#zanjab

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can you tell who likes the other more

Songs referenced:

Jabber’s profile

Zanka’s profile

Most visitors tend to forget that this dungeon isn’t a typical country dungeon, with less than ten levels and clearable by most seasoned adventurers; the Tori City Dungeon is so deep that it has yet to be fully cleared. Countless adventurers have died– but the upper levels are at least relatively safe and a good hunting ground for both beginner and seasoned parties. 

“I’m sorry, sir. You need at least one more party member to be able to enter this dungeon, and they must be at least level fifteen.” 

Zanka recently turned level twenty, though most of his skills are B-rank or higher. He’s good for his level, but still just an average joe amongst adventurers. 

“I’m level thirty-three! Isn’t that enough?!”

To Zanka, that certainly is. Level thirty three would let them clear the first five floors without even breaking a sweat– under an hour and a half if they work quickly, even. From there, it’d get harder, but someone without a party with a level that high could really help Zanka’s own improvement. 

Alright. So I have an idea…

No, no, he shouldn’t. Who knows what this guy is actually like? Someone that talented with no party will have a reason for not having one; Zanka shouldn’t risk it. 

But without a party, he can’t make money, and rent is due. By himself, it will be hard to move into another party, and not to mention his attitude problems– which aren’t bad, and his very first party leader used to tell him they were amusing, but are enough to deter people who aren’t tolerant (that is to say, a lot of adventurers his age.) 

It’s worth a shot, Zanka thinks nervously, watching as the young adventurer with the four-foot-long locs begins to start talking more with his frantic hands rather than his mouth, What’s the worst that could happen?

A lot of things, another part of his brain responds, and it sounds an awful lot like his sister's voice, scolding him for being too hasty to jump in and making rash decisions.

What a shame that Zanka refuses to listen to that. 

“Hey, sorry,” Zanka says, coming up to the bench with the exhausted-looking Guild Manager, “Forgive my party member, we haven’t actually signed up together yet; give us a few, yeah?” 

The Guild Manager relaxes, nodding. “Head to desk thirteen to register your party, and then we can allow you into the dungeon; please ensure you acquire the relevant stamps and have completed the mandatory modules on party–” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” the previously irate adventurer scoffs, turning to Zanka with a strange look in his eye, “You… should come with me.” 

Swallowing anxiously, Zanka gives a slight nod, and the adventurer ushers him off to the side, away from the registration and toll desks and more into the crowd of adventurers milling idly about. 

The strange adventurer leans in close, and Zanka realises it’s too late to back out when he realises the teeth bared at him are elements of a smile, not a scowl. 

“You’re gonna be in my party?” the man says, a manic twinkle in his eye, “You’ve been down there before, haven’t you? In the dungeon?” 

There’s an eagerness to this man’s demeanor that has Zanka skeptical, unsure of whether volunteering for this man’s party was the right idea after all. Zanka is desperate for money, as is he eager to get some levels up and some invaluable experience in one of the five largest dungeons in the country, but not if it’s at the expense of his sanity. 

I shouldn’t judge off of a single interaction, Zanka scolds himself, shaking his head before offering a hand, Who knows? Maybe he’s a great guy, just new to the area. I’ve dealt with worse. 

“I’ve been down ‘ere a few times,” Zanka nods, “Zanka Nijiku, level twenty, and a run-of-the-mill fighter,” he introduces himself mildly, but jolts in surprise when the mystery adventurer snaps up his hand immediately, shaking it vigorously and making his mixed-metal bangles chime incessantly. 

“Jabber Wonger,” the adventurer says gleefully, “You can call me Jabber, everyone else did!” 

Did?! Zanka thinks hysterically, his heart stopping momentarily, Oh, lord, I might have made a mistake…

“Nice ‘ta meet ya,” Zanka says slowly, blinking once, twice, three times, “Um, Jabber. Ya seem pretty experienced for yer age, yeah?” 

Beaming, Jabber nods, and every time his head moves the metal clasps encasing well cared-for locs clink against each other; the man seems very loud and boisterious all around, but something in Zanka’s gut has him second-guessing his initial impression of the otherwise vibrant adventurer. After all, Zanka doesn’t know what Jabber’s Class is, and he has a feeling– rather, assuming that the rings and other jewellery over his body are enchanted items– that Jabber’s abilities lie instead in magic. 

When paired with a fighter like Zanka, one would assume they have decent battle chemistry, and the thought has Zanka a little excited. Maybe with Jabber, he really will improve faster than usual. 

Then, as if having properly processed the statement, Jabber's excited grin falls, and he pauses for a moment.

“Experienced?” Jabber says, visibly confused, “No, no, I just– I just like to try new things. I wouldn’t call it experience. Not in the traditional sense that makes your aptitude go up, no.” 

Zanka shrugs. “Whatever it is yer doin’, I’d like ‘ta team up with ya, if yer not opposed ‘ta it.” 

The request earns him a sly wink from the other as he beckons him towards desk thirteen. “But of course,” Jabber snickers, “We’ll have so much fun, Zanka!” 

“Right…” Zanka mumbles, “Fun.” 

Last time I heard someone say the dungeon was going to be ‘fun,’ I walked out with their severed arm in my pack, Zanka thinks weakly, looking Jabber up and down, but decides ultimately to keep that little anecdote to himself. At the very least, in terms of levels, Jabber is significantly stronger, but Zanka knows better than anyone that strength takes more than one form.

“Fun!” Jabber repeats, turning on his heel and marching up to the Guild Assistant at the desk, “Come on, my dear teammate. Let’s make a party out of this– get it?!” 

“I get it,” Zanka grunts, shaking his head but following without an argument. He can't tell if this is a huge mistake or the best decision he's made yet, but he know for a fact that there's no backing out now. 

“Welcome to the Adventurer's Guild,” the receptionist says with a painted-on smile, “How may I assist you today?”

Jabber grins. “I need to register my party!”

“Your party?” Zanka blurts, incredulous, “What do you mean, your party?! It's shared ownership, isn't it?!”

“Shared ownership, understood…” the assistant mumbles, jotting down something onto paper, “And your names, sirs?”

“Jabber Wonger, level thirty-three,” Jabber boasts gleefully, “And beside me is Zachary–”

“–Zanka Nijiku,” Zanka interjects hurriedly, stepping forward and pushing Jabber aside, “Zanka Nijiku, level twenty.” 

“Uh-huh, and your registered numbers?” 

Zanka exchanges a glance with the other adventurer, before simultaneously they both dive for their pockets and pull out their certifications, both stamped with bright-red ink that declares them to be official members of the guild. To become a guild member, one must be invited by another who has documentation– it’s the whole reason why Zanka had a party in the first place, and why being abandoned by that party stings all the more. 

“All good… Shared leadership?” 

“N–” 

“Yes, thank you,” Zanka says again, enjoying the scandalised look he gets from Jabber as the other hisses, “Shared.” 

“I’m higher level, though,” Jabber grumbles, “I’ll get paid more for my work.” 

“And that’s fine,” Zanka sighs, watching the guild assistant jot down more notes, “I need ‘ta get paid in experience.” 

“Oh, you do, don’t you?”

“Don’t say it so condescendingly!” 

“But how else would I mean it?” 

Zanka’s eye twitches. “Oh, you’re crazy.” 

Jabber grins cattishly. “That’s what they all say.”

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