Joe lay on a comfortable bed provided to him by the Myrrhceeian priests, staring at the ceiling. He had thrown off the blanket and lay on top of the sheets, though it had nothing to do with being hot. As a matter of fact, there was a wide window facing toward the sea which let a cool breeze ruffle through the room. The moon, still fat and round in the sky, lit the space he had been given. The outer walls were made from a smooth tan stone. The interior walls, floor, and ceiling were constructed from planks of beautiful amber-colored wood. Woven walling hangings and brightly painted borders made everything about the area both soothing and welcoming.
And yet Joe was wide awake and restless.
The others had left him shortly after Hah’roo had rejoined the group. The Count had said he would file his copy of the Writ of Innocence with Glauri. The Monster Hunter suggested he meet with Joe for lunch to let Joe know if the matter was settled, or if any further proceedings were warranted.
Hah’roo stated she had contracts to close and people to meet. She had put off these obligations in order to see their quest to completion. The wind-dancer told Joe to stop by the Adventurers Guild and ask for her there. She would assist him in getting his Guild membership and help him upgrade his gear if he wanted to. Joe was interested in both.
Jink just tossed Joe his [Feral Armor Kit] back and stated that if Joe was going shopping he should buy a safer storage item than his medical satchel. Someone with more nefarious motives could have nicked that large purse of gold that was nestled between the bandages. With a tip of his hat, the elf then vanished. Joe couldn’t help but check and found his money where it belonged but he was in full agreement. Purchasing a dimensional bag was one of the first items on Joe’s to-do list for the morning.
But the morning would just not arrive. Joe finally gave up. He dressed and made the bed, then quietly slipped out of the room. It was still a few hours before dawn but Joe needed to get outside.
He walked the long cool corridors, occasionally passing and nodding to the few clerics who were still awake at this hour. The temple of Myrrhcee was open to anyone at any hour. It was one part church with a gigantic hall for worship. It was also a hospital with a whole wing for healing and recovery rooms. Additionally, it offered housing to those in need. Joe saw several of the refugees from the Tide Dancer when he passed through one of the dormitory floors.
He felt a bit guilty that he had been given such a nice room only to leave it behind while some of the others were only allotted bunks and chests in long halls designated for the displaced and the homeless. Joe assumed his deluxe accommodations were to entice him to consider joining the church. To be honest with himself, Joe had no intention of enlisting with the temple, but if there was one church that he would consider so far, it would have been Myrrhcee. ‘Give care to those in need’ was its primary tenant. That was something Joe wished was the first priority for all churches he had known.
Stepping outside, feeling the wind on his skin, and tasting the sea on the air was utter bliss. It felt like a massive chain was sliding off his shoulders, freeing him to join the night. Joe's brisk step into Telemont Square turned into a jog after a dozen strides. Within a minute he was running. He found joy in dashing through the empty streets. Joe had no real destination in mind, just the need to physically let loose. He relished in the freedom he felt. He was no longer bound, not by illness or obligation, not by edict or even his own apprehensions. Finally, the world of Illuminaria was open to him.
Joe dashed down to the wharves, past rocking ships and a few singing sailors. He bounded across the multi-leveled piers, deliberately vaulting obstacles and even attempting some novice parkour maneuvers over the gaps in the docks and along the steps and stairs. Even though he had to pass up many of Fell Bane Hunter’s base skills, the ones he had converted from the curse were phenomenal.
As the full moon had not yet set, Joe would have had plenty of light to make this jog, but with [Night Eyes] he could make out details the shadows would have surely hidden from him. The streets were as clear to him as if it were the middle of the day. He could even see into the dark water to spot fish darting around the hulls.
Tracker was a mixed blessing as the city and harbor were extremely pungent, yet it was a whole new sense that was now speaking to him. There were nuances in the air that his mind was already learning how to discern. He could tell when a bakery a few blocks away lit its ovens to start the morning bread. The incense from the temples up the hill rolled down the slope in a tangle of dry and sweet scents. He was even a bit embarrassed to realize from the street below he could tell the difference between the affectionate musk of lovers in their bedrooms and the carnal odor rolling out of the brothels.
Over all of these, Joe relished the athleticism [Hunter’s Pursuit] provided him. His run with Kaid had been a shadow of how his body could now perform. He was easily hopping over ten or twelve foot jumps without even trying. When he reached the seawall, Joe effortlessly scramble up it, aided by his claws. At the top of the wall, he jogged along its rim with a surety of balance that he never would have known before.
Eventually, the wildness inside him settled down and he slowed to a walk. As the world was tinted in shades of blue from the pre-dawn sky, Joe sauntered through avenues of Peregrine’s Bay, not yet ready to head indoors. His climb had brought him level with temples again but he was still a few streets away from the main square. He ambled through diminutive holy sites, many of them nothing more than a single altar or standing shrine.
As he wandered, Joe noted the gods they were dedicated to. He passed a tall pole covered in bright ribbons and scraps of cloth for the child god Wymsee. A table made of a rune-carved slab of granite honored a dwarven god of cold name Brumm. A god of divination name Seher was represented by a statue of a bird with a dozen heads, all of which were looking in different directions.
As Joe passed a small almost unnoticed cairn of stones, a beautifully glazed clay teapot and mug appeared out of nowhere on top of the mound. A rich cinnamony steam trickled out of the spout. Joe stepped closer and saw that each of the stones had a few words written on them. Many were professions such as sailor or clerk. Others read father or mother. Some listed crimes or deeds. Some of the rocks had just one word but many of them had several descriptors scratched into them. The largest carved stone proclaimed this was the shrine of Nhvr, the god of pathways untaken.
Joe stopped and poured a cup of the blessing and thought about the paths he was finally safe from. He found a blank rock and used one of his claws to carve out the words ‘outlaw’ and ‘prisoner’. Thanks to earning his [Writ of Innocence], he was pretty sure he had escaped those grim paths.
He added ‘patient’ to the list. That life was also behind him. His life and death on Earth would likely always be a bit of who he was but he could now seek something more here in Illuminaria.
He wanted to add ‘pushover’ as well, given the growth he had undergone in the last few hours but it was still too soon to make that claim just yet. Soon, he promised himself.
He took a sip of the russet-colored liquid and felt it warm his insides, gracing him for his acknowledgment of a new day.
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A bit over an hour later, Joe made his way into one of the neighboring markets as it opened. He still had not yet slept and knew sooner or later that tiredness was going to catch up with him, but for now, excitement and [Efferous Endurance] were keeping him going and alert. He bought what looked like a scone that was filled with smoked bits of meat and cheese and a small jug of cider from some fruit that tastes a bit like a cross between grapes and mangos.
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He was about to buy another of the pastries when he saw a merchant setting up a stall filled with bags and pouches. Delightedly, Joe crossed to the booth looking to finally be able to check off his number one purchase. The trader, Mecidydda, was either a human with some elven heritage or visa versa. He had short green hair and ears with just a hint of pointedness to them. He talked to Joe about some of the features he should focus on. Some magical bags could hold huge amounts but they were easily broken. He recommended that if Joe wanted to be an adventurer, then he should look to balance storage against durability.
Together they eventually settled on a hip pouch that could take items up to two feet wide. The bag itself was about four inches wide, two deep, and six inches tall, about the size of a thick paperback novel. It could hold about forty cubic feet of material. The material could weigh as much as four hundred pounds but the pouch would never weigh more than a pound.
It also had a moderate thief-ward on it. Joe was surprised to learn that there were skills out there that could pickpocket dimensional bags as easily as they could mundane ones. Joe had wanted a major warding but it was just too expensive.
One of the tricks Mecidydda taught him was to put his most valuable items in a lockbox and then put that in the bag. The lockboxes he recommended came festooned with bells. Getting a whole box out of a dimensional bag was hard enough but doing so without the bells chiming was exceptionally difficult. Only when the box left the dimensional storage, could the sound of the bells be heard, foiling thieves but not driving the owner insane with their ringing.
The price of the bag was a bit of a shock, costing him two thousand gold pieces. Mecidydda threw in a lockbox for half-price to sweeten the deal. Joe balked a bit at first but he was pretty sure if he cheaped out on this investment he would regret it. The first thing he did, once the transaction was complete, was to drop in his quarterstaff. Joe grinned with glee watching the five-foot-long pole disappear into a bag only half a foot long. The rest of the stuff he had stashed in his satchel followed after the staff. Half of his remaining money went into the lockbox.
The other fifteen hundred he had kept out of the box would be spent on some gloves. Mecidydda had tossed a couple of looks at his monstrous hands but the man did not seem overly surprised by them. Joe realized that with so many animalistic races in Illuminaria, claws were surely not that strange a thing to have. Still, he felt a little self-conscious about them.
He wandered through the booths until he spotted a stall that had gear for catfolk races. There he found several sets of gloves with open-tipped fingers that were designed to let the feline people use their talons when they wanted to. The tigress woman behind the counter helped Joe try on several pairs for comfort while discussing what kind of enchantments he might want. It turned out the most cost-effective enhancement was called [Dire Claws]. It made existing natural weapons do damage as if they belonged to a larger-sized creature. Since one had to already have natural weapons for the modification to work, the enchantment cost less than one that gave straight boosts to weapon damage.
Joe had to dip a bit more into the lockbox to get the money he needed for the pair he liked best. For seventeen hundred he found a pair of Dire Claw Gauntlets that matched the blue of his gambeson and that were incredibly comfortable. As a bonus perk, they also had minor self-repair and self-cleaning charms built into them.
Joe considered getting a good pair of boots too. The ones he was wearing were coming apart from their soaking in the Andoo’ak River and then all the abuse they had suffered since. His now taloned toes were not helping either. Joe eventually decided to wait until after he had a chance to pick Valloc’s and Hah’roo’s brains first. He had spent already half of the award he had received from the epic quest. He did not know what kind of money he should expect and did not want to waste what he had left. Especially if those funds were what he would be living off of for a while.
Joe wandered through booths brimming with amazing items. What struck Joe was how different the styles of the objects were from stall to stall. A market on Earth could easily have wares with varying patterns and color combinations but the items were still all created for the same race. Here the proportions and designs were all over the place. Dwarven hammers too thick and short for human hands were displayed across from voluminous jotun clothing. There were racks of diminutive gnomish curled shoes and flamboyant hats. The apparel for the beast-races was tailored to account for tails, ears, or legs that were jointed completely differently than human limbs.
Joe picked up a new shirt for himself. He had managed to rinse out his starter shirt a couple of times but the garment was well past the point it needed to be retired. The man running the shop offered a magical cleaning service as well. He had a skill that would remove dirt and odors from Joe and his clothes for a reasonable fee. Knowing he was to meet the Count in a little while Joe happily paid the two gold pieces for a heavy-duty enchanted scrubbing instead of the three silver for the quick clean.
Joe’s nose immediately noticed the difference. He had not even realized he had been filtering out his own grimy scent until it was gone. Suddenly the smells of the market redoubled and Joe could not help but sneeze twice. [Tracker] was definitely going to take some getting used to.
Just before Joe was about to cover his nose a familiar scent caught his attention. It smelled like broth and magic. Thanking the shopkeep, he set off after the aroma. Sure enough, he found the smell emanating from a booth displaying hundreds of little bottles filled with liquids of every color. Joe grinned and decided to spend a bit more and get some potions for his belt.
He quickly learned that the electric brothy scent belonged to transformation potions in general. He then saw how much Jink had paid for them. A falcon potion for a quick one-minute shape-change cost around 500 gold pieces each. The ones Jink had bought had lasted much longer than that.
Joe moved away from the transformation section. The next shelf over had a transformation adjacent elixirs. Potions of Spider Climbing and Tonics of the Water Strider sat beside Salves of Troll Skin and Potions of Leapord’s Leaping. The one that caught Joe’s eye was a Potion of Endless Breath. It was marked with a duration of one hour and priced at 150 gold. Given that Joe was likely going to travel again by ship, he happily grabbed the bottle of bubbly blue liquid.
A potion one shelf over caught his eye as it kept changing color. It started gray then it changed to brown then back to gray. It cycled through gray and then another color several times while he watched. He finally read the label on the bottle and it made sense. The draught was called Basilisk Bane and under the title the text simply stated ‘Slows Petrification’. It cost as much as the transformation potions but petrification was something Joe did not have any defense against. He picked it up though he was not sure he was willing to spend a fifth of his remaining money on a 500 gp potion.
He found a section of cheaper potions on the next side of the shop. There was a whole rack of potions for just fifty gold each. In a few minutes Joe had picked out seven he liked. He replaced the BarkBite he had used fighting Kaid. This one was called Oak Hide but it did the same thing. He also grabbed a Potion of the Behemoth, which would make him bigger and proportionally stronger for five minutes. The Potion of Cat's Creep gave only a slight boost to stealth but had a long duration. He grabbed a Potion of Mage Sight to see magic and an Oil of Blessed Fangs to make his claws inflict Sacred damage. After the Count's glue story, he also bought an Absolute Solvent to get him unstuck from glues, webs, oozes, et cetera.
There were so many more but Joe finally made himself take just these choices. He ended up buying the Basilisk Bane as well with a bit of buyer's remorse but he told himself it was better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it.
As he was tucking the bottles into his alchemist's belt he realized the sun was almost to its zenith. He had spent hours and hours walking through the vast markets and scrounging through the potion stall. Noon was fast approaching and Joe did not want to be late for his meeting with Count Valloc. Fortunately, when he asked about the club the monster-hunter had named, he was informed it was only a dozen blocks away.
While he could not lope through the busy streets as he had in the pre-dawn hours, he still could set a brisk pace. The Corsairs of the Ardent Watch Club was the name of his destination but Count Randeau had not mentioned anything more. While Joe had cleaned up and replaced the worst of his clothes, he hoped this club was not as snooty as its name suggested.