Chapter 30: Say Cheese
Typically, I’d barely spent ten seconds in the smithy, when what looked like a disco ball lit up on the ceiling, bathing the room in red. I'd seen it in passing, when I'd bought my knife, but had thought it a mere decoration, like the streamers they often went up in shops around Christmas time, not some kind of targeted burglar alarm, one that didn't react to Pumpkin but caught me immediately.
Still, it wasn't doing anything to keep me there, so I simply turned around and headed back out, writing this one off as a loss. Pumpkin followed eagerly behind me, keen to get away from the noise, as I followed my memory to trace a familiar path further out of town. I'd been planning to head back to the inn, after hitting all three targets, but that felt unwise in light of the alarm: the last thing I needed was for some nosy guard to follow me back.
Instead, I equipped my Soldier class at Level 2, having gone classless up to this point to thwart potential observers, and headed for Edge Wood. The authorities discouraged people from visiting the wood at night, due to the tendency for stronger monsters to spawn, but it wasn't illegal to do so, and people still did, for training.
Nobody accosted me on the way to the wood, nor was there a guardsman at the gate at this time of the night, so the coast was clear, and all it would take was a single running jump to vault the fence and head inside. I didn’t, though, because it wouldn’t do me any good: Soldier of Fortune didn’t level that way, so I’d only be wasting my time and facing danger for no good reason. No, I didn’t need the actual experience, just the alibi. Lying down in the dirt, still decidedly on the safe side of the fene, I rolled around a bit, getting my clothes nice and dishevelled in keeping with the after-effects of vigorous exercise.
[Knife withdrawn.]
Then, pulling out my knife in its sheath, I set it beside me, and coaxed Pumpkin to climb onto my chest, adding his warmth to my own, to offset some of the chill of a cool autumn night. Now the very image of an over enthusiastic rookie, driven to exhaustion during training, I settled down to catch what sleep I could, before dawn broke. I was resting right next to Guardsman Spike’s post, so I was fairly certain either he or his colleagues would find me in the morning, out cold after a hard day of grinding mobs. It wasn’t the best excuse I’d ever come up with, but it was enough, and that’s what counted. It wasn’t even hard to fall asleep, as I’d gotten less than my daily preference to go on this excursion, so if anything, I was just making up the hours.
[10 EXP gained for refuge in audacity.]
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
On that cheerful note from the System, I drifted off to sleep.
—
I woke up groggily, to someone shaking me softly by the shoulder. My response was swift and certain, a punch flying towards the offender’s head before I was even fully aware of my position. Guardsman Spike caught it with ease, his iron grip locking my arm in place without any visible effort, as I blinked back to wakefulness.
“Huh?” I uttered, starting the day off slowly, in the absence of a morning coffee.
“Back with us now, are you?” Spike sounded amused, letting me go once he saw the awareness return to my eyes.
“Yeah, I guess so,” I replied, sitting up slowly and rubbing the pins and needles out of my arms. “What time is it?”
“Just past dawn,” Spike replied, eyeing my knife briefly as I clipped the sheath to my belt. “Busy night of training?”
He sounded slightly reproachful, though not as nearly as much as I’d been expecting, given the horror stories some of the older orphans had told Will. Granted, those same orphans had come back in need of immediate medical care, whereas I looked ruffled but fine, so he probably just thought I could handle myself.
“Too much, probably,” I laughed, affecting a sheepish grin as I stood up fully for some morning stretches.
It wasn’t the first time I’d slept in suboptimal conditions, and it didn’t take long to get myself back in working order, all the aches and pains fading away with the admirable ease of youth.
“Worth it, though,” I quipped at the end, smiling proudly as though I’d just caught the sun in my palm.
“Aye, you levelled up,” Spike noted. “Quite quick, as well, just a few days after your first visit. Did you get anything nice for your first skill?”
“Wrathful Strike,” I replied immediately. “It lets me put all of my strength into a single blow. Really good power behind it, but it’s damn draining to use, I barely had the energy to move after testing it out. Probably why I’m sleeping here instead of the inn, heh.”
I wasn’t sure if Wrathful Strike was a real skill, since I was just quoting the Soldier half of the option I didn’t take for Level 2, but the mechanics sounded plausible enough from what I knew of the Soldier Class.
“A good skill indeed,” Spike acknowledged, a hand to his chin as his eyes stared into the distance, doubtlessly remembering the good old days. “Try to make sure you have a companion, if you’re going to use that skill. Having someone to drag you home after you’re out cold can be the difference between life and death.”
I nodded along, happy to receive that tidbit from the veteran guardsman: it was nothing I hadn’t guessed already, but I never turned down free advice, you never knew when it might come in handy.
“You might want to get a weapon with longer reach,” Spike continued, his eyes at the knife at my waist again. “Hitting hard means nothing if your blow can’t connect, and your enemy lands his first.”
“I’d love to,” I agreed readily, drawing the serrated blade to give him a better look at it.
He was definitely probing for something with his suggestions: something about my potential involvement in a break-in at the smithy, perhaps?
“Sadly, I could only afford this knife with the gilt I had after my Class day. Maybe later, once I have more to my name.”
If he wanted to check with the smithy, who’d confirm I bought my knife all above board, then that was just fine by me.