Fritz left the smithy with Rosie and Carter, who now looked like proper Climbers to be. He ordered the armed and armoured pair to follow him to his hideout, where he left them by the door and attired himself in his fine coat, pants and shirt.
Rosie's eyes bulged further when she saw him again, in all his splendour, her doubting, derisive demeanour changing into one of complete acceptance and no little awe.
"Come, I have one more purchase to make. Leave behind the shields and spears though, they'll just get in the way," Fritz said, leading the two out into the street and toward the Upper Ring.
Paying another toll at the gate, this time for three, Fritz started to complain out loud, "I swear I've paid at least a silver just going to and from the districts and the docks over the past week. How does the common worker even manage the cost?"
"Some nobles or guilds will buy passes for their labourers," Carter supplied. "Cuts the costs down and speeds things up."
"Is that so?" Fritz asked, somewhat startled by the revelation and cursing the holes in his knowledge.
"Yeah, I had a job like that once, out on the docks," Carter said. "Until a crate went missing and I was blamed. Lost my pass and job then and there without a second look from the warehouse clerk," He added bitterly.
"Hmm, so you tried honest work before becoming a mugger, how righteous of you," Fritz said, letting some approval coat his tones.
Fritz himself had tried that but had learned the hard way that the world wasn't fair, especially to orphans. And double especially to orphans with a 'fancy accent' that he still hadn't quite shaken off fully.
People had always expected the worst from him, and somehow despite his diligence, they would always be vindicated in their expectations. Always some small thing to dock his agreed upon pay; or some large thing to deny him triads at all, then there was a fine or fee on top for good measure. At that point he’d be paying for the ‘privilege’ of working.
"I wouldn't say it was honest, I think I was working for a smuggler in any case," Carter admitted.
Fritz shrugged, "You tried. I suppose, which is more that can be said for some."
"I also tried," Rosie piped up. "Tried to be a seamstress and a fisherman, a labourer and a cook, I've tried my hands at everything, 'cept whoring. But that's 'cause Callum couldn't bear the shame. If his sister sold herself, even if it's easy work."
Carter shook his head. "It's not about shame, ain't no shame in it. Work is work, but you could get hurt when you’re on your own. That and the brothels wouldn't take your ugly mug, no matter how much you begged."
"I didn't beg!" Rosie protested. "They're just too picky."
"Wait.. your name is Callum?" Fritz asked before they could break into more bickering. "Then why have you been letting me call you Carter this whole time? Are you trying to trick me? Are you running some scheme?" He ranted while hiding his mirth at the man's confused and conflicted face.
"I told you the first time-" Carter began.
"So you did, but I like Carter better! So let's keep it at that, or will you continue this mutinous attitude?" Fritz said, cutting the man off and wagging a finger at him as they walked.
Rosie chortled and snorted with barely suppressed laughter. While Carter shook his head vigorously and said, "No, Sir, no mutiny here."
"Good, good," Fritz said jovially as he led them through the clean streets of the Upper Ring.
They gawked and stared at all the mild opulence, the tidily dressed commoners, the passing rain-shielded carriages, the horses in raincoats that pulled them and the wealthy merchants or nobility within.
Fritz wondered what kind of expressions they'd wear if they ever saw the Palace Ring or the noble's estates inside and encircling it. He smirked just thinking about it.
After some minutes of walking through the busy streets of the Upper Ring, they came upon an establishment that suited his needs.
"Ah, just in here, we need some bags, packs and bedrolls." He added motioning to a general Climbing goods store.
They were in and out again within nine minutes, buying each of them and himself some more packs, sacks, a blanket and a bedroll. He decided against rations as he already had his own, smoked strips of armoured shark that would be far more filling and mana-dense than anything this store had to offer.
He also avoided having to shell out more silver for more rope as he still had his dark rope from the Spire and the grappling hook from the Treasure recovery plan, even if they still smelt somewhat of shark guts.
The last stop was the Treasure store from yesterday. Fritz wavered on whether or not to take the two in with him but upon seeing how eager and excited they were he decided to bring them in, just to look.
"Don't touch, that is to say, don't steal anything," Fritz warned them. "It'll all be warded."
"We know that," Rosie whined.
"Just making sure," Fritz said as he entered the store. The small silver bell above the door tinkled and he strode in with an air of confidence.
He quickly found the water flask again but also perused the shelves, looking for the other things he found useful. With some dismay, he noticed that the Message Stone was missing. It had been on his list of wants and had been wondering if he should've asked Bert for part of his share of gold so he could acquire it. Alas, it had been bought by another.
He walked up to the counter and the bored woman behind it set down a book she was reading, one seemingly about a gallant faerie knight by its title: "The Tests and Trails of Black-furred Banneret". It was one Fritz hadn't read before, something that piqued his interest.
"Is that a particularly rare book? I can't say I've seen a faerie tale with that title before," He asked.
"Rare? I'd say so, don't think there's another copy of this in the whole city. Save perhaps the King's personal library," She replied smoothly.
"Lucky you, I'm envious," Fritz complimented with a charming smile.
"Sure," She replied, obviously suppressing the urge to roll her yellow-green eyes at him. "What does the distinguished Sir need?"
Fritz decided to change tact, he suspected she had to deal with plenty of callers and cads who would come in just to court her. She was quite striking, if not beautiful, with her lustrous, shoulder-length brown hair and eyes that reminded Fritz of a cat.
She must be sick to death of the fawning and foppery, so my usual demeanour won't do, he realised.
He dropped many of the extravagant mannerisms he put on to confuse or charm his marks.
"Just wanted the re-filling waterflask," Fritz said.
"Very well," She replied. He waited for a moment expecting her to go get the item.
"Gold first," She continued with an expectant stare.
Fritz handed the twenty-five triads over trying not to wince as he placed them down. She counted them in an instant and swept them into a lockbox that flashed with white runes and closed itself quickly before she put it back beneath the counter. It was almost like a snapping turtle, Fritz mused, feeling somewhat bad for the clerk. He had noticed her slight wince as it clacked closed and the way she idly rubbed her fingers as if remembering some long forgotten pain.
She stepped out from her place behind the counter and walked briskly to the shelf that held the flask, plucking it off its perch. She returned just as quickly handing the Treasure and a small brown paper card to him with a smile.
"Do you know how long it works before needed to be recharged with gold?" Fritz asked idly.
"It's all on the card," She said.
Then at Fritz's waiting gaze, she sighed and said "About a week, or more like nine days."
"Well, thanks," Fritz said and he turned to leave.
"Don't know why you'd ever want a water-producing Treasure in Rain City," She scoffed quietly to herself.
"Less water to carry or search for in the Spire," Fritz said easily.
"Ah, I see. Your planning a Climb then?" She asked politely, seemingly a bit embarrassed he had heard her talking to herself, that and she was covering up her rudeness.
"Indeed, the Mer Spire," Fritz said. "Leading a bunch of leveless through with my friend," He added as if it were some great charity.
"I see," She replied.
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Getting an odd feeling of nervousness and fluttering of desire from the woman, Fritz stared her in the eye. He got the impression that the desire wasn't one of sensual passions but more one that was akin to his own, a craving for freedom and adventure.
It seemed she wanted to ask something, but instead broke the sudden eye contact and glanced at the listening guard. She rapidly turned back to her book, propping it in front of her face and hiding behind its white leather cover.
Fritz leaned on the counter bringing his head closer and asked in a low voice, "Would you like to Climb? I happen to need a sixth member."
A curious eye poked over the book and she whispered back, "Do you have a Guide?"
"No," Fritz said with a sigh. "But you get more of the shares without one," He added
"Doesn't that make it more dangerous though?" She asked hesitantly.
"Maybe. But what is life without a bit of risk and adventure," Fritz proclaimed quietly.
She seemed to think about it for some moments before she sagged a little and said, "I can't. Mother won't let me or give me the gold, says I have to earn it or a husband first."
"If gold's the obstacle, then I can sponsor you. All you'd need is your own gear, have you got that?" he asked conspiratorially.
Her head tilted in a tiny nod.
"Noon, tomorrow, Mer Spire," Fritz stated. "Don't be late," He added with his most dashing smile.
Her head tilted again in what may have been a nod or a shake of the head, he wasn't certain. What he was certain of was the excitement radiating off her shoulders and a slight trembling in her hands.
With that, he gathered his new water flask, slipped the accompanying card into a coat pocket and led his other two recruits away in search of one last thing.
A Seed Refinery.
If he could get the Aberrant Seed refined or even just identify what Abilities or Traits it contained he would feel much more secure in gaining useful Abilities from his Climb. He had only a small worry that the Powers offered in the Mer Spire wouldn't be useful to his current kit but one couldn't be too careful. It was always best to have a backup plan if things went awry, as they so often did.
When he entered he surreptitiously asked the store's clerk what it would cost to have a Seed refined. He was told it was dependent on the Seed. That wasn't much help so he asked for an overview.
To which the clerk replied, "Stop wasting my time."
"Fine, what is the lowest price you require to refine a seed?" Fritz tried one last time.
The clerk sighed.
"For a Minor Aberrant Seed, it could be from anywhere from two hundred gold to six hundred gold, depending on the Abilities, Traits or Strains in question." The clerk explained wearily.
"That much?!" Fritz blurted out.
"The reagents and inscriptions that go into making a refinery run can get expensive," The clerk said as if tired of justifying the cost. "And it's not like the process isn't worth it. A refined seed could run for thousands if not tens of thousands of gold if it's Power is rare, useful or synergistic enough."
Somewhat disappointed that he had no means to refine the Hound's Aberrant Seed, Fritz left the store resigned to hiding the Seed in his safe later. Even though he knew that this was the most likely outcome he couldn't help but feel a little cheated.
Fritz shrugged off his slight setback, he could always refine it after this climb anyway, it wasn't going anywhere. For now the Seed would have to lie uselessly at the bottom of his pack under all that smoked shark.
"Why did you go into the Refinery?" Carter asked. "Got an Aberrant Seed?"
"What? No," Fritz lied. "I wanted to know the current costs involved in case we find an Aberrant Beast in the Mer Spire. I want to be able to correctly judge the merits of hunting such a thing against the reward," He added as a poor explanation.
The pair looked at each other, suspicion etched on their faces. Perhaps he shouldn't have brought these two along for this particular errand. Well, what's done is done.
"My business is finished in the Upper Ring and our preparations are complete," Fritz said. "Let's get something to eat, then a couple of drinks at Tallies."
With the prospect of a free meal, their doubt was buried by hunger and they followed eagerly.
Fritz led the way, back into the desperate district and bought them some fish-kabobs with sour, green sauce. The skinny siblings ate ravenously, so Fritz ordered a second, then a third, helping until the two had eaten their fill. They groaned from the unprecedented discomfort of having a too-full stomach, holding their stomachs and taking steadying breaths to stop from being sick.
Dusksong chimed and Fritz smiled.
He walked into Tallies Trawler; full and craving a mug of beer. He spotted the familiar golden head of Bert and joined him at his table.
Bert looked up from his mug and quickly hid the quartz orb he had been crooning over and cradling to his chest.
"Were you singing to that thing?" Fritz asked incredulously.
"No," Bert lied. "Who's this?" He asked motioning to the two recruits.
"Well I told you about Carter. This is his sister Rosie," Fritz said.
The pair sat when Fritz’s gestured for them to do so then a particularly graceful and familiar waitress approached.
"What can I get for you and your friends, Fritz?" Vee asked, as she lay a hand on, then squeezed, Bert's shoulder.
The two new recruits suddenly went stiff at the mention of Fritz’s name and they stared at him in horror.
"A round of your cheapest beer,"Fritz ordained haughtily.
"Sure thing," Vee said with an eye roll, walking off to retrieve their drinks.
"You're... Fritz…The Fritz?" Carter asked, seemingly mortified.
"Mad Fritz," Rosie added in a hiss.
"The very same, and this is Bert," Fritz said.
With a wide smile that was just on the edge of manic, he added, "Welcome to the crew."
-
After a couple of rounds of drinks, or maybe more, Fritz wasn't counting. The two recruits finally loosened up and had eventually stopped pestering them about how many of the rumours were true. They were swaying happily, tipsily, in their chairs as a man played a lute in the corner and filled the room with a light, floaty tune.
Warmth buzzed in his own chest as Fritz looked around lazily, then let out a yawn, only now realising how tired he was and how late it had gotten without him noticing. It was early night, a couple of hours after dusk if he had to guess. They were having fun and Fritz was finally unwinding but they had a big day ahead of them in the morning.
"We better get a move on, can't drink all night before the Climb tomorrow. Wouldn't do to be hung over," Fritz said, trying to be the voice of reason.
Carter nodded dumbly and blinked stupidly while Rosie turned her head slowly to look at him with wide, drunk eyes.
"Come on, we're going back to my hideout, we can sleep there tonight," Fritz ordered.
Having already spent more than a gold on each of them today he wasn't going to let them out of his sight, lest they cut and run. He didn't think they would as they still seemed excited at the opportunity and were revelling in the great luxuries of free food and beer. But Fritz reasoned that you could never be too careful.
"Ssure, thingg. Lovell-ey handsome man... whatever you ssay," Rosie hiccuped, her face as flush as her thoughts.
They stood and followed, but Bert stayed behind saying he'd meet them at noon tomorrow.
Fritz nodded, trusting his friend to be there.
It didn't take much time before the three of them were laying out bedrolls in the herbalist's attic, then lying down to sleep. Fritz had been a little worried Rosie would make some kind of fuss but she was out like a mana lamp within moments. As was Carter as he lay beside her.
They snored, but it was nowhere near the level of Bert's raucous sleep ravings.
Fritz drifted off. And hazy nightmares soon followed.
-
He awoke to the morning’s burbling skulg-cries and some whispering, which wasn't a terrible way to wake but it was somewhat worrying. Fritz tried to make out what was being said and found he could hear the two rather clearly, once his head had cleared somewhat.
"So you're saying we should still Climb, even though it's that Fritz and Bert," Rosie said softly. "The completely mad ones."
"Yes, a Spire’s too good to pass up. And he's only been fair, if not more than fair to me since I've met him," Carter said quietly.
"I dunno seems like some kind of scheme, what if they want to use us as bait or something?" Rosie argued.
"Then we're bait. Got any better prospects?" Carter said.
"No," Rosie begrudgingly admitted.
"Then we're in it?" Carter asked. "Together?"
"Together," Rosie agreed.
Fritz could see them quickly hug from where he lay, then he yawned and reached for his new water flask. He was mighty thirsty and his throat was as dry as a rain-shielded carriage.
He drank down a few mouthfuls of the slightly-sweet, wonderfully-quenching water and pretended to just notice the two sitting up and looking at him.
"Morning, crew," Fritz said with a wave.
"Morning, Sir," Carter said quickly.
"Just call me Fritz, both of you," Fritz said.
"Morning, Fritz," Rosie ventured.
He smiled at the two then stood. He had Quicksilver and his third recruit to talk to if he hadn't already left.
"Come, pack up, get your gear on then let's get breakfast. Then I must go receive my trusty blade from the smithy," Fritz commanded.
Without another word, they did so. Fritz stored his fine clothing away and put on his mottled, black-green leathers. He made sure he was fully equipped and left nothing of use behind, as he wasn't coming back for about a week, or maybe two.
They travelled the barely lit streets with only an average pelting of rain falling to greet their still bleary faces.
-
It didn't take long to get to the smithy and Fritz caught George, the apprentice, still manning the counter.
He smiled and the man smiled back with a glint of eager apprehension in his yellow eyes.
"I've come for Quicksilver, is she ready?" Fritz proclaimed.
"My fath-er-master, finished it up last night, but he'll want to show off his work," George said then turned and yelled into the forge. "He's here!"
"Who's here?!" Bruce shouted.
"Sir Quicksilver!" George shouted back.
"One moment!" Bruce boomed.
It took him three moments at least, but Bruce stomped out from the forge. He was all thuds and grins, like some proud smiling bull. Then the muscle-wide man presented Fritz with Quicksilver in a long, black-leather scabbard.
Fritz took his time to look over the new, wondrously gleaming hilt and hand guard. Its silver lustre caught the flickering light of the forge flames through the open door, like embers glinting beneath the polished surface of a mirror. Both the guard and pommel were elegant in design, sleek with flowing lines, and connected by six thick strands of graceful sliver curved to cover the wielder's hand. Lending protection from errant strikes or the dripping of tainted blood.
The grip was wrapped in black leather, but underneath he could feel the smoothness of the metal cast over the jagged core that served as its tang. It was everything he hoped for and more.
"It's wonderful," He said mostly to himself and felt his vision get a little blurry.
"Aye, it is," Bruce agreed. "But you should draw it and give it a swing to see if it's to your liking."
Fritz did so, freeing the jagged blade of its sheath with a dull ring.
It was heavy and felt as solid and sharp as ever as he cut the air then lunged forward, impaling the wind.
Even with the added weight it was far more comfortable to swing. He no longer had to worry about tearing his palm to pieces as he swung and stabbed and could neatly turn, cleanly control, the long jagged edge without risk or ruin.
It was sublime.
Unconsciously he had gone into the fencing form his father had drilled into him. The quick flourishes, cuts and flicks came easier, faster and more perfect than ever. He wasn’t that perfect however, his strikes were slower to change direction than he’d like and while his accuracy was good the blade tended to lead him around. It was nothing to do with the sword, he reasoned. It was due to his inadequate strength.
That and he lacked practise.
They can both be remedied in the Spire, He consoled himself.
"At least you listened to your sword tutor, that's quite good technique you've got," Bruce said appreciably.
George looked on with small awe and some envy.
Fritz ceased testing Quicksilver and wiped away a stray tear. "It's perfect," Fritz proclaimed. "Thank you."
"It's not perfect, but I appreciate the sentiment. There was only so much I could do with the blade itself. I tried to hone the edge some, but it's too dense to alter with what I'm working with," Bruce said with some disappointment.
"Sill, it's marvellous work," Fritz stated with a delighted smile. "Beware Spires! Quicksilver comes!" He added with one last slice before going to sheath the blade.
As he did he noticed that the scabbard's lip was also made of moonsilver that ran down in two lines inside the wood lining of the sheath.
He raised an eyebrow at the smith who said, "Ah, noticed that, did you? Good eye. Well, your blade's edge was sawing apart the wood and causing the whole scabbard to fall apart."
"So I set some of the moonsilver within to prevent that. It's also actually one of the suggested uses for the purifying metal, as it keeps edges clean and prevents rust," Bruce continued proudly.
"Wonderful," Fritz said. And he meant it.
He belted the black scabbard at his waist and adjusted to the new weight on his hip. It felt...Right. Like he had recaptured something he thought was lost. A bright, new patch on a torn blanket.
"That doesn't mean you should neglect your blade though," Bruce warned. "Proper maintenance is key to survival."
"True as the rain," Fritz agreed, having read something of the sort in 'The Observations'.
"True as the rain," Bruce repeated loudly and before Fritz could speak up he added, "Your other order should be done in a week or two. I must say I like working with a new metal, really beats out the drudgery of rainsteel-this and black-iron-that."
Fritz smiled patiently as the man complained then made his farewells, insisting he had last-minute preparations to make, which he did. But he didn’t leave before acquiring some iron throwing-daggers and a dark cloth belt-like holster for them. Which Bruce had given to him for free when he had asked about them. Probably to keep Fritz as a loyal customer, but it might just because the smith was in a good mood.
"Alright," Bruce said. "Don't be a stranger and bring me some new metals hey?"
Fritz nodded and Bruce returned to his forge, whistling tunelessly. Must be in a good mood.
With a sly smile from George and whisper of, "See you at noon," Which he returned in kind, Fritz was off.
Now just a couple more things and they’d be ready.
Ready for anything.