You must be this old to enter the Dungeon

50) Making friends and plotting mayhem

I sat down across from the Saboteur with a suspicious look on my face, only to have him raise his thrift store coffee mug up to me in a toast before sipping, loudly, at the foam on the top.

With a sigh, I took a sip of my own beer filled mug, quietly. To my surprise, the brew was nearly ice cold.

Hiram noticed the look on my face, “I tossed them in the freezer first for twenty minutes to put a nice chill on them before I stored them Harry.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Just how much stuff are you packing around… Colshek?” That was his last name, wasn’t it… Why did I remember that?

Right, Intuition. It must include a better memory. Or maybe all the improved Health is doing stuff for my brain too, even without buying off the senility.

The Grinning man shot me a surprised look. “I get two points into Insight each level, while the other three points get shoved into Health of course. So I got a lot of storage, plus my second level ability multiplied by my level, plenty of room for beer in my Toybox. You?”

He tilted his head at me like he was challenging me somehow. He was, wasn't he?

“…” I hesitated, was there any reason to hold back on stuff that didn’t matter, other than not wanting to share?

Holding up one finger, I sighed. Hiram just nodded and looked down at his drink, giving me a moment.

I needed that moment, and he knew it. Two points a level in his Insight, how… annoying. Deeply, deeply annoying.

He was managing me, and I didn’t like it.

The last thing I wanted was to get friendly with someone, not again, but at least this time I wasn’t going to end up getting married to the guy. Even if that sort of thing was legal now. But I needed friends these days, people to cover my back.

As he had put it, a Band of Brothers.

“My Third level power was the Heap, that’s what I call the thing outside. But it’s not like the coyotes or Acey. It’s not smart, more like a guard dog. Hell, it’s even less than that, more like one of those automatic vacuum cleaners but with voice commands.”

I began sliding my mug around on top of the table. “Smack around monsters, scare off strangers, collect trash, and grab a hold of anything trying to nibble at my garden until the coyotes come out looking for something to chase down and eat.”

Bringing my mug to a stop in front of me, I looked up Hiram, with a flick of my eyebrow at him. Letting him know it was his turn.

He sipped his beer. “My first level power was putting a scare onto any Dungeon monsters I managed to hurt somehow. Either making them panic or freeze up in place. As I go up in levels, it affects any other monsters around the ones that get hurt, getting stronger and going farther out each level.”

Tapping his mug against the table in thought, he kept talking, like he just couldn't leave it at that. “It seems like everyone got a power at the start that only really helps them in a Dungeon. I wonder if that was just for us since we’re the first people to get classes, or will that hold up as more and more people turn seventy five. Maybe it just lasts until next year when everyone between seventy four and five all get jump started at the same time-”

I spoke up to shut him up. “I get my level added to all five of my numbers while I’m in a Dungeon, as long as I’m not included in a party.” I wasn’t sure if I could be in one really, but he didn’t need to know that and I didn’t want to start a conversation about it.

Nope, not going to him an opening like that. Speaking, or thinking of which, “The coyotes didn’t count. And Heap can’t go with us either. He loses power off my land until he’s just a pile of stick until I make him again.”

I picked up my mug. “And you third?”

He shot me a half grin, getting the game. “Worthless for Team H.” Team H? Oh god no…

“Hi and Harry, heck we even got hounds, too bad about Heap. I can put out an ‘Aura’ of fear that members of my party and bound spirits are immune to, which I’m guessing means animals bound to members of the party. So we might be able to use it ever without you in the party, but only with planning…”

His eyes began to race as he started thinking of ways to use it around me and any other people who could be affected by it, so I spoke up before he started sharing any of that out loud.

“Level Twp was creating a spirit out of my land. No Stone needed. It’s called Vito and it isn’t going to be something that can help… us, in a Dungeon.” I am not using the name he suggested. “But if you’re in the area and need a place to make a stand, Vito won’t be hostile. Not to you, unless you do something to piss me off.”

Or at least piss me off more than you just being you.

His eyes went wide. “What can it do? Like make arms made out of dirt that grab people by the ankle and pull them under the ground? Bushes whipping people with thorns? Weaponized Pollen?”

Hiram seemed to be getting excited at the thought of Vito, and the land was suddenly giving the two of us a lot more attention… as if it was taking notes.

And giving me the impression that all of those ideas could happen in time.

I held up a hand to stop Hirum’s ramblings. “So far it can make the trees sway and blow around some grit and leaves…” A mental snapshot was sent to me. “And trip people up a bit. But right now I’m only third level.”

Hiram began shaking his finger at me, “What if you get more land, how does-”

I interrupted him again. “It becomes Vito, but it has to be connected, and legally mine. I got this part figgered.”

Leaning back in his chair, he slowly nodded as he stared over my shoulder at the cardboard list behind my back. “You didn't bring your own party favors to the dungeon, so I’m guessing we need to get you armed. You got Stones left?”

I thought that one over. “A few, most of them spoken for.”

He nodded, not bothering to ask what I had planned for them, most likely because he knew I wouldn’t tall him. “If you can spare four, Sam can soup up a shotgun for you. More damage to Dungeon monsters, and something to steady your grip and your aim. Plus one extra to pay for it.”

That… seemed worth it. “I can afford it, and fit it in my storage. Can he do the paperwork to sell it to me so I can use it outside of the Dungeon in thirty days?”

Hiram grinned at me. “Well, more like Sam’s son will. We don’t want your so… Reed challenging your gun ownership papers from a guy who’s still officially senile, do we? But I’m sure he can throw in the papers, and backdate them at least a few days as part of the deal.” He blinked. “His son will still want the cost of the gun in cash. The government likes their paper trails after all.”

We talked a bit more about some plans on how to fight flying monsters until Beryl wandered back in to patiently tap her foot with her arms crossed as she glared at Hiram until he remembered that he was her ride back to their Old folk’s home.

“Oh yeah, let me run Berry back and I come get you. Sam can set you up today as long as you can pay up.”