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Lone: The Wanderer
B1: Chapter 43: Agreement and Intoxication

B1: Chapter 43: Agreement and Intoxication

"Bah! 'Master’ ma left nutsack! That Seloph wench can hardly control ah fookin' torch, let alone ah whole blasted forge! Tae ‘ave the gall tae call ‘erself a master… What an insult tae try experts at the craft,” Grimsley hollered.

Currently, Lone and Soph were sat in the man's house in a very dirty and messy living room-slash-forge.

A peculiar combination of rooms, that was for certain, but who were they to complain considering the building's size? Lone did have to wonder why he was operating out of a slum though if he was so skilled.

“I take it you aren’t friends?” Lone asked.

The dwarf scoffed. “That whore’s only friend is the coin the nobles an’ daft local adventurers funnel down ‘er arsecheeks.”

“Colourful… Well, the guy manning her shopfront looked down on me solely for being a demi. Didn’t even give me the time of day,” Lone explained.

“Aye, ‘ats how it works ‘ere in this shitehole. Good thing, ah guess, or ye might ‘ave actually become ‘er apprentice. Ye’ll learn more fae me in ah day than she could teach ya in ah month,” Grimsley boasted.

The dwarf poured three pints of ale and handed one to Lone, one to Soph, and then kept the last one for himself. “Homebrew fae Krieg Aftor. It’s the good shite. Fookin’ costs an’ arm an’ ah leg tae import, so ye’s better enjoy it.”

“What’s the percentage on it?” Lone asked as he carefully took a sip.

Immediately he felt some vertigo and his vision was clouded by system messages.

The host has developed the passive skill [Intoxication Resistance].

Passive Skill: Intoxication Resistance

A skill awarded to those with an iron gut and a low enough intelligence to make getting drunk a regular sport.

Alcohol is weakened by 5% when consumed by the host.

Cost: N/A Mastery: Beginner Level 1

“Fuckin’ Christ alive!” Lone yelled. “It feels like my throat’s on fire!”

“Haha! At least ye can still speak! Look at yer lady friend!” Grimsley cackled as he chugged his own mug of ale.

Soph had drunk about as much as Lone, but her cheeks were already rosy and a silly grin was spread on her face.

Her eyes were unfocused as they watched Lone’s tails slowly sway back and forth. He sighed. “That’s gonna be a pain to deal with…”

“Och, ye’ll be fine. Look at her. She’s barely any taller than me. Just carry ‘er ‘ome. Ye’r doin’ better than ah thought ye’d be doin’, in truth,” Grimsley said.

Lone took another sip of the beverage and only winced a little bit this time.

Congratulations! The host’s passive skill [Intoxication Resistance] has levelled up! It is now Beginner Level 2.

He grinned a bit wryly at both the observation and the notification. “Where I’m from hard liquor is kinda common, not that I’m an avid drinker. I’ve had my experiences though. I’ve also got a… let’s say tough constitution.”

Lone could already feel his Basic Regeneration trying its best to clear all fogginess from his mind and restore his motor control.

Grimsley groaned in pleasure as he sat down and cracked his back before he slouched and sipped on his ale a bit more. "Well, laddie. Ye wan’ tae be ma apprentice, aye?"

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Lone nodded. "Yes. I'd love to. I really want to learn more about weapons, armour, metal, leatherworking, just everything to do with smithing, really."

He took a big gulp of his drink as he looked around a bit. 'I wonder where the other person is that Soph detected? Through that door? Maybe they're sleeping...'

"Aye, well, ye’ve come tae the right bloke. Ah dinnae mind, but what's in it fae me? Ah've time tae spare, aye, but nae enough tae just throw at some whelp with nary ah care in the world. Primals be damned if ah do this fae free. Ah'm sure ye understand," Grimsley said as he used his sleeve to clean up the mead that had missed his mouth and ended up on his beard.

Lone smiled. "Of course. Like I said, I can pay you. How does a gold coin sound?"

"It sounds like ye only wannae get apprenticed tae me fae ah month or two. Practice materials arnae cheap, laddie. Ah also need tae go buy ah contracting scroll, an' those buggers sell for ten-silvers, an’ that's even after ah've gone an' haggled it down at the black market," Grimsley claimed as he finished his drink once again.

'Black market? That's interesting... Why’d he tell me that off the bat? Solidarity in us both being demis?' Lone frowned lightly as he pondered. "Well, I can give you more money if you need it. I'm not the royal mint, but I'm also not poor. A month or two should be enough for me to learn the basics, right?"

‘I’ve yet to use my magic to make coins but I’m sure it can’t be that hard. They’re small, after all. I’ve got enough on me though to pay for a few months’ apprenticeship,’ he thought.

"Hahaha! 'Ah'm naw the royal mint'! Ah'll fookin' remember ‘at one, laddie." Grimsley bounced back up to his feet and returned to his mead keg.

He smacked it a few times in anger when the tap only filled up half of his mug before running dry. "Aw, fook off! Ah'll need tae order another bleedin' barrel today anaw."

He slumped back down into his chair and said, "Aye. If ye've talent, ye should be smithin' iron in ah month or two nae bother. Maybe even steel."

'I bet with that much time, I can get advanced or maybe even expert rank in the skills related to this shit. That'll be a good enough base for me to experiment on my own with,' Lone decided internally. "Perfect. A gold coin it is."

Lone took out the promised coin from his pocket and placed it on a nearby table. "But how’s about we don’t do a contract? I trust you, you trust me, no weird magic shit. Sounds good?"

Considering the prevalence of slavery here, and considering Lone decided not being a lawyer, the last he wanted to do was enter some sort of magically binding contract with exploitable loopholes in it.

Grimsley held his neck as he thought. "Hmm… It’s nae exactly legal but… aye, ah’m honestly nae much o’ ah fan o’ contracts maself. Trust it is. Ye’ve paid me already anyway an’ the contract would be fer yer peace o’ mind, naw mine. Well, no time like the present to start, aye? May as well gae ye an introductory lesson now if ye'd like."

Lone shook his head. "Thanks, ‘ppreciate it, but I actually have other plans for today. I honestly didn't expect to get myself apprenticed right away. I thought it'd take a few days of showing my worth and negotiating. Should I come back tomorrow or the day after?"

Grimsley gave him an odd look. "Ye'r ah good sort, huh? Cannae say ah hate ‘at. Yer lady friend’s as quiet as ah moose though. Vastly different fae yerself. Mind ye, she’s pissed oot o’ ‘er socks.”

Soph smiled sweetly as she wobbled about a bit on her chair. Clearly, she wasn’t all quite there.

“She’s small so of course she’s a lightweight,” Lone grumbled with a slight shake of the head.

“Haha, anyway, aye, tomorrow morn'll do. Dinnae ever come by in the afternoon or evenin' though. Ah'm busy completin’ commissions at those hours. Ah'll cancel this whole shite if ye ever break ‘at rule, ye hear me, laddie?" the dwarf boomed, seriousness oozing out of him.

"Yeah, I understand. We'll be back tomorrow morning then," Lone said as he finished his drink and got up.

Grimsley stayed seated as he glanced at Soph. "She'll come back anaw? Ah'm only teachin' ye, naw ‘er anaw."

Lone smiled. "That's fine. She'll just watch. I don't feel safe keeping her out of my sights. Milindo is a harsh place for demis, true, but that doesn't mean that it's perfectly safe for beautiful young human women as well."

Grimsley shrugged. "True 'nuff. Ah cannae say ‘at ah find her tae be in ma tastes, but ah'm ah Stone Dwarf, so that's nae surprisin’ ah suppose." He cracked his neck as he said, "Well then, see ye the morrow, laddie."

‘Stone Dwarf? That would explain why some of his skin has hard grey patches. I thought they were injuries… Guess it was lumps of stone. That’s pretty fuckin’ metal,’ Lone thought before replying, "Yeah, see you then."

He pulled Soph by the hand, and once they were back on the streets, he asked her a question. "Out of curiosity, where exactly was the second person in Grimsley's workshop?"

"Huh? I love you… I really do, y’know? Hehe… Oh. Uh, the other person? Uh… In the... hehe. In the basement sleeping on a bed, I think... Is there supposed to be eleven… twelve… thirteen tails? I thought you only had nine…" Lone was shocked by what he got as an answer.

Glancing down at his little companion, he saw that Soph's eyes were half open and her face was obscenely red as she wobbled along next to him. "You need to get Intoxication Resistance or to never drink that dwarven stuff ever again. I don’t know for sure if you’re a lightweight or not since that shit was fuckin’ strong but this is… something.”

"I'm very light! And small! And cute... Hehehe... Lone told me I'm cute... and pretty! Gorgeous too. He loves me… He tells me that a lot, you know? Hic... It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside... Like now, but a different kind of warm and fuzzy..." Soph almost fell over as she rambled on between hiccups, but he leaned down and wrapped an arm around her waist.

He picked her up into a princess carry and laughed a little bit. "What will I do with you now? I doubt we can go to a bookstore or the library like this without making a scene, can we? And you're not a fan of The Summoning Room, now are you? Hmm..."

He glanced at her face and saw that she had fallen asleep as he was holding her. "Huh... Well, I guess we should go back home for now. I can always visit the bookstores and the library tomorrow after Grimsley's lesson."