Back to work the next day, submitting my schedule change request in the morning and reading the approval after the shift. My temporary schedule starting next cycle: two days at work, then four off for the trip over. Two at work, the middle day off, two more at work. Then four off for the return trip, and then back to the normal five day loop.
Getting back into the grid, tonight's midnight special at this establishment, pork roast, scalloped potatoes and some greens. And a stout. Several of us coming in, the others bringing the food to their rooms. Sticking around the common room, finishing my food, and then packing it in for the night. About to fall asleep and then the tick, level 10. Swimming and climbing are solid, but we're going to be heading over the pass on the trip, so add more. Continue with climbing until rank fifteen, and maybe swap back to swimming after that. Maybe start doubling up Perception? Dang, not enough free points. Maybe after Transference hits five.
Name: Lucilia Macarthy Profession: Runemage Level: 10 Sex: Female Experience: 34,881 (7,210) Age: 20 Until Next: 8,869 Health 77 Mana 65 Stamina 33 Spirit 8 Strength (STR) 56 (3) Constitution (CON) 63 (6) Dexterity (DEX) 68 (14) Agility (AGI) 87 (18) Discipline (DIS) 76 (13) Aura (AUR) 81 (15) Logic (LOG) 72 (16) Intuition (INT) 75 (17) Wisdom (WIS) 44 (-3) Influence (INF) 76 (13)
Name Trainings Bonus Armor Use 6 29 Physical Fitness 11 48 Simple Weapons 11 48 Arcane Symbols 16 62 Magic Item Use 11 48 Harness Power 11 48 Mana Control 11 48 Runemancy 11 48 Arcane Lore, Shaping 11 48 Arcane Lore, Transference 4 20 Survival 11 48 Perception 11 48 Climbing 11 48 Swimming 10 45 First Aid 11 48 Trading 11 48 Stalking and Hiding 11 48
Sitting at the West Gate the next morning, five after nine. Had been here for fifteen minutes so far, again. Neither Riley nor Wolfe had come. Statistically, one of them should have been here, either this time or the last. Statistically, that should be the case. But maybe they're not going to show. Maybe they had only put up with me because they didn't think they had any choice.
Had asked Kate what she thought about me, how crazy. Less, she had said. Less than what? Maybe somewhere between a hatter and a march hare. Maybe that was it. And a month from now, or several, we'd run into each other, somewhere, and they'd pretend they didn't see me and they didn't know me. Probably for the best, everything in my path had ended up dead. The guild, my old friendships and, most recently, myself. So maybe they're only looking out for their own best interests. Why meet up? A false promise from a false friendship, loosely conceived by circumstance and physical closeness. Everything else is gone, what does it matter if that last tenuous thing goes as well?
Sinking down on the side of the road with my head in my hands. Losing all motivation to do anything. A sudden urge welling up, the desire to get some of the sweet smelling resin only to spend the rest of the day blotting everything out.
“Lucy,” a voice calls from off to the side. Clambering to my feet, vision blurring, and running that direction, tears freely streaming down my face.
“Kate, I'm sorry,” barreling in, “I'm so sorry.”
“What's wrong?” The girl says, floored, and buried in my hug.
“I'll try to be a better friend. I didn't think you were coming. I thought you never wanted to see me again.”
“Where did this come from?” she says, returning the hug. “You are such a mess. What happened to you having it all together?”
“I don't know.” Petulant and sulky, nose clogged.
“I'm glad to see you, too,” she says, letting me cling to her. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I'm,” pulling away and using my cloak to dry my face, “I'm much better, now. Hey Kate, I was wondering if you want to go on a trip for the next couple cycles. Out west. A real adventure.”
“Out west. Why? Doing what?”
“Joining up with Ishtar for their trip. Caravan duty. Figure we get out of this town for a bit.”
“I don't-” The girl caught off guard and hesitating. “I don't know that I can leave right now. I've been,” struggling, her voice getting quiet,” I've been having nightmares from what happened. Seeing you just now, I forgot how strong you are. But you're already getting over it, aren't you? Getting it all back together. Several days ago, at the inn, it was the same thing. You had just died, you literally just died, but you were basically fine. You worried about me, instead.”
“That's an even better reason to come. It'll be a nice change of scenery and it'll get your mind off it.”
“I don't know if I'm up for it. I'm not as brave as you are. You were actually prepared. You ran in and tried to fight that thing and I even said something awful to you about that. I'm really sorry, but I don't know if I can. Not now.”
“Is that really why?” My face starting to uncontrollably frown as a second wave threatened.
“I'm sorry again.” Pulling me in for a hug this time. “I insulted you again trying to say something nice. But yeah, that's why. That, and I already told Matt I'd help him.”
“Ah ha, the truth comes out.” Giving me a guilty look. “You really like him that much?”
“He's better than I deserve.” A coy glance to the side and the beginnings of a blush. That's how it is, huh? Good for you, Kate.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“That's a much better excuse. Why didn't you tell me that first?”
“I didn't want you to think I was blowing you off for some guy I've only gone on one date with - if you can even call that a date.” Looking down, muttering. “And I really have been having nightmares.”
“Kate, you're braver than you give yourself credit for.” Giving me that guilty look again. She doesn't believe me. She didn't have the vantage point to see herself at the gala. “In that case, we're not going outside today. Oh, wait, have you seen Evie, what's her schedule?”
“I saw her yesterday. She's got one, three, five off. I've got three, four, five.”
“That works out okay, I've got two, four, five. We can all meet up tomorrow.”
“Yeah, we-” Stopping, and cocking her head. “What do you mean we're not going outside today? You look ready to go.”
“We're going somewhere else in order to help you. We're going underground.”
“To help me. What does that mean? I don't know if I like that look on your face.”
“Kate, this is to help you.” Definitely doesn't believe me now. My smile growing. “You said you're not brave, but that's not true at all. You're plenty brave, and this is to help make you braver.” The truly unsettling things are further below, anyway.
“Fine,” she says, clearly fighting against her better judgment, “I'll go. But, just so you know, I've got a lunch date with Matt at one. I was thinking about inviting you, but I'm going to hold off on that invitation until after we get back.”
***
“I've never been so happy to see daylight,” says Wolfe, while shielding her eyes as she emerges from the sewers. “Those white lizards weren't so bad, well, until they opened their mouths, but those other misshapen things-”
“Blind Stalkers.”
“Those things skeeved me out. Their faces, their hands. Paws.” Shuddering, her hands mimicking their grabbling claws. “Whatever they are.”
“It'll help you with your nightmares.”
“It'll make them worse!” she protests.
“I really liked that new spell you used, that was great.”
“I never thought I'd use it. I never imagined a scenario where something so horrible would be justified. But one look at those things and all my hesitation went right out the window. You really are a bad influence.”
“When you start sleeping better I expect a full apology.”
“If that happens,” she says, while removing one of her gloves and shaking off the grime, “you'll get it.”
“That's all I ask. Am I invited to lunch?”
Clearly fighting against her better judgment again. “If you'd like.” Wolfe removing her other glove and shaking it out. “I wish we had some more time to get this stuff cleaned.”
Walker less than enthused to see me intrude on his lunch date, but his mood improving considerably after seeing my pint duplication trick. Promising to meet Wolfe at the West Gate the following morning, and also to give her the cut from today's Disjunction and skinning. Heading to the furrier first to sell the newt skins, and then heading up to sell the pebbles from yesterday and today.
“This is quite a nice haul,” says Ink, using a magnifying glass on each of the materials from the manticores, newts and stalkers. “These ones in particular,” indicating one of the black stones, “I think are going to be very interesting. I don't have enough coin on me to pay for these, but let me write a bank note and they'll sort you out down there.” Handing me a note in the amount of two thousand two hundred fifty silver.
“I'm heading out of town for the next few cycles with Ishtar on their caravan route. While I'm out in the desert, is there anything you think I should specifically be trying to get?”
“You're going out with them to Tasnanca?” she says, pausing for a moment to think. “I have a relative out there. Could you come by in the next couple days to pick up a letter I'm going to write to him?”
“I can come by tomorrow, otherwise I'm not going to be here.”
“I'll get it done tonight, then. Thank you, you're doing me a huge favor. As far as things to look out for, I honestly don't know, but I'm sure whatever you bring back will prove valuable.”
Leaving the shop and doing a jig outside because of the face value of the bank note. Enough money in one and a half days to consider going legit, full time. Well, maybe not. Part of this belongs to Wolfe, and magic items are never cheap. For the first time living honest seems like it actually may be comfortable. Heading to the bank to cash the note before going to the pawnshop to find upgrades for the trip.
“Ms. Macarthy,” says the bank teller, “the fee for cashing the note is twenty three silver, which leaves two thousand, two hundred and twenty seven silver. However, there is the matter of your current debt that needs to be addressed.”
Oh hell.
“First there are the fines you have accumulated. Five counts of assault within city limits, one with a deadly weapon, and three against your compatriots. However, all misdemeanors. I'm genuinely surprised. You must be turning over a new leaf.” The teller saying the last with a smirk. Fairly surprised myself, thought it'd be worse than that.
“One hundred fifty silver for the assault in the Rat Cellar, one hundred silver for the assault in The Red Lion, one hundred silver for the assault on the streets of the merchant district, fifty silver for the assault in the hair salon and one hundred silver for the assault in front of the castle.” Rattling them off.
“And then there is the matter of your unpaid citizenship fees,” the teller continues. “From this transaction I have been authorized to take five hundred silver, a full year, and apply it to your balance, leaving an unpaid total of three thousand five hundred silver. In thirty days I have been authorized to deduct another five hundred silver from your account, and every thirty days thereafter, until that debt has been paid in full. This leaves one thousand two hundred and twenty-seven silver from the value of the note. Would you like it deposited into your account or paid out now?”
“Paid out. Give me gold.”
“Certainly. The current balance in your account is five hundred forty eight silver, only forty eight of which is available for withdrawal. Thank you for banking with us.”
Going legit? More downsides than anything. On the upside, using the shield only counts as simple assault. Barely a slap on the wrist. No reason not to accumulate a bankroll and start using it more liberally. Now to place orders. Significantly less gold than anticipated, about fifteen on me, three and a half of which doesn't belong to me. Maybe give Kate an IOU? No, that's not acceptable. There's still plenty of time in the day to head back down and get more. Need to, anyway, for experience. Hit the pawnshop first, get a feel, and then place orders for desert gear, shoes and new clothing.
The pawnshop, a nondescript two story building, doesn't look like much. Peeling, old paint on the facade, and some missing shingles on the roof. But all of that is part of the building's charm. The entry, a clean, square little room. One guard inside the room itself, giving me a cursory inspection followed by a nod, but several others are simultaneously studying me from behind arrow slits in the walls. Easily one of the most heavily guarded buildings in the city, only beaten out by the bank, the castle, maybe one or two of the houses. And Sam's. The guild used to be up there, too. Lots of nasty traps.
Waiting in the entry for the interior door to unlock. Hearing the click and being allowed further inside. A guard inside there remaining alert, but not hostile. Never had a problem here - had never been shortsighted or overconfident enough to consider robbing the place. The best business relationships are forged through mutual understanding and honest, earned trust. Had bought and sold plenty of items over the years.
“Ms. Macarthy,” says the woman at the counter, “buying or selling?”
“Buying.”
“Stairs to your left,” comes the polite response.
Going to the stairs and heading downward. Does the building even have a second floor? Probably. Maybe they keep records or paperwork up there. Or maybe the visual from the outside is entirely a facade. Never seen it. The one thing the building does have is a basement, taking up the entire block, with thick, magically reinforced walls. Warded, certainly, and undoubtedly guarded by more mundane means.
Getting to the bottom of the stairs and finding tables and tables covered with magical items. A handful of other customers walking around, an associate here or there coming up to discuss certain features of a specific piece, and prices. Weapons, weapons. Edged. Hand axe or a knife. Got to go with the knife, it's a classic. This guy right here has certainly done a good job, but it's time for a replacement.
Considering the options, fingering the best of the bunch and an associate making his appearance.
“Good eye,” he says, “the material on that beauty is top notch. An absolute steal at twenty two thousand.”
“Very outside my price range. Fallen on hard times. What do you have for fifteen?”
“Fifteen thousand? Plenty of options. Why, this one right here-”
“Fifteen hundred.”
“I see.” His face visibly souring at the vituperative. “There are a few modestly priced items over here that may fit your budget.” Directing me to the next table over. “This one, here, is fourteen hundred. A fine material, from Ossen. Quite light. This one, here, nine hundred, the material has been common yet noble enough to serve as the backbone of the Empire's expansion. Noticeably heavier than the first, but also a bit sturdier.”
“How about,” seeing one similar to one of my old ones, plain steel with a red glow, “how about this one.”
“Eleven hundred.”
“I'm either getting the one for nine or that one. Let me see how they feel.”
Tracing. Drawing a Rune of Accuracy on the one for nine. Activating and giving a few practice slices and stabs. Very nice, the added weight actually a benefit due to being offset. Doing the same for the one with the red glow. More resistance activating the rune, but then taking. It worked! Dagger like this, permanently enchanted with the rune, ten or twenty times the value. It may as well be that in my hands.
“I'll take this one.”
***
Skipping the cobbler and clothing store entirely in my rush to test and heading back underground. That very expensive dagger, enchanted, would be wickedly sharp, able to slice through chain, or tough hides, or carapaces, like butter. An absolute must purchase at some point in the future. The only downside being that an inevitable death would mean it would be lost. A unavoidable reality of field work, and the primary reason very expensive things were usually never brought into the field.
This dagger, however, normal steel, so no more sharp or sturdy than an ordinary one, though when enchanted with the rune it becomes quite sharp and reinforced. But what this specific dagger brings to the table isn't sharpness or sturdiness of material, it's intermittent bursts of flame. Not quite intermittent, they can be felt building up while fighting, and it's possible to reasonably infer when the next strike will cause the built up energy to release into the target, leaving searing flames in its wake. The very expensive dagger is undoubtedly better, but this one, with price factored in, better in its own way.
And it is such a joy to use! Knowing with certainty the next hit is going to be devastating. The energy entering from even the slightest nick, incinerating that general area on the target, leaving behind the awful, victorious smell of burnt hair and flesh. The newts aren't so bad, even if it does destroy the hides, but Wolfe had been right about the stalkers, at least in one respect, the smell after the fact is unbearable.
Finishing off another, and a gout of flame erupting from its head. Kneeling down to slice the Disjunction rune. And hesitating. An unmistakable feeling of unease sending the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end.
“Hey,” says a man's voice from behind me. Not that close, but close enough. Slowly turning, keeping my weapon down, and staying non-threatening. Fighting my counterproductive desire to run. Davos.
“I was passing through and saw your last two fights.” Trying to steady my breathing and seek calm. “It's always pleasant to see a new face who seems to know what they're doing. And a girl, at that. I'm surprised. The majority of the men around here aren't worth a goddamn thing, at all. And, as far as this activity, nearly all the women.”
“Is that right?”
“Unfortunately.” He shrugs. “So, some advice. The next level under here you'll probably be ready for soon, if you're not already, but below that is the ruins. You're going to want to head outside once you feel the next level down isn't doing it anymore. I recommend doing something else for at least several months, or maybe half a year.”
“Why?” Asking the appropriate question despite already knowing the answer.
“There are some exceptionally ugly things in the ruins.”
There are.
“I appreciate the heads up.”
“Not a problem. Happy hunting.” The man disappearing from sight, but his voice continuing to come from the place he'd been standing. “Oh, and you should be careful on the next floor, too. Sometimes things wander up. That deformed creature you just killed is only an outcast runt of the litter.”
Trying to keep my teeth from chattering. Still a very small fish in a very big pond. Hearing the sound of his voice made me think everything had come to a head, but, fortunately, it seems he doesn't know. And his hunting advice is spot on.