Chrysalis

Despite most of the peoples of Pangera using their own form of currency - even the bruan’chii used something they called a ‘soul chip’ to trade amongst themselves - there was one universal unit of wealth that was good for business everywhere in the Dungeon.

Cores.

Which was why Smithant and Cobalt had brought a healthy supply from the Colony’s stores with them on this trip, though they had begun to suspect that they may have brought too many. Their brathian guide couldn’t resist sending covetous glances towards their carry bags, strapped to their carapace, though she tried to hide it.

“Everything is so spread apart,” Smithant huffed. “It’s inefficient.”

“It is,” Cobalt agreed, “but it does allow room for specialities to bloom. If everyone were forced to compete in proximity to each other, every stall would be the same.”

It was taking a long time to get from market to market; each district of Freehill was a sprawling mass of houses, shops, schools, fighting arenas, seemingly without much planning having gone into the layout. It was apparent that much of the growth was organic, new things being constructed when it was found to be necessary, and placed wherever the people at the time thought it would make sense. It deeply offended the ants.

Yet, it wasn’t their place to criticise others’ way of living, they were out looking for trade, and were having greatly mixed levels of success.

[What is this store?] Cobalt asked their guide.

Irisod read the sign and sighed.

[It is ‘Big Hogs Swarthy Swords’.]

seem

the

quality goods, so

for the oversized door quickly became apparent inside, as they were confronted with the clientele. Large, pinkish-skinned

assured everyone, holding up the official documents in case anyone

Nobody did.

the two ants. He

aware that it has been stolen. Please

you want to buy. Having monsters in his

twitching as she took in the many

one brow before he stomped out the back and then returned bearing a huge, two-handed blade.

they put into their swords. Not only was the metal refined to the highest purity, not only were the weapons perfectly shaped and balanced, not only was the enchanting smooth and faultless, it was the extra details, the flourishes, the colours, the inscriptions. Everything was done to invoke the spirit of the sword as the maker saw it, and

“Look at the layering of the steel. What sort of temperature did they fire this,

some logic. “We can’t even use swords, so I don’t think it’s necessary for us to spend all that much on

“and techniques for making

was working on. It was tricky, since each set needed to be adjusted and fitted to the ant who used them, but a sharpened and enchanted set of barbs that fit

as to how much this costs?]

and forth, the mage supplied the

fifteen-fifty. In my opinion, this is

still prodding the sword with