Dungeons and Dalliances

7.105 – Emporium II

The automaton led them through the arched doorway and into the Emporium proper and quickly took a left turn down a smaller hallway. By then, Natalie had worked up the nerve to ask.

"Were you human once?"

The bluntness was deliberate. She didn't know what she expected—maybe a shocked look that would give the truth away. But the automaton slowly turned to blink at her, confusion obvious on her face.

"Mistress?" she asked questioningly. "I am an automaton. I live to serve those who delve the dungeon."

It was a stock response. Natalie was pretty sure she'd read it in a textbook or heard it from a teacher. Because she wasn't the first person to ask about an automaton's origins; they weren't the most talkative sort, not when being interrogated. Why had she thought she'd be special?

"I know about the dungeon," she insisted anyway. "How monsters are created. I was wondering if you're the same."

"Mistress," the automaton said, a perfect picture of baffled concern. "My task is to serve you through your stay in the Emporium. I don't know how to answer these … questions … of yours." The genuine worry on her face didn't belong on automatons, who were unerringly willing to bend over backwards and were always cheerful.

If she was acting, it was flawless. Natalie deflated. "Right," she muttered. "Sorry, not trying to be pushy, I just thought—never mind."

The good attitude returned in an instant. "Absolutely no problem, Mistress."

Reaching her destination, she swung open a door and bowed slightly, gesturing for Natalie to enter first. She did so, and the automaton followed, taking effort to close the door as gently as possible. There was barely a click.

The room inside wasn't what she had expected. It was … a waiting room? There was a single plush couch in front of a table, and like the rest of the Emporium, or the City for that matter, the space was opulent bordering on decadent. But she was growing inured to the wealth on display. So, upon the automaton's smile and gesture, she sank into the soft sofa and gave her hostess a curious look, barely paying attention to her surroundings.

"Your stay at the Emporium will consist of two events," the metallic woman said. "A private showcasing followed by the gallery."

"Private showcasing?" Natalie asked, sitting up straighter. But for a second time, she was looking for innuendos where they didn't exist.

"You'll be allowed three requests," the automaton said. "Categories of items you're seeking that the Emporium may or may not fulfill. General requests, not specific." She bowed at the waist, and despite Natalie's fascination with the developing situation, she had to force herself not to stare at the woman's breasts. They were surprisingly realistic for being made of metal … or something like metal? "I'll be acting as the middleman for this process. I desperately hope you leave satisfied with me!"

Okay, it had to be intentional. There had been too many of the potentially lewd phrasings in a row. But Natalie didn't comment. "You mean I can ask for a specific item?" she asked instead.

"A category," the automaton corrected, in as congenial a manner as possible. "I'll search our backroom inventory and the gallery and identify a suitable fit, then present it at a discounted rate." A regretful look crossed her face. "However, if you decline to purchase the presented item, it will still count as one of your three requests."

Interesting. This wasn't what she'd been expecting.

"Is this how all Emporium visits go?"

"I'm afraid I can't speak on that."

"Alright." She hadn't expected otherwise.

Was the Emporium behaving differently for her than it would others? Or maybe some people received this style of event, and some received others. Information on the Emporium was extremely sparse, and she'd heard a number of rumors that may or may not be true—many of which had already been disproved. 

"How general do I have to be? And can I ask for anything?"

"You might ask for an item with a Prowess boost," she said, "or a weapon of a specific type, a spear or a halberd. I have an impression of your class, so I can make informed decisions on what you might find suitable."

"You know what my class is?"

She bowed. "I do. An impression, at least. I must admit, Mistress, yours seems … interesting."

"You don't need to call me Mistress," Natalie said distractedly, caught off guard by the reveal. She supposed knowing the client's class was a prerequisite to offering useful items. "Also, do you have a name?" she added. Another idle question, her mouth working separately from her sprinting thoughts.

"A name?" The automaton was surprised. "No, I apologize, we do not have names. Would you prefer a different form of address from Mistress?"

"No, I just … Mistress is fine. But Natalie is too? Whatever you want." She was probably being weird; she just found it odd—if enjoyable, a part of her admitted?—to be referred to so formally.

"Mistress, then," the automaton said brightly, not remotely conflicted.

Natalie cleared her throat. "Right. So. Three general requests, and you'll tell me if I'm too specific."

"Exactly so. Can I offer you food or drink in the meantime, by the way?"

"No, thank you." She couldn't care less about refreshments right now.

She'd come into the Emporium expecting to sort through heaps of incredibly useful items. It wouldn't be an easy task, picking which item worth its weight in gold she wanted. But being able to ask for specific items? Okay—general items. Her host was clear that she could only request a category. But it would be discounted too. She would be offered incredible items at a discounted price. That changed everything.

What did she need most?

She frowned down at the plush carpet as she mulled it over. The automaton was probably used to that reaction, because she waited at the opposite side of the table, hands crossed politely in front of her.

Natalie wanted to spend her Tokens on herself. Selfishly. She was only human. But she also wanted to help her team as much as possible. Especially after two weeks of leaving them without a tank.

She might have discussed going down into the dungeon with Elida with the whole team and gotten their approval—since learning more about their year's opposing god-chosen was crucial—but obviously they hadn't expected two full weeks of delving without a tank. She had needed to make that choice herself, because her stay was clearly mandatory considering the sheer usefulness of the City. Elida and the others wouldn't have let her leave, anyway. Regardless, she felt obligated to maximize how much benefit her teammates received in turn.

But she also needed to look out for herself.

It would be arrogant to think that four incredible delvers like Jordan, Sofia, Ana, and Liz were somehow at a standstill just because she'd taken a vacation. They were advancing fine without her; she wasn't an irreplaceable cog in their machine. They'd likely found a temporary replacement tank, or otherwise, Malice was serving as an adequate one—though probably not an ideal one.

So. A mix of selfish and helpful to her team. She had three requests. Two to get her geared up, because being a competent tank was helping her team, and one that helped them more directly. That seemed fair.

She started with the obvious request.

"A hammer. Two-handed. Big. Something that fits my class," she said. Since the automaton knew her class, or an 'impression of it'. "Is that general enough?"

"Absolutely." The metallic woman beamed at her. "Just a moment, Mistress."