron next to some wyvern skin gloves, a burnt hole now drilled through the apron; A modern aluminum framed leveling tool with its neon green bubble tubes lying along the edge of a unadorned broadsword–

  Everywhere I looked I found a new, strange thing in here, in this most sacred place.

  And they were all Foreign.

  They were all Inelegant.

  They were all Invaders.

  Swallowing back the now familiar, heady mix of rage and bile at the sight, I slowly approached one of the few new things in this room that gave me a spot of comfort. Picking up the small electric dremel in my hand paw, I turned the tool over- Admiring its gorgeous maple wood finish and bronze furnishings inlaid with an ergonomic rubber grip. Flicking it on, I listened as the electrum-mana motor practically purred, spinning the ceramic-mythril cutting wheel on the end with perfect balance.

  It was an elegant, yet at the same time rustic hand tool mixed beautifully with the cold logic and infinite possibility of modern industry.

  A seamless representation of the blending of the personalities that constituted the creature calling itself Max Maddic.

  It was also my hope–

  -My hope that someday… We could fix whatever the hell happened to us and repair our shattered, disjointed souls.

  Putting the tool down with a sigh, I padded my way over to the anvil. Pushing the laptop and the book to the side, I unrolled the leather kit with a flick to reveal yet even more tools. Running my claw along the row of implements- ranging from a small bottle of grease to a single scalpel, I finally paused on an old fashioned brass keylock. Picking up the seemingly out of place item, I juggled the lock that oozed with the very concept of Arcane Lock in my paw as I walked back over the wall, considering my options. The spyglass of Identify could prove useful… but so could the plague doctor’s mask of Protection From Poison and I'm sure I could come up with some fun uses for the comedy mask of Alter Self as well.

  Hmm, decisions decisions…

  Stopping to put the lock back in its rightful place on the wall, I passed over the dogtags of Warding Bond and picked up a pair of wood and steel climbing picks that thrumbed with the power of Spider Climb. Tucking my final choice into the empty pocket of my tool kit and rolling it back up, I took one last look around. From where I was standing, I could just about see a small wooden desk, inlaid with carefully etched runes, tucked away in the back corner of the building. Upon the desk was a myriad of books and scrolls written in countless different languages. Hovering above the stacks of books was a blood red feather, its quill perpetually dripping with ink that evaporated before it could ever damage the priceless knowledge beneath it.

  Seeing no reason to delve into that aspect of my soul tonight, I instead made my way to the door and without looking back, stepped out into–

  My bedroom.

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  Day Seven

  Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I stared at the wooden ceiling above me uncomprehendingly for a moment. Simply admiring how the old-wood joists running from the stone walls complemented the lacquered oak boards nicely.

  Beautiful craftsmanship. I do believe I’ll be stealing the style when it comes time to build my own store.

  Physically shaking my head to clear the last vestiges of sleep, along with the strange fuzziness that Dream always leaves me with, I rolled out of bed and lumbered my way into the ensuite bathroom; Turning slightly to fit through the too small door.

  Then it was time to conduct my complex, multipart morning ritual. Involving a forty-five minute long shower using the most expensive shampoos and conditioners I could find, along with a seaweed face mask and cucumbers on my–

  Just kidding, all I did in the morning was use Prestidigitation on myself, and boom– instantly clean gnoll. Maybe I’ll comb my fur if I’m looking to impress, or else rub some dry soap into it and give myself a nice floral scent. But other than that?

  I snapped my paws into two finger guns and shot my artfully scruffy image in the polished bronze mirror a gleamingly white and toothy smile. Yep, that's one handsome plains puppy, ready to take on another Danmachi day!

  …Note to self, if I ever so much as think the words plains puppy ever again, immediately throw myself out the nearest window.

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  With my mouth still full, I gave the bleary eyed form of Loki a cheery wave and a wordless grunt as she dragged herself into the cafeteria just as the sun was breaking the horizon. The Goddess of trickery, deceit, and occasionally rap battles gave my bright-eyed and bushy-tailed countenance an exhausted, disgusted glare before shambling off to go accost one of her chefs for coffee strong enough to wake the dead.

  Armed with a mug of coffee flavored caffeine in hand, the goddess dropped heavily into the chair across from me, glowering at my toothy grin all the while.

  “What's the matter, Loki? Have a late night?”

  She remained silent for a moment, save for taking a long draught from her cup of liquid death; Just the smell of which was strong enough to sting my nose when I got a whiff of it from across the table. An act which did nothing to ease the scowl on her lips. “How do you do it, Max? How do you just- Wake up every morning like that– All… Awake and stuff? What fell Outsider did you sell your soul too in order to gain such an overpowered ability? Tell me, because I want to cut a deal with it myself.”

  Laughing at her plight, I took another heaping bite of my pancakes while giving her a grinning wink. Miming zipping my lips shut, the goddess groaned and dropped her head to the table with a soft ‘plonk’.

  Twisting her head until one of her fox-like eyes could give me a dirty look from beneath her bangs, she grumbled out. “This is all your fault ya’ know. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn’t have’ta wakeup at the crack of dawn to go to this stupid meeting.”

  “Hey, I’m not the one who picked the time- So don’t be whinging at me about it.” I defended myself with a grumble, before leaning forward slightly and asking in a far softer tone. “So… What do you think my chances are?”

  In response she blew a snort in my direction. “Oh, come on you big worry-wart. You’re going to be fine. No-one's gonna’ risk missing out on the chance to buy one of those fancy Hold-It-All bags or whatever they’re called and try and pull rank about this.”

  The goddess ignored my muttered “Bags of Holding” as she plowed on. “This is just gonna be a formality. I mean, you’ve already got pretty much every exploration familia and their mothers chomping at the bit looking to get their grubby hands on one of em’ after your little performance at the market. Not to mention I’ve had both Hephaestus and Goibniu all but kick in my door asking about that enchanted ‘shotgun’ of yours.”

  “They did?!” I asked, truly shocked. I haven’t heard anything about that happening! In fact, the Loki familia has been running interference for me for the past couple of days, keeping both the simply curious and the maliciously greedy at arms length in the days leading up to the Denatus. I’ve had a few informal meetings with gods and some special interest groups, but nothing actually binding has occurred yet.

  “Don’t worry, I sent them packing.” Loki said with a smirk around the lip of her mug. “Told em’ they can ask you themselves when the guardianship ends… And speaking of which, I don’t suppose you’ve changed your mind about that?”

  “Sorry, but no.” I told her with a small shake of my head. “I still need to sort out some stuff before I even begin to play with the idea of getting hitched to a god… No matter how good their free food is.” I added with a snort, throwing up a wave to one of the line chefs– Which was gamely ignored.

  When I looked back, Loki was staring at me intently; A tiny sliver of crimson could be seen peeking through her lidded eyes. After holding my gaze for a moment, she just let out a sigh and leaned back with a shrug.

  “Alright alright, I won’t push. I’m no slaver, unlike some others I can think of. But!-” She said, quickly casting her eyes to the entrance where more and more adventures were trickling in for breakfast. “-I’m going to cut you a deal. Well, more like an ultimatum but all the same…” She then leaned forward, hitting me full blast with her ‘serious face?’; Eyes fully open now, and head tilted slightly down to cast a light shadow over her face. “When, and I mean when, another god tries to force the issue- And if you fail to keep your independence, the Loki familia will declare a War Game over you. And when you rejoin my little familia, I don’t want to hear any ifs, thans, or buts about it, Mister Maddic.”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  In response, all I could offer her was a serious nod. It… Was definitely more of Max’s way of thinking than my own; But I couldn’t help but acknowledge that if I wasn’t strong enough to defend myself, then I had no right to complain when someone who was strong forced me to heel.

  Returning a satisfied nod, she drained the rest of her cup in one go and stood up. “Alrighty then, Max- I’ve got to run, I’ve kept my poor Ais waiting long enough. I’ll be back sometime later tonight, so don’t go sneaking off before then.” As I watched the goddess of chaos saunter back out the door, a hand held above her head waving a lazy farwell- I didn’t bother suppressing a snort at the acknowledgement that she ditched her chaperone for the day somewhere just to say a few words to me.

  For being the literal embodiment of trickery and deception, this universe's version of Loki could be refreshingly… Direct.

  As the cafeteria around me slowly came alive with the buzzing energy of countless adventurers getting ready for the day, I finished off my meal and made my way back to my room. There were a few last minute things I needed to finish up before the day was through, and my time here in Orario became interesting.

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  Despite the many assurances by Loki and her familia, I couldn’t help but be a bit antsy. Just waiting to hear the verdict on where or not I’d be chased outta town with pitchforks and torches… Or Something– was driving me up the wall. I never did get a clear cut answer on what it would mean if the vote didn’t end in my favor. For all I know, that the vote failing meant I was not legally considered a sapient, free thinking individual and therefore totally okay to openly enslave or kill.

  Accordingly, I’d taken the liberty to prepare some contingency plans in case shit goes pear shaped. My bandolier was fully stocked with as many potions as I could cram into it, and my prepared spells were carefully curated to aid in escape and stealth.

  With nothing left to do but pace and think, I was steadily making progress in walking a small trench into the floor when a knock on the door tore me from my thoughts.

  Opening the door revealed the last person I expected to reach out to me at the last moment like this.

  Finn Deimne stood before me in all his diminutive glory.

  “Hello, Mister Maddic, do you have a minute to talk?”

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  The Halfling stood before a glass cabinet filled with all manner of expensive liquors, two crystal shot glasses in hand as he tapped a finger against his chin. After a moment of quiet contemplation, he pulled down a glass bottle filled with golden amber liquid. The only mark on the bottle I could see as Finn poured out two shots was a stylized ‘?’ molded into the glass itself.

  Even from across the room, I could smell the razor sharp tang of alcohol layered beneath the smoky hints of burnt peat and the cloyingly sweet smell of butterscotch.

  Wordlessly, Finn placed a filled glass in front of me with a nod before seating himself in his slightly raised chair behind his desk. With the drink right in front of me, it smelt less like a shot of whiskey and felt more like getting kicked in the nose by a hospital crash-cart from how strong the smell of ethanol was. But neither I, nor my human counterpart was one to turn down a free drink; So I took the glass in-paw, toasted the man before me- Which was returned, and threw the shot back into my open maw.

  Hmm, well, neither of us were ever much for fancy drinks– Human me could never really afford them, and Max me was usually turned-off by the smell of hard liquor so he just avoided them where he could… So while I couldn’t give an elaborate, snooty description with lots of fancy words describing the drinks' elegant hints of oak or some such, both of us could certainly appreciate it when the booze tasted good and burned nicely when going down.

  Smacking my lips, I gave Finn a nod as he was still lightly sipping at his own drink with a raised eyebrow and a small grin playing at his lips.

  “Pretty damn good hooch you’ve got there, Mister Deimne.”

  “Only ‘pretty good’ Mister Maddic?” He said with a small laugh. “I’d be careful with fighting words like that around this city. If Lord Aegir ever heard someone describe his Gold Label Whiskey, brewed with the finest selection of Demeter's grains and aged for eighty years in barrels made from deep Dungeon oak as merely ‘pretty good’, well- He might decide to unleash his arcanum and smite the offender, ‘breaking the rules’ be damned.”

  All I could do was give him a helpless shrug. “I’m afraid my palate is one of the proles. I’d choose some cheap mead over topshelf liquor any day… Except for rum; Rums always pretty good.”

  Still chuckling, Finn shook his head. “It's a shame then that you’re leaving, you and Gareth would have got along famously. Unless of course, you’ve changed your mind about that?”

  “Fraid’ not, Loki came and talked to me about it this morning. Gave an ‘ultimatum’ and everything. But I’ve still got some personal issues to sort out before I can make any kind of commitment like a falna.”

  “Very well-” He said after taking a quick draw from his drink. “-We will of course respect your wishes, though I hope you know that our door is always open to you if you ever change your mind. ”

  When I nodded in acknowledgement, Finn took out a sheaf of fine artisanal paper from his desk and passed it over. The halfling seemed content to silently sip from his drink and watch as I quickly flipped through the papers. Written with beautiful calligraphy and dense legalese; The first one appeared to be, if not an exclusivity contract between myself and the Loki familia, then something pretty damn close to one. Priority for orders, first pick of new goods, the ability to order bulk deliveries of consumables such as potions- Things of that nature. Setting that one aside for the moment, I took a closer look at the second page.

  This one seemed far more amicable, as it was simply an order for twenty Bags of Holdings to be completed ‘at my earliest convenience’. Notably however, was that the price for the contract was left conspicuously blank.

  Putting the paper down, I gave Loki’s captain a raised eyebrow. Foreseeing my question, the man started to explain. “We weren’t sure what you wished to charge for your services. Normally…” He trailed off for a second, looking somewhere over my shoulder, seemingly lost in thought. “-Normally, such things would be quite literally priceless. Custom works fulfilled on demand by those rare few who unlocked the Mystery development ability. Each one unique in form and function, and would likely be passed down as heirlooms for generations.” Suddenly his eyes zeroed back onto me as he continued. “If you can truly recreate such items consistently as you said… You could probably name whatever price you wished, and we would still be more than happy to pay it.”

  He didn’t have to explain to me how important it was for him to get these bags, as I had learned their true worth over the past few days. Initially, I had thought they were only valuable because they could increase the amount of raw material pulled from the Dungeon each day; But that was only the simplest use for them. Their real worth actually lay in their ability to carry supplies down into the belly of the beast. See, the true danger of the Dungeon, and what made it so difficult to explore, did not come from its endless hordes of monsters nor its many natural traps– No, the true challenge, one that not even the mighty Zues or Hera familias could overcome at the height of their power, was one of logistics.

  See, the Dungeon was massive. It would take an expedition of high-level adventures at least five whole days to reach the fiftieth floor. And that is only if they made a beeline straight down with no distractions or deviations. The constantly respawning monsters meant that having any sort of supporting logistical train was all but impossible, so expeditions were forced to rely on only what they could carry on their backs, and the few wagons they could afford to protect on the trip down. The loss of but a single one could be devastating for the entire party. Thus, food, water, ammunition, and medicine was all worth their weight in gold down there. Not to mention they still had to pack enough for the return trip as well.

  So the idea that the use of Bags of Holding could potentially increase the amount of supplies they could carry by a factor of over thirty was, in every sense of the phrase, game changing.

  Longer dives that could potentially reach further than ever before; More room for loot to be brought to the surface; And arguably even more importantly– The ability to bring enough supplies down to expand the rare ‘Safe Floors’ into proper rest spots like the town of Rivira is on the eighteenth…

  Loki wasn’t kidding when she said everyone was chomping at the bit to talk to me when it was revealed that I claimed to be able to make more of them.

  With a sigh, I leveled a look at the demi-god across from me. “Mister Deimne, before we speak further on this, I just want to make something very, very clear.” Leaning forward with my elbows on his fancy desk, I steepled my paws together below my nose; slipping disturbingly easily into the Gendo Pose. “I didn’t become an artificer for money or accolades or any other transient thing, no-” Tilting my head just a fraction of an inch lower, I stared hard into his blue eyes. Whatever emotion it was that he glimpsed shining in my inky black eyes caused him to physically recoil a bit in his chair as I felt a toothy smile grow over my muzzle. “I make things, Mister Deimne, because I love to make things. I love the feeling of lubricated gears gliding together; I love the stench of burnt powder and singed fur; I love the feeling of chained mana rolling in my paws; I love the smell of ozone and the crackling of electricity; I love the deep, aching thump I feel in my chest whenever something explodes; I love the scorching heat of a roaring forge and the ear shattering crashes of a hammer on steel!-

  -I love creation, Finn. So therefore-” I picked up the contract for the Bags and gave it a small shake. “I will accept this. Partly because I need the money, but mostly because you folks have been good to me, and I wish to return the favor. Hell, I won't even gut you with the price for em’. But!-” Picking up the exclusivity contract in my other paw, I crumpled it up as I growled out from deep in my belly. “-What I don’t love is being told I can’t make something. Whether it be because of politics, business, or hell, even logic- I hate being told ‘No’... I’ve heard your goddesses ‘Ultimatum’, and so now I’m going to give you one of my own. You want my time? My expertise? My Skills? Earn em’. Make it worth my fuckin’ while. Give me the difficult projects, the Impossible Ones- Things no one else has or can do, and I guarantee you that you will have my full and undivided attention.”

  The halfing stared at me in shock, his mouth slightly agape as he processed my rant, before a small chuckle slipped from his lips. A chuckle which grew it full out and out laughter before long.

  Quickly coughing himself back under control, the mirth never left his eyes when he leveled me a look of his own. “Maybe I was wrong, Max. I am beginning to wonder if you might have got along better with Bete than Gareth…”

  He stopped, then- just staring at me in silence. The pause lasted just long enough to be a hair past awkward before he spoke again.

  "You know, Max… When I had first heard that a sapient monster had been found outside the city, well… I'm not afraid to say I was scared.

  I may have earned my Title fighting Evilus, but it is in the fight against the Dungeon's monsters that I earned everything else. My skills, my strength, my position…" He then paused once more, staring hard into the dregs of his drink before speaking again. "It's not an exaggeration to say my entire life was built upon a mountain of monster corpses. But that is okay, Heroic, even. They're just mindless automatons built to kill the innocent, afterall. They aren't even truly alive, killing them is both objectively and morally correct."

  His eyes then snapped up to my own. "So even the most remote possibility that they weren't actually mindless… Terrified me. For many reasons."

  A small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes graced his lips. "So I'm very glad that ended up not being the case, mister Maddic."

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  Loki and most of her top brass was gathered in front of her estate. The setting sun washing the scene in crimson; Causing the many windows of her castle to blaze with a flaming orange glow.

  I stood alone at the end of the cobblestone path. All of my worldly possessions either on my body or safely tucked away in my Bag.

  After several minutes of vaguely threatening 'see you soons' thinly disguised as 'heartfelt goodbyes', I was more than eager to put the group of crazy adventures behind me. So with one final nod towards the Goddess who put me up for a week, I put my back to the Loki familia and walked out into Orario proper with only two goals in mind.

  Step one: Find a place to spend the night.

  Step two: Buy a plot of land and turn it into a workshop who's creations eclipse even the greatest works of the gods themselves.

  End of Prologue

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  Author Notes:

  Madness, what Finn saw was stark raving madness in Max’s eyes

  Seriously though, sorry about the delay, I had been banging my head against the wall trying to write a chapter dealing with all the politics of the burgeoning gnoll corporate empire before I realized I could just skip it all with a single sentence. So that's exactly what I did.

  Never got around to making any art for this chapter unfortunately, but I did get a pretty good gen almost right away using the evil robot artist.

  Max giving his speech, courtesy of DeepAI: