Chapter 3
Stepping out of the whore house let me breath easier, though the smell of the poorer sections of the city were...unpleasant. The first light of morning looked to be on the horizon, as the horizon was lightening somewhat. I felt uncomfortable on the streets, but I had a pocket full of spare change and a vague goal: to dispel the dark clouds that seemed to hang over Jasmine's life, and to visit this Adventurer's guild. There was no particular attraction for me to it, but Aisha seemed of the strong opinion that Faith had wanted to join. So my options were really to wander around in a stupor, or actively try to accomplish something. A bad plan was better than no plan after all, and I could always change goals as I went.
Which left me out on the street, without a clue as to where this 'Adventurer's Guild' was located. As a chill wind blew through the streets, I noticed for the first time that I was only sparsely clothed. The long skirt I was wearing was torn from last night's altercation, a simple grey woolen piece to match a grey bodice and cream colored shirt. The thing was dirty, and had quite a few patches in it. I would have simply replaced it using the fabricate system, but...I had no idea how to make clothing, and I vaguely remember that ill fitting or poorly made clothes wouldn't move right, or would pinch in strange places. So I could purchase a new clothes, though I was apparently only given enough money to 'join' the guild, wherever the fuck it was.
With frustration, I opened the small bag, and found a few score coins, mostly copper with two or three silver. I had no idea what the conversion rate here was, nor what it could buy. Considering for a second, I thought about the 'Identify' ability, which caused a small window to pop up into my view.
1 Copper Cinta:
89.75% Copper, 10% Tin, and 0.75% lead. The base currency of the Empire of Atarack, and the Mercantile Guild. Readily used for its mechanical properties, high fatigue-strength and spring qualities.
1 Silver Cinta:
92.5% Silver, 7.5% Copper. Most common trade currency in the Mercantile Guild, worth 100 Copper Cinta.
The coins were roughly the same size, with the silver ones being the heavier of the two. Bringing up the fabrication system, I performed a material alteration, shifting the copper coins into silver ones, storing the coin designs in my 'library'. I hoped that this wouldn't get me in trouble, but I didn't feel like wandering around unarmed, with torn clothes, in the shitties part of town. The new weight was somewhat comforting as I looked for somewhere to put the purse...neither my skirt, nor bodice had pockets. Where the fuck did people keep their money?
Looking down I tucked the purse down the front of my bodice, causing an uncomfortable pressure on my chest. Well, at least I knew where my first stop was. Pockets, I was going to go buy pockets, and of course clothes to go with those pockets.
Putting one foot after another I found a road heading into town. Most of the shops were closed this early in the morning, though I found myself moving leisurely at a far faster pace than I was used to. Strange, considering that my height was shorter than my previous body. As I thought about it, a window opened up in front of me.
Divine Alacrity:
Deities can move much more quickly than mortals, with a base speed quadruple that of a base human. Every increase in Divine Rank 4x that of the previous rank (Warning, excessive speeds may have environmental effects).
Blinking, I did a bit of math in my head and swallowed deeply. So whatever the hell my normal walking speed was, times four to the power of my divine rank? I made a note of intentionally slowing down my walking speed in the future. God forbid I ran into someone. At the moment I just seemed to be...particularly fleet of foot, but if my divine rank went up I'd have real problems. I wondered if it slowed down my perception time at higher speeds. If not I'd find myself slamming into things constantly.
As the horizon turned warm shade of red and orange, I saw people starting to exit out onto the streets, which made finding a 'market' easier. At this point I was getting closer to the center of the city, and I could make out a large structure that looked a lot like the colosseum, though in far better condition, and with more of a baroque style to it than a roman. I first caught sight of it over the buildings, when the sky illuminated.
Grand Amphitheatre of Kisk
Serving as both a gladiatorial arena for the entertainment of the city of Kisk, training grounds for the city's special forces, and location of several seasonal 'plays', the Grand Amphitheatre of Kisk was founded three hundred years ago, 7250 I.E. (Imperial Era). It Replaced the Stadium of Archons, after a battle between the Duke of Caprice and the Prince of Fillium resulted in the previous building's destruction. The battle, over the hand of the Emperor's daughter's hand in marriage, resulted in a stalemate. Spectators who survived the duel tended to describe the affair as “One Hell of a Fight”.
“What the fuck did I just read?” I asked out loud. Where these people fighting with artillery? Shaking my head, and ignoring it for the moment, I finally found a clother. The place seemed relatively nice, well nice compared to the shit hole in which my mother...Faith's mother was living. I wasn't sure for how much that counted. The window front had a few nice looking dresses and suits, mostly crafted from silk brocade. There was however a suit made mostly from leather and cotton that I liked.
As I headed toward the entrance, a small group of people wearing expensive attire. There were three women, and two men, though one of the men was dressed more practically, with a few pieces of plate appearing from beneath cloth coverings, and chainmail under leather. He had a thin sword with cupped hand guard on his hip, and a scattering of knives around his person...Perhaps he was a bodyguard? Not caring about the particulars I followed behind them.
When I entered the floor clerks were engaged with the rich looking clients, so no one much noticed me as I went looking for price tags, a commodity that the shop seemed to be lacking. There were dozens of displays, with example patterns, all done in expensive looking fabrics. It was occurring to me that this place might not have quite what I was looking for, and was likely priced outside of what I could currently afford anyway. I was vaguely reminded of the saying 'If you have to ask, you can't afford it'. I still had the issue of needing clothes, and the lack of pockets on people's clothing meant 'custom' to me. So I'd need a tailor anyway, and I didn't feel like wandering through the streets in what I was currently wearing all day. At the very least I wanted pants, with pockets...lots of pockets, and maybe a gun or two, and a sword to discourage attackers, in case people didn't know what a gun was.
As I looked up toward the front counter, I saw one of the rich clientele, a lean middle aged man with greying brown hair and a goatee...he had a kind of Cardinal Richelieu vibe to him, not the historical Cardinal Richelieu, but more like Peter Capaldi's Cardinal Richelieu. Like an esteemed actor, he carried himself with a self-assured presence. I'm not sure why, but I liked him on sight...the three young women with him not so much. He emptied a small purse of gold coins, and white bars about the size of a credit card but a quarter inch thick, onto the counter.
1 Gold Cinta:
91.67% Gold, 5% Silver, 2% Copper, 1.33% Zinc. Common trade currency within the Empire of Atarack and the Mercantile Guild. Valued at 100 Silver Cinta.
1 Platinum Bak:
0.995% Platinum, .005% Silver. Trade currency within the Empire of Atarack, and the Mercantile Guild. Accepted internationally at face value. Worth 1000 Gold Cinta.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“Shit.” I muttered looking over at the money placed on the counter. It looked like I had underestimated the cost of things. As I thought about it, I realized that I had been making assumptions about rare metal values based on the world I had come from. For all I know, I was dealing with fractions of pennies with the copper, the silver might be equivalent to a dollar or something. I was in an upscale tailor's shop, so thousands of dollars for a single suit wasn't unheard of from what I remembered, and the rich guy was probably paying for all of them. Still, that means I was likely handed what was effectively lunch money, to go get a 'membership card'.
Pulling my purse from the front of my bodice, I looked at my money again, and frowned...I couldn't do this all the time, but I needed equipment. Sighing, I brought up the fabrication system again. The system still had volume left over to work with for both creation and alteration. I quietly altered the purse, enlarging it, and creating a stack of forty Platinum Bak, and a hundred gold cinta. Hopefully that would take care of clothing, boots, armor, weapons, and whatever the hell else I needed to buy. If I had anything left over I might find a bank for it. At a guess, I was assuming that maybe had enough for a car, if those types of things existed here. I could feel the excess weight in the bag...I didn't think it would fit down my front anymore.
As I looked the around, an older woman in simple garments approached me with a weary look on her face. She looked to have a sneer on her face, “This isn't a back alley. You need to leave before I call the city guard.” she said in a low voice, glancing back toward the other people in the store, probably making sure wasn't 'disturbing' them.
“Um..I have money. I just needed to buy some clothes.” I said, holding my pouch up, shaking it a bit so she could hear the jingling.
The woman didn't look amused as she growled at me, “You can take your copper elsewhere, guttersnipe. You smell like offal and I want you gone before you spread your filth.” the older woman said to me in harsher tones than before.
“It's not copper...I have real money.” I said, trying to assure the bitch...ur, clerk. I frankly couldn't blame her for concern given the state of my clothes. Opening the small bag, I showed the glimmer of gold and platinum to her, causing her to gasp.
“Thief!” she yelled, grabbing my arm, trying to wrench the bag from me. “Call the guard, we have a thief!” she called back to the front counter. AS she pulled closer to me, she got a look at my face, which seemed to shift between awe, and contempt. “What did you do, steal from a nobleman after bedding him, little whore?” she asked.
At this point, I was caught in a state of disbelief. On the one hand...her attitude was uncalled for, and I really wasn't sure what was causing this level of hostility. I honestly would have attempted to keep a passive civility, as the woman probably had honest concerns about a young girl in rags walking in with a few thousand in cash on her. However, when she called me a 'little whore', something in the back of my head ignited, and I started to see red. The rage boiled up from the depths of my mind, and before I even knew what happened, my free hand reached out and grabbed the from of her corset. I placed one of my feet on top of hers, and then kicked at her knee. There was a sickening crunch as the knee bent inward, and she started screaming. The limb fell to the side, but my hand guided her down in front of me, as I grab the one she was holding onto my arm with. I pressed my knee into her chest, supporting her weight, while I bent her fingers back, snapping ligament and bone.
As her screams grew louder, I grabbed her head and began slamming it into a display case beside me, cracking wood with every strike until she stopped screaming. Within moments a group of hands wrenched me away from the woman's bleeding form. My body running on autopilot, my leg hooked out behind the body of the person behind me, and ducking down as quickly as my body allowed, I tipped the body forward with me, twisting at the arm, and throwing it over my shoulder. There was a blur of motion, and the world seemed to slow down as the body of the bodyguard from before, slammed into the wall, leaving a massive dent.
I moved to continue my assault on the woman who called me a 'little whore', when a voice behind me called “PLEASE STOP!”. Maybe it was the please, but the voice was soothing somehow. As time returned to normal, the rage faded and I stared down on a bleeding and broken body of a elderly sales clerk. The bodyguard leapt back to his feat, unphased, but with a grin on his face, as if a battle lust had been stoked in him. He halted as he noticed I wasn't moving, while the other man came from behind me, pushing past me to reach the woman on the floor.
“Goddess of Purity and Mercy...let your grace fall upon those in need.” the man said kneeling down, a warm white and gold light washing over the injured woman's form. As I watched, her broken body mended, crackling as bones reset and ligaments healed. Blood faded into her skin, and wounds closed. A sense of 'calmness' washed over the area as the man continued to whisper ministrations.
“What in the seven sacred heavens?” the man healing the old woman asked, turning on me with anger on his face.
“...She called me a thief...she grabbed me!” I responded, feeling upset as the adrenaline left me. “She accosted me!” I said, as the man stood up. As I got a better look at him, I could see the lean fame of the man had a good bit of muscle on it. His blue and white robes had gold stitching in woven patterns across the hem and breast. His presence seemed stronger, and in the corner of my vision I noticed subtle shift in the environment as I calmed down.
“So you decided to brutally beat her within an inch of her life? You threw a two hundred and twenty pound man across the room. Surely you didn't need to do...that.” the man said at me. He glanced down at the half open bag of money in my hand. “And can you blame her for thinking it strange that you carried that much money...I wouldn't carry around that much, and I'm a bishop!” he said.
As I glanced at him, concentrating, my emotions were growing more volatile again, though the rage was gone.
Name: Bishop August Amon
Race: High Human
Age: 165
Sex: Male
Class: Priest 60, Noble 20, Knight 10
Subclass: Grand Healer 30
Profession: Doctor 30
Strength: 60
Dexterity: 100
Endurance: 75
Intelligence: 180
Power: 150
Luck: 90
Health: 850 HP Health Regen: 7.5 HP/day
Mana: 1800 MP Mana Regen: 30 MP/Day
Skills:
Athletics: 30/400
Climbing: 30/400
Herbalism: 150/400
Lore: 220/400
Medicine: 270/400
Oration: 170/400
Persuasion: 220/400
Sailing: 120/400
Survival: 80/400
Swimming: 30/400
Combat Skills:
Longsword: 160/400
Polearms: 60/400
Armor: 60/400
Blessings: Blessing of Tatiana, Holy Endowment
Traits: Healing Hands, Miracle Worker, Inquisitor's Mind, Supernal Health, Superior Magic Regeneration, Mantle of the Church.
“..She called me a little whore!” I responded with the last vestiges of anger subsiding, and a hint of remorse rising.
“Her insult warranted such barbarism? Will any slight bring out such wrath? If so, who is safe?” the Bishop asked me, with a hint of indignation. I looked at him, though he seemed a bit blurry. I was stuck in a state of confusion. My behavior was...strange. I wouldn't normally have done anything like that, but I just lost control. It was becoming hard to breath, as the implications of what I just did occurred to me. I had almost killed that woman...and I probably had killed at least one man last night. I felt horrible, and as I stood there looking at his blurred imagine, I let out a low murmur, my knees going weak again. I tried to wipe the blurring from my vision with my sleeve. The Bishop stared down at me, his anger fading to a look of concern and pity.