Raising Hel, in Danmachi.

[Common]

The room Hel had given her wasn't just a bedroom.


It was a massive workshop—one that occupied an unknown amount of the compound. Taylor suspected that if she tried to map it precisely, she'd get different answers depending on where she stood. The walls were stone and metal layered together, etched with containment runes that hummed softly under her skin. According to Hel, the entire space was sealed and reinforced so that when Taylor stepped outside her control range, nothing inside would escape.


That alone told Taylor two things.


One: Hel understood her power frighteningly well.

Two: This wasn't a temporary arrangement.


Taylor let out a slow breath and stepped inside, the door sealing shut behind her with a sound more final than locked.


"…Alright," she murmured. "Let's get organized."


She started with the terrariums.


Her pack hit the worktable, and she unpacked with methodical precision—glass panes, metal frames, soil packets, humidity stones, feeding trays. Hel hadn't questioned the supplies list at all. She'd just nodded once and was at the house the next morning.

Have her build it out and set up the spider loom before she realizes she doesn't feel any bugs and needs to bring some here.

Once the terrariums were in place, she moved on to the spider loom.


The loom itself was a hybrid—part frame, part containment rig. Taylor bolted it directly into the reinforced floor, ran guide rails along the sides, installed silk tensioners and feed channels with obsessive care. The design was something Ruby had cooked up in a burst of caffeine and enthusiasm—overengineered, clever, and annoyingly effective.


That little girl could give tinkers a run for their money.


Taylor tightened the final brace and stepped back, surveying the setup.


Perfect.


She reached out.


Nothing answered.


Taylor froze.


The ever-present hum at the edge of her awareness—the background pressure of countless tiny lives—was gone. No brushing contact. No distant signals. Just… silence.


Her stomach dropped.


"…Oh," she said quietly.


Of course.


The room was sealed. Reinforced. Outside her normal operating range.


She hadn't brought any bugs with her.


Taylor stood there for a long moment, one hand resting against the loom, surrounded by pristine equipment and empty terrariums. Everything ready. Nothing alive to use it.


She exhaled slowly, forcing the tension out of her shoulders.


"…Alright," she murmured, turning toward the door. "Guess I'm going shopping."

====

Orario was loud.


Not just noise—life. Footsteps, voices, vendors calling out prices in half a dozen languages, the clatter of armor and the hum of magic. It pressed in on Taylor from all sides as she stepped into the street, senses adjusting automatically.


She had always thought cities had a lot of bugs.


This place was infested.


Her awareness spread out instinctively—and immediately ran into resistance, not in force but in complexity. There were insects everywhere: under stone, in walls, clinging to rooftops, drifting on thermals of warm air and latent mana. Whole ecosystems layered on top of each other, interwoven with the city itself.


And many of them… weren't normal.


Some answered her awareness like familiar shapes, just with sharper edges. Beetles. Ants. Spiders. Others felt wrong—their instincts branching in strange ways, their internal rhythms touched by magic instead of biology. A few didn't register as individuals at all, but as patterns, like semi-organized swarms bound together by Mana.

"How did I not notice this earlier?" Taylor mutters as she grabs some of this worlds spiders knowing some experimentation is going to be needed to see what webs work best for gear.
Shock, probably. Trauma. Being dragged across worlds by a goddess of death and waking up with her arm back tended to reorder priorities.


Still, she focused, narrowing her awareness instead of letting it sprawl. Careful now.


She crouched near a stone planter overflowing with pale blue moss and flowering vines, fingers brushing the edge as her power reached down. A cluster of spiders responded immediately—thin-bodied things with translucent legs and faintly glowing spinnerets. Mana-adapted, definitely. Their silk hummed against her awareness like a plucked string.


Interesting.


"Sorry," she whispered out of habit, and guided them gently into her bag as another group made its way over. They showed from beneath a roof eave—bulkier, heavier silk, less elastic but denser. Armor weave, maybe.

Experimentation later.


For now, dinner.


Taylor forced herself to disengage, pulling her awareness in close as she stepped into the marketplace proper. The smells hit her first—grilled meat, baked bread, spices she couldn't name, something sweet and nutty frying in oil. It made her stomach tighten unpleasantly as she realized she was actually hungry.


"Did I even bring enough vails to cover it? I have so much to learn still." Taylor whispers to herself.


====

The forge rang with steady, cheerful violence.


Clang—hiss—clang.


Ruby wiped sweat from her brow with the back of her glove, silver eyes shining as she lifted the blade from the quench. It was simple. Straight. Balanced.


Perfect.


"Well hey there, buddy," she said to the sword, giving it a gentle test swing. "You're not fancy, but you won't embarrass me."


She leaned it against the rack beside a growing lineup—short swords, daggers, bucklers. Nothing enchanted yet. Nothing flashy.


Practice.


The new forge felt right in a way she hadn't expected. The equipment responded smoothly, the mana channels Hel had etched into the floor humming in quiet approval as Ruby adjusted heat and pressure with practiced ease.


She bounced on her heels, mind already racing ahead.


"Okay, okay, next step is mechashift prototypes," she muttered to herself. "But no Dust rounds, which suuucks…"


She scowled at the workbench.


"If Weiss was here," Ruby sighed, "she'd have figured out a workaround by now. Probably something with those magic stones, but last time I tried that I blewup the guild training room."

 

[Common]

The table was too big.


Not physically—it fit the room just fine—but conceptually. A long slab of dark wood, polished smooth, with space for a dozen people who didn't exist yet. It made the four of them feel smaller somehow, like the chairs were placeholders waiting for more people to arrive. to arrive.


Hel had filled the table anyway. It was a veritable feast.


Platters of roasted meat sat at the center, juices still sizzling softly against carved stone dishes. Bowls of root vegetables… An they were fantasy vegetables at that to Taylor, she had never seen any of those foods before. Even while buying them at the market they were unfamiliar. Judging by the looks coming from Blake and Ruby they thought the same thing. Luckily Hel knew how to cook them.

Ruby was the first to actually dig in.


She didn't hesitate, didn't ask questions, just carved off a generous slice of the roasted meat and forked it into her mouth.


Her eyes widened.

"Okay. Nope. I officially retract all skepticism," Ruby declared around a mouthful. "I don't know what this is, I don't know where it came from, and I definitely don't know how it's prepared but this tastes amazing!"

She chewed thoughtfully, then nodded with solemn conviction. "This is officially a 'trust Hel with my life and my taste buds' situation."


Hel inclined her head a fraction. "Wise."


Taylor took her turn more cautiously, cutting a smaller piece and tasting it like she expected consequences. There were none—just heat and richness and a faint hum beneath it all, something that resonated oddly against her senses.


"…It's good," she said, after a moment. "Really good."


Blake watched them both for a few seconds before finally eating herself. The tension in her shoulders eased, not all at once but enough that she noticed it. Enough that it bothered her.


The normalcy was… loud.


She set her fork down, ears tilting slightly as she looked toward Hel. "So," she said, keeping her tone casual with visible effort, "do you know who might be joining next?"


Ruby paused mid-bite.


Taylor looked up.


Hel met Blake's gaze without hesitation. "I have a general idea, but unfortunately i couldnt give anyone specifics."

Blake frowned faintly. "And the rest of our team? Our friends?"


Hel folded her hands together on the table, expression thoughtful rather than evasive. "Every night I spend asleep I am searching limbo for them. Is there anyone you wanted me to look for Taylor?"

That earned her three very different reactions—Ruby going still, Blake's ears lowering, Taylor's shoulders tightening almost imperceptibly.


Hel turned her gaze to Taylor. "Is there anyone in particular you want me to look for?"


Taylor didn't answer right away.


She stared down at her plate, fingers curling slightly against the edge as names lined up in her mind—faces, voices, ghosts of unfinished conversations. The silence stretched, heavy but not uncomfortable.


"…Yes," she said finally, voice steady despite the tension beneath it. "There are people I care about. A lot."


"Tell me about them later, an I will keep my eye open for them." Hel answers


Everyone gets back to enjoying dinner before going to bed.

Hel nodded once. "Tell me about them later, and I will keep my eye open for them."


That was all she said. No promises she couldn't keep. No false reassurance.


That was all she said. No promises she couldn't keep. No false reassurance.


"I'm thinking of going to the dungeon tomorrow," Taylor said after a moment, deliberately shifting the conversation. "See if I can control the dungeon bugs."


Ruby froze halfway through reaching for another roll. "…The dungeon dungeon?"


"Yes."


Hel's eyes sharpened with interest, but she said nothing.


Blake glanced at Taylor, then at Hel, ears flicking with thought. "Can I come with you?"


Taylor looked up, surprised. "You want to?"


Blake nodded. "If you're testing control, having someone watching your blind spots seems… smart."


"I wanna come with," Ruby said immediately, then winced. "But I need to fix Crescent Rose first."


She sighed dramatically. "Priorities."


Taylor gave her a small nod. "That makes sense."


Hel watched the exchange in silence, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she saw them fall back into familiar rhythms—planning, compromising, looking out for one another.


"My children," she murmured, more to herself than to them.


The conversation drifted after that, winding down naturally as the last of dinner was finished. Soon enough, they parted for the night, the house settling into quiet once more—content, watchful, and very much awake to what tomorrow would bring.

 

[stads]

ya know part of me want tattletale and loki have an argue matching about all things :d

 

[Common]

Hel woke to fog.


Not the gentle kind that clung to mornings and rivers, but the thick, lightless haze of purgatory—cold, soundless, and heavy with unfinished ends. It curled around her feet and swallowed the horizon whole, as it always did.


Limbo.


She exhaled slowly, breath misting despite not needing to breathe.


"Back again," Hel murmured. "I was hoping to see Firelink."


The fog did not answer.


Hel began to walk.


Each step carried her deeper into the mist, her senses unfurling not as sight but as knowing. This place did not reveal itself to eyes so much as to intent—paths forming only once one committed to them.


The crying found her before the figure did.

There, crouched amid the fog, was the cat girl again—small, spectral, her ears flattened tight against her head as she hugged her broken sword, that Hel could tell once held a soul.

"You're still here," Hel said gently.


The girl looked up, eyes too bright in the dim. She didn't speak. She never did. Only watched Hel with a mixture of hope and fear, as though worried that being noticed might make her vanish.


Hel knelt, careful not to reach out.


"Not tonight, I feel if I approach closer I'll get wisked away again." she told her softly. "Soon. I promise—but not tonight."

The cat girl's lower lip trembled. She nodded once.


Hel rose.


She took one step forward—


—and the world slipped sideways.


The fog folded in on itself, swallowing her whole. Sound vanished. Direction ceased to exist.


Then it cleared.


Hel emerged into a different kind of shadow.


The mist here was thinner, stretched low across dark stone like a living veil. The air felt older—heavy with secrets, with oaths long broken and histories deliberately buried.


A voice spoke from behind her.


"You do not belong here."


Hel turned.


A woman stood a short distance away, tall and composed, with long purple hair that flowed like ink down her back. Her eyes were sharp, ancient, and entirely unimpressed.


."

"That's funny," Hel replied mildly. "I'm fairly certain I'm one of the premier authorities on all things death."


The woman's gaze did not flicker.


"You stand before the Queen of the Land of Shadows," she said, voice even and absolute. "Introduce yourself."


Hel regarded her for a long moment.


Then she inclined her head—not deeply, but enough to acknowledge a sovereign equal.


"Hel," she said simply. "Norse goddess of the underworld. Keeper of those who die without glory, without oath—"


She paused, just long enough for the silence to sharpen.


"—and I have an offer for you."


The mist stilled.


Even the shadows seemed to lean closer.


The Queen's eyes narrowed a fraction. "An offer," she repeated. "From a foreign death-goddess."


Hel's smile was thin, deliberate. "From a peer. I seek no dominion here. No souls bound to your realm. Only cooperation."


"Explain."


Hel folded her hands behind her back, posture relaxed in a way that made the tension worse. "How would you like to leave the land of shadows? An save humanity from an evil dragon that wishes the destruction of the world? A new adventure with new students to teach?"


"That, sounds like something I would enjoy." The purple haired woman states

Hel blinked and opened her mouth.

===

And then she was staring at her ceiling.


Hel lay still for a moment, the echoes of shadow and mist fading as reality reasserted itself around her. Stone. Warmth. The faint, comforting presence of her domain settled firmly back into place.


"…Damn," she muttered aloud. "That would've been an insane deal."


She sat up slowly, pale eyes unfocused for a second as she replayed the encounter in her mind—the Queen's gaze, the weight of unspoken rules, the near-agreement hanging just out of reach.


"I have to find her again."


Decision made.


Hel swung her legs out of bed and rose, dressing with casual efficiency. A simple green dress settled around her form, the color deep and rich against her pale skin

She stepped out into the familia's storefront.


Morning light filtered in through the front windows, catching on polished metal and sharpened edges. Racks of weapons lined the walls—swords, spears, daggers, shields—each one bearing the unmistakable mark of Ruby's hand. Clever designs. Clean work.

Hel walked slowly between them, fingers brushing close without touching.


"…She's getting better," Hel murmured, a note of pride slipping through despite herself.


This place was taking shape.


So were her children she just needed Taylor to start making spider thread armor and outfits, thenthis familia would become something truly unique.


Hel smiled faintly.

She walked to the front door, flipped the sign to OPEN, and prepared to see just how the city would receive them.

====

The Dungeon loomed.


It was impossible to miss—even surrounded by the bustle of Orario, the massive stone shaft descending into the earth pulled the eye like a wound in the world. Cold air breathed up from below, carrying the faint scent of damp stone, and metal.

Taylor stood at the edge of it, one hand resting on the grip of a bastard sword.


The weight felt… right. Balanced. Familiar enough.

Blake stood beside her, weapon in hand, posture loose but ready. Her ears flicked as she took in the sounds—the distant clatter of adventurers, the echo of footsteps vanishing into the depths, the low, ever-present hum of the Dungeon itself.


"So," Blake said quietly, eyes fixed on the entrance. "Still sure about this?"


Taylor nodded once. "Upper floors only. I already feel bugs down there it's just a question of if they are dungeon monsters or normal bugs living in the dungeon."

"Well lets do this then." Blake responds

 

[Common]

The first growl echoed down the corridor before Blake ever saw them.


"Five kobolds ahead," Taylor stated.


It wasn't a guess.


Although it appeared Taylor knew exactly where they were.


They rounded the bend, and the monsters came into view precisely where she had indicated—short, hunched humanoids with wiry builds, coarse fur matted along their limbs, and wolfish heads set low on their shoulders. Yellow eyes gleamed in the darkness as muzzles pulled back in low snarls.


"You are not just sensing bugs are you?" Blake asks


"No," Taylor replied, eyes never leaving the pack. "I'm sensing through them." A brief pause. "And those mangy mutts in front of us have fleas."


Blake blinked.


"…You can tell that?"


"Yes."


The kobolds growled louder, weapons lifting as they noticed they'd been spotted.


Blake exhaled, settling into her stance. "Great. Dungeon monsters and parasites."


Taylor adjusted her grip on the bastard sword, awareness already locked onto every twitch of fur and muscle ahead.


"Try not to step in anything," she said flatly.


Then the kobolds charged.

Blake moved first.


She vanished in a blur, reappearing to the side of the leading kobold as its club smashed into empty air. Her blade flashed once—clean, efficient—and the monster dissolved into ash before it hit the floor.


Taylor stepped forward to meet the second and third head-on.


She didn't rush.


Taylor stood her ground as they closed in, posture steady, eyes tracking every twitch and breath. These things were nothing compared to the monsters she'd fought before—bigger, smarter, relentless in ways kobolds simply weren't.


The first spear came in low.


Her sword snapped up in a controlled block, metal ringing sharply through the corridor as the blow glanced aside. It speared the Kobold trying to go around on her. n the same motion, she stepped in and drove her blade forward, piercing the third kobold clean through the torso. It let out a startled yelp before dissolving into ash.


The fourth tried to flank her.


It never made it.


A shadow snapped into place behind it—Blake's ribbon catching its ankle, yanking hard. The kobold hit the ground, and Taylor finished it with a downward strike.


The last kobold hesitated, ears flattening, yellow eyes darting between them.

"Boo." Taylor states


The kobold broke.


It turned to run—and died before it took its second step.


Silence fell over the corridor once more, the Dungeon's low hum reclaiming the space.


Taylor lowered her sword, listening.


Blake exhaled. "Well," she said, glancing at the fading ash, "that went about as clean as it could."


"Yes," Taylor agreed quietly. "…and there are more further down."

====


Hel was genuinely surprised by how many adventurers were checking out her store.


The bell above the door chimed constantly as new customers came and went, the sounds of boots scuffing stone and excited murmurs filling the air. Hands ran over polished blades, tapped shields, and tested the balance of spears.


"Wow… this is impressive," one young adventurer said, hefting a short sword and rotating it in his hands. "New smith in town?"


"Very," Hel replied smoothly, leaning casually against the counter. "And enthusiastic."


Coins clinked onto the counter with each sale, and the line only grew longer.


Hel allowed herself a faint smile. Looks like Orario isn't waiting for an announcement. They notice talent when it appears.


From the corner of her eye, she could see Ruby moving between racks, doing her best to restock with her practice pieces, although it was clearly a losing battle.

It would only get crazier once the custom clothing was made.

===

The Dungeon corridor was no longer quiet.


Blake stood very, very still.


In front of them, the stone floor rippled.


Not metaphorically—literally rippled, segmented bodies shifting in coordinated waves as dozens upon dozens of giant ants crawled into formation. Their chitinous bodies gleamed dully in the Dungeon's light, mandibles clicking in soft, rhythmic patterns. Each one was the size of a large dog, some bigger, their movements precise rather than frantic.


An army.


Blake slowly turned her head toward Taylor. "So," she said carefully, "I'm guessing this is what you meant by 'seeing what you could control.'"


Taylor stood at the center of it all, bastard sword lowered, posture relaxed in a way that bordered on unsettling. Her eyes were unfocused, attention clearly elsewhere.


Then the swarm answered.


A rising chorus of chittering filled the corridor—clicks, scrapes, and vibrating pulses that overlapped in a way that almost sounded like speech.


"Yes…"


Blake's ears flattened hard against her head. Her grip tightened on her weapon. "This is horrifying," she whispered.


And then—


The formation broke.


Without warning, the ants turned on each other.


Mandibles snapped. Chitin cracked. Bodies slammed together in violent, coordinated collisions as the swarm collapsed inward. What had been an army a heartbeat ago became chaos—ants tearing into ants, legs ripped free, acid sprays hissing as it ate into stone and shell alike.


Blake stumbled back half a step. "Taylor?!"


"Sorry about that, Blake," Taylor said calmly, already stepping forward as the first bodies began to dissolve into smoke. "That was a lot of ants, and we needed to get their numbers down if we wanted to leave safely."


Blake stared at her.


Taylor crouched, unfazed, and began collecting the glittering magic stones left behind as the monsters fully disintegrated, her movements relaxed and entirely unbotherd.

Blake watched in silence for a few seconds, ears twitching.


"…You planned that," she said finally.


"Yes," Taylor replied without looking up. "Controlled culling. Less risk than fighting them all directly."


She straightened, pouch heavier now, and glanced deeper into the Dungeon where the corridor sloped downward into shadow.


"Let's go down further," Taylor said evenly. "See what else we can find."

 

[stads]

so what are the odds the dungeon is getting a new phobia

 

[DavidMswdlvr2]

so what are the odds the dungeon is getting a new phobia

Click to shrink...

High

I would bet that after awhile, the Hel familia sigil alone would ward off monsters. I mean, we have overexcited Ruby clearing out whole floors in a blink, Taylor causing an internal massacre, potentially the immortal teacher of Cu of the Hax spear, Blake the stabby ninja cat, Weiss the mage who can steal monsters and fight in melee with RWBY as a whole, and Yang the Blondezerker who is more destructive than Ruby at her worst in their setting. Add to that Tanya and the Firekeeper….

 

[Aadarm]

She's trying to get Scáthach? That would be a win, depending on the version (is it's Nasuverse) it would be ridiculous to have an immortal God slayer who is an expert at everything that can teach others to be as good as her.

 

[Himera]

Bring the Godslayer to the city of the Gods, where there are such persons as Ishtar, Dionysus and Apollo.

I'm sure everything will be fine.