Vesper thought a little harder, and realized he hadn’t considered all of his skills. He’d thought about [unremarkable] but dismissed that quickly after realizing it didn’t really hide him. It just made Vesper boring. Some of Vesper’s old orphan friends would argue that Vesper’s personality was already exceptionally boring and that this skill was pointless. They did have a point, depending on who you asked.
[Shelve Book] could be dangerous, Vesper realized. He remembered the flying book that nearly took off his head as Fartmor had cast [Retrieve].
He analyzed the skills information, as the knowledge of the skill was innately brought to the forefront of his mind.
[Shelve Book] - Shelve Book allows the user to fling a book into its allotted place on a bookshelf after it was placed and ordered correctly. The object must be a book, and it must have a snug, nice-fitting bookshelf to call its home.
The knowledge just wasn’t enough. What was a book, really? Could a book be a giant rock with letters carved into it? Could a book be one of those fancy cannonballs that Siora was talking so fondly about? Vesper was caught daydreaming about what exactly made a book.
“Vesper, stop staring. It’s rude to stare, especially at a princess such as myself,” admonished Siora.
“Sorry, I was thinking. I might have some idea on how I can be useful.”
“Well, spit it out. We don’t have all day. I want to go shopping for some appropriate and stylish elven outdoor clothes,” said Siora.
Sometimes Vesper forgot she was a princess until she’d say something like that.
“What is a book?” asked Vesper.
“Are you dumb? You’re a [Bookworm] who doesn’t know what a book is?”
“You’re right. I don’t know what a book is, well, not specifically. I know what a book is when I see one, but where are the boundaries of what can be considered a book?”
“Are you sure you’re not infected with mind rot? That drivel coming out of your mouth sounds like philosophy. God, I hate those pretentious pricks,” complained Siora.
“Well, I can shelve books with [shelve book]. It works with heavier books. I’m wondering just how heavy a book I can shelve.”
“The Wyvern isn’t going to have a library.”
“But if I build a bookshelf and fling it to the other side of the Wyvern, then the book might just fly into the Wyvern.”
Siora paused. “It could work,” she said. “Maybe take Grunkor and go test it out or something.”
“You don’t want to come?”
“I want to go shopping for clothes. No, I don’t want to come.”
“Suit yourself,” said Vesper. He shrugged. The meeting was concluded, so Vesper and Grunkor left to test out what exactly was a book and what wasn’t. Being frugal, Vesper and Grunkor decided to test what they had first and avoid going to the market quite yet.
After Vesper was unable to lift a silver coin, and Grunkor pointed out how constipated Vesper looked, both Vesper and Grunkor realized that they’d have to try a little harder if they were going to make this work. And by trying a little harder, Vesper and Grunkor found themselves at the market. Not the fancy princess-approved market that Siora would shop at, but a market nonetheless.
Both Grunkor and Vesper stood outside of a dubious-looking store with the name The One-Eyed Appraiser. An appraiser needed excellent eyesight to spot an item’s worth, so it stood to reason that a one-eyed appraiser might not have the most accurate prices. This meant that a one-eyed appraiser just might have some good deals. That was the logic Vesper used to convince Grunkor that this was the shop to shop at.
Grunkor knew many goblins with one eye that were very shrewd. Goblin eyes were often poked or gnawed out of their socket because goblins were fragile. From Grunkor’s run-in with one-eyed Goblins, Grunkor concluded that having one eye lets someone focus better since they didn’t have to multi-task by managing two eyes. Grunkor also figured that humans might be different, so he followed Vesper into the store.
Junk. Piles and piles of junk were scattered haphazardly like a jungle of unwanted rusted debris. Wooden crates failed to corral the poorly maintained stuff as it was scattered on the floor. Vesper almost cut himself on some rusted metal as he tiptoed to the shop’s counter. On the counter sat more piles of junk.
The shopkeeper’s bald head down to his scruffy brown mustache peaked out from the mountain of stuff. He had one blue eye and a brown eye. As Vesper looked closer, he noticed that the brown eye was made of glass and was a bit crooked, like the shopkeeper was always looking to the right.
“Ahh, a pair of customers. What brings you to my fine shop?” asked the human shopkeeper.
“We’re looking to make a book,” stated Vesper.
The shopkeeper furrowed his brow.
“A book? Surely there are better shops suited for making a book. I don’t even sell paper or leather.” The shopkeeper paused. “Well, I might have a little leather, but not really book-making leather. It’s the crusty stuff that does bend that well.”
“Look. I get that it might seem a little weird that we came to you, but we’re innovators,” said Vesper. Grunkor nodded and stood up straight.
“How so?”
“Well, we think that books could use an upgrade. First off, books aren’t nearly heavy enough. Who wants a light book? No one, that’s who.”
“Well, a heavy book might be hard to carry. That’s why books are typically so light.”
“Well, I agree to disagree. I was thinking a book made from blocks of stone encased in metal would be ideal.”
“Not to be a critic, but that doesn’t sound terribly practical.”
“Could you do it?”
“How many pages, err, stones does the book need to have?”
“Two thick ones should do it. Make sure they’re extra heavy.”
“Extra heavy? Like heavier than a typical book or like actually hard to carry heavy?”
“The second option.”
The shopkeeper scowled. “How are you planning on writing a book’s worth of writing on two slabs of stone? This book doesn’t sound too practical or like a particularly good book.”
“What do you know about books?” Vesper asked.
“Not much,” the shopkeeper admitted. “But I’ve seen a book or two, and what you’re describing sounds an awful lot more like an anchor than a book. Not trying to get past the King’s laws on anchor taxes, are you?” The shopkeeper narrowed his eyes as if he’d figured out what was so strange about the request.
“No, that’s not what-” Vesper clamped his mouth shut as Grunkor kicked Vesper’s leg. They’d agreed it wouldn’t be good going around blabbing about what they needed the book for. It would bring too many questions and unwanted attention.
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The shopkeeper looked both ways, making sure no one was eavesdropping. “I can make what you’re looking for. Big stones with a solid iron casing, I’ll even throw in some of that crunchy leather to make it look more authentic. Honestly, the King’s taxes on anchors are ridiculous.”
“Yes. Yes, they are,” said Vesper. He knew nothing about anchors or anchor tax.
The shopkeeper disappeared into the back of the shop. Ding! Clang! Bzzzpp! All sorts of strange noises came somewhere inside the jungle of junk. Vesper and Grunkor waited awkwardly.
Vesper didn’t know how much time passed, but eventually the shopkeeper returned, dragging a large ‘book’, which was the size of three extensive dictionaries stacked on top of each other.
“I call her Bertha,” said the shopkeeper.
“Does, umm, Bertha have any writing on the inside of her?” asked Vesper.
“Ah, the King’s tax inquisition must be pretty strict if they’re going to look that closely. I’m not surprised in the slightest after how far this country has fallen. I remember a time when humans were prized and those damn elves, dwarves, and goblins didn’t invade our land” The shopkeeper noticed Grunkor. No, offense, tiny goblin.”
Grunkor just shook his head in disapproval. Humans were so closed-minded.
“Seems like every day we stray further from Ulgathar the Devourer’s wise teachings. Soon we’ll be listening to angels or little Fae slaves. Can you imagine being associated with a Fae?”
“I can’t,” Vesper lied. The more he waited, the more he regretted talking to this shopkeeper.
“Well, It’ll come out to two silver. What do you want written on the pages? I reckon we can squeeze about four words onto the stone with my expertise in engraving.”
Grunkor and Vesper looked at each other. Would four words really be enough?
“Go bash head in,” said Vesper.
Grunkor nodded. It was to the point and almost poetic. Who was Grunkor kidding? It wasn’t poetic in the slightest. The damn book should’ve read Your fault, should’ve dodged. Now that was poetic! But Grunkor wasn’t the one paying, so he kept his mouth shut.
Another long period of awkwardly standing ended when the shopkeeper returned and handed over Bertha for two silver. Vesper wobbled as he gripped onto the heavy book, but his Strength of the Fae was enough to make carrying the ‘book’ easy enough.
Vesper got particurly angry glares as he stumbled through the city streets towards the adventurers guild. His back ached a little bit as he pushed his way through the line and into the Guild. Vesper followed Grunkor into the courtyard area.
Vesper let out a sigh of relief as he dropped the ‘book’ onto the dirt. It sank into the soft soil, leaving an impression. Jeffrey would be a little angry when he eventually saw the misshapened soil. That was future Vesper’s problem, thought Vesper.
Three ragged training dummies sat across from Vesper. Vesper picked the shorter one because it reminded him of Grunkor a little bit. Vesper wasn’t malicious, but he figured he could use the practice if it ever came down to self-defense. Maybe Grunkor was an expert fighter for all he knew.
“[Shelve Book]!” shouted Vesper. Nothing happened. The book that wasn’t really a book didn’t budge as it stubbornly sat in the soil, unmoving. [Shelve Book] Vesper repeated, this time trying to imagine that the hunk of metal and stone was, in fact, a book. It was wishful thinking to think that the laws that governed the world were fueled by hopeful thoughts. They weren’t and the stone cosplaying as a book still didn’t move.
“What am I doing wrong?” Vesper mumbled, more to himself than to Grunkor.
“Where is the bookshelf for books?” Grunkor suggested as if it was obvious. And to Grunkor, it was obvious because, unlike Vesper, he wasn’t an idiot. He was a refined goblin.
“Yes! You’re right, Grunkor. I forgot about the bookshelf.”
Vesper paused. How was he going to simultaneously make a bookshelf large enough to fit his book and small enough where he could throw it? It was a tricky question. How would he make a bookshelf that landed in a way where the book could fly onto it?
A plank of wood was taken from the pile of lumber used by the Guild’s construction team to fix accidents caused by unruly adventurers. It just so happened that the most recent incident was caused by Grog and Vesper’s scuffle.
Vesper carefully placed the long plank behind the target dummy, setting the ‘book’ that wasn’t actually a book on it before picking the supposed book back up and carrying the hefty thing to the other side of the garden.
Vesper let in a deep breath. “[Shelve Book]!” he shouted. The heavy book vibrated violently, causing Vesper and Grunkor to back away from it.
Bzzzzt! The angry sound of the book grew louder to an almost deafening pitch. Vesper covered his ears, but it wasn’t enough to block out the excruciating sound. The book hovered. Like lightning, the bundle of stone burst forward incredibly fast.
Splinters flew everywhere as the dummy was obliterated. Grunkor cowered behind Vesper, using him as a disposable meat shield. Vesper covered his face as debris flew into him. Eventually, Vesper looked at the carnage. Pieces and bits of wood and straw were scattered throughout the yard. He was going to be in deep trouble.
If an imprint in the courtyard’s soil would upset Jeffrey, then Vesper couldn’t fathom the amount of pent-up rage that Jeffrey would feel when he saw the torn apart warzone that was his personal guild garden. Chunks of wood stuck out of the soil; hay was everywhere. It was a disaster, but it was also a success.
The power the giant book unleashed was impressive. Of course, even Vesper noticed some of the drawbacks instantly. It was incredibly slow to set up, and the book took ages to store enough energy to send itself zipping through the air. This wouldn’t be as detrimental if the book didn’t loudly hiss and vibrate as if it was seething with rage.
Vesper wondered if Grog’s anger management classes might be able to fix this issue, but it also occurred to him that stones couldn’t read or speak. Then he realized that Grog couldn’t read and barely spoke. And then Vesper realized that vibrating was no replacement for speech, and even a little bit of speech was needed in order to vent.
[Finder of Secrets] has leveled to 6!
Vesper only had four levels until he unlocked his mid-class skill. But leveling for this was what Vesper found truly odd. How was this a secret? That would insinuate that someone in the past had strapped a couple of stones together and called it a book.
Grunkor realized that Vesper had zoned out as he stared at nothing in particular. Grunkor prodded Vesper with his finger, trying to get his attention.
“Uh, sorry about that,” said Vesper, still a bit shocked.
“That was good. No need to be sorry,” said Grunkor.
“I guess it sort of is like a cannon. At least what I’ve heard about cannons.”
Grunkor nodded. He’d also imagined what cannons would be like, and this seemed very close. Although, he concluded that cannons probably had less attitude.
Now they had to figure out a way to throw a bookshelf. Vesper had some ideas. The first of which came from the time he skipped a stone on the river banks just outside the city of Lucridge when he first moved to Lady Erin’s Orphanage. Vesper fondly remembered the smell of newly blooming flowers and hearing the gentle trickle of the nearby creek.
This was completely different from the time at Lothar’s Orphanage, where the older enforcers skipped stones off the backs of workers with already bloody backs that oozed from the many lashes of a whip. Those stones weren’t flat, nor were they good for skipping on water. Vesper tried to purge the moment from his memory.
A bookshelf in the shape of a throwable shield was the answer to the elusive question of how to turn a bookshelf into a semi-viable weapon. Vesper parted ways with Grunkor as he went back to the market. He wished Grunkor a farewell as he watched the tiny goblin crawl into the dark, decrepit city sewer. Who knew what was down there? Vesper was curious but not curious enough to wade through the disgusting rotting liquid held within to find out. The sewer smelled like rotting rats, or at least what Vesper imagined rotting rats smelled like. It was possible that even rottings rats didn’t smell that bad.
The weapons dealers would have what Vesper needed, which was located on the far end of the blacksmith quadrant of the merchant’s district. It was on the opposite side of where the scrap section was located. The more ornate buildings and brighter colored clothes highlighted the difference in wealth. A type of wealth Vesper wasn’t accustomed to. His ragged, dirty brown leather and oversized coat got him glares or stares, or a mix of both, as he stumbled through the street. He stumbled because the book that wasn’t really a book was heavy, and Vesper was clumsy. There was nothing more to it than that.
“Vesper, is that you!?” shouted Siora as she left Melgrom’s Exquisite Stones. A grumpier Siora probably wouldn’t have shouted at Vesper, but there was no better mood than a mood that came after an intense royal shopping extravaganza, especially when Siora, a princess, found a stunning sapphire ring that just complimented her new fancy dress.
Vesper noticed that now he was not only getting glares but scowls as well. It was one thing to walk through the district looking like a poor peasant; it was another thing entirely to greet a princess as a poor-looking peasant. It was beside the point that Siora was 250 some places away from sitting on the throne and unlikely to ever become a ruler. It was still a possibility. Stranger things had happened.
“Yes. I’m looking for a throwable shield, preferably a cheap one.”
“What’s that you’re carrying in your hands?”
“What, you’ve never seen a book before? For someone so cultured, I would have figured you’d have hundreds in your palace, or castle, or wherever princesses live.”
“I’m not one of those spoiled princesses locked up in the King’s palace. Heck, I grew up in a 3 story 80 bedroom Manor. It was hardly anything like the 350 bedroom palace that all my siblings got to live at. Am I a little jealous? Yes. But I just like to think that it makes me down to earth. And, yes, I had three hundred books in my personal library, none of which looked like that monstrosity.”
“Maybe not quite down to Earth enough,” commented Vesper.
“Pardon?” Siora asked.
“Nothing,” Vesper responded.
“Well, anyway. If you’re looking for shields, Inkar’s Shield Emporium is the cheapest place I’d go to.”
“And where is that?”
Siora pointed to the other side of the street. “I’ll show you,” she said.