Dressed to kill Chapter 19 (Patreon)

I wasn’t going to give up another chance at Thread Mastery this early, especially not after sacrificing the last one. I grabbed Embellishment. 

[Gwendolyn Tailor][Human, Lv8][Seamstress]

[Health: 10/10][Mana: 4/10][XP: 3/10]

[ATTRIBUTES]

►SPD: 10 ►WIL: 5

►STR: 5 ►DEX: 22

►CON: 5 ►PER: 16

[SKILLS]

►Crafting I ►Running Stitch I

►Hand Spinning I ►Thread Mastery II

►Wardrobe II ►Quick Change I

►Embellishment I

[PATTERNS]

►[Hunter Pattern] ►[Shell Dress Pattern]

[RESISTANCES]

►Shadow: 5

[TEMPORARY SKILLS]

►[Bow Mastery I] ►[Shadow Cloak I]

A pile of shining spider parts sat in the corner in a mix of shining, metallic colors. Even the white pieces showed a slight iridescence when bent in the light.

Before I could even assemble the scales I had to create the bodice of the dress. I cut the pattern from wolf leather, stitching pieces back together to fit the design. I decided it wasn’t worth the effort to remove the fur after a few minutes of effort.

Instead I just sewed the cloth layer over the fur, creating a layer of insulation. The memories overlaying my own made the pattern feel like something I had done a hundred times.

“Will this work?” I said out loud, holding a scale up.

“Wrong size?” Sandy asked, looking up from her book on her bed.

“Yeah. A little smaller, I think. Like this shape.” I said, illustrating by pointing my finger into the section of each scale to cut out.

Sandy cut apart the scales into smaller pieces like it was nothing. Amazingly, each diamond scale cut apart into three complete scales, warping to perfectly fit.

Then I tried to stab my needle into one. With my heightened dexterity, it was easy to avoid the needle bending back and stabbing myself as it scraped the side of the scale.

My strength, on the other hand, wasn’t enough to cut through it. 

I frowned, realizing for the first time that I needed stronger needles.

I could use [Running Stitch,] but using it for just one scale would be a waste. I created a pile of them next to me, activating the skill and feeding the scales to it. Both of my arms operated at superhuman speeds as I stitched the scales in, completing the first row around the shirt easily.

I stopped when I noticed something amiss; the farthest left scale was loose. I found the thread stabbed through the chitin fraying.

[Running Stitch I] [Mana: 3/10]

“The thread isn’t durable enough.” I said, inspecting the scale. The motion of stitching the rest was tearing the thread apart on the holes poked through the chitin. I pulled it apart scale by scale, plucking them free and setting them on the table.

Then I reached under it and grabbed the spider web cloth I had spent my spare time and mana spinning.

I stitched the already-pierced pieces in by hand, conserving mana as I reattached them to the dress’s bodice, then used the rest of my mana to complete most of the work on the bodice.

There were still scales left over, but the night was growing late. I took a step back to admire my work.

The dress was mostly colored scales, iridescent reds and purples fighting for the dominant color of the dress.

Sandy yawned.

I yawned in turn.

Then I headed home, leaving the dress standing on her desk. Tomorrow we had to clear the dungeon again, hopefully without getting bitten. Maybe on my own if Sandy wasn’t fully recovered.

I fell asleep easily and woke softly to the mid day light, ambient noise filling the house.

No one was home when I went downstairs, breakfast going cold on the counter. The table was missing. I ate my fill and then followed the source of the noise to the workshop.

There, all the houses tables and a good chunk of the furniture were laid out in the center. Half of the village’s adults must have been gathered. Goosebumps ran up my neck for a moment as I stared in the open door to the workshop. No one looked my way.

Then I remembered what day today was; mom hosted a tea tasting.

I stepped into the workshop. The scent of baked goods overwhelmed the normal scents of the dusty workshop, pitchers and teacups warring for space on leaning tables and creaking furniture.

“Gwen!” Mom yelled for me from across the room.

I waved have heartedly, but she waved me over.

“Come here!” She said.

Mom pushed a cup of tea and a kettle into my hand. Behind her, Gerald’s mom fussed over a magical hot plate, boiling another kettle.

“How are you doing? Did you sleep well?” She asked.

I was still sniffing the tea. It smelled spicy; I took a drink.

“Well enough.” I said. “Is this cinnamon?”

“It is! We got some new to try with the last shipment.” Mom smiled, fussing over my hair. I still had bedhead, my hair untied and fraying in every direction.

“Go say hi to everyone!”

The next hour was a blur. I must have said hi to every villager twice, pouring more tea out, hosting the party. I was still half in pajamas. At some point I lost my cinnamon tea, switching to a floral one I didn’t care for at all, which made the kettle last longer. I didn’t drink three cups of it myself while serving it.

I finally found my own spot to take up residence, sitting down across from Gerald. He looked at me with a nervous smile.

“Hey—”

“Hey!” He said. We both talked at once. He was full of energy and I was out of it. “How’s it—” He paused. “How is it going? How are you doing?” He smiled.

I took his tea. It was cold. I swapped it for an empty cup and refilled it.

“Thanks.” He said, drinking. “God, that’s so much better.” He said.

“It’s going well.” I said, eyes jumping over to the cabinet where parts of my wolf outfit were stored. It stood out more with so much more furniture removed from the walls. I tried not to let my eyes linger on it, focusing instead on the pile of goods mom had acquired to help me facilitate my crafting. I felt a pang of guilt for not being awake to help, but I had stayed up too late at night.

Everything was going well. Too well, even.

“You?” I asked.

“So good! We can almost keep up with all the work orders. You should see all the crazy things we craft. Armor and weapons are just the basics. The really weird stuff comes from Valjean — machinery. Big gears, steam engines — they use regular fire and water to make things move!” Gerald went off, gesturing wildly with his hands. “I… love being a blacksmith.” He said the last bit sadly, retreating backwards into himself a little.

“I’m glad.” I said with a smile. “I love being a Seamstress.”

He drank from his tea again. The rest of the day was mundane. I helped mom clean up, gorging myself on the leftover baked goods while they were still fresh. I felt full from just all the bread before the day was over. Neither Henri nor Sandy showed up.

When evening came, I walked to Sandy’s house.

She was out back playing fetch with Cinnamon and a spider leg.

“Good boy. Who’s a good boy?” Sandy said, patting him on the head while his tail wagged. The spider’s leg ended in a jagged, pointed tip.

“Are you crazy?” I asked, leaning my arms over her fence to stare inside. “What if someone see’s that?”

“I’ll just say it’s something dad had imported in.” Sandy shrugged. “We get weirder shit all the time.”

Sandy whipped her arm out, the spider leg flying until it slammed into the side of the house. Cinnamon tore up mud and barked as he chased it before grabbing the leg and thrashing with it. He groled as he chewed on the leg, huge teeth visible as he slammed it into the ground over and over.

Then he turned about, plodding daintily towards Sandy and spitting the leg out below her. His tail wagged.

Sandy turned to me. Cinnamon picked up the leg behind her as she left, walking over with Sandy.

“Dad said he liked your scale dress.” Sandy said.

“Where were you guys? You normally come.” I replied.

“I stayed home to avoid dad so it wouldn’t be awkward.”

“And let me guess, Henri stayed home for the same reason for you.”

“Yeah! And then he walked in my workshop again!”

“Tell him I said thanks. Was he bringing food?” I asked.

Cinnamon dropped the spider leg in front of me and barked. I picked it up and threw it. It didn’t go nearly as far as for Sandy’s toss.

“That’s not the point! He could at least knock or leave it in the kitchen!” Sandy said.

“I haven’t eaten anything but pastries all day.” I replied, looking off to her workshop.

“There’s some inside.” She said.

“You should ask him to make us something to raise our will.” I said, walking toward the door.

Sandy threw herself over the fence, following behind.

“Yeah right. Like he’d just do that. Just food to raise constitution ‘cuz he thinks I’ll die.”

“You literally got bitten by a giant spider last night.” I replied, pulling the door open.

There was a woofing noise as Cinnamon jumped over the fence, sprinting towards me and dropping the spider leg. I flinched, stepping back.

“Cinnamon! Bad dog!” Sandy said. Some of the mud had gotten on her clothes — more than usual. She groaned.

I scratched the dog behind the ears and stepped inside. He barked again. Sandy dragged him back to the fenced in section of the backyard, pushing the dog inside and finding a way to sneak back. She pounded on the door that led to Henri’s kitchen. It took a moment for me to clear her barricade, just to find her covered in even more mud.

The work table was covered in food.

“I need to start stashing my stuff here.” I said, dropping my backpack.

“Good idea.” Sandy replied, stepping by and cutting apart more spider shell.

I worked on hand spinning more thread with a borrowed spindle from spiderweb, conserving my mana for dungeoning as we waited for night to fall. This time, we conserved every last bit of mana, not activating stealth yet until we were deeper in.

“If your dad can’t make us food to enhance our Will…” I said, holding out hope that he would make us food. Sandy stared at me incredulously. “We need to save even more mana. Like none at all on the first and most of the second floor.”

“Our stats should be enough to fight with.” Sandy said.

“Tonight we try to clear the dungeon without skills.” I decided.