Chapter 23: Fantasies, Tryouts, and Raised Brows

Magali and I dodged our way through the congestion surrounding the adventure bulletin boards, looking for the red-headed Tak. My two days had passed, making it Eight-day, the day I was supposed to meet her here. It was the middle of the standard three-day weekend, which meant most, if not all, apprentices had the time to mingle. Six-day and Nine-day were a gray area for some, but not Eight-day, it was inviolate. They were even legally enforced by the Matriarchy. And there was no better place to gather than the central courtyard encircled by the major Guilds. None that were free, anyway. Apprentices were the college students of this world, spending their (parents) money on cheap rent and cheaper alcohol. The adventure boards lent a certain atmospheric flair to the downtime, allowing thoughts (fantasies!) of high adventure, gold, fame, and…getting out from under their Masters. (Goooold!) Only a handful were serious about joining the life, the rest were here for that last part (which? both!). Apprenticeships weren’t a 9 to 5 job, five days a week, with your nights and weekends free to fill at your leisure and free internet. No, your life was tailored around the particular Master that held the leash. Metaphorically, of course, though there were always rumours in the air (Night Ranger!), “…like a thief in the night,” I burst forth into song.

Metaphorically, of course. No way was I going to sing out loud in public, not with my voice. I didn't want to entertain torches and pitchforks.

“What’s that, Book? I don’t recognize the words…nice tune though, I like it.” He tried to hum along with me.

“Never mind, Magali. Just a little ditty I heard somewhere…(about Jack and Diane)”. Wow, those were true oldies. 'Dear Mother of Trees, if you see fit, please let some Bard invent rock ‘n roll. Or better yet, Metal! Bless your roots, Amen, and Kiss the Girl'.

“Do you see her?”

“Yes, I do,” I told my friend. I would know that shade of red anywhere and had quickly spotted Tak amidst the crowd. “Over there,” I said and pointed to the same bulletin board where I had found her last time.

We headed towards her, making the occasional detour around some individual clusters of friends. Like on my first trip here, the place screamed of high school cliques. Apprentices had their own hierarchy based on the status of their Masters. I wondered what Magali and I would rate. Tak, who I would have thought ranked relatively high, was conspicuous in her solitude. Her choice? I was looking forward to coming up behind her and, maybe, just giving her a little startle.

“You're here,” she said without turning around. Spoilsport. Her gaze was fixed on the board, so I tried to peer over her shoulder and see which notice had her attention.

“Guild team tryouts!: The Matriarch of Willowstohn, Her Majesty Tellia the First, has proclaimed a Festival of Trials to take place on the vernal equinox, four months hence. Six new Guild Houses will be constructed over the intervening winter season, allowing the placement of six new, official Guild Teams. The aspirants must consist of a six-person team, not previously affiliated with any current Guild Team. Prepare Yourself! And vie for the honor of your matriarch’s favor!”

There was an addendum under it, in smaller print.

(Tryouts are open to all denizens of Oakheart and the surrounding lands, encompassing the whole of the Willowstohn Nation. All are welcome—Apprentices must have the permission of their Master. Entrance fee: 60gp)

The proclamation was printed on thick paper, festooned with seals and a single, red ribbon. Mr. Wordsworth would be proud of the immaculate penmanship, with some additional flourishes that would make an artist weep. Magali gave a low whistle after he finished reading, and I doubt it was for the content. He was about as adventurous as I was. Hanging under the poster on small chains pinned to the wood, two bound reams—of a much lower grade of paper—swung to the rhythm of the passerby. One was marked ‘full teams’, the other ‘searching for a team’. From the pencil Tak held in a lowered hand, I guessed she had just signed her name to the second one.

“Hi, Tak,” I said, placing an emphasis on her name. It had taken me long enough to find out what to call the fiery enchantress. Or maybe, [Enchantress]. I was not sure, but it was where I was leaning. There needed to be an [Enchant] in “Harmsson & Tak; *enchanted tailors*”, and I knew her father was the tailor. I supposed she could be a tailor, too, with a little helper elf ensconced in the back. Wait, was that racist? Speciest? I tried to avoid the minefield in my head since the elves themselves would have no idea what I was going on about. As a matter of fact, did I? Don't answer (gotchya).

“Book,” she said, and then turned to face us. “Magali.” She gave the scribe a familiar nod. She gestured to the canvas satchel I held under my arm. “Those the scrolls?”

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“I’ve got six to sell,” I told her, not mentioning the two [heat-blast] I figured I would showcase to Rolf. We planned to head to Team Brawn’s little, rundown Guild House when we were done here. Thinking of Kolin’s team in conjunction with the royal writ staring back at me, I wondered about the ‘official’ Guild Teams and whether there were ‘unofficial’ ones, as well. Another potential income stream? Or something to steer clear of?

Tak made a ‘come here’ gesture, so I obliged and took a few paces closer to her. So she could better see what I had to offer, OK? (?!) The scrolls! The scrolls.

“I have three of each, “ I said. then I reached in and pulled out one of each so she could inspect them.

“Common.”

The scrolls, right?

“They are, though I’d like to think on the higher end of the spectrum.” Hey, I said ‘like to think’.

“Six coppers, apiece,” she said, or more accurately, stated.

The price I’d given Kolin was seven coppers, and Rolf ended up paying just under that, so I didn’t begrudge her the six copper attempt. I could do the ‘friends and family discount’ for her, that was OK. But I had quoted the [heat] at ten coppers, and I couldn’t live with myself if I went lower than nine. Magali and I had discussed the prices on the way over. Our profit margin would be higher since Magali had sourced the parchments for lower. Quite a bit lower than the full retail price I’d paid to replace Master Alric’s stock. My solo cost of 4.2 coppers in supplies and materials was now reduced to our cost of two coppers per scroll. 1.9, to be exact. One copper for my ink ingredients--only because Master Alric could afford to buy them in bulk quantity--and just under that for Magali and his parchment source. What was the name Magali had told me? Paytin, the apprentice parcheminier. We needed to think more about looping her in, but that would still leave what I needed to make the scrolls. Aside from time, [mana], and my massive talent (an unbearable weight). Nope, that wasn’t arrogance, not at all.

Doubling the profit, but cutting my take in half. Hunh. I would need to figure out a better balance of distribution, considering the more that I contributed. But, I had told Magali fifty-fifty partners. Oh, well, live and learn.

Before I could open my mouth, Magali stepped in. “We can do that, but only for the [torchlight]s. The [heat] scrolls will cost you ten coppers, each. That is a total of forty-eight for all six of them.” He paused here, waiting for Tak’s counter.

“Forty-eight.” Tak was an expert at the one-eyebrow move. “How long have you known me?”

Not long enough. (Jeez, desperate much?)

“Forty-five…”

“…forty-seven…”

“Forty-six,” they came to an accord. I couldn’t tell if they were friends, or what.

Tak pulled coins out of a purse built into her belt and handed them over to Magali. I needed one of those belts, especially if this budding venture took off. I caught Tak glancing at the inside of my pouch as I took out the scrolls she had purchased. Before I knew it, her hand shot out and snatched my wrist in a vice grip.

“Umm, Tak?” I stared at her in surprise. “Wanna let go of me?”

“What are those,” she said, gesturing to the two [heat-blast] scrolls that remained in my bag.

I made my own attempt at the single raised brow—pretty sure both crawled to my hairline—and looked pointedly down to where her fingers were leaving white marks on my skin. I didn’t say anything.

“Tak,” Magali huffed, impatience in every line of his body. Then he did the thang, and I felt totally inadequate. Two out of three (eyebrows) ain’t bad, my ass.

“Sorry,” she said, her tone screaming 'Not!' Yeah, yeah, my inner sarcasm and inside jokes were ramping up. Insecurities suck. I was growing, evidenced by keeping my mouth shut, but there was still a long way to go. She released her grip, and I took the apology for what it was.

I unfurled one of the [heat-blast]s, and held it out for Tak to see. She made to reach for the scroll but aborted the move. Her eyes narrowed in a tiny squint, reading the description from where she stood. My descriptions came courtesy of the [Mark .07] implant, but I still had no idea what the native elves saw. I really wanted to come out (origin-wise) to Magali and probe him for answers to my endless questions. Someday, maybe. I could see when Tak came to the results, as her eyes popped open wide. I could see her fingers twitch, wanting to rip the scroll from my grasp. Something like this would certainly help any aspiring adventurer. What was her niche, anyway? Was I right about her being an [Enchanter]? If I was, a [Scrivener] and an [Enchanter] would make a good team.

“H-how much?” Her cool slipped for half a moment. “I can pay.” I knew combat scrolls were on the rare side outside of the major Guilds, and the Royal Guard, but the greed in her eyes surprised me.

“Not for sale,” Magali said. I knew his ploy.

I cut in with, “Yet. This is the first generation, umm, my first try with something new, and it still needs some testing.”

“What do you mean, ‘new’? Something you found in Master Alric’s old, campaign notes?”

“Nah,” I replied, not thinking. “Something I thought up and threw together.”

“W-what?” It was Magali’s turn to lose his cool. “I just assumed you got it from your Master.”

I may have let him assume that, or at least not corrected him. Come to think of it, he had also mentioned something about a campaign.

“Eh, no biggie.” My try to play it off fell on deaf ears. Their eyes were as big as saucers. “Hey, Tak, do want to come and see us test it? We are heading out to a friend's (Kolin’s ‘officially’ a friend, now?) Guild House from here.”

“You are friends with a Guild Team?!”

Should I be offended by her surprised tone? I saw I went up a few notches in her estimation. She didn’t give me time to think about it before accepting.

“Yes, I would, Book. That is if you are both good with that.” She flashed me her front-counter smile, turning the sales charm on. “I would be greatly interested in seeing the results of your hard work.”

Wow. The girl could give a person whiplash, switching personality gears that quickly. A true professional.

“Let’s go, then,” I said, not giving Magali a chance to object. I turned and started walking to the Guild housing blocks, the best of which were built on the edge of the formal courtyard. Our trek was going to take a lot longer to reach its destination. Where were the new ones being constructed? Eh, no business of mine. I don't believe in silly things like foreshadowing. They both followed along behind me until we came to the wide, paved street and had room to spread out. Magali and Tak flanked me as we walked the streets down to Team Brawn’s Guild House. That was a lot of capital letters.

My damned [System] made me see all of them, even if I didn't physically 'see' them.