Kalydren – Year 1344, Month 1, Day 6. Spring

Olea Munroe

Having finished up my first job at the Bakers’ bakery I find myself headed back up Imperial Way toward the Jobs Hall.

Carol had insisted I stay for a little while, taking advantage of the water pump and water cabin behind the store. After cleaning up and examining my clothing while I soaked I asked Carol where I could find some new clothes, she was aghast. I’m still not sure why she was so shocked to learn that I was wearing my only pair of clothes. No, I did not have more at home, at least not home on this planet. She was even more concerned when she learned that I did not even have a home in the city. By the time I left the store, rat tails tied together over my shoulder, Thomas had supplied me with a new cloak to cover the obvious gaps in my ‘armor’ and Mrs. Baker had given me some of her son’s clothing since he was grown and out of the house already. I was also forced to take a small duffel of bread loaves, a meal for the road she said. I somehow did not think I would travel quite as far as the bread would.

Upon reaching the Hall I walked my way slowly around the marvelous fountain, enjoying the feel of the cool mist upon my exposed arms. I was just about to walk through the double doors when another shadow covered my own. Looking up I see what I believe is the same crow as before, and falling to land upon my head, a bloodied rat’s tail. Now some people would have shouted to the heavens about being attacked by falling limbs, some members of the crowd shouted for me. I was happy though. One more tail meant five more copper pieces! Hoorah!

I pushed the doors open and stepped inside to complete my job. I strolled in, this time with a little less wonder in my eyes. Don’t get me wrong, I am still amazed at all the nifty things on the walls, the mounted monster heads, the rare plants, and weapons under glass panels. All the armor and strange weaponry used by my fellow adventurers, and even the smile on Sicily’s face when I walked by. Though I briefly wondered why her eyes had gone so wide upon seeing my luggage. Rat tails, I needed them as proof, maybe I would ask later. I found the table with the rugged adventurer Sicily informed me of that very morning.

“Oy” I say, projecting my voice toward the man polishing his sword behind the table. An actual sword, really. The table was littered with an assortment of small tools, bloody hammers, rusted scraps in the form of arrowheads and spear tips. Most bent or broken. As the man turned to face me, his eyes went a little wide around the edges.

“What in the twelve hells have you got for me there?” He blurts out, beard shaking to-and-fro with every other syllable. “Is that a Brood Mother tail?”

Flopping down my load of tail, the rat tails. I respond proudly, “It sure is, ten rats and one Brood Mother, is the momma worth more?” I smile as winningly as I can manage, it might have worked.

The man burst out laughing, “Worth more she asks, aye it be worth more.” He pulls out a large book, bound in brown and red leather, though the red could be dried blood. Turning into the book a fair bit, he stops at a page displaying rats of varying sizes and shapes, He continues, “The brood mother is a pest, a plague rather. What was your job specifically.?”

“I took a job to clear a basement of rats from Sicily this morning, at the Bakers’.”

“Just rats?”

I nod, “Just rats, the brood mother was there with the rest, she was tougher.” I hold my fingers apart a few inches as I add this last bit.

That earned me a laugh, “I am betting she was a wee bit more than that! Where’s your team, did they elect to send their lowest level woman to me out of fear? Or maybe they were hoping I’d be generous when I saw a pretty, little stripling of a girl at my table?”

“No team,” I say. “I went alone to kill some rats. Me. By Myself, nobody else but me.”

He shouts then, “SICILY!”

People stop walking for a beat, pausing or stumbling as the shout rang out across the hall. Then they all start up again. Does this happen a lot?

“Yes sir, master Doogan?” pants a flustered Sicily, the Doogan sounded like Dew-Gone.

“This girl here, did she get a rat clearing job from you this morning?”

She looks at me then, “Girl, sir?”

His face tightens a bit, “Yes, this girl here. The short haired lass standing directly beside you.”

“Oh, oh my. Umm, yes sir.” She says turning to me as she dips a low bow, “I apologize for my earlier confusion and possible insult.”

“Insult?” I ask, very quick I am. “What insult?”

She goes to explain, “I thought you were a boy, Miss Olea. Girls, women rather, we grow our hair long, the only women who have their hair so short are usually slaves.” She blushes then, “Perhaps you hail form the countryside or some other country?”

Well, that explains a bit, I think my hair is barely ear length. I guess it may be the fault of some overly involved god, plopping me down as their faux-prince. “I’m not local.” Is the answer I give to this question.

Doogan coughs then, “So this is the person you assigned to a rat clearing job? Did she have a team?”

Sicily starts, giving a little jump where she stood, “Yes sir, she came in alone, said it was her first job. Used the crystal to view her specialty skills myself.”

Doogan nods, “So she a mage then? Dusk Elves usually are.”

“Dusk elf sir? Mage? No, no sir. She tested for Knifework and Cure Wounds, attributes for Charisma, Dexterity, and Intelligence.” Sicily rattles this out nearly by rote, is there a memory skill and is it specialty or general?

“Cure wounds, and knifework!” He looks at me, then to Sicily, “You mean we sent a level two street surgeon out to clear rats, alone? And she killed a brood mother on the job, also alone?” He looks at me for confirmation to this last part.

“Actually sir, I only reached level two after the brood mother died, even got a bonus for killing something one rank higher. And I’m a Merciful Blade, sir.” I add the last to justify myself, street surgeon sounds much less cool than Merciful Blade, even if Help-chan said it was a common class of desperation.

He raises his eyebrows at my words, “Okay then. A level one, you killed the brood mother in combat, with what? A spear? Did you have help?”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“No sir, and the brood mother, she…” I stammer lamely, “fell on me sir. I fell down the steps running for my life, it had jumped at me before I fell so it overshot and landed on me, my knife went through its chest when it fell.”

A few moments passed as both Sicily and Master Doogan stared at me. Master Doogan responded first, by laughing! I smiled a little bit as he spoke, “You mean, you went all alone and killed ten rats, fought the brood mother, ran for your life from her. Then she up and kills herself on your fallen body.”

“No sir,” I start, earning me a quizzical look, “I killed nine of the rats, and the brood mother. A crow killed the tenth rat when it tried to attack me after I left the basement. A crow flew by and caught it midair. It was awesome, actually the crow dropped that last tail on my head just as I walked up to the doors outside.”

Raising his eyebrows even further the man dismisses Sicily with a, “You may go.” While staring at me. Very rude he is becoming. Just because he looks like he runs the place doesn’t mean staring is cool. Though I guess he didn’t all me boy, he has a few respect points, I won’t crush him when I become queen.

“It’s rude to stare, Doogan. And why do they call you Master Doogan, do you own the building?” I ask quickly to cover my accusations.

He lets the first go, tugging on his beard with one hand while his other moves the tails about the table, “First off, the rats will earn you fifty copper coins, or five small silvers. The brood mother is a known pest of the realm, a real pest mind you. Left unchecked they can form larger nest and be absolutely annoying to cut out once they start breeding in earnest.”

Looking in his big book of baddies again he says, “I’ll pay you two large silvers for the brood mother tail, I will also be sending a runner down so someone can collect it’s body.”

Happy that I would be getting paid, I smiled, “Pleasure doing business with you Doogan.”

“Not so fast!” He retorts, “I am Master Doogan here, Master for my role as leader, and master for my rank. You are a novice and should know this, but I will make am allowance for you, this once. You are odd.” This last comes with a wary look, as if he expects me to sprout wings and flutter out a window. I totally would if I could.

“Okay, Master Doogan.” I apologize half-heartedly. “Am I dismissed?”

“Not yet,” he continues, “Where are you from, I would love to hear tell of your home.”

I begin to tell Doogan, he’s Doogan in my own head, no Master here but me! I tell him I live in a warehouse for now, no I am not from Jaga originally and that I have a lot to learn. He makes consoling sounds in the right places and grumbles about stupid people with more luck than sense, he could not have meant me.

In the end he offers me a writ for the teller at the next counter that I can exchange for my pay. He also offers me a room upstairs so he can keep an eye on me, not my own room of course. There are dorms above for travelling adventurers, not co-ed. Apparently, they have long since learned that lonely adventurers make too much noise when bunking together with adventurers of the opposite sex. I thank Doogan for his time and the money before heading out the door. I will be back later. Free room, hard to beat.

Taking a stroll down Market Street to the east, I started looking for clothing stores. I soon learned that custom fit is extraordinarily expensive, my tattered clothes would have cost a hefty sum of several large silver.

Oh, and money is done by orders of ten. Good to know. Ten coins of copper equal a small silver, ten small silver is a large silver and so on with small gold and large gold. The coins themselves were flat disks of nickel, each sporting a core of the aforementioned material, small coins had a rectangular core while the large coin cores had a star shape to them. You could easily tell by feel which were which, handy.

A pair of copper bought me a kabob, which I ate slowly with my full host of manners on display. No, I did not turn it sideways and chomp down like a savage as I ripped the meat from the little piece of offensive wood. That would be very unladylike. I did though order two more from the man, he wasn't busy and as such had plenty of time to gaze at me in admiration of growing appetite. I was not making a spectacle of myself, I swear!

I soon found a small cart selling random one-size-fits-most clothing. I bought a backpack, from the cart next to this one, both ladies were thrilled to have my business. They were practically cooing at me as I searched for clothes to buy. I picked out three shirts, one brown and two tan, white costs more, and the blue shirts were vastly more expensive. I grabbed two pairs of sturdy pants, and some well-worn leather shoes, more like moccasins. I also got me a nice hat, a big brown leather tricorn affair with a feather on the top.

It looked absolutely ridiculous, and the women suffered a fit of laughter as I worked my way through various poses. Passing children were giggling behind their hands as their mothers dragged them along. I really like this place. I paid the women, costing me seven small silver and three copper leaving me with one large and seven small silvers, plus a few copper.

I stowed my spare clothes in the backpack after I put on the brown shirt and a pair of pants. The women were scandalized at what I am wearing, or rather what I was not wearing under the cloak. I explained that I was not quite a vagrant, and I would be fine. I was an adventurer and some nasties had gotten the better of me for a little while. I also informed them that I was happy to have the chance to meet them and they both beamed. The lady who sold me the backpack went so far as to tell me to stop by later, she would love to introduce me to her son. He was a millwright’s apprentice, a fine young man. The clothier, her sister, I discovered, was quite clear in the support she gave to her nephew, a fine match indeed. I beggared off at this turn in the conversation, places to see people to do, all that jazz. I confused them with the last bit, the order of the phrase not sounding right.

Onward! I must be visiting my old friend Keen, and maybe look at my new available skills soon. I head west on Market Street, toward the center of town. Passing the square, love that cool misting fountain. So very refreshing! Crossing slowly through the square I step onto Dock Street, honestly it is called Market Street West up until you get to the harbor master’s offices. At that point the road becomes Dock Street as it leads to the docks on the north-west side of the city. I turn left at the harbor masters, after a short stroll I take another left into a large warehouse, the door seems to be a little cleaner.

I enter into the large open area, surprised to see a large-framed carriage parked in the center of the space, most of the empty crates are gone. It seems the merchant will be using this warehouse again very soon. I see Keen in his little alcove talking to a small boy, looking around I notice all the other children have their hair cut short, maybe there was something to the no girls thing. That I wasn’t the only short-haired girl in the city as Sicily suggested. Intel to gather later, I guess. I walk over to Keen as the smaller boy heads back to the others, seems they are just now wandering in from the streets.

“Oy, Keen!” I shout, waving my hand in the air as I approach.

Keen looks at me then, a good long look. I think he blushed! “You’re back.” He replies as he lowers his eyes to hide his face under that unruly hair. It’s cute that he can get embarrassed, at least when his gang is not all here.

I untie the bag at my waist and hand it to him, “For you,” I elaborate, “and the little ones, my tax payment.” I gave a little wink at this, which earned me a laugh. A nice laugh even, once he got beyond the nervous fear that was there a moment ago. You’d think he was afraid I would hit him. The nerve of such thoughts.

Keen opens the flap on the bag, seeing the bread inside. He looks up at me, down at the bag, then finally back at me, “Bread?”

I nod, “Bread. Yes. Bread good, bread for eating. Yes.” I sound out the sentence slowly, my own imitation of the scholar explaining to Tarzan the meaning of life.

He shakes his head, grinning “No need to be an a-, I mean thanks. Thank you for paying your dues.”

“No need to act tough, Keen. I won’t be staying.” I went on to explain my change in circumstance and that I’d be staying above the jobs hall. I also let him know I would not mind stopping occasionally to visit if I happened to be by. I would not be hitting him again tonight. I also asked if anyone needed to see a healer, I could probably help with some minor injuries if anyone had acquired one. I was about to leave when I had a thought, “Keen, do you know where Lenn got off to?”

“Lenny? Yah, Lenny went off earlier, doesn’t stay around too long only does basic lookout stuff. Probably has a different place to bed down nearby as I never seem to see him around for too long.” Keen explained.

“Thanks then,” I reply as I turn to go, “I’ll be seeing you.”

After exiting the warehouse, I turn right, heading north up the road toward Market West. It’s getting close to full night, and I have a date. At least I think I still have a date. One way to find out, off to see Sicily!