“Oh no.”
Rowan felt his spirits drop into the pit of hell.
He had been called out to a group, where he found himself paired with Silas, Dick from back in the dormitory, another boy… and one girl. They all stood awkwardly in their designated place. The girl was the first to break the ice by introducing herself.
Her name was Ada. Apparently, she had Pointer as a Profession. Upon elaboration, that was due to a high Dexterity score, 19.
Dick was a Mender, with a high Wisdom score of 18. The other boy was Luther, an Arcanist with Intelligence. He did not look like he was someone who’d sit in the Royal Academy.
But the real reason for Rowan’s desolation was striding toward them. Amelia was coming.
After being split, each group in succession had one of the company’s employees coming and bringing them toward a side building. After a short while, the next group was called and went there. Rowan presumed that each group went with their teacher, obviously the person who took charge of each group.
And it seemed they would be in the loving care of Amelia.
Well, he had had worse gangmasters. But usually, those were for the day job. Something told him he wouldn’t see Amelia just for today.
“Ok, you’re designated Blue Team. Don’t start to think the colour itself has meaning. But if you hear someone calling Blue Team, that’s you.”
She watched carefully her charges.
“What’s your colour?”
“Blue, m’lady,” said Rowan.
“Don’t m’… Oh funny. Didn’t I tell you that on the Docks already?”
Rowan kept silent. The milady had escaped him naturally, as he couldn’t expect such a woman to be anything else.
“Now, we’re going to give you very, very basic outfits. Until you improve, it’s all you can use anyway. I haven’t changed back into mine, but believe me, I’ll be much much happier once I do. Now let’s get to the quartermaster.”
She turned around and the five started after her.
The building had a large room, with stack upon stack of boxes. In the middle, a burly man with a leather outfit, brimming with studs and sewed chain links waited. Amelia handed him a paper. The man read quickly and then considered the group of recruits.
“So, which of you is the Shieldbearer? Rivers, come front.”
Rowan left his group and came to the man.
“Mmm. Midsize, slight height. You’re what? 5 feet 6? Looks like.”
“I think so, m’lord.”
“Stop the lord. I’m Maxwell or Quartermaster. You all need to drop this habit. So, a mid-size…”
The man searched a wall until he found the box he was looking for and rummaged in it. He pulled out a set and handed it to Rowan.
“M’l… Quartermaster? That’s… ringmail?”
“Yep. What did you expect, fancy cloth? You’re the Shieldbearer, which means you’re going to be the front man of this team. Get there and change.”
“But…”
“Don’t worry. You won’t have a problem wearing it. It looks heavy, but it’s the Labyrinth. You’ll see. Now get in that box and change.”
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Rowan found himself in a small boxlike separation from the room. At least they had a provision for modesty. Removing his overclothes in public would be bad already, but there were two women in the room.
He wiggled out of his pants and carefully folded the jacket. He then took the ringmail and looked it carefully. He found it relatively thin-looking. Shaking it a bit, he felt its weight. Heavy, but not too heavy. He’d never seen any ringmail. Even the knights didn’t wear one in the modern age. Soldiers were redcoats, not armoured troops.
He was trying to wiggle his arms into the torso when he heard the shout from the main room.
“Those are… pants!” said the feminine voice, which he recognized as being Ada.
Maxwell’s voice replied, “you’re a Pointer. You can get away with a skirt at level 1, but you won’t be good for long in those. Get used to pants.”
“But that’s immodest. I can’t wear those.”
“Yes, you can. Three-fourth of women in the Labyrinth have an outfit with some form of pants. You’re going to be bad without them, and being bad will kill you.”
“I can’t…” wailed Ada.
“Get those on, you silly. I do wear pants myself all the time. I just put a skirt when I get back to England because you’d cause a riot otherwise, but here, it won’t matter. So get over it,” came the voice of Amelia.
“I cannot…”
A slap sound sounded across the room. From the volume, it wasn’t a small one. Rowan froze as Ada’s wail started.
“Stop behaving like a spoiled child, and get changed there. If you start complaining again, I’ll start docking your pay, and THEN I’ll drag your ass into the changing booth and I’ll strip you myself.”
Rowan carefully waited until the sounds faded before lifting the curtain and coming back into the room. He felt silly wearing that ringmail. At least, they hadn’t given him a helmet or anything like that.
At least not yet.
He stared. While Ada had vanished from sight, the four other boys had come out of their respective booths, and their outfit looked relatively ridiculous. He shouldn’t have worried about his ringmail.
Both Luther and Dick wore a basic burlap robe that looked more like it belonged to a monk than a labourer. Silas had a full leather outfit, not too different from the Quartermaster’s, but without all the decorations and studs that adorned it. Compared to the rest of the group, Rowan’s didn’t feel so silly anymore.
Then he spotted Amelia sporting a small smile, which was the first time he saw that expression on her face and realized he still probably looked silly, just in the right company.
“While we wait for your five, you can check your outfits with the Interface.”
He could? How… but as previously, simply focusing on the outfit gave him the corresponding mental page.
Outfit
Light Ringmail Vest
Level 1, Defence rating 3
Light Ringmail Glove
Level 1, Defence rating 2
Light Ringmail Leggings
Level 1, Defence rating 3
Light Ringmail Boots
Level 1, Defence rating 2
Whoa. All of the gear he’d received was listed, along with some values indicating a ‘Defence’. The level 1 mention was presumably linked to his Profession. Focusing on one item, he was surprised to see a new page pop.
Light Ringmail Vest
Torso
Basic equipment
Requires: level 1
Provide: Defence rating +3
The Quartermaster was rummaging in his boxes again. Satisfied, he came back and handed two items to Rowan. A small shield, round, a foot wide, plain wood wide a small embossed iron disc in the middle. And a mace. He’d seen some, used by gang tough guards. A wooden handle with a flared iron head.
“Your tools,” said Maxwell.
He handed a long dagger to Silas and two plain staves to Luther and Dick. Then they all settled to wait for Ada to finish outfitting herself. Meanwhile, Rowan used the Interface to look at his new items.
Basic Wooden Small Targe
Off-hand
Basic equipment
Requires: level 1
Provide: Defence rating +10
The shield seemingly provided more defence than the mail. So… that was why he was handed one.
When Ada stepped out of the changing booth, all the boys stared. She sported a stricken expression, whose source was very obvious. She had a complete leather outfit, pants, long-sleeved jacket, and even boots. But where Silas’ was plain and basic, hers had half a dozen pockets sewn to her tights and sides. She stood there, fidgeting.
“Boys. No staring. Besides, you’ll get used to it. And if you stare too much on someone’s with a higher Profession than yours, you’ll be sorry.”
Rowan gulped. He remembered the woman in the street, casually cutting the finger pointed at her.
Maxwell handed Ada two knives. She stared at them, unbelieving.
“Stow them in your side pockets. Easier to draw.”
“That’s…”
Amelia interrupted immediately, “Don’t start again. It’s hard to break your wrong habits, but we need to do it, and the faster, the better. Now pick those knives and follow me.”
She turned out and walked out. The group gathered itself and followed, the boys risking glances at each other and Ada.