Rory stood with the breastplate of Erin’s armor in his left hand, and with his right he swung his panel around so she could read the Appraisal.
[Bastion of the Leviathan]
Rare Tier 4 Magical Armor
Armor: 40
Durability: unknown magical steel / ??
Special Qualities
Unstoppable (superior): Skills and spells that grant or increase movement grant you the Unstoppable quality, doubling the value of your Strength attribute and related Skills when you deal damage to structures or when an obstacle or creature would restrict your movement. If you succeed in breaching a structure or moving through an obstacle, those tasks become effortless.
“That’s… mad,” he breathed out, a soft whistle.
“It’s sooooo pretty,” Layla mooned over the greaves, tilting them back and forth, watching the iridescent colors sparkle in the morning sun.
“What does ‘effortless’ mean?” Erin poked the word, noting the emphasis.
Rory poked the word through the other side of the panel and read the description.
“Wow. It means it won’t slow you down and doesn’t interfere with you doing something else at the same time… that’s… absolutely mad,” he whistled again.
“You said that already,” Layla absently remarked as she remained mesmerized by the armor’s color.
“Wait, it says it doubles her values for those tasks. Doesn’t that mean the scaling will eventually get out of control?” Jack interrupted.
Toben finally spoke up from his position at the breakfast table on his deck.
“Yes. As her power grows, the armor’s magic will become ever mightier. It is a unique and powerful ability. I have not seen its like since leaving the Legion. Generals and heroes bore such equipment,” he nodded.
“Toben, this is too much,” Erin started.
The big man rose from his chair and roughly thumped his cup on the table.
“FAH! I will hear no more of this talk. I will live no less than another fifty years because of this,” he pounded his chest, the blow echoing with his supernatural strength. “Fifty years with the love of my life, and when I am passed, my children will inherit this gift, blessing them with long and happy lives. That is what this mark means to me, to my family. Half a century of joy, of Fate’s boughs twisting and swaying so our lives will be easier, happier, less heartache, less sickness. And you fuss and whine that I give you a few thousand gold crowns worth of garbage from the life I lived before this one. I will hear no more of this!”
The big man stormed off the porch and let the heavy front door slam behind him. Erin hung her head, guilt written on her face, until she looked up and saw Rory’s expression.
“What?” she asked him.
“Did he just say ‘a few thousand gold worth of garbage’?” Rory’s mouth hung open.
“We knew the guy was loaded already, Rory,” Layla was still playing with Erin’s armor.
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“As much as we might want to deny it, refusing his gratitude is probably rude,” Jack offered.
“Pfft. Just Earth has a dozen cultures where not refusing a gift at least once is rude, and just as many where refusing a gift could be considered a mortal insult. It’s not like we can possibly know the right move. Erin’s instinct to try to refuse a gift of ten times as much coin as we’ve seen in one place is probably reasonable,” Rory replied.
“Thanks Rory,” Erin frowned.
Enora emerged from inside the house, her apron dusted with the thick brown flour they’d become familiar with during their stay.
“Well, what happened?” she eyed the four.
“I’m sorry Enora. It’s just… the armor. It’s so much money,” Erin started to answer.
“Then say your gratitude, warrior,” she smiled. “We could not spend all the profit Toben has made over the years in two lifetimes. That old box he opened was a war chest in case one of our young ones chose to join the Legion against his advice. He hasn’t even given you the rest of the presents,” she laughed loudly at their shocked faces.
“What other presents?” Layla’s face lit up. “Do I have one?”
“The old bull took your glimmerweave while you were asleep and had Naviah’s mother weave a set of battle robes for you. Should be done tomorrow. She hasn’t done that kind of work in ten years, but Toben has favors all about Mistelein. He cares about this place,” she smiled gently at them.
“I’m afraid to ask,” Rory said.
“Oh, I’m sure he has something for you too. What it could be, I have no idea,” she chuckled.
-----
It turned out, Toben’s gift to Rory was a small personal journal that detailed a number of possible paths, skills, and talents that might appear for him as he progressed his merchant class, including an exacting guide on how to earn the Merchant of Death talent, which he demonstrated for Rory. The talent allowed Toben to effortlessly retrieve, stow, and swap weapons from within his Arcane Store, the same inventory talent Rory possessed. The four marveled as the giant drew half a dozen weapons that sparked and shimmered with various enchantments, then used the talent to instantly don a full suit of heavy armor. The only drawback to the Talent was that it cost Stamina in addition to the Mana cost of opening his storage. He spent the rest of the morning showing Rory various other skills and tricks he could integrate between his thief-like build and the Merchant class, though Rory insisted he was happy with his combat ability and would be focusing on the Vandal’s social abilities in the future.
The glimmerweave robes were less “robes” and more particularly stout dress that was surprisingly revealing for its role as quasi-armor. Enora showed Layla the odd wings that flowed from the shoulders, and the clever contraption that fastened the wings over Layla’s bodice, protecting from the dangers of the ever-scorned boob window. The robes also had a hood she could draw over. Toben explained the robes likely wouldn’t stop anything as dire as a sword thrust, but lesser monsters would be unable to penetrate the fabric with claw and fang. Finally, Layla estimated the glimmerweave increased her mana recovery by around ten to fifteen percent, though she wouldn’t have an exact number until a few hours had passed.
Toben and Enora insisted the four stay one more night and start out north the next morning. The Chosen agreed it was the least they could do after being lavished with gifts, and they settled in for an evening that largely consisted of stuffing themselves with Enora’s cooking, Toben’s wine, and grilling both of them for every bit of information they could find about the Northern Front.
The dangers of the front seemed largely exaggerated, but Toben didn’t mince words about what lived beyond the no-man’s land. The inhabitants of Red Stone were largely the type of creatures the Chosen would be inclined to slay thus far in their adventures. Creatures that were remarkably similar to monsters of myth and legend, massive floating eyeballs that cast beams of annihilating force, humanoids with the heads and features of beasts, ogres, gremlins, and other various beasties.
Ostlin was a city ruled by what humans would consider monsters, and though imperial races were not forbidden from entering the city, their presence there would be strange, if not unique. Simply crossing the border wouldn’t plunge them into a sea of monstrous races, but the citizens of Mistelein and any villages they passed through on the way north would likely be the last humans the four saw for some time.