Chapter 18

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"Loyne, hi. How's it going?" The blacksmith turned to me and waved. He waved back at me, noting the slight stiffness of his movements. "Ready to copy?:

"Uh... hi! Look, here's the situation..."

Bad beginning.

"You're a rookie selling a driver's map? "The voice from behind was soft, but it was threatening. Or is it just imagination?

I turned and looked around at the man speaking. A half-elf in chainmail armor, with a guild cloak over it, and a long dagger on his belt. It was unclear what class he had. But he's at a higher level than I am.

"Hello. If you're interested in the map, you'll have to wait. I promised a copy to a friend of mine."

"I know. But we already had an agreement. Didn't we?"

Loyne immediately backed him up: "That's right, friend! I'll get it tomorrow, and the armor is ready, here." The shopping menu flashed, and I was offered a full set of armor.

I need to clarify something.

"I don't mind if you agreed, but the deal was - smith first."

"He conceded his right. Moreover, your elf-buddy also conceded, and tomorrow my co-guilder will come for a copy."

"And the day after tomorrow?"

"And the day after that. And for another ten days."

"It won't work."

The half-elf frowned. Judging by the rendering of his emotions, he was using a helmet like mine.

"Paladin, you don't understand. My clan needs this map, and I won't let you copy it freely, even if..."

"Hello, over! You don't suppose that I might have things to do in real life, and I can't log in every day?"

The half-elf calmed down and immediately smiled.

"No problem! You put me on your friend list and copy the map when you show up."

"It won't work. I took a vow not to reveal the name until the hundredth level."

"Stop being silly! I need that map. If you send it to someone, you can delete the char, you're not going out of town!"

I hummed and called up the settings for the general channels.

"For sale, a personal map from the first to the hundredth levels. Complete information on three dozen dungeons, all known quests, and monsters! Ten gold! Signing up for a copy queue!"

"You dare!" The guildmate held back a scolding. And let him swear, anyway, you can't kill a player in the city... without his consent.

"I dare. Do you still want to threaten me? So I'll throw the map to the first person I see, and in a week half the city will have it." I tried to smile charmingly. Already in the crowd could be heard shouting, Who's selling the map? I'll buy it! "But there was another way out."

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The half-elf, who had lost his smile somewhere, looked at me with a frown.

"And what is it? We only accept members into the guild on the recommendation of two members."

"I don't need your guild..." I tried to say it in a way that made it clear I had my own.

"I see. So, you are a guild paladin?"

"I am no one's paladin. I'm my own. Will you listen?"

"So?"

I raised my hand and began to curl my fingers: "One, you owe me a five-slot belt and a purchase of armor from the smith," I said, nodding at Loyne, who had been standing quietly at the side the whole time. "Second, have you given the money to the elf yet?"

The Guilder nodded.

"Good. So you'll pull him and the blacksmith through the raid you're arranging for the newbies. That's two."

"Wait, what raid?"

He kind of slowpoke. I switched back to the shopping channel.

"Friends! The map and all the rights to it have been purchased by the guild..." I looked questioningly at the half-elf.

"Flame of Anor."

"...by the Flame of Anor guild! By the sale agreement, the guild will hold two introductory raids for newbies! You can sign up for the raid at the guild house! At the end of the raid, a gift will be given to the most active participant. Hurry up, there aren't enough places!"

The half-elf cursed.

"Exactly. The most active will be, you know, who? Third, I give you my word that in this city I will not copy the map to anyone but you and the blacksmith. To him, I promised."

"And I'm supposed to believe you?"

With a shrug, I made my argument:

"I am a paladin of Amala the Healer. I must keep my word."

The guilder looked at me skeptically, and the guilder chuckled.

"Are you an idiot?"

Now I'm the one who snickered.

"One does not interfere with the other. But I intend to keep my word."

"All right. We'll boost your friends, but why others?"

"I care about the reputation of your guild. You do intend to keep this city, don't you? Well, let everyone know that the Flame of Anor always keeps its word and takes care of the newcomers," my very honest look clearly didn't work on him.

"All right. Blacksmith, give him the armor."

Loyne immediately handed me the gear, and I threw him the dungeon gear I'd beaten up in the dungeon to repair.

"Now the map."

Exchange. Copy the map, mark "full version".

Are you sure you want to pass on the full version of the map?

Yes.

The elf froze, looking at the map I couldn't see, and then he grunted. Meanwhile, I changed into my new outfit.

"That's fine. Come to the raid tomorrow at 7 p.m. CET."

"I'm not going. Business."

The half-elf was surprised but kept silent.

"I'm going to be showing up here. If anyone needs a copy, you're welcome to do it. I don't know how you'll find me, though."

"By the flower. There aren't many paladins in town."

"Flower?" I didn't know that way of identifying players. Is it some kind of slang or something?

"Right. On the scabbard. Those two stalls over there belong to the guilders' craftsmen, you can contact me through them." The guilder turned and left without saying goodbye.

The flower on the scabbard?

I looked around myself. There was indeed a blue pattern on the scabbard, a bellflower.

I wonder where it came from?

My scabbard only appears when the weapon is put away, and luckily is only a pattern on the character model, not affecting the movement in any way. And I definitely remember that yesterday the scabbard was without a pattern - I was looking at the leather and brass rings while I was waiting out in the rain under the shed outside the trading house.

"Hey, Paladin? You're not holding a grudge, are you?" Loyne was confused about something.

"Аh? I don't. Why would I?"

"Now all the profits will go to the Anor. It wasn't me, it must have been the elven boy, the idiot, who mussed it up while he was haggling."

"Forget it. I got what I wanted, I'll make you a copy tomorrow and be done with it."

"Well... okay, then. Too bad about the money, though."

"The hell with them; if I wasn't rich, I wouldn't start. Don't be ashamed to ask the guilders for a bonus for your trouble."

"I don't want to get pushy. They're angry now."

"Why is it?"

"Someone is auctioning off sixth-rank scrolls for the third day, knocking down the price. And "Anor" hold the market buffs, only they have in this backwater crafters of the fourth or fifth rank, the rest were forced out. Now they're pissed off, looking for someone who brought a high crafter here."

Great. Today I decided to go pumping in the morning and made blessing scrolls again until I managed to make one of rank six, which I put up on the way to the crypts. And when I came back, I found out that they were bought almost immediately. It's a good thing the auction here is anonymous.

"That makes sense. All right, Loyne, I'm going to pump up a bit. Good luck on the raid!"

"Thank you, Paladin. Good luck to you, too!"

When I left the market, I decided to stop trading scrolls. If I'm showing up in front of a half-elf as a player who might have high-ranking friends, I'll pretend to have three scrolls, just in case, and I've already spent them all. I have enough gold for my current expenses, and I don't need more.

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