It turned out that a team full of Stone Wardens didn't have a ton of use for [Marked Adventurers]. Our job was basically done as soon as we brought the legendary creatures back to life. The Stone Wardens also sidelined Argin because she was one of the least accomplished among them. It was hard to compete against Betula's stony visage or Brant and his Dire Wolf.

  The lava had tried to pop up the access shaft, but the Stone Wardens had capped the shaft with some deft thinking. The look Meredeath gave me clarified that they'd thought about capping the shaft with Richard and me still in it. I appreciated their ruthlessness in protecting their city, but was also glad that cooler heads prevailed.

  The guy who lent me his helmet was still giving me dirty looks. Apparently a last-minute burble had burned a hole in the helmet. This probably would have been forgivable if the whole reason the guy had a helmet was because he was completely bald and sensitive to the sun. I wasn't about to tell the rock man that looks were the last thing he should be worried about.

  I knocked on the next house.

  "What do you want?" came the voice of a cranky old grandma.

  "I'm here on orders from the [Archmage] and the Stone Wardens. There's a citywide temporary evacuation. Do you need help?" Meredeath waved a yellow slip of paper in front of the peephole. The door unlocked, and the paper-skinned arm of an old woman snaked out, snagging the paper right out of Meredeath's hand.

  "What's this?" She squinted at the paper, cataracts clouding her vision.

  "It's an Order to Evacuate." I raised the volume of my voice, sure she had a hearing issue.

  "You don't have to shout!" She yelled, matching my volume. I caught Meredeath rolling her eyes and grinned. We’d been assigned a retirement area, and we had dealt with one tone-deaf elder after another all afternoon. On the plus side, none of them had the eye plumes that showed they'd zombified.

  "Do - You - Live - Alone?" Meredeath asked really slow.

  "YES, but my grandkids visit on Tuesdays." It was Wednesday. Meredeath shot me another look that I tried to ignore. One more look, and I'd start laughing, and I knew laughter would not make this interaction any better.

  She ended up inviting us into her home as she gathered some belongings. Her house was a small affair, cluttered with a lifetime of homey knickknacks that made it feel grandmotherly.

  "Do you have anything special?" I asked, feeling bad that we were effectively lying to these people. They wouldn't be returning home, but telling anyone that was just going to cause panic.

  The granny was shoving some clothes into a carpetbag. She turned to us, eyes suddenly sharp.

  "I'm not coming back." It wasn't a question. "I guess I should be glad they've decided to evacuate us old folks, probably would have been easier to leave us." I looked at Meredeath, unsure what to say. Meredeath shrugged, as helpful as ever. "Let me grab my winter coat, and I've got something for you."

  "We don't have time for--" I started, before she cut me off, patting me on the chest with a wrinkled hand.

  "You have time for this, son. Now come help me move this dresser." I looked at Meredeath, trying to figure out how we were going to handle the old lady. Meredeath, predictably, shrugged.

  It ended up taking both of us to move her very heavy dresser out of the way. It'd been placed in front of an unused closet door.

  "Wally put the dresser there, the old goat. He told me if I couldn't move it, then I shouldn't be out there." She looked at us as though we were in on the joke. The woman pulled open the door, revealing... I wasn't exactly sure what she revealed. A very dusty chain mail brasier sat on a mannequin, and some old dusty bottles sat on a rack. "Oh my, I guess it has been a while." Undeterred, the woman pulled out the chain mail bikini and held it up to Meredeath. "I think this will fit. You're a little taller than me now, but I've shrunk the last couple of years."

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  Eyebrows raised, Meredeath reached out to take the chain mail. Dust floated in the air as the bikini shimmered.

  "I can't believe this armor actually exists in real life." Meredeath said, holding it out. "This is a joke, right?"

  The grandma grinned, "No, Wally, my husband, was an [Armor Smith]. He thought it was hilarious, but trust me, he knew what he was doing. Throw it on over your corset."

  Meredeath gave me a side-eye that said if I laughed I was dead. She held it out in front of her, trying to figure out how the clasps worked, but oddly the metallic bra didn't have a clasp. It did look wide enough to slip over her head, and given the woman's demeanor, she thought it better to humor the old bitty.

  I stepped forward to help, the mail was oddly heavy for only being two triangles with straps. It slid down perfectly over Meredeath's shoulders, and as it settled into place the bra grew, integrating into Meredeath's lace and corset like some sort of additive magic.

  "I just got a [System] notification warning me that the armor is bound to Revenia the Destroyer." Meredeath held out her arms, as delicate chain mail with inset skull patterns coated them down to her wrists.

  "That would be me." The granny smiled, and I realized she was missing one of her front teeth. "Wally liked his women brawny." She met my eyes, as though challenging me to say anything. The Revenia before me was a sticklike elderly woman whose combat days were long behind her. "That's why it's time for my battle bra to go to someone new." She stepped forward, pressing her thumb into the skull that was woven into the center of Meredeath's chest. A flash of power transferred the [Bound] item.

  The chain mail tightened on Meredeath, customizing itself to fit her clothes. I hit [Analyze].

  [[Chain Mail Bikini of the Destroyer] - This [Rare] [Bound] armor additive melds to the wearer's current armor and adds a layer of [Enchanted] lightweight chain mail armor that reduces physical damage.]

  I reached down to my belt, reassured by the head of Guardian's Promise.

  "Alright, there's a few things in here for you too, boy. If they're evacuating the city, an [Adventurer's] going to see action before this is all over." She beckoned me into her closet, handing me dusty bottles. My [Analyze] skill rewarded me with the first good news of the day.

  [[Potion of Healing]x3 - This [Uncommon] potion can regenerate up to 60 points of non-lethal damage.]

  [[Potion of Regeneration] - This [Rare] potion can regenerate lost limbs and body parts as long as applied before the user is [Dead].]

  [[Potion of Fury] - This [Rare] potion can instill a [Berserker] state of [Fury] regardless of the user's emotional state.]

  [[Potion of Strength]x4 - This [Common] potion will double the user's Strength for 2 minutes.]

  [[Potion of Shell]x4 - This [Common] potion will give the user the attributes of a turtle's shell, tripling damage resistance from magical and non-magical sources for [5] minutes, but quarters the user's speed during the same time period.]

  "Slip these into your inventory. I'm assuming your fancy ring has that?" She handed me potion after potion. "My advice, marry an [Armor Smith] and invest in potions, and you'll live to a ripe old age like me."

  Several other potions had degraded, well past their expiration date. I didn't bother telling the generous granny, and slipped them into my inventory like they were treasures.

  She handed me the last potion, her papery hands held mine for a moment.

  “My old war hammer broke on me in a fight, and that’s what finally got me to hang up the bra.” Revenia looked down at my belt, squinting at it. She must have triggered an [Analyze] skill. "Looks like you've got a fine hammer. Guardian's Promise? That's a tall order for a youngling like you. If I were forty years younger, lad."

  With a wistful sigh, she stepped back in her white cotton nightgown. "Alright, be off with you. I need to change and grab a couple of last things."

  "Thanks, ma'am." I stammered, backing down the hallway with Meredeath.

  "I think she would have destroyed you forty years ago," Meredeath murmured as we walked past the knickknacks.

  "She would have still been like 40 or 50," I protested. The lady had to be in her nineties.

  Meredeath raised an eyebrow. "Revenia the Destroyer."

  She was probably right. I glanced quickly back at the woman, who stood naked in the door of her bedroom. She winked at me and turned with a waggle.

  Meredeath was definitely right.

  Stumbling Up will be stubbing book 1 the week of March 1st (Chapter 1-71)

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