The hours passed by, broken only by the addition of a third troll to the grotto.
The new arrival didn’t bode well. Was it a member of the guild, come to take me away?
I prepared myself for the worst.
Chapter Seven
I extended my senses outward to get an idea of what else I was up against. I’d expected Gavin, whoever the hell he was, but this was another creature entirely. The only features making her recognizable as a troll were the leaf-shaped ears angled behind her head, her green skin, pointed nose, and purple lips. She actually looked more like a human, not some creature carved out of blubber and the mountain itself.
While muscular, her body had curves in all the right places. She was Amazonian, almost, standing the same height as my elf avatar. If I’d seen her back home, I’d have assumed she was some kind of Olympic weightlifter who frequented underwear photoshoots and had just gone skinny-dipping in a dark green pool of paint.
A warrior’s braid of silky, almost sable hair snaked over her shoulder and down her back. Purple tattoos curled over her skin, tribal markings whose meaning was lost to me. A tight leather corset flattered an incredibly generous pair of breasts. The same kind of rustic leather circled low around her hips, almost baring a fantastic ass and thighs of pure muscle that rippled under her skin. She was a shockingly attractive creature hardened by the mountain, hunting, and probably no small dose of her family’s abuse.
If this troll was an example of what dungeon core avatars might look like, then I would have no reservations hunting down every last one of them and . . . how had Lilith put it? Conquering their avatars?
“Bertha,” Ma said to the beautiful troll. “You be late.”
This was Bertha? I’d expected some kind of wrinkled, warted, bipedal cow.
“I found Charlie. He’s—”
“Dead,” Ma finished. “We know. Come, sit. We’re celebrating.”
“Celebrating?”
Even her voice was different. Her voice was laced with a smooth and bassy tone like a jazz singer, further marking her as utterly different from the rest of her family.
Talk about a black sheep!
“We found something special. A dungeon core.” Ma nodded toward me, and the other female troll’s eyes widened.
Bertha approached the mantelpiece, and her fingers stroked my sides. Her fingertips were rough and calloused, but warm and surprisingly pleasing.
“No touching!” Ma commanded. “He’s not for—actually, I be having an idea. Come over here, Bertha. There be something I want to tell you.”
Bertha approached her mother, and they whispered together for a while. Extending my senses was too straining, and I decided to conserve my energy so I could play the long game. Whatever they murmured to each other was lost to me.
I wasn’t sure when Gavin would arrive, but I rested while the trolls ate their meal and sang a few songs. Bertha joined in reluctantly, and I spent my time trying to distinguish her jazz tone beyond Ma’s screeching and Jeff’s warbling.
Eventually, the songs concluded, and Ma was the only troll left in the main chamber. My consciousness soon filled with the sound of her snoring. Rested and ready, I reached out with my sight and saw Ma sleeping in her rocking chair. I guessed Bertha and Jeff had retired to bedrooms elsewhere in the grotto.
I checked my timer and felt a flood of elation when I saw it had refreshed. This hour-long time limit was a serious problem, and I needed to extend it as soon as possible. I waited a few seconds and pieced together the best plan I could cook up.
Ma was obviously guarding me by the fireplace. She hadn’t mentioned anything about my avatar, and I wondered whether her lack of knowledge about dungeons also meant she didn’t know I could summon one. Jeff also had made no connection between the elf he had seen and my jewel.
The best working guess I had was that the trolls didn’t know I could summon Von Dominus.
A bunch of knives, cleavers, and other carving tools lay on the benchtop. That’d be my first point of call—I could grab a few as soon as I entered my avatar and then deal with Ma swiftly while she was still sleeping.
Or at least, do my damn best to put her down.
Then I could handle Jeff and Bertha. They were stronger than me, so I’d have to take a stealthy approach. I could just book it without them noticing, but if I made it my mission to gore their mother in her sleep, it stood to reason they’d come after me. At least a gruesome death would send a message to Gavin and the guild.
I wasn’t a dungeon core to be messed with.
I summoned my avatar. The elf materialized, unblinking and still, and I felt a rush of anticipation at the prospect of again owning a mobile body. I extended my consciousness to the avatar and then infused it into him.
Ma maintained her snoring and didn’t stir at all. Blinking, I flexed my hands, rolled my shoulders, and let my senses adjust to their new surroundings. Now, I could smell the revolting meat spitted over the fire and feel the warmth through actual skin instead of crystalline fractals.
I grabbed my dungeon heart from the mantelpiece when the hackles on the back of my neck stood up.
“Going somewhere?” The formerly unconscious troll popped her head up as soon as I turned around.
So much for asleep. Shit. They knew about the avatar. Well, I couldn’t do anything except play it cool. I relaxed, smiled, and bared my fangs at her as charmingly as I could. There was no need to turn this into a fight if it didn’t need to be one.
I attempted to move when I felt someone horrifyingly strong catch me in some kind of armlock, twisting my shoulder until I could feel my bones grind together.
“Hello, Mr. Core,” Bertha murmured behind me.
