Just like the guard had said, entering the second district hadn’t been easy. In fact, the guards – these ones dressed differently from the ones he had interacted with before – hadn’t even entertained letting him enter without seeing any credentials that he belonged.

Either proof of residence or the letter of a member from within inviting him were examples they gave.

Which he obviously didn’t have.

So, he trekked back through the city, away from the castle located in the center of town, and back to the outer wall. Feeling a little adventurous he chose to take another way back. He wanted to gain more understanding of the town he would call how provisionally so gaining an understanding of the local layout would be helpful. Trying to save some time he walked along alleys, side streets, paved roads, and the occasional backstreet to where he estimated the foreign goods market to be.

He did marvel at most of the buildings he passed. Contrary to the identical buildings made of a mesh of grown trees, clay, and stone in Blueleaf, the ones here tended to be more uniform in type. The ones here were from many different materials in total, but each individual building usually was made from a single type of building material. Some were clad in pure white stone; he was unable to determine the actual building material of that one because it looked like a single smooth block. Cobbled buildings were there occasionally as well, but as he passed through the city there was always only a single type of building to be found.

When Kent ran through a district that primarily consisted of hills of overgrown dirt, he finally realized what was going on. The separation of societal groups based on traits had been arbitrary to him, having only ever heard of it, but never experienced it. Nature traits were overrepresented in farming communities and most other types of traits were barely present in Blueleaf, making the concept conceptually un-intuitive.

Some of the trait alignments were obvious, like earth and the – admittedly large and impressive looking – dirt hovels, or black of igneous rock which he guessed were associated with fire traits. Though there were also a lot of buildings that looked like ordinary stone buildings, just made from wood alone. Any attribution to specific traits failed here.

After around fifteen minutes of walking along an imaginary path, he crossed a larger road. For the first time in a while, the walls were visible from here.

With the help of a few helpful guiding pointers, he managed to reach a marketplace. Whether it was the ‘foreign goods’ market was dubious, given that nothing screamed foreign at him, but Kent was aware that he was going to be a poor judge of that.

Once he got there, any resemblance of confidence he felt in making a mediocre sum of money, quickly wafted away. The count of traders was certainly upwards of forty or fifty and most were loudly negotiating with others. That was all well and good, however, none of the stalls looked anything like Kent imagined a spell core vendor to look. And the overall impression the market gave off was more pedestrian than what he had hoped for.

After some observation from the outside, he managed to find a few vendors that carried non-food-related items. The rest were selling a magnitude for foodstuff, offering woodworking expertise, what looked like metals – which might be interesting in the future –, or even selling the odd sculpture. One particular vendor that was visited strongly had several dozens of small boxes in front of them with several powders ranging from brown to reds and yellows.

Kent couldn’t tell what those were but based on the interest people showed it would be something good. He just didn’t know whether it was something good for him, as well.

He walked past the market stalls that didn’t carry items of his interest, a stand with bottles of various taints and liquids he thought were spirits, a vendor that offered fruits of various kinds, and several others until he stood in front of shoddy wooden construction that offered exclusively two types of items.

Weapons and accessories.

It hadn’t been his first choice, he had meant to consult the woman selling bottles first, in the hopes of her being in the business of alchemy, but that hope was dashed when all the labels around the bottles spoke of alcohol percentages.

Briefly, a Butterfly landed on a ring of light blue, as it moved on Kent directed his eyes to the vendor. The woman was looking at him with a bright smile, hands placed on the table, and a raised eyebrow.

“What can I do for you Kent?” asked the woman he had never seen in his life before.

Instinctually Kent reeled back. He hadn’t felt in danger from the woman before, but now, something about her knowing his name felt dangerous. Most likely not physical danger, not directly in any case. But knowledge was dangerous. He was about to move away in a totally not hectic manner, but now, in a town, that would be suspicious. his mind raced as he tried to come up with ways of disengaging.

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“You alright hon?” she asked. Her tone was completely at odds with the danger he felt. “I bet it’s the name, isn’t it? It’s what I’m good at. Knowing names, people, their wallets, and fitting products to customers.”

She winked and the gesture still felt threatening.

This is ridiculous. No way she is a danger to me. Not antagonizing me would be the best, if she knew about me being traitless, she would act differently, right?

Human – Notorious Shopkeep – Level 46

So not a grave threat. But a potential risk. What stats do shop keeps even have? Mind, Senses, maybe Vitality? Could I be overreacting? Maybe.

Kent wasn’t ignorant enough to flat-out ask the first vendor to buy his spell cores, rather he wanted information on their worth. And he certainly didn’t want to look like a potential robber and just run away after looking at what she presented.

“Uhm, I was merely browsing your wares. Good morning, Miss,” he responded. He would at least put up a token effort to get some information from the woman he decided. Working through fear would be helpful in the long run he figured. “Your casual mention of my name caught me a bit of guard indeed. I’m looking for trade primarily. Specifically, spell cores if you have any?”

“You don’t strike me as someone who has that kind of money,” she said with an eyebrow raised. “I don’t think I can help you with that Kent. You could try the dismemberer, he is a bit besides the overall market, in that direction,” she pointed towards the walls and the only street in that direction.

After a moment of seemingly considering she continued talking.

“You look like you could use a dagger. I don’t think I have something that would fit you, or hmmm odd. Come back once you have a mancus. Just some metal in general would do the trick? May I ask, are you a smith?”

“Maybe in the future,” Kent began, trying to figure out a way to get her to talk about spell cores specifically, but growing even more uncomfortable. “As of right now, I’m mostly interested in spell cores. Maybe you could tell me of someone else besides the dismemberer, or any other information that could help me.”

“Not even willing to acknowledge my question,” her smile had risen with each word, and Kent was just about done with the woman. “Must be something good… I see. It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me. Well, I’m sure I’ll hear about your stuff in a couple of years. I might have something for you then. Once you’ve made a name for yourself.”

Kent's frustration was now thoroughly outmatching his patience. Each word slightly nudging him further away from even standing next to the infuriating woman. If she didn’t want business, she wouldn’t get his.

He would remember his unhelpful attitude and, if he ever had more wealth, not buy from her. It was a pity, and he didn’t care anymore.

“In that case, I bid you farewell,” and he walked away.

After the more than frustrating exchange with a woman he later learned sold maybe one item a month, Kent had talked with three different stall owners until he left, somewhat mollified by the complexity of spell core trade.

As it turned out, spell cores cost several hundred Styca at least. Which was equal to a couple months' pay for most hired field workers – who earned around five sceat in a month. At an exchange rate of roughly ten styca in one sceat that would be upwards of four months of work.

Quality and thus size, which were roughly correlated, effected the worth by a fairly large degree. The system ascribed values or ‘minor’, ‘common, and so were multiplied by a regionally determined multiplier. Spell cores with aspects or ‘Relocation’, ‘Omnidirectional’, ‘Ground speed’, and ‘Quiet Movement’ had been mentioned as a sort of local specialty, and with his recent experiences, Kent could somewhat match the types to the different monsters. The former two were most certainly associated with drop-pigs, and the other two with scramblers.

Most other types that hadn’t explicitly been mentioned weren’t rare though, just not as plentiful. According to Timo, the weapon seller he had talked to previously, a-typical spell cores were associated with higher-level monsters that lived further away from human population centers. The exception being elemental alignments. Those weren’t common here, thanks to the rather mellow regional affinity of nature. At best one might find an elemental alignment of plant or nature in a spell core he claimed.

Oddly enough, no one had mentioned tranquility as a local specialty, which made Kent feel just a little bit bad, as though he had destroyed a new source of wealth for the local region.

What it did mean though, was that one could fetch a price of a dozen sceats at least.

With ten of the bronze styca or a silver sceat, Kent could most likely live in town for two weeks. During those sixteen days, he would have to watch his spending, but it would allow him for some self-sufficiency. The remainder of what he might earn he would place towards equipment – metal equipment. What he needed most were a few more daggers or even metal tipped arrow, arm guards, and some light armor.

With a mancus, he could potentially fully equip himself with light armor and be able to move further away from where any of Blueleaf’s villagers might identify him as traitless.

But that would have to wait until he found someone to house and feed him in a manner that would allow for entrance into the second district.

Timo, who had been most helpful after Kent had shown him his thaumic dagger, had told him of a few options available in town for people with less advantageous traits.

He had food for the rest of the day, and most likely tomorrow. At that point, he would be forced to visit the orchards of the town and help himself if he couldn’t find employment. With things the way they were he didn’t feel good about stealing any longer, that’s why it was a last resort.

The descriptions to the works, as the local hiring post was apparently called, had instructed Kent to follow the walls back to where he had entered the city and a bit further.

He followed the main road along the wall this time. Not only to avoid the sometimes-confusing maze that Farburg was but also to not waste time he could spend well otherwise. There was also an element of fear. Districts, he had been informed, were patrolled. City guards and sometimes even militias were employed to keep certain types of traited outside of specific districts and he did not care to be investigated by one such group. It would be just his luck to be exiled again due to being randomly questioned.

He passed the gate and even greeted one of the officers he had seen there the previous night – manners matter – when a familiar voice called his name.