[a brave young woman's journal]

Mister Travis likes my idea. Baroness Sellswell doesn't. I can't find it in me to dislike her for it, since I was sent here to take over and maybe have her killed, but she doesn't make it easy to like her. In essence, if I am serving under Mister Travis, it doesn't matter if she likes me or not.

I have an appointment to train with some people. Mister Travis says that even if I have guards, I need to be able to use weapons myself. Father and Mother had offered me such training, and while I had learned some hand-to-hand combat, I understand that I would never get to practice that if someone has a gun.

And the guns! Even uncle, who had some of the greatest gunsmiths in the kingdom, didn't have weapons like these. Pistols light enough that I could hold them pinched between two fingers. Rifles that his gunsmith said could put a hole through a castle wall with enough powder in them. The latest design, though, was a gun that could be reloaded from the back in seconds.

The kobolds, he tells me, are all still the people they were before he changed them. I am not precisely sure how to take that. I am going to need to buy a lot of things, though, and he has offered to pay should I work for him and him alone. It makes me bite my bottom lip to say work for, because nobles aren't meant to do that. But, that's why this is no longer a brave young noblewoman's journal.

"When do I get to hit you?" It was all wrong. Learning to fight should have been with a longsword and fancy footwork, all action and parry and jab! Instead of four feet of shining steel to use, Elanor Fitzgerald had barely a foot of blade and was focusing on not letting Kelvin Silversong hit her. She had a shield and a short sword and she was sweating.

"I'm starting to see Miss Fife's way of things—protection is key. You can learn offensive styles later, but you need to know how to defend yourself first. If an opponent is faster and stronger than you, give ground until help arrives." As if to demonstrate, Kelvin sped up and focused on Elanor's torso with every strike of his blunt spear.

The change of pace was too much for Elanor. She threw her shield into every strike she could, and attempted to use her blade to knock aside ones that were too fast for her to move the shield to intercept, but his strikes had the solidness of iron to them. Stepping backwards was her only option, and she realized it was exactly as he'd said. When her back hit the wall of the training hall, Kelvin stopped his attack and held his mock spear upright. She could feel a new runnel of sweat down her back.

"Tell me when you have your wind back."

Staring in disbelief at Kelvin, Elanor very nearly tried to throw her nobility at him. It was right on the tip of her tongue when she remembered her diary and what the nobles of her home in West Reaches had done to her. "Can I have a drink?"

Finding it harder to track time as a kobold, Kelvin had only Elanor's condition as a guide. "Okay. Let's go to the tavern and discuss your tactics over lunch. You will be spending the afternoon learning to shoot."

The walk to the tavern wasn't far. It was through a short tunnel and into a lit room where Elanor found a most blessed sight—a chair. With a moment to take stock of herself, she realized that everything was sore in some way or another.

Part of her wanted to rebel over the treatment. Swords, armor, sweat… Elanor would have been more comfortable in a nice gown or a pretty sun dress. Before she'd flown on Penelope's back, she would have even rather worn a bustle than to spend any amount of time sweating. But she wasn't a noblewoman anymore. She had to throw that title away and start over. What she wanted was— Elanor still wasn't exactly sure. The guidance Travis had offered, along with a role, saved her of the need to crawl back to her family, but she felt like something was missing.

"Here. Drink as much as you need." Sitting, Kelvin passed over a huge stein of water and settled down with his own. "Grace is sending someone with some stew. You know this isn't a once-and-done thing? We have a week of this to get you to know the basics of defense, and then you'll be training every time you're here."

"Yes. Will I eventually learn more than defense?" The water was crystal clear and surprisingly cold. It went down Elanor's throat so easily that she had drunk half of it before she realized.

"Sure. You can learn whatever you want. We have masters of archery, shooting, swords, axes, and spears. As well as someone who was known as the ghost of Northridge during the war, for her ability to slip into the enemy siege lines and cause havoc.

"To get you started, though, Travis is going to give you a class. It will only grow stronger from you killing things, however, so you are going to need to build your skills up first and then participate in some fights. Fortunately, you reside in the only training dungeon in the kingdom."

[A dungeon offers you the Dungeon Soldier class]

Accept? Y/N

The sense of something needing her attention was, now that Elanor experienced it, the weirdest thing in her life. "Why soldier? Can't I use magic?"

That got Travis' attention. Rather than remain silent, he asked, "What would you rather have? I can give you Dungeon Mage, Dungeon Priest, Dungeon Kobold, or Crafter. I don't think Dungeon Kobold would help, since that seems to be focused on enhancing aspects of being a kobold. Crafter lets you make things with less resources, as well as make better things with lower grade resources. We're researching Tank next, which is what Fife has."

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"I would like for you to have that, or at least Dungeon Soldier," Kelvin said, mentally chewing on the idea. "Support types would be—"

"I can't have armor, a shield, and use magic?" Elanor asked. Holding up her hand, she made one of the little light spells she'd been taught. Unlike her first time using magic in Northridge, she was a little more practiced with the amount of magic she'd receive.

"Oh," Travis said at the same time Kelvin did. Both of them laughed a moment before Travis continued. "Unless you have a god picked out already, I think—"

Nodding, Elanor reached into the neck of her shirt and fished out a little amulet with a rough paw print pressed into the soft gold. "I'd like to be a priestess, please, for the Sandwalker."

"Ugh, Felna! Stop purring so loud!" Travis tried to fight through the rumbling sound in his head—then realized his shout woke Felna up. "Uh, Felna?"

"Is there a reason you're waking me up before dinner time?" Stretching, Felna could hear purring in her head and shrugged it off as her god being very typically her god. Slipping her shirt on and pulling on some linen pants, she stood up and looked around the tower. The city below Felna looked inviting, though, so she decided to see what the noise was about.

"I just heard purring in my head and thought it was you."

Travis' explanation froze Felna's steps. She directed her own mind to examine the purring she heard, and realized it was coming from Travis and not her own head. "What have you done, Travis? Every time I take a nap, you do something."

Travis ignored the accusation in Felna's voice and got to the topic at hand. "Elanor wants to become a priestess of Sandwalker. Should I?"

Stopping in her tracks, Felna reached a paw up to her face and closed her eyes. The intent of her god was obvious. "I think you already have approval, unless you think a god purring in your head means they're upset?"

"I always thought they had some way of calling their priests and stuff. Like a spir— Oh, I left her sitting there. Hold on."

As soon as Travis' focus was back in the tavern, the purring grew stronger in his head. "I'm going to need to build a new temple, aren't I?" he said to no one, and the purring grew stronger still. "Is she the reason I'm important to you?" Not waiting to see if purring could grow so strong it would do his heart damage, Travis prodded Elanor and paid a thousand gold—a pittance compared to his daily tally sheet for it.

Elanor wasn't sure what to expect. After she pressed yes on the odd, floating button, she felt a little tingle run through her that made her feel warm at first, then hotter, then finally it felt like she burned all over.

The fire rushed through her, not stopping as it seared her to her very essence. When it did reach her core, though, she felt like a question was left there. A simple one. Accept or reject the fire? it seemed to ask.

The sacred sayings came back to Elanor. Would she risk walking barefoot on the hot sand? To be burned and yet learn a lesson because of it? She felt her own fire, mixed ambition, resolve, and a desire for freedom, rise in challenge. She accepted the fire, because it was meant to be inside her all along!

Panting as she arrived, Felna rushed into the tavern on the second floor in time to feel the heat radiate from Elanor. She narrowed her eyes and sighed. "Well, that's different. It's not common for Sandwalker to accept a priestess without someone being put on a quest first, let alone one from human parentage. How do you feel, Kitten?"

"Hot. Full of energy. We need a temple!" Jumping to her feet, spinning in place, Elanor pointed. "Is that where the other temple is?"

Looking at the spot she pointed, Kelvin shook his head. "No, that's where the wyvern pens are. Maybe some lizards too. Actually, a lot of lizards."

"Lizards are tasty," Felna said, shrugging her shoulders. "But, yes, a temple would be nice. Travis, would you be so kind as to get someone to dig us a temple?" She made sure to flutter her eyelashes, having read some interesting things about that in Travis' memory-books.

"I said I would. I even offered you one already, but you were happy with the tower!" Groaning in frustration, Travis would have been truly annoyed but for one thing, Elanor's smile.

[a brave young priestess' journal]

Now they can't send me back to my uncle! I feel like Sandwalker is curled around me, protecting me, filling me with her warmth. She doesn't say much, but there's a feeling like she will never leave me to fight anything on my own.

Mister Travis is very nice. I don't think anyone in my family has ever spoken to a dungeon before. Maybe they should have and be less (rest of line blotted out)

My former family are terrible people and I am free to say that now because Sandwalker got upset with me for blotting out those angry words.

Apparently, I am not meant to hold back with my thoughts. Miss Felna said Sandwalker doesn't like those without a strong will, and that I must have such since I am now a priestess. I have a lot to get used to, but I will do it.

Mister Travis said I still need to learn to fight defensively. He also wants me to meet with all his creatures and find ones that I… I'm not sure why he used the word, but he said I need to "vibe" with them. Miss Felna said that means I need to be friendly and that I will share a rapport with them.

I've already seen all the lizards. They are the most adorable little things. I don't think Miss Felna likes them. They crowd around her whenever she sleeps in the dungeon and, she says, they steal her warmth.

I leave my door open a crack so they can come in. It's nice to have them crowd around and keep me company. Once I have some friends picked out, Kelvin said I need to try fighting some of the dungeons Miss Fife has made. Something about needing to get kills, and Mister Travis' creatures can be resurrected.

Don't tell anyone, but I want to try to resurrect them myself. Surely bringing them back to life will be even more of this experience they keep talking about.

I need to go. Mister Kelvin wants to beat me senseless again and probably make me… sweat. It's horrible!

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This story is released under the Creative Commons BY-NC-SA license. If you are paying money to see this or the original creator, Damaged, is not credited, you are viewing a plagiarized copy of the story.