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Chapter 45: Vocation, Vitor, and Value

Chapter 45: Vocation, Vitor, and Value

“I think I’m ready to officially take the plunge,” Tess told me over dinner.

Tonight Tak supplied the food, bringing over fresh ingredients and making a dish resembling shakshouka, only with gryphon eggs instead of chicken. There was a chicken analog native to Elfhome—yeah, I was back to that name—but they were rarely domesticated. Gryphons had more uses, coming in a vast array of sizes, from, yes, chicken-sized to big enough to ride. All that aside, dinner was delicious, the eggs themselves had a natural spiciness that took the dish to the next level. The more Tak let the rest of us in, the more layers she displayed.

“For what?” I knew, but still had to ask.

“Adventurer training. I have a good nest egg saved, though equipment is going to take a big chunk of it.”

“Have you told Jez and Terrin?”

“Yes. They are sad to see me go, but who wouldn’t be?” Tess put on her best princess look. “I am their number one earner, after all. But they get it. And I can still pick up the occasional [Courier] run for extra money. It’s just not going to be a full-time gig, anymore.”

“Gig?’ asked Tak. She hadn’t learned not to ask, yet. “Isn’t that a boat?”

Tess and I couldn’t help laughing.

“Boulder slang,” I said, falling back on the country hick explanation. “It means a job.”

Lately, I have been talking with Tess about us ‘coming out’ at some point. She was as leery as me but agreed it would have to be done at some point. She was for telling Kolin, obviously, while I thought Magali was the best choice. Tak was way down on the list.

“What does that look like?” I asked my best friend. “Is there an official process? Training certificate; vocational college?”

This time Tak took it in stride. She was a quick learner.

“You have to prove yourself to the Adventure Guild council.” Tak had done the research, hoping to make the same dream a reality. “There is an oral exam…”

//…!//

‘Sia, down.’

“…and a practical one. The Crown insists on it since it sponsors the Guild Teams. Citizens getting killed off for dreams of glory by their own ineptness is bad governance.”

“Not to mention the loss of taxes,” I quipped.

“True, true.” It was good to see Tak loose enough to joke with us. “Decking nobles out in gems and silk—for the good of the people—isn’t cheap.”

“Damn straight,” Tess joined in. “Citizen morale always comes first. A universal constant, across all wor…countries.”

“There are schools if you can afford them,” Tak went on, warming to the topic. I’m sure Tess knew most of this, via Kolin, but it didn’t hurt to learn more. “I could have, before, but there is no way Father is going to pay for me.”

“Yeah, I looked into it, too. My nest egg isn’t that fat, or golden. I’m going the other route, like Kolin did.”

The quizzical look on my face asked the question for me, and Tess obliged.

“You get an established Team to train with. They usually charge something, either in coin or services, unless you have a connection or are a legacy. Your deal with Rolf, Book, is taking care of it for me. Thank you for that, my dude.”

“Of course, Tess. We have to stick together. Besides, who else is going to bail my fat out of the fryer when the Nightshade thugs catch up with us?” I wish I was joking. “Have you decided on a kit, yet?”

“I have a meeting with the weaponsmith Kolin hooked me up with, tomorrow.”

“Oh, could I accompany you, Tess?” The excitement showed in Tak’s eyes.

“Sure. Book is coming too, aren’t you?”

“I guess, though I don’t need anything fancy. And Tak, I thought you wanted your father’s equipment?”

“I do, but I might need a backup plan. You know why.”

“And my offer to go with you still stands,” I reassured the doubting daughter.

“OK. But I would still like to go, check things out.”

“It’s a date then,” said Tess, with Tak blushing for some reason.

“As for armor for me,” I said to move past any embarrassment. “That would be best coming from you, Tak, am I right? You help make armored robes.”

“Yes. I will have to go through Father, officially, but I can waive my part of the cost in exchange for the training opportunity you negotiated. However, it is going cost you a fair bit.”

“I was afraid of that. Oh well, what good is coin if you are not around to spend it? It’s not like I need adventurer-grade protection, too, just good enough to buy time for you two to save my bacon.” I grinned at the women, in no way too ‘macho’ proud to think I could do it better.

//We get it, you're an ally. Now, can you please stop?//

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'Sorry.'

Tess sniffed at the air. “Mmmm, bacon.”

“You two are so odd,” Tak said, her smile taking any sting out of the comment.

“You have…”

“…no idea!”

----------------------------------------

It was after work the next day, and we hurried to “Vitor’s: Master of Arms”. One thing the ‘modern’ world of Earth did right was extended hours for businesses. Here, most shops held the same hours as each other, which meant the workers of the said shops could have a hard time visiting them. Of course, adventurers didn’t keep regular day hours so the majority of clientèle for that particular flavor of shop didn’t need to worry about it. Only wannabes with real jobs needed to stress themselves.

The chime over the heavy, iron-banded door gave a deep bong. I loved it, not missing the electronic dings of Earth in the slightest. I’m not sure what I expected—maybe racks of exotic weapons lining the walls under ferocious shields hanging from the bricks. Instead, we were welcomed with a blast of intense heat, with only the bog standard counter separating the front of the shop from a series of forges, anvils, and other, more esoteric tools. There was a variety of wooden mannequins—similar to tailoring dummies, but these had heads—lined up against one wall, like soldiers standing at attention. There was also a large scale, and what looked like a grip-strength tester that you’d see in an arcade. You know, insert the tokens and squeeze, the machine telling you if you are a ‘wuss’ or a spinach-eating ‘Popeye’, flashing lights and sound effects included.

I guess this was up-scale medieval, the only thing lacking a snooty salesperson and a tray of complimentary champagne.

Behind the counter was a shirtless giant of a man, oversized and sweat-glistening muscles protected by a thick leather apron. The elf gripped a blacksmith’s hammer, pounding it against a bar of metal that glowed red-orange in the dim lighting, with a rhythmic ka-ting!, filling the shop with music.

//Satisfied? One smithing scene pulled directly from hundreds of different fantasy novels//

‘Yes, yes I am. And it’s more like thousands of novels.’

Tak and Tess waited patiently, standing at the counter and drinking in the…ambiance. I kept my face firmly in neutral. After a full five minutes of listening to metal music—Metallica rules!—the smith put the now gray bar of metal back into the fires, set his tool down (//Come on, you gotta give me that one!//), and turned to regard us. He waited, not speaking.

“Yo, I’m looking for some custom work, and was told you might fit the bill.” Tess came out of the gate hot, un-fazed by the smith’s attitude.

“I might,” the smith smiled at Tess’s forthrightness. “What are you looking for? I am Vitor.”

“I am Tess,” she said in her best Mr. Roboto voice. The smith’s—Vitor's—smile spread to his eyes. “I need some flexible, medium armor. Something good for in close fighting, but still letting me move.”

“There are a lot of shops that can produce [Rogue] style armor. You don’t need custom work for that.” Vitor must be good indeed if he could take that stance.

“Sure, dude. But I like to one-stop shop. I'm not a [Rogue], either, but a close-quarter combatant. Now, have you heard of a meteor hammer or sai? “

//Snicker//

‘Huh?’

//”Sai” is the name of Tess’s overlord. I mean, AI companion//

‘Sure you do. Was the name your idea?’

//Stolen from you, yes sir. It fits better than I thought//

“No, ma’am, I have not. And I have heard of every weapon ever made. Or so I thought.” Vitor’s intrigue changed his demeanor in the blink of an eye.

“Got ya, didn’t I?” Tess’s enjoyment was obvious to anyone who could see. “And don’t call me ma’am. Don’t say it, Book.”

//Shirley!//

‘Shirley!’

“OK, Miss Tess. Can you describe them to me?” Vitor the smith pulled a very modern-looking notepad from the pocket of his apron. It was made of small sheets of paper, bound with wire through perforated holes punched in the tops. Now we just need a number 2 pencil, and…Nope, just a charcoal stylus.

“The meteor hammer consists of two, spherical balls—about 6 centimeters diameter, 675 grams each—connected by a 4 meter chain.”

That was about two and half inches around and twelve feet long to those of us still struggling with the metric system, with one and half pound balls.

‘Have at it.’

//Orchitis maximus; elephant orbs; you after hitting on Tess//

‘Ouch.’ That last one hurt.

“Heavy, for the size,” said Vitor in contemplation.

“Yep, it packs a punch. The chain needs to be both strong and as flexible as possible. It wraps around my waist and across my chest when I’m not using it.”

//Book, down//

‘Fair.’

“Interesting. I can do that. What was the other? Sigh?”

“Sai. Basically, a one-handed, three-pronged dagger. Here, give me your pad and I’ll draw it.” She snatched the proffered pad, sketching out a detailed picture. She had some talent as an artist, I have to say. “Traditionally, the longer, central prong isn’t sharp along the edges, just pointed, but I think that is a waste. Besides, the meteor hammer is already a bludgeon, I don’t need a second blunt weapon.”

“Interesting,” the smith said for the second time. “Stab, slash, parry, and disarming with the extra prongs.”

“The pommel needs to be heavy, too. Also, you use them in pairs,” Tess added.

“Balanced, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

There was that word again. My campaign to abolish it ‘obviously’ wasn’t getting any traction.

//Let it go. The joke is dead//

‘Grumble.’

“Alright, Miss Tess, I will take the consignment.”

“So good of you, Mister Vitor. How much will you let me give?”

Vitor thought a moment, certainly crunching the numbers in his head and ignoring the sarcasm. “Not cheap; it might take me several tries to get it right.”

“Sounds like a ‘you’ problem. Why should I pay for you to learn?” Challenge thrown down.

“There is always value in learning something new. But, you have already given me the design specifics. Plus, there is the cost of metal.”

Tess colored at that, realizing the flaw in her tactic.

“But,” I chimed in to help. “Who is going to buy unknown weapons? My friend here is a guaranteed customer, not to mention a walking advertisement for a potential new source of revenue.”

“True,” said Vitor, seeming to enjoy the negotiations. “Only if she is any good, however. And survives her first encounter as an adventurer.”

“Oh, I’m good alright. You have no idea, Vitor.” She practically purred his name. “Besides, who says I’m not a veteran?”

Vitor’s flat stare was enough to shoot that down. “I am sure you are, in…certain…areas. But I’m talking about fighting.”

I sneaked a peak at Tak; she was loving this.

“How about I demonstrate them, on you? And I’m talking about the weapons.”

OK, I was enjoying it, too.

//Where’s the popcorn?//

“Vitor, I noticed you’re not using charcoal for your forge, am I right?” I asked, attempting to get them back on track. I had things to do, the thought of popcorn making me hungry.

“No, I use [heat] scrolls. They have a more intense, consistent quality."

“You don’t say.” Tess and Tak gave me approving smiles. “Would you be open to the idea of a trade?”

It felt good, having value.

Vitor nodded; I smiled.