The Dramatic Dungeon - A Dungeon Core Story

Skilled Appraisers are often a country's rarest commodity, I have found. Specializing in the field of identifying magical effects, artifacts, and even people’s classes and skills, sounds somewhat distasteful to many… yet how else would you propose making use of whatever magical knicknacks adventurers tend to run into? Not even to mention how you ever expect a country's paperwork to remain genuine, untempered and well in order. Often, Divination Wizards pick up the basics, which is enough for basic item identification as an adventurer, and still those that do are a hot commodity wherever they go. If you want a class that will earn you fame and fortune, but avoid an adventurer's dangerous lifestyle, you could do much worse than picking Appraiser. - Galahad’s Guide to Classes

A sigh escapes me as I open my eyes, groggily shaking off what sleep clings to them. Another day of hard work awaits me, and it won’t get any easier as time passes. I barely manage to drag myself into the shower before this body's annoying senses kick into full gear and alert me to its smell… and then I manage to drown the scent of decay in water and soap.

The necromancer that performed the Puppet Animation assures me that there is no actual decay happening on this body… it is physically alive again, working and functioning flawlessly. The stench is merely a byproduct of the ritual, and it would normally be faint enough so as to not be noticeable. Stupid wolf-kin senses. Showering at least has become routine, even though I still don’t feel comfortable with this body I am stuck in, I at least got used to maintaining it.

The fact that it is a woman’s body, while I was a man in my past life - and still identify as one - is one of the major causes of dismay I have, and it took a lot of trial and error to avoid any of the overly sensitive spots and still end up clean when disabling the water enchantments and exiting the heat regulating cabin.

That same dismay continues as I brush my hair and fur, select appropriate clothing for the day. At least wizard robes are relatively unisex, though this body’s former owner made an annoying point out of wearing especially form fitting one’s… to my great annoyance. When I look into the mirror, the dismayed face of a young beastkin woman in green robes greets me. She is short and the gray hair on her head, falling down to her shoulders, matches the color of fur on her extended, lupine ears and her bushy tail.

I finish my daily preparations by applying just a dash of makeup, enough to be noticeable but not enough to have a strong impact on the features of this face.

Now, as I prepare to exit my room just before dawn, the second major grievance I have with my new normal is the dead woman’s attitude I have to emulate. With a final sigh, I put on a beaming smile, and with a bounce in my step rush to open the door and greet the day. There is appraising to be done, and the higher ups of the cult like to be informed of any unusual pieces of loot or crafted trinkets that passes through Aresmouth.

When I arrive at my erstwhile workplace, I note with contempt that the slogan has changed once again. "Silver's Item Store - Prices in Silver, Value in Gold! Buying, Selling, Appraisal, Repairs!" One of these days the owner is gonna run out of silver based slogans. Opening the door, I greet the interior with feigned exuberance.

“Goooooooood mooooorning! Mister Silver, you have a new slogan again? It’s great!”

“Haha, thanks Miria!” the old man chuckles in response before giving me a warm smile. “Your first clients are gonna be here within a few!”

I beam at him, though internally I feel like sighing. Here's to another day of hard work being Miria.