Headed home

Keilnei didn’t even pause in her work when Gil announced his intention to leave, continuing to flit from flame to flame. She hoped that Gil would be gone for at least a short while, so she could get everything ready. She was starting to worry that they didn’t have enough material to preserve everything. Gil didn’t seem overly enthusiastic about purchasing squared off wooden planks from the armory, but even if he let her have as many as she wanted there just wasn’t enough space to build that many smoke houses.

Snow had bought quite a lot of sea salt from Rim Elm; unsurprisingly it was the coastal town’s easiest form of both preservation and seasoning. Even so, packing the salt and veal into all of their available containers felt silly when most of the containers were small boxes. Ah well, at least Snow and Blackpaw were making use of some of the organs in their own respective ways.

She turned to look at where Gil was, hoping to catch him before he left and ask him to buy a few barrels if he could find them, only to find him standing next to a squad of four short, green skinned creatures and a gigantic yellow bird.

The skinny green skinned men were dressed in rags, and quickly shifted close to one another to look around suspiciously. Their cracked, yellow teeth and nails told a tale of neglect, at best.

“Oi, where is this?” One of them demanded, looking at Gil. “Wha happened to the pens?”

“Where’s boss Onyx?” Another asked.

“Ey, is that meat?” The third said.

The fourth hadn’t bothered asking and had picked up a heart, casually biting into it like an apple. Blackpaw, having already glutted himself on organs, growled at the goblin halfheartedly.

“Hey!” Gil said to the four. “You ask first!”

“Arright boss man.”

“Aww.”

“Sod off, I’m hungry.”

“Well if you all wait, I’ll have a nice stew cooked for you soon.” Snow offered, shocking the four goblins to their core. “Just wash up, first.”

Cooked meat was hardly uncommon among greenskins, but fairly uncommon in the **** pens of Naggaroth. Boss Onyx had held such a treat over their heads, to be enjoyed only after one of her occasional raids against the local human tribes. On the other hand, washing up didn’t much appeal. They took that as a suggestion, and chose to ignore it while Gil explained that they would be let loose after they helped him with just one raid.

It was not a suggestion.

“It’s almost ready.” Snow said, perhaps half an hour later, “The spring there has some soap next to it.”

She quietly refused to serve the goblins their supper until they washed up, and Blackpaw backed her up on this, advancing on the quartet of unarmed goblins when they tried to hassle her. The chocobo, already a dear friend to Snow after she fed it a few cabbage leaves, spread its wings and leaned forward in a threatening display. The creature resembled a particularly fluffy yellow ostrich, and between its sheer mass and its massive talons it was certainly the deadlier of the two animals. Of course, Blackpaw had the advantage of a once per week absolute heal, so his role as living missile was in no danger.

Gil wasn’t overly concerned, though he lingered nearby just in case. He let Keilnei and Candress get a feel for the new hardware before feeding it all to the armory.

“Obviously I’m going to make extras once we have the blueprints, but I don’t know if one of each is the best approach.” He explained, “What do you guys think?”

“I’ll take a revolver as a side arm, no matter what else happens.” Candress said, “What kind of combat situation are we likely to be in? Also, what types of ammo are available for the shotgun? How much stopping power do we need?”

Gil honestly didn’t know the answers to most of those questions, beyond what he’d experienced alongside Candress in the last dungeon. With that in mind, Candress identified the SHINRA shotgun shells as buckshot and requested an SMG and a shotgun to be carried by the chocobo, which she referred to as a Hawkstrider for some reason.

Keilnei had quickly chosen the bolt-action rifle, as it was most similar to the guns she’d practiced with on the Exodar, but seemed strangely fascinated with the revolver.

“It seems so obvious a concept.” She said, marveling at the small gun. “A side arm, you say? Most of my people resort to close quarters weapons when an enemy closes in, but this would be so much easier for civilians to carry around. Much more effective than a dagger, at least in the hands of someone with minimal training.”

Gil guessed that one handed firearms had just been omitted from her world as some kind of stylistic choice. He felt for the tall blue woman; seeing cracks in one’s own world building tended to be quite a strange experience for most NPC recruits. Some of his friends, like “Kevin” had an amusing tendency to exploit common holes in tech. Very few medieval settings were prepared to handle weaponized blimps armed by men using rudimentary firearms and bombs, for example, but as long as he was allowed to keep his technical knowledge he could generally bend most magic systems to allow for such things.

“Alright, guys,” he said. “Let’s get these blueprints uploaded, eh?”

All of the weapons sold for much more than the melee kit Gil had been relying upon thus far, and needed to be bought back for 400 to 500 each. The ammo in particular would certainly add up. Thanks to the hypno dart, he didn’t really have to worry about that for quite some time, but the ammo started at 25 for 50 revolver bullets and just got more expensive from there. Certainly worth it, but Gil didn’t intend to forget about magic any time soon.

Speaking of magic, the Materia was apparently too indirect a weapon to count, though the heavy iron bracers they could be embedded into counted as armor.

Last of all, though it felt a bit like a waste, he made armor, bucklers, and short swords for each of the goblins. He could always recycle the equipment later, after all.

Once everyone was washed, fed, and kitted out, he led them all, save Snow and the Chocobo, to the dungeon entrance. He checked one last time, pleased to see that the goblins were indeed just as fungible as anyone else in his retinue. One lesser gacha roll for each; perfectly reasonable.

“Alright, Snow.” He said to her. “You stay here next to the gate. If we push someone out that’s injured..?”

“I’ll cry on them, don’t you worry.” She chirped proudly. “Boco here will be watching while I tend to miss Keilnei’s smokehouses, just the way she told me to.”

“Good girl,” Gil said, patting her on the head and pushing her hair behind one ear. “You’re the best maid I could hope for.”

With that, Gil turned and led his team into the breach, to the first floor of a tier 4 dungeon.

••••••••••

Rose reappeared in her bedroom, arm outstretched for her crossbow. Her darts were already strapped to her thighs, just as they had been when she’d left. She looked around, and the digital clock on the wall didn’t show any time having passed. As surreal as it felt, she needed to simply go out on patrol again as if nothing had happened.

She walked out through the PRT HQ, and wasn’t sure if she imagined the changes or not. More people seemed to be looking at her. Politely, for the most part; these were soldiers on the job after all, but appraisingly. Many of the women in particular, perhaps one in five of the soldiers present, seemed struck by her appearance. Perhaps the succubus tag had enhanced her beauty in some way she’d been unable to see in the mirror? Whatever it was, it seemed subtle or nonthreatening enough that none of the women had started to view her as a threat. She knew of her active abilities thanks to a few rounds of testing, but she suspected that there was something more to it. Some manner of passive aura.

She was pleased to see Vista near the front door, though unfortunately her fellow Ward was not to be her partner at this time. Chris, or Kid Win, was to be her partner. The slightly younger man snuck only a normal number of appreciative glances at her, which she filed away for reference later.

Missy was returning from her own patrol, and was going to man the desk for at least a few hours before bed. She stopped dead to stare at Rose when she stepped across the threshold, and a sleep deprived Dennis proceeded to run directly into her back. For the few seconds before that, Missy’s eyes had widened in an expression of… what, Shock? Dawning realization?

In any event, Rose approached and took Missy’s hand. The girl actually blushed, as if the last few weeks of graphic dreams were only now beginning to resolve into a coherent picture.

“You okay, Vista?” Rose asked, her voice gentle, “I worry that you work too hard, sometimes. Come by my place when I get back. I’d really appreciate the opportunity to… hang out.”

In the calculated pause before the last few words, Rose carefully let out a whisper of her new power. Vista’s cheeks flushed even redder, and her breath hitched. Based on what Gil’s friend Tony had said during testing, she was likely feeling rather aroused all of a sudden, though to her it would not feel sudden at all. No, unless she looked inward she would assume that she’d been sexually frustrated for at least the last few minutes.

The magic did nothing to hide itself from others, which is why she’d been careful to time the effect with physical contact. From the way Kid Win was looking between the two of them, that had been wise. The poor boy was likely to have material for his spank bank for weeks based on witnessing this interaction alone.

Rose felt some of it herself, though for reasons far more prosaic than the touch of a succubus. She’d seen Missy’s arousal before, but never in direct response to a woman’s presence. It was entirely possible Rose had somehow conjured lewd thoughts of Missy’s lost crush, Gallant, but there was no evidence of that. No, the adorable young woman had been looking directly at Rose.

Though it was relatively subtle compared to most of the changes, a few people there in the lobby noticed one new thing about Flechette. Perhaps because of her good mood, she walked with a distinct, confident sway in her step. Kid Win, in a burst of chivalry, did not allow himself to fully appreciate the effect that confident sway had on his teammate’s ass in her well tailored bodysuit.