Bryn yawned as she awoke, pushing aside her spidersilk sheets and sliding off the who-knows-but-it’s-really-soft mattress, stepping over her pet drake on her own mattress. The enormous crystal embedded in the ceiling gave a soft, beautiful light as she checked herself out in the impossibly perfect mirror. It felt almost like her double could step out of the frame at any moment. She looked… Amazing.

Bryn could hardly believe this was her with those lithe limbs and plump rump. She turned to the side to get a better view of it. Damn. It’d been an actual struggle to peel her pants off her the other day- she suspected she wouldn’t be able to put them on again. She spanked it, just once. Nice. She’d had the thighs before but they just looked better on her new legs. Her eyes were exotic and slitted, but fit in her face. She’d always felt her features had been too harsh, but today they felt right.

She went into her private bathroom and brushed her teeth with pure essence water as her personal bathtub filled and heated. She studiously ignored the somewhat terrifying toilet. When she came out from the bathroom room service had delivered a delicious looking breakfast that had been put on her desk and a rack of new clothes, along with an empty box. She flipped through them as she ate. Mostly spidersilk togas in a rainbow of colors, though a few replicas of her leather armor in various sizes too. Ms. Kittysaur had moved from her bed onto Bryn’s.

There was a note attached- it showed a stick figure and a series of shirts, one too small, one too large, and one medium. It showed the too large and too small ones being put in a box. There was also a color swatch and a wooden stick with what seemed to be charcoal at the end. Bryn pondered for a moment- was she picking the color for her new armor? She picked a soft grey.

She went back into the bathroom and checked the water- just right. She filled a small pail with more pure essence water generated on the spot by her own private dungeon pearl and put out the fire, the smoke disappearing into small vents in the ceiling. She slipped into the water and luxuriated for a moment, then investigated the various things put on a ledge next to the bathtub.

First was a bar of soap which smelt of flowers. Second, a jar of liquid with a picture of a woman putting it in her hair on it. Third, a jar of crystals with a picture of a woman pouring them into the bath while she was in it. She poured the crystals into the bath. They foamed into bubbles. Bryn tensed, then relaxed, and began to laugh. She laughed so hard she cried, so hard Ms. Kittysaur walked into the bathroom and made a sleepy complaining noise. Bryn reached out and booped her on the nose. The drake chuffed and curled up on the floor, apparently sleeping.

“I wonder how my crown will look. Will it be pure diamond? I suppose I’m happy with the accommodations.” She sighed again, stretching out in the tub. Gods, what was her life now. How had this even happened? She knew how. She shook her head, good mood somewhat spoiled by memories of her dead comrades. Meesh would have loved this. The little bitch had loved her luxuries. Hell, who wouldn’t love this?

She sighed, then went back to exploring the shelf. Another jar of goop with the woman pouring it on a frilly thing and rubbing her body with it. A frilly thing. It was kinda rough. A rock. She touched it. Was that pumice? Why did she have pumice in her bathroom? Finally, a brush. Bryn dunked her head to wet her hair and poured a dollop of the hair stuff into her hand. It foamed when she poked it. She put it in her hair. What now?

After waiting a minute she washed it back out of her hair. Her hair was silkier now. The body goop also foamed and she used the frilly thing to cleanse her body- the water was almost black when she was done. She unplugged the drain and wondered where the water was going. After it had drained she filled up another pail and poured it over her head- merely lukewarm but it washed off the remaining dirt and soap.

There was a length of oddly fuzzy cloth hanging on the wall and pictures of a woman drying herself with it printed on the wall. Bryn rubbed the water off herself- it was incredibly soft- then hung it back up on the wall. She grabbed the brush and stepped over Ms. Kittysaur to go back to her desk. She sat down and stared at herself in the mirror as she brushed her hair. She looked even better now. She looked like a noble lady. Maybe even a princess- not that she’d ever seen one of those. Better than her cousins ever had, despite her aunt's attempt to pretty them up for marriage.

She wondered if they had succeeded. Marrying up, that is. Many nobles were obsessed with purity and who would marry a gal who had to drink essence water for health? She sighed. Ms. Kittysaur rubbed her leg and she let the drake sniff the brush. The drake was incredibly catlike- had her ancestors actually been cats? Made as much sense as anything. She ran the brush over the demon’s scales. It made a tinkling noise. Ms. Kittysaur seemed to appreciate it, despite having no hair to brush.

A few minutes of that and it was time to get dressed. She tied a toga around herself and looked in the mirror. It was soft as sin and scandalously thin. Bryn had to tie two more around herself before she felt modest enough to appear in public. She’d try out the armor later.

She stepped out of her room and closed the door behind her, then opened it again to let Ms. Kittysaur through. The drake stared at the door suspiciously. Bryn left it open for her. Ezekial was out in the hall. “Good morning.” She said and the pearl bobbed in reply. Or maybe he just bobbed randomly, it was hard to tell.

The hall had been expanded significantly and so had the entrance to the- well, it wasn’t exactly a cave anymore. The dungeon house? The palace? No, not enough ornamentation- not yet. Except for the murals, of course. They were, uh, a bit badly done though. For all his power she supposed Ezekial was not quite an artist. She wondered how long that would last. The music had already gone from horrifying to decent and she’d known him for only two days.

Two days.

Two days since she had charged into a dungeon with a crew of misfits and tried to murder a living god. She had been rewarded for it beyond her wildest dreams while everyone else had died. She should feel guilty about it, but… Bryn sat down on an odd lounging chair and closed her eyes. Right outside her soul was a bubble of thought. Good morning. The “I” of Ezekial. A cloud of soft murmurs and comfort. It was half Ezekial’s voice and half that of another woman, his sister she thought. Second-hand memories of being soothed, but they soothed all the same. A balm to the soul that worked more directly than words ever could.

The thing Ezekial was working on was a wagon, if you stretched the word. It was made of a beautiful dark stained wood and carved with simple swooshes that reminded Bryn of the wind. Above it floated a large bag- from the way the ropes were stretched Bryn thought it was pulling the wagon up. Reducing the weight? The wheels were thick and rubber and somehow swiveled. It was packed with wooden boards and panels, along with saws and hammers and a huge amount of nails.

“Housing supplies?” Bryn ventured. Ezekial bobbed again.

“When you bob are you nodding?” Ezekial bobbed again.

“Bob for yes, shake for no?” Ezekial bobbed again.

“Are you saying yes or just bobbing because of your windy thing?” Ezekial bobbed again.

“Ass.” Ezekial bobbed again.

He beckoned her over and handed her a wooden plate. Carved on it was a crude scene of people building houses while the wagon- drawn with far more precision than the rest of the scene- was unloaded. She’d guessed correctly. Ezekial then tugged on a thing and indicated she should tug too. It was a ramp cleverly hidden in a recess at the back of the wagon. It slid out easily due to some sort of rails which somehow ended in a hinge. Bryn wanted to take it apart to see how it worked.

Instead of that she helped Ezekial load the cart Zetli had graciously allowed them to use. Ezekial had added rubber wheels. Bryn smirked.

While the entire wagon was far heavier than the old cart had been the crab could handle it. He was twice the size he’d been when she went to sleep, after all. His blue shell had turned a greyish color and his claws were bigger than ever, but encased in oven mitts. That was one way to solve the problem. Rather than being tied on the mitts had a fascinating little metal snap thing. Finally, the crab had actual stairs built into the side of his shell leading to a padded chair. It had been grown out of the shell itself and had a symbol on it- a red sphere with a bird sitting on it, surrounded by seven silver orbs.

Bryn could guess what that represented.

It also had a cat bed. Ms. Kittysaur hopped into it.

Ezekial handed her the reins and Bryn awkwardly set off. Turned out she didn’t have to direct the crab, it knew the way. She could just read her book and let it trundle on.

By the time they reached the camp everyone had turned out to watch them approach, murmuring in awe and a hint of fear. Bryn walked down the stairs and went behind the wagon to lower the ramp, wheeling down the rubber-wheeled cart. The wheels swiveled now- another improvement Ezekial had added. She parked it in front of Zetli.

“Here’s your cart back. We don’t need it anymore.” She grinned at the chieftain. He blinked at her, still pokerfaced, then looked at the bizarre wagon and the enormous crab.

“Thanks.”