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Ch. 21 - Pointed Fingers

Ch. 21 - Pointed Fingers

“How much?” says Everton, trying to come to terms with it.

The furrier had finished counting out the coins. Forty six boars had produced eighty two tusks, at roughly three point five silver per, and one lizard skin, for a total of three hundred and five silver, and some change.

“How long were you out there to get so many?”

“Bit more than three hours,” says Riley.

“That's one every...”

“Lucy is an unrelenting taskmaster,” says Wolfe. “It's tough keeping up.”

“Why spend all day going at half speed when you can get everything done in half that, or less? Besides, the only reason it went so smooth was because of you guys. You more than kept up.”

“If you say so,” says Riley. “I'm just glad we didn't have to skin them today.”

“That was for building character, Evie. Maybe we should go back to that tomorrow, help you build some more.”

“Yeah, I bet,” she says, laughing, “you twisted bitch.”

“I'm serious.” Stopping her laughter short. “When are you going to hit level 4?”

“A couple hours.” Grudging, obviously not liking my tack. “I hit 4, um, a bit back.” says Wolfe.

“Experience from the boars isn't going to be that great tomorrow, especially since it's split three ways. We need to move on. I'll try and come up with something more exciting.” They'll probably rebel at heading underground, should pick something outside the city again. “Besides, this money is chump change. Nice for starting out, but nothing special.” Everton, Walker and Morgan sharing a look at that. “But Evie, I'm going to need your help with it. Are you in?”

“Do you really-? Fine, you owe me for this.”

“Of course. Kate?”

“I'm in.”

Turning back to the furrier, pulling out one of the disjuncted stones and holding it up.

“What can you tell me about this?”

“Let me see that,” he says, before taking it in his hand and inspecting it. “Well, I don't buy these, but I think I know someone who might. Your best bet is a small shop up by the Mage To- uh, I mean, House Mink. It's called Ink's Charms. If they don't want it, they'll probably be able to direct you to someone who will.”

“Run by one of us, or you guys?”

“One of ours, but you could probably find some of your people who'd want to buy this, too.”

“Okay, thank you.” Getting the stone back and then turning to Riley and Wolfe. “You want to deal with this now or after lunch? Sounds like it'll be worth something.”

“You can do that now,” says Everton, interrupting our conversation. “We need to head over to the herbalist.” Yep, Tree Sprites. “Want to meet at The Red Lion for lunch? It's an inn near Stormhawk.”

“We'll see you there,” says Riley.

Walking northward toward House Mink.

“So what'd you think of him?” she says.

Glancing over at Wolfe to see what she'd respond, but finding her looking at me. An awkward silence descending. Wolfe coughing. Glancing over at Riley. She'd been looking straight at me. Naturally. Conned into going to their stupid dance, conned into a playdate for that dance.

“You talking to me?” Wolfe trying to hold back a laugh, and failing, Riley not even trying to hold back. “Which one did I get stuck dealing with?”

“Lucy,” says Riley, “that's why I like you, your innate sense of duty. The one on the right. Tim. Figured he'd be best for a shorty like you.” Finishing the sentence by patting the top of my head.

Tim. He hadn't said a word, though he did smile at my partially joking suggestion to rob them.

“You want to know what I think about them?” Riley's smile slipping. “I think they're still fighting Tree Sprites and they've already been evicted from the dorm. I think that's pathetic.”

“I think,” Riley nodding slowly and speaking in a measured tone, “you're not necessarily wrong, per se, but maybe you're being somewhat overly critical. They may not know any better. We hadn't even done that, if you recall.”

“That speaks even more highly of you. You've already proven you're worth at least ten of them and don't you forget it.”

“I won't,” she says, blushing. “Thank you.”

“You either, Kate. Staying in the dorm because you don't know what to do is completely different than actually venturing out into the world and then staying at Tree Sprites. It's bottom feeder, hand to mouth behavior.”

“Lucy,” Wolfe lightly hitting my shoulder, “don't be such a bitch.”

“Okay, okay, okay, okay.” The two starting to gang up, poking me with their fingers from both sides. “You want me to deal with him, I'll deal with him.” The two relenting and regarding me with satisfied expressions. Catching my breath. “What's his class, anyway?”

“What's that matter?” says Riley.

Should bring it up. Class selection and what it said about personality. Are people multifaceted? Yes. Does that mean they can't generally be categorized? Of course not. Knowing someone's class is an incredible advantage, for everything, personality type secondary only to abilities. Could say, for instance, the general characteristics of a Thief. Less trustful of authority, more individualistic and typically more chaotic: when the guild got shut down - with everything lost a lot of hard words said and a lot of fingers pointed - we'd all split. Huh, thinking about it now, what about a Runemage? Don't recall meeting any of those in any sort of fight. The only one that even springs to mind is Matheson and she, unfortunately, had been waylaid along the path of life. That fact more than evident given the state, and smell, of her apartment.

The two looking back at me expectantly. Had stopped walking for a few moments.

“Oh, sorry, lost in thought.” Catching up and continuing to walk. “It matters because it's important. It's the single most important thing to know about someone here. It provides, I don't know, a guess of a guess. The system analyzes people and then gives them their class based on that. That's how you wound up with what you wound up with.

“Wait, what?” says Riley.

“So, Warriors, for instance, straightforward, not typically the brightest, but physically capable. There are exceptions, but really only by degree. As to whether they're good people, or bad, could be anything.”

“That sounds...” Wolfe trailing off.

“That's how it works, and it makes sense, different people are naturally inclined to do different things, so why push someone not suited to something toward it? You don't. Listen, I'm telling you this because you need to know. Pay attention to it from now on and you'll see exactly what I mean.”

The two glancing at each other and then back to me. “Alright,” says Riley. “Sure,” says Wolfe.

“Hey, Lucy,” says Riley, after a moment, “what are Runemages usually like?”

“I, uh, what do you mean?”

“I was just wondering if every single one was a grade A bitch.” The girl starting to poke me again, and Wolfe joining in from the other side.

“okay, okay, okay, I'm sorry, stop, that tickles”

Arriving at the shop after declaring peace ten minutes earlier. A solitary building, two stories, the slanted roof off to one side. Irk's -harn- visible on the sign. Both steps on the landing creaking on each step. The doorknob loose, a jingling bell, and then into the shop. A strange combination of smells inside. Sulfur, certainly, with others, earthy and sharp. A tingle in the air and a low buzzing. The counter in front of me covered with a small pile of papers and various jars of different substances. A child, about ten years old, sitting on a stool behind it. Walking up to the child, expecting a problem, but the boy only giving me a slight squint before saying, “If it's important I can get my Mom. Are you placing an order or picking up?”

“I'm selling. Give this to your Mom.” Pulling out one of the disjuncted stones and handing it over.

“Okay.” Hopping off his stool and walking to a side room. “Moooom.”

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

A shuffle in the room over, voices, a woman and the child talking. A pause and then steps coming from the room and a woman's voice calling out. “Whoever you are that brought this, I hope you can bring-” Stopping after catching sight of me. Blinking. Looking at Riley and Wolfe, but then back to me. The cheerful, lighthearted facade cracking. Becoming speculative. Hungry.

“Ms. Macarthy,” she says. “I believe this may be the first time we've met. Do tell me if this is your handiwork.”

“It is.”

“And, do you have any others?”

“I do.” Pulling out the rest, six more like the one in her hand, and the other, slightly larger. Laying them on the counter.

“Very pleased to meet you.” Holding out her hand to shake mine. “I'm Cynobel Inkathius but, please, call me Ink.”

“Pleasure's mine, Ink.” Releasing her hand. “What can you offer me for these?”

“Straight to business, I think we'll have a very productive relationship.” Peering at the stone in her hand. “These look to be from smaller specimens, so I think a price that's more than fair would be twenty five and, for this other one, twenty eight.”

Riley reaching out and squeezing my arm.

“Now, Ink, I appreciate your assessment, but that's simply too low. A more fair price would be thirty five for these smaller ones, and then thirty eight for the other.”

Riley squeezing my arm harder and giving a slight shake of her head. Don't worry, got this.

“Ms. Macarthy,” Ink producing an affected laugh, “I love that you're pretending to know anything at all about these. It's making you say the most outlandish things. But I understand you're just starting out. Again.” Grinning wickedly at that. “So you want to make sure you're getting the most for your effort. Twenty eight for each of these, and thirty for this one.”

“You're right, I don't know much about these,” giving her a deadly serious look, “but I do know that you seem to want them very, very badly. Thirty for these, and thirty two for the other.”

“Thirty and thirty two.” Muttering to herself. Looking at me, looking at the stones. “Agreed.” Reaching out her hand to seal the deal. Riley squeezing my arm and Wolfe grabbing the other. Okay, okay, hold it in, let's wait to get outside. The woman counting out the coins. “Sorry, I'm short on silver, do you have some in exchange for gold?” Handing over twenty eight silver in exchange for three gold coins.

“Thank you, Ink. Very much appreciated.”

“No, Ms. Macarthy, thank you,” she says, before nodding at Wolfe and then Riley. “I most sincerely look forward to your next visit.”

Out the door and down the steps. The door closing behind us and then breaking out in celebration.

“That almost doubled the money.” Riley sounding incredulous.

“I know, thought we'd get something for them but that was way more than I expected.”

Wolfe spending a few moments staring at shop door before giving a slight shake of her head. “Alright,” she says, pulling out the rest of the silver, “let's divvy it up.”

Ninety two silver each, and one gold coin. The extra silver piece they gave to me.

Arriving at The Red Lion, crowded for lunch, but some tables still available. Doesn't look like the guys had arrived yet. Going over to a round table for six and arranging ourselves in every other chair. Signaling to the waitress for three pints. Coming back and putting them in front of us.

“It's a bit early, isn't it?” says Wolfe.

“Nah, it's after noon already and I've got an announcement.” Waving my finger. “Awards for today. Most valuable: Evie.” My finger going to her. “That spell you cast just before we started and your blasts of light were incredible. And the bread, that bread was so good.” Giving her a little applause. Wolfe momentarily covering her mouth, but then joining in. “Next: Kate. You really knocked 'em out. You'd have placed higher but I don't think we even took any real damage. Well, no, a bit, but nothing crazy. Hey, wait, you said you hit level 4, what'd you get?”

“It's good.” Not elaborating further, “I'll, um, show you in a bit. You'll love it.”

“Can't wait.” Riley joining in with my applause and Wolfe giving a half bow in her chair.

“And last, but certainly not least, moi, the mage pulling mad money out of thin air. You guys killed it today. Let's drink to that.”

Raising my mug in toast and bringing it together with a clink. Chugging down the whole thing in one go before slamming it on the table. Riley and Wolfe starting to drink but then stopping midway to watch my antics.

“Thirsty?” says Wolfe.

“You bet. Besides, I don't plan on being a hundred percent sober when dealing with these guys. We'll have a better lunch all around.”

“I'll drink to that,” says Riley. Downing hers and slamming it on the table, as well.

“You're a bad influence.” Wolfe's accusation. Glancing at me, glancing at Riley, but then following suit.

The waitress coming over with Wolfe still mid-drink, “Would you like-” The mug slamming on the table and interrupting the waitress.

“Kate, we can't bring you anywhere, can we?”

Shock and foam coating her upper lip.

“Sorry about my friend,” says Riley, clicking her tongue at Wolfe. “She's a bad influence on us.”

“Wait, really?” Wolfe now more than sufficiently flustered and going a shade of red. “Fuck you.”

Riley bursting out laughing, and me joining in. The waitress standing there with a slightly strained, but still patient expression.

“Nah, I'm good. You can take these away. Maybe some sweet tea for me.”

“Could I get some apple cider?” says Riley.

“Water.” Wolfe's face still heated.

The guys finally wandering in a couple minutes later, finding Wolfe and myself simulating what had happened earlier today by using our fingers on the table. Riley watching us over the rim of her cider. This particular boar had decided to ignore us completely and chase after Riley instead. We'd been arguing over the specific route she'd run and trying to most properly imitate the face she'd been making at the time. Lifting my hand up from the series of drawn vowels and giving the three guys an overly cheerful wave. Looking like the sorriest group of sadsacks, between their clothes, a combination of new and some stuff clearly from the bin, and their expressions. Maybe they'd had an argument on the way over. Filling in the empty spaces at the table, Walker between Wolfe and Riley, Everton between Riley and me, and my assigned burden, Morgan, between Wolfe and myself.

Their presence immediately sucking all the regained good feeling out of the room - they must've had a fight - monosyllabic communication to each other and to us. Riley trying to speak with Everton, but not making much headway. One drink is not going to cut this. Had been preparing to deliver lighthearted mockery cloaked in saccharine sweetness, but that would be completely wasted on their desert air. Our orders taken by the waitress. Their worst sin of all? Boring. Not going to subject myself to an entire meal of this.

“Hey, I got a question.” Tapping my hand on the table to demand attention. “It's a question I asked myself, it's a question I asked Kate and Evie, but none of us really had any good answers. Evie, don't give me that look.” Riley tilting her hand in do-as-you-may gesture, and then taking another drink of her cider. “Just so we're clear, first,” pointing my finger at Everton, Walker and Morgan in turn, “you're all out the dorm by this point, right?”

The three not reacting for a couple moments, but then Everton breaking the silence. “Yeah, for a few days now.”

“Okay, I wanted to make sure I wasn't unnecessarily busting your balls. If that's the case what are you doing fighting Tree Sprites? And don't tell me that was just today, I see what you're wearing. You probably don't have a gold between the three of you. Explain yourselves. That's pathetic.”

Everton blinking several times and then gritting his teeth, his words coming out terse and full of emotion. “Explain ourselves?” The guy leaning over and sneering down at me. “Who the fuck do you think you are? I don't have to explain anything, especially to some snide little shit like you.” Punctuating the last word by jabbing his finger. The digit, however, not hitting my shoulder, instead running directly into the suddenly crackling barrier. Being forced to bend backward after the initial impact. The guy reeling in his hand, surprised, and nursing his finger.

“Watch yourself.” Feeling the all too familiar mania.

“Now, Lucy,” says Riley, a ghost of a smile on her lips, “be nice.”

Wolfe glancing at me, taking a moment to decide, but then glaring at Everton.

“That was amazing.” From Morgan, behind me. “How'd you do that?”

Watching Everton for a moment. Nah, doesn't look like he's going to press his luck. Turning back to Morgan.

“It's pretty great, isn't it? It's mostly good for blunt applications, I'm still trying to work out fine control. Like, I can use it to pick up my glass right now,” lifting it not even an inch off the table and then setting it down, “but I'm worried I'm going to break it. But that's nothing, Evie make some of that bread.”

“I'm doing party tricks now?” Reciting the words anyway, producing a piece of bread and then passing it around, then five more times. The three of them watching the bread materialize into existence with open mouths.

“Now, this is something.” Taking a bite. Maybe even better than it had been in the morning. “Kate, if you want,” glancing at Everton, still messing with his finger, but Wolfe subtly shaking her head. Huh. “But why are you guys so surprised? Surely, you...must...have...”

Oh, those bastards. Had been worried about the people still in the dorm, but here these guys got kicked out without ever learning anything. This is a much more serious problem than it seemed. Likely the whole incoming group, in one way or another, had been stunted. And those that did manage to get by had gotten impressed into one of the houses.

“You guys never got any training, did you? Not one of you. Those motherfuckers.” The rest of the table surprised, but Riley giggling at my sudden vehemence. “We're going to fix this right now. You,” pointing at Morgan, “what's your class.”

“Um, it says Magus.”

Couldn't hold back the laugh. A goddamn Blood Mage, my supposed date to the dance. Finding an uncertifiable Blood Mage would be like finding a vegetarian snake. Help this guy? Good lord. Taking a deep breath. Then again, where's the relative harm in adding another horror to the world when there are already any number of others wandering around? Could even wind up getting along, and probably still end up having to kill him. Collecting myself.

“Okay, you need to go to House Mink. You should be able to find someone who can point you in the right direction there. That's how I managed to find my master. You,” pointing at Walker, “what's your class.”

“Paladin.”

Explains a bit from earlier, we'd likely never really get along. Personality conflicts. He's going with Wolfe, though? Not a bad match.

“That's easy. Go to the temple. And last, you,” pointing my finger at the still sullen Everton. Annoyed because of earlier, or because of now? “C'mon, don't be shy. It's for your own good.”

“Warrior.”

“Oh, that's even easier, go to Stormhawk, there's loads of them there. Alright, that wasn't so-”

“I tried,” he says, halting my momentum, “they wouldn't let me in.”

Recalling my earlier issues getting in the Stormhawk door. They'd probably let me and Riley and Wolfe in as a group merely to try and get a sniff of some panties, but looks like these guys may have trouble.

“Alright, after lunch we'll go with you to Stormhawk, see if we can talk them into letting you in. If asking doesn't end up working I think I know something that will, but it'll probably be a little dangerous.”