The cabin boy wasn't wrong in his predictions: the sun hadn't set yet when I stepped onto the smooth stone of the quay of the free city of Tries. After the interrogation arranged for me by the boatswain of the "Wrath of Antares," I thought that the customs procedures I would have to go through would take several hours, but, thank all the gods, this assumption turned out to be wrong. Everything went much faster and easier.
Firstly, we were met not by a regular customs clerk but by a port officer, which was logical, as the "Wrath of Antares" docked at the military pier. Secondly, he wasn't interested in me at all. More precisely, after Aun called me his escort, the officer handed me over to the care of his assistant, a gray-haired fleet quartermaster, who clearly didn't care about anything, and he quickly settled the papers.
Of course, I had to answer a few general questions. Then, because I hadn't joined any of the Guilds yet, I had to place my palm on the Artifact of Knowledge. This was a standard magical construct that showed the rank of the Core of the one who touched it. Theoretically, thanks to the memory of the future, I knew how to trick such a tool. But at the moment, I lacked the strength, skills, and abilities for such deception. Moreover, there was no need for me to hide my rank from the authorities.
The quartermaster noted my full Bronze in some scroll and made me buy a bronze-colored bandage, which I, as a guest of the city, had to wear all the time. A narrow colored ribbon, the price of which on any market did not exceed a couple of coppers, cost me a whole silver. However, I gave this money without any particular irritation; such fees are a common thing in any part of Ain, and getting upset about them is as pointless as fighting windmills. That wasn't the end of my expenses; I also had to pay for the right to carry weapons within the city limits. I could have avoided paying this tax by handing over my spear to the nearest marshal, but even the thought of such a thing was unpleasant to me. So another three silvers went to seal the cover of the spearhead. As for the entrance fee, which for those arriving by sea to Tries was almost five silver coins, I, as an escort of a citizen of the city, didn't have to pay it.
In the end, my whole conversation with the fleet quartermaster took no more than ten minutes. And after all such simple formalities were completed, I was ushered out of the military pier area and left to my own devices. I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye to Aun. Unlike me, the boy didn't get off so quickly. The lad was taken to the local admiralty building, where he would, apparently, have to answer a lot of questions about his father's death and the loss of the trading ship. This was a peculiar downside to city-states with their excessive bureaucracy. To the west of the Great Ridge, things were much simpler in this regard, and people relied more on word and oath than on paperwork. However, simpler didn't mean better, something I remembered well, thanks to my future memory.
Despite the fact that it was my first time in this city and it was close to sunset, I wasn't afraid of getting lost. Tries was an ancient city built before the Fall, and at that time, cities were built according to a specific plan. This didn't mean that all old settlements were the same, no, each of them was unique and individual, but the general principles of planning were essentially identical. And knowing these principles, I quickly found the inn recommended to me by Aun.
The wide street that ran from the port to the central square was paved with smooth stone, and six chariots could easily ride side by side on it. At this time of day, it was full of carts with various goods, which the merchants were hurrying to distribute to warehouses and shops before the sun set and the port closed.
Due to my typical Western appearance, the locals were eyeing me, but they didn't point at me like it was on Un. Still, Tries is a major trading city, and you can meet representatives of many races of Ain here.
Unlike Pentapolis, the local municipality, no matter how rich and prosperous it might be, couldn't afford the full night-time illumination of the city. Nevertheless, Tries tried to look wealthy, and its central part was equipped with magical lamps, which lit up as soon as the sun began to set over the horizon.
The inn recommended by Aun was outside this zone of city lighting, but its owner took care to highlight the establishment's name. And although this light was not magical, from a regular oil lamp, it was enough for me to see the sign from a distance.
In Tries, I had several things planned, but most of them were better to start in the morning, in daylight. That's why I first rented a room for a week, paying a third less than the city average. This discount was due to Aun's recommendation. Then I had a hearty dinner, evaluating the local cuisine as overly sour and over-salted but still quite edible. After that, leaving my spear and shedding my armor, taking only my wootz dagger with me and changing into civilian clothes, I stepped out onto the already dark street.
The southern, also known as the port part of Tries, according to Aun, was famous for its taverns, bars, hotels, and brothels. Also, it's the noisiest part of the city, with a clear emphasis on entertainment for sailors bored at sea. The inn where I was staying was located in this part of the city. As soon as I stepped out the inn's door, I was nearly trampled by a group of slightly drunk sailors who, judging by the conversation, were looking for the cheapest brothel. Not wanting to quarrel with them, as there would be no point in it, I walked in the calm and measured gait of a confident man towards the city center.
The first thing to take care of this evening was to get to the local Arena and familiarize myself with the tournament registration rules. If not for my new memory, I would probably have spent the first day in Tries getting to know the city. Built before the Fall, its architecture was reminiscent of ancient Greek and Roman polises in their heyday. This was especially felt in the central part, and the local Arena reminded me strongly of a scaled-down copy of the Roman Colosseum. A random tourist, if there were such on Ain, could easily spend a day just walking and enjoying the views and still not see everything. But I'm not a tourist, and my future memory conveniently suggested the most interesting and curious details.
With a brisk, businesslike stride, I reached the Arena, where I easily found a large bulletin board at the main entrance. As I had thought, the rules for the upcoming tournament, which was being held under the patronage of the Alchemists' Guild, were posted on it. Despite the late hour, several dozen people were crowding around this board. The majority were local onlookers, mostly discussing bets, but there were also those, like me, who were studying the rules.
In the past cycle, I didn't participate in tournaments. First, I was too busy. Second, the rewards for participation did not entice me at that time, and I couldn't count on winning. But now the situation was different, and the questers' task greatly limited me in the choice of my further path.
Having read the rules, I thought for a moment, then reread them again, and only after that I stepped away from the bulletin board. Unlike the Artifactors' and Tunnellers' Guilds, the alchemists approached the organization of their tournament in a more "competitive" manner. This was reflected in the fact that there was a division of participants by rank. Just like on Earth, in boxing or wrestling, there are weight categories, so here, only these weight categories were replaced by ranks. Essentially, there were three tournaments in one: Iron, Bronze, and Steel. And the culmination of this event was a single fight of three, the winners from each rank. A match of every man for himself under the "Great Tree" potion.
Willingly consumed, the "Great Tree" potion temporarily blocked access to the Core, not only making it impossible to use techniques, spells, skills, and auras but also reducing a person's physical abilities to the level of the Wooden rank. During the last Cycle among earthlings, there was a horror story that this potion could reset the abilities of its user forever, but in the end, no one found confirmation of these rumors.
Another interesting point concerned registration for the tournament. The main catch turned out to be a note stating that only those who did not belong to any of the Great Guilds were admitted to the contest. That is, if I had first visited the Tunnellers' Guild and inscribed my name on the pages of their Book, I would have been denied registration for the competition.
Most likely, the Alchemists hold similar tournaments throughout Ain, looking out for promising candidates. In favor of this guess of mine also stood that such competitions were held only among those who had not reached Wootz. Remembering that registration for the tournament starts every day two hours after sunrise and ends at sunset, I stepped away from the bulletin board.
What I read made me slightly adjust my plans for tomorrow. Early in the morning, I was going to go to the Temple and undergo the Rite of Self-Knowledge to confirm that my Talents had not changed from the last cycle. Although I was sure of this, checking wouldn't hurt. Then I planned to visit the Tunnellers' Guild and join it, but now this item will have to be postponed until the end of the tournament.
In light thoughtfulness, I reached the middle of the central square and stopped next to a large fountain. Because I had been resting for almost a day on board the "Wrath of Antares," I didn't want to sleep at all. And wasting time was not the best decision in my situation. Flipping a small copper coin into the air, I caught it and, seeing that it landed reverse up, I threw it into the fountain with a smile on my face and headed for the port part of Tries. My plans for the night were to find "adventures" and get into "trouble." And this was a fully conscious choice.
Back on Un, Ender mentioned that the Thieves' Guild was flourishing in Tries. If you add to this knowledge that this is an old city, it's not hard to guess that somewhere in its walls or nearby is the true altar of Seguna. And although this altar did not fall under the questers' task, as it was definitely known to the local criminal world, it would not be superfluous to offer a prayer on it and receive a useful shadow skill.
The difficulty lay in the fact that the altar of Shadow is quite tricky to find on your own. So it seemed to me the simplest to look not for the altar itself but for someone who knows where it is. That is, to find a thief. And not just a street bum, but a professional in his field, and preferably, this professional should not be higher than me in rank. The task was not the easiest, but I was sure I could play a good bait for a thief, so it was worth a try. Plus, my new skill, which allows me to determine ranks, will help me not to run into someone significantly higher than me on the Spiral Steps.
Assessing various options, I headed back to the port district. The logic behind this decision was simple: it was home to most drinking establishments and city guests, sailors, and visiting traders. It seemed to me that the combination of these two factors made this district the best for thieves' activities.
Robbing me was not that simple. I didn't carry a typical wallet, and most of the money was hidden in the orcish belt. A belt that can't be cut with a sharpened coin and reaching its hidden compartments unnoticed is very challenging for a thief. Therefore, I wasn't afraid of petty street crooks, but my quite expensive clothes, gifted by Larindel, could attract those who prefer not to settle for small things but to hunt for bigger game.
As soon as I left the central square, I adopted the appearance of a foreigner and gawker who finds everything curious and exciting. My atypical appearance for these parts worked in my favor, instantly exposing me as an outsider. After an hour of seemingly mindless and chaotic wanderings through the port part of the city, it dawned on me that I was doing something wrong. During all the time that I gawked at the "wonders of local architecture" in the dim light of the Night Sister, only a homeless boy tried to rob me, earning a hefty cuff on the back of his head for his efforts. This incident made me realize that serious people don't work on the street. I needed a tavern or a bar next to a large inn where traders stayed. Luckily, in this part of Tries, there were more than enough of such places. As soon as I thought of such a venue, I found a similar one just around the corner.
The tavern, which could afford a couple of impressive bouncers of the Bronze rank stationed at the entrance, was located right opposite a large inn with a fancy sign. The senior of the guards, glancing at me, immediately estimated the cost of my clothes, bowed with a cloying smile, and obligingly opened the door for me. Pretending that I was used to such treatment, I didn't even dignify this guard with a nod and entered the establishment.
My first glance at the interior suggested that I had made a mistake in my choice. It was too lavish and tidy for thieves. The owners of such places prefer to pay tribute to the Thieves' Guild so that they would not bother their clients. But it would also be wrong to turn around and leave from the doorway, as it could arouse suspicion if someone was already secretly following me. Therefore, I sat down at something like a bar counter and ordered some good white wine and an expensive salad with redfish. And so as not to waste time, I listened to the conversations around me.
As expected, the discussions at the neighboring tables revolved around two topics: trade deals and the upcoming tournament. I didn't hear anything new or interesting, so when they brought me the salad, I lazily poked at it and, causing a minor scandal about its alleged over-saltiness, left the establishment with a disgruntled face. This public expression of discontent was needed to leave this overly presentable place without raising suspicions. The customer simply didn't like the cuisine, so he left, nothing unusual.
I took a more careful approach in choosing the next drinking establishment, but the density of pubs in this part of town was so high that I didn't have to look for long, and a tavern that met my requirements was found on the same street. It was also a fairly neat place that was trying to look respectable. But my eye quickly caught some minor touches that clearly showed that the financial condition of this tavern was not the most optimistic. And if so, then its owner simply might not have enough money to pay the contributions to the Thieves' Guild.
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Approximately a third of the tables were free, and I quickly found a suitable place. On the one hand - so that I could see the entire hall, and on the other - so that I could be seen from any part of it.
While questioning the waiter, I looked around the establishment without attracting attention. As I thought, it suited me. The tavern was not so fancy that the wealthiest merchants dined here, but at the same time, not so cheap that ordinary sailors could afford to drink here. Middle-class merchants, officers of trading ships, and a couple of low-ranking port officials celebrating some huge bribe were the kind of customers it attracted.
I intentionally argued loudly with the waiter, insisting that, in my opinion, they didn't know how to brew beer in Tries, thereby undoubtedly attracting the attention of everyone in the hall. Afterward, I let myself be persuaded to try the local frothy drink with the house snack. I intentionally acted loudly and a bit provocatively, but without crossing the line where I might be taken for a rude boor who has lost his bearings.
The first sip of the beer brought by the waiter proved me right, but as it was still far better than the brew in Unudo, I pretended to like it. The snack of deep-fried squid rings, however, turned out to be surprisingly excellent. The local chef, it seemed, had at least three Talent stars in cooking.
Leaning comfortably back in my chair, I tossed the waiter a silver coin and asked him to sit down and tell me about the town. I did it in such a way that everyone in the room could hear my request. This was necessary to ensure that no one had any doubts that I was new to the city. It also suggested to the right people that I didn't have a guide and was, therefore, alone and didn't know anyone there since I was asking about the city from a random person.
It's quite possible that there are no thieves nearby, and my performance is played out in vain. But even if that's the case, I'm still spending my time usefully, learning new details about the city and the mood of its inhabitants. Besides, I was lucky: the young waiter turned out to be a fan of fights and spent most of his free time at the Arena, watching duels. This wasn't surprising, as the battles in the Arena here replaced soccer, hockey, and all other sports, and fight enthusiasts among the youth were quite common.
As soon as I found out this detail, I immediately began to question him about what he knew about the Alchemists' Guild tournament and especially about the fighters who would be participating in it. Of course, the lad was waiting for the competition, and it had been the main topic of conversation in his circles for about a month. According to him, the last tournament held by one of the Great Guilds in Tries was almost ten years ago, so the current one was indeed causing quite a stir among fight enthusiasts. To my disappointment, he couldn't say much about most of the participants. Local famous fighters were all members of some guild and wouldn't have been able to register for the tournament. But still, the waiter had heard something about someone, and another silver coin loosened his tongue.
Most of what the guy told me in the breaks between serving other tables could be described as rumors, but that didn't stop me from soaking up the information like a sponge. In less than twenty minutes, I decided that my stroll around evening Tries had paid off handsomely, thanks only to this one encounter. And even if I didn't provoke a single thief, it was still time well spent. The fact alone that this youth knew the complete regulations of the tournament, which were not posted on the notice board, made up for my entire order in this tavern. According to him, for each rank, there were planned five rounds of elimination fights. But due to the large number of people willing to participate in the tournament, on the first day, there would be a qualifying round. More precisely, a mass brawl, and only the sixteen best performers there would advance to the main tournament bracket, where they would fight against the sixteen participants who had already been selected in advance.
It was unpleasant news for me, as "every man for himself" mass fights are a lottery. If five people attack you from the start without wasting time on conspiring, no skill will help. On the other hand, you could just run away from the fight if the arena is big and remain among those standing at the end of the battle without crossing swords with anyone. I think such methods of screening are somewhat dubious, but the Alchemists' Guild has chosen them and probably had some reason for it. From the point of view of a fight enthusiast like the local waiter, it seemed, they did not make a mistake, as the young man was looking forward to this mass battle perhaps more than anything else.
I was so engrossed in questioning the waiter that not only I forgot why I had come here, but I also stopped watching the other patrons. It was only when the young man jumped up from his seat and interrupted his tale that I noticed the place had gotten somewhat quieter. The reason for this change was quickly found, practically at the next table. Two young men had sat down there, who, judging by their bearing and uniform cloaks, were officers of the military fleet.
From the behavior of the familiar to me waiter and the chef, who had personally come out to them, I understood that one of them was a regular at this tavern. I didn't like such sudden proximity. Not because I had a bad attitude toward the military but because no sane thief would steal in front of an officer. After all, this wasn't Earth, the rules and laws were far less humane, and a soldier who noticed a theft would simply kill the perpetrator on the spot and would be within his rights to do so. I should have left this little restaurant as soon as this pair entered, but I still had many questions for the waiter and decided to stay for another half hour.
The fleet officers behaved like they owned the town, speaking loudly and unabashedly as if there were no one else in the room. One of them was of Wootz rank, the other of Steel. Willingly or not, I was forced to listen to their conversation. As far as I could tell, these two were old friends, serving on different ships, and now they had met in the city for the first time in half a year. At first, they were simply overjoyed and asked each other about what had happened while they did not see each other, but after the second mug of beer, they started discussing naval doctrines.
The older of the two was very ambitious and lamented that according to the current rules, he could not become the captain of his own ship sooner than ten or even fifteen years. The other responded that at least he had some chances because the first was from a wealthy family, but for him, such an opportunity would probably never present itself, as his lineage was from the lower strata of society. Within twenty minutes, I involuntarily learned more about the fleet of Tries than I wanted, many times over. Why would I need to know that the primary doctrine of the military fleet revolves around a confrontation with neighboring city-states? And as a consequence, for over half a century in Tries, they've been building only large ships capable of withstanding the turmoil of a major battle. But such large galleys are very expensive both in construction and in operation. Therefore, there cannot be many of them. This leads to the fact that for a young officer, it is practically impossible to get a warship under their command. The competition for such a place is too great. And the older of the two sitting at the neighboring table was categorically dissatisfied with this.
However, from the conversation of these officers, I understood why the pirates had become so rampant in local waters. The city-states that could have kept the sea robbers in check were too busy confronting each other and building large fleet battleships. This was justified for fighting against similar giants, but such ships physically could not fight pirates. Simply because, no matter how much they wanted to, the "Wrath of Antares" could never catch up to the "Bloody Wave" if the latter had a full crew. The speed of pirate ships was much greater than that of the hundred-meter giants of the battle fleet. To fight pirates, you need similarly fast and maneuverable galleys, but there wasn't enough fleet budget left for their construction, as it all went to maintaining large ships.
As far as I understood, the older of this pair of officers wished to change the situation. According to him, instead of a new giant, the city should lay down five smaller galleys and put them to fight the pirates. And if a big war with the neighbors happened, these small vessels could be used for communication and privateering.
Involuntarily listening to their conversation, I even agreed with the arguments of the young officer; they were pretty reasonable. But the local Senate stubbornly adhered to traditions and did not want to change anything. Nevertheless, the young man who wanted to get a ship under his command turned out to be quite pushy and managed to gain support for his idea in the Trade League. But even having won the favor of such a rich and influential organization, he did not achieve much.
"Can you believe it!" Taking a large gulp, the officer of Wootz rank banged his mug on the table. "Those old curmudgeons said they wouldn't mind and would even give money for the upkeep of 'small galleys.' But! They can't allocate funds for their construction!"
"How so?" His companion didn't understand.
"Well, just like this." The older of the officers spread his arms. "If I build such a ship with my own money, they will provide gold for its maintenance. As if to say, since I want to fight pirates so much, I should find the funds to fulfill my 'wishes' myself. The old commander told me so straight."
"If the OLD MAN himself said that, then you won't see the funding." The younger officer shook his head.
"That's true!" The older officer nodded at his words, but his tone was quite spirited, not at all disappointed. "Lanon, tell me, if I find a ship, will you join me as the first mate?"
"Uh..." The younger officer froze for a moment at this offer. "You said yourself that there won't be any small ships because the city doesn't have money for their construction."
"I have an idea..." The older officer grinned. "But before I tell you, answer my question! Will you come with me as a first mate if I find a ship?"
"I will!" Without a moment's hesitation, the one called Lanon responded.
"Great!" The older officer slapped his friend on the shoulder and suddenly lowered his voice. "Finish your beer and let's go; I'll tell you the details on the way."
Because of this pair and their loud conversation, I had to postpone my questions to the waiter about the tournament, so when the officers left, I was even relieved. Unlike Larindel, I'm not so curious, and I was not at all interested in what the older officer came up with or whether he will become the captain of his own ship in the near future or not. I was much more interested in the rumors about the fighters, as well as a new pair of visitors who had settled in the darkest corner of the hall.
Outwardly, this pair looked like merchants. The elder, about forty years old, sported a stubby goatee, while the younger, no older than Aun, behaved as if he had landed in a big city for the first time. They did not stand out from the other patrons. Neither at first glance nor at the second was there anything unusual or attention-grabbing about them. Or rather, there was nothing unusual for other patrons, but I noticed a clear mismatch right away.
Like me, both of these merchants wore "guest ribbons," indicating their rank. The strip of fabric around the elder's neck was bronze, while the younger had a copper one. But thanks to my ability to see the hidden, I discerned that their ribbons were nothing more than fake. Because in reality, the bearded one had an Emerald rank, and the one playing the provincial youth, like me, was a Bronze.
Continuing to question the waiter about the tournament, I tried not to lose sight of this pair. Externally, they behaved decently and fully corresponded to the image they played. If not for my ability to see people's true ranks, I would not have paid attention to these visitors at all. Of course, they could be not the ones I was looking for. There were many options: a well-known teacher traveling with his student and not wanting to be recognized, spies from a neighboring city or local watchdogs, a pair of hired assassins or bounty hunters tracking their target. But nevertheless, they could be precisely the ones I was looking for.
In the past Cycle, "I" had never been to Tries. And, of course, I did not know the rules of the local Thieves' Guild. But I did often cross paths with thieves during my stay in Deytran and even knew the head of the Deytran guild, the only Mithril-rank thief in all of Ain. "I" had to get acquainted with him after his men robbed Katashi Atsushi's warehouse and carried away a dozen artifacts handcrafted by the Japanese man. "I" managed then to negotiate with Shiifu, the grandmaster thief, and return the artifacts for a symbolic fee. Two months after that incident, Katashi personally killed Shiifu. That's one thing the future God of Labor never complained about, his memory. And he neither knew how to forgive those who crossed his path nor did he want to.
Thanks to these memories, the current me understood the general principles and rules of how thieves operated. One of the foundations of the Deytran Thieves' Guild was so-called examinations. Anyone wishing to raise their status had to pass a test under the supervision of a more experienced thief. The most common exam was to rob whoever the examiner pointed out. And so, this pair of supposed merchants, sitting in the dark corner, strongly reminded me of the conduct of such a test.
If the person hiding his high Emerald rank under the guise of a merchant is indeed conducting an exam, then he is likely to choose as a victim, not a simple target, like, for example, a drunk boatswain at the bar counter. Even a boy could rob such a person. On the other hand, fleet officers would be too complex and dangerous a choice for the Bronze youngster. The target of such a test should be someone in between these two extremes, and it is such a person that I tried to portray. A stranger, moderately drunk but not having lost his caution, not flashing his wallet, but hiding money in a battle belt.
However, all my speculations might be in vain, and the rules by which the local Thieves' Guild lived might be pretty different from the Deytran ones. Nonetheless, I had played out a convenient target for an experienced thief from the start. So, little about my behavior has changed.
Almost an hour had passed since I entered this small restaurant, and I realized that the waiter, in his stories and rumors, began to repeat himself. And outside, a light rain had begun, and the clouds covered the Night Sister, making the night city even darker.
Having paid for the food and drinks, not forgetting to demonstrate where I got the money from, I thanked the waiter for his stories and, mimicking a drunk gait, bumping the door jamb with my shoulder, left the tavern.
Outside, it was indeed drizzling unpleasantly. Plus, sharp gusts of strong wind from the sea occasionally whipped up a mist of water and literally threw it in my face. Unpleasant but tolerable, especially since the weather had put out all the oil lamps that tavern owners lit for advertising. Rain, darkness, rare passers-by, small puddles underfoot - perfect for unexpected armed robbery, but not the best ambiance for quiet thievery. Because of the drizzle, fingers might get wet and slip, and a thief might stumble at the wrong time and attract attention. It's inconvenient and dangerous for someone who wants to commit a stealthy theft.
I very much wanted to look back and see if this pair, playing the part of recently arrived merchants, had followed me out or if they remained seated in the tavern. I wanted to, but I restrained myself and didn't turn around. I simply walked ahead, pretending to study all the signs that came across my path, as if looking for another place to have a drink.
One of the Shadow skills allows you to recognize which Auras a person uses, so I couldn't maintain Perception or Acceleration. Because that would have given me away completely, showing that I'm not as drunk as I pretend to be. Perhaps that's why it came as a total surprise when my foot suddenly slipped forward, as if I hadn't stepped into a puddle but onto an ice rink just filled. I didn't even have to pretend to lose balance - I really almost spread out on the pavement. But as soon as I managed to steady myself, a sharp gust of wind hit me in the back, and then I gave in and, with a loud, quite sincere curse, stretched out full length on the stones.
"Didn't you hurt yourself?!" Sounded right next to me, and foreign hands caught me under the armpits. "I'll help you up!"