After the events of that evening, Raksha decided not to take any more chances with the local delvers. He finished the food as fast as possible and retreated up to his room. Thankfully, none tried to acost him on the way out, Ershwal’s presence leaving a lasting image. The spearwoman gave him a knowing smirk as he passed her, but he ignored her. He felt like the enitre bar watched him go.
Back in his room he bolted the door and tried to drag the dresser in front of it for an extra measure. He didn’t think anything would actually happen, but a little extra protection would provide him some comfort. The dresser didn’t budge though and on further inspection he saw that it was bolted to the floor.
Raksha just thought about leaving it be, but in the end his own sense of unease won him over. Bottom line was, he just didn’t feel safe.
Pulling out his journal again he flipped open to a blank page in the back and carefully ripped one out. Placing it on the top of the dresser, he also pulled out an odd shaped pen and one of the lesser beast cores from earlier. Using the flat chisel on the top of the pen, he chipped a few pieces off the edge of the core. Stowing the rest of the core away, he ground up the bits of core into a powder. Spitting into the powder, he then rolled the moist ball up and opened a small canister on the side of the pen and inserted the mud ball.
He closed the lid with a snap and shook it. It lit up once in blue and he opened the lid once more and inspected the contents. Satisfied, he closed it again and put the pen to paper.
With a steady hand, he drew slowly on the paper, the glowing blue ink drying almost instantly into a bold black. He drew several lines with dots intersecting the different sections, adding circles and other geometric shapes in appointed places.
After a few minutes, a deceptively simple drawing of shapes was completed and Raksha sniffed in satisfaction. Shaking the pen one more time, he slipped it back into a small pocket on the inside of his clothes.
He lifted up the newly created talisman, looking for any faults. It was easy to make mistakes, especially with the sub-par equipment. Finding none, he placed it onto the door, holding it there with his palm. A brief flash of blue light later, where the runes lit up blue as well, he took his hand away, the talisman sticking to the door on its own.
It was the general consensus in the enchanting community across the empire that a talisman was a poor man’s quick and dirty enchanting. Talismans had far weaker effects and, unlike enchantments, talismans were temporary things, burning themselves away after use. But to Raksha, what was given up in permanence it more than made up for in flexibility, a skilled crafter able to make one within minutes with simple resources around them as well as requireing very little mana to make. For Raksha, it was a powerful tool.
For now, the talisman would keep the door sealed for the night, or at least alert him if broken, allowing him a sense of peace.
Now done, he took the time to take off his armor pieces, shaking his arms at the freedom. Dousing the lamp, he clamored into bed, hoping the next day would be a peaceful one for once.
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Ershwal stood impatiently inside the blacksmith’s lobby in the early morning, finger tapping a discordant rhythm on the counter, hoping the annoying beat would get the attention of the receptionist behind it. It didn’t appear to be working, the man casually ignoring her as he went about his duties. Ershwal knew it wasn’t fair to the man, her impatience was directed to the idiot blacksmith working on her blades in the back. But the man was cute and had refused all of her advances in the past, so she was doing her best to get him to react.
Over the last several years, the man had been aggravatingly composed. The man was still single and already in his early twenties, he should find a woman already, before it's too late! Ershwal was thirty three, and while in the prime of her delving career, she knew she couldn’t do it forever. Nor did she really want to. She had her own house now, in one of the nicer districts and had a nice nest egg sitting in the guild bank.
Now she just needed a man to share it with….
In her youth, her relationships with men went no further than the pretty young men at the brothels in town. There the business was simple, money went into their hands, and they gave her the release she wanted. The pretty young men fawned over her and stroked her ego, and it was always a fun and pleasant experience.
As long as she had the money to pay for it, their affections lasted just as long as the bells tolled.
She found since then that trying to court real men not paid to touch her had been one failure after another. It seems she was not as desirable as she had been made to believe.
She was tempted to go back and visit the brothels again, to feel wanted and appreciated that way, but she had been finding it harder and harder to stomach these days.
With an unsatisfied scowl, she stopped tapping on the counter and tried to think of new ways to get the man’s attention.
Interrupting her thoughts, the blacksmith returned holding three of her knives. Already sweaty and sooted, the blacksmith looked pleased with her work, placing down the newly sharpened knives on the table.
Ershwal gave one last glance to the receptionist, even as he moved on into the back with the sales journal in hand.
“You could actually try talking to him.” The blacksmith stated after the man disappeared, leaning towards her on the counter.
“What? Who?” Ershwal replied, confused.
Rolling her eyes, the blacksmith continued, “You know who, Relly. You just stand there staring at him, covered in all the pointy knives. You make the man nervous.”
“I don’t stare at him,” Ershwal denied, sounding stupid, even to herself.
The blacksmith just snorted.
“Err, how am I supposed to just talk with him?” She added with a sigh, “He’s never shown any interest in speaking outside of professional matters.”
“So? Relly’s a good lad, but he’s not the type to start conversations or be like some of the lads out there who beg for attention from women. That doesn’t mean he’s not interested though, you gotta actually talk with him if you want to get anywhere. If you keep waiting for him to react to you, nothing will ever happen. He’s not a fish you can bait in.”
Ershwal scowled. “I don’t need your relationship advice, old woman,” she replied stubbornly, while filing away her words for later review. “Just tell me my pretties are all taken care of.”
With another snort, the blacksmith unwrapped the three knives, looking as shiny and dangerous as ever before.
Ershwal knew how to take care of her own knives, cleaning and maintaining them. But even the best delver knew that sometimes, professional hands were what was needed to keep them true.
Especially these three babies. While not considered properly enchanted items, they were specially crafted to amplify and enhance spells. They had cost her an arm and a leg to have them commissioned and shipped from the capital a few years back. The security cost of transporting unbound mana blades alone was discouraging, but, where are they ever so worth it.
Even with the expense of the items, not many people would be able to wield it, combining spell work and blades together was a tough skill to learn, but one she took special pride in. It is what made her one of the best delvers in all of Delnin.
Ershwal picked up each of her boys and placed them gently into their sheaths on her body.
“Heading back into the dungeon soon, then? You lazy bums have been resting for a few weeks now.”
“You try spending a month on the fourth level,” Ershwal scoffed, “Then you’ll realize that a few weeks isn’t near enough time.” The blacksmith just grinned at her. “Actually, I got an interesting letter from Priestess Olady yesterday. She said there was a new delver in town she wanted to recommend for our group. She knew we were searching for an additional member before the new floors in the dungeon are opened up and she thought this delver would be a good fit. Apparently, she even delved the first floor with the newbie.”
“Priestess Olady, huh?” The blacksmith replied, rubbing her chin and leaving ash trails on it. “She must be good then.”
“That’s just it,” Ershwal replied with exasperation, “She is a he. And he is an ex-slave corps.”
“You can’t be serious.”
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“Serious as the sun! I have no idea what the Priestess is thinking, a charity case or what. She should know better than to throw somebody like that at us.”
“How does a man even delve? Fuck all the monsters until they die from exhaustion? This man must be a real incubus, what does he look like?”
Remembering Raksha’s eyes from last time, the blacksmith’s comments left a sour taste in Ershwal’s mouth. “Tall and muscular, not what you’d expect from a whore. Well, he claims to have a method of dealing with the monsters normally and never whore’d in his life. He also spent five years in the imperial army apparently. The priestess claims he knows his stuff, is skilled and talented and would be an asset to any team. She wanted him to join ours.”
“Hmmm,” the blacksmith thought, looking positively bemused. “So, you’ve met him then? Does he even have a delver’s badge?”
“Last night, at The Day’s Rest. And yes, he’s got the damned badge, a group of ladies were harassing him and trading the badge back and forth. I stepped in and put a stop to it.”
“How gallant of you,” the blacksmith replied dryly, “I’m surprised he didn’t bed you last night in appreciation.”
“How do you know he didn’t?” Ershwal countered.
“Because you were a grumpy ass when you walked in here this morning, like you always are.”
Ouch. it really had been a long time since she had gotten any action. That said, Raksha hadn’t seemed very pleased when she rescued him. She supposed he just wasn’t the grateful sort.
“Well, I double checked with the guild, and confirmed what he said was true. The guy somehow got himself citizenship while in the army, no idea what he did to deserve that. It would take more than sleeping with a general to get that, I’d think.”
“So what? You believe the guy then?”
“I don’t know what to think, girl. He's a freaking guy! In the delver’s guild! I can’t, for the life of me, think of what he could possibly have or do to stay alive in the dungeons. No magic! It's absolutely bonkers! But, the look of him, the way he carried himself. The way he spoke. My gut was telling me he was dangerous. I upset him and the way he tensed up frightened me for a second.”
Ershwal thought for a moment and then added, “The guy’s built like an ox. Without any magic, the man was easily stronger than me. That’s not the body of a whore, it’s a body of a warrior.”
“A magic-free warrior.” When Ershwal didn’t respond the blacksmith added, “You’re no picture of pure strength anyway. What are you going to do?”
“God knows I owe Priestess Olady this favor.” Ershwal responded easily. “Even if we get laughed out of the guild hall, I’d still like to take the man on a trial run with the group. If nothing else, I’d like to see where the man get’s the tits to say what he says. And if by some miracle he’s for real?” She shrugged, “then all’s good.”
“You should bring him around here sometime!” the blacksmith replied, looking excited, “Tell him I'll sharpen one of his blades for a discount or something. I want to check him out, see what the fuss is all about.”
“Hell no, you’ll just scare him away.”
“Oh please, do you want him or do you not want him, make up your mind.”
Ershwal paused, surprised. Thinking about it, she realized she actually did want it to work out, despite everything. “Huh.” she voiced, looking down at the floor.
The blacksmith shook her head, “get outta here already. I’ve got a shitload of work in need to get done today, I don’t have time to stand and gossip with you.”
Taking the cue and flipping the stout woman the bird, Ershwal exited the shop, taking a deep breath of the fresh morning air. She heard the blacksmith shout out, “I was serious, bring him in here when you can!” but she ignored it.
Last night she had sent a message to all her party members, telling them that the break was over and they needed to meet up today at noon at the guild hall. She knew a few of them would be upset that their freetime was cut a little short, but, honestly, experience told her that longer breaks just made it harder to get back into the swing of things.
She returned to The Day’s Rest and asked around for the slave man. Everybody knew who he was at this point, tall blond ex-slave men walking around with a sword at his hip was not a sight any were likely to forget. She was told he had come down for breakfast, but had returned to his room soon after.
Excellent, she hoped she didn’t have to track the man down. She got herself a quick breakfast as well, paying a copper for the sparse meal, got the man’s room number and headed up the stairs.
Finding the room, she knocked loudly and waited for the man to appear. He did a second later, wearing, once again, the full set of armor he apparently never took off. He gave her an odd look but didn’t say anything.
“Good morning? Can I come in and talk?”
Belatedly realizing asking to come into a single man’s room was probably not the best option, but she stuck to it and kept up her professional stare. She was proud of her professional stare, it was something she had practiced a lot to get down correctly.
The man didn't answer right away, but looked her over, his eyes lingering on all the knives on her body. What did the man want, for her to disarm herself completely? It would take minutes to just unsheath everything. And where would she put them, just leaving them in the hallway for somebody to pick up? That’s crazy.
Keeping her professional stare up, she just waited for a response. Eventually the man just sighed and opened the door the rest of the way, walking over to the only chair in the room, sitting down with legs and arms crossed. Internally, Ershwal let out a sigh of relief, wondering what she would have done if the man had simply said no. Press the issue? What was she, somebody who bullied men into submission?
Suddenly feeling incredibly awkward as she stepped into the room, Ershwal did her best to keep the professional stare up and running less her uncertainty show on her face. She was at a loss for words staring down the man who gazed back at her, positively radiating hostility. Seconds passed by as she felt a growing panic set into her. Damn all men and their unfathomable natures!
Then, a brilliant idea hit her like a BrickBull.
“I am sorry for what I said last night,” Ershwal said as evenly as possible. “It was wrong of me to assume and insinuate what I did about you, and I apologize.”
After a second, she saw the man’s face soften and she gave herself a pack on the back for her engenuity.
She waited for the man to respond, but when he did it was after a few more awkward seconds. And what he said surprised her.
“You didn’t have those three knives on you last night,” he stated, pointing at her boys on her side.
“Err, yeah. They were getting worked on at the Smoking Pit, one of the local blacksmiths. She does the best work in town, and nothing but the best for my babies!”
“Nice, mana blades, am I right? Can I see one?”
Say what? How could he tell? She felt her professional stare slipping, but didn’t see the harm in pandering a little to the guy. With a, literally, practiced flip, she handed the blade over to Raksha with a flourish, handle first.
The guy took it with care, studying the handle and shaft with interest. “This is well crafted, a commission from the capital? Feels like it must be Vericke make, or maybe possibly Drelnil.”
“Err, yeah, it's Vericke.” Ershwal replied, horribly confused. She hadn’t even heard of the different enchanter shops in the capital until she had started researching for the blades. As far as she knew, nobody in Delnin recognized the makers.
Still holding onto the knife, Raksha reached over to his dresser and pulled over a notepad and pen. Flipping open to a fresh page he started to write, but paused, looking over at her, and asked a little sheepishly, “Do you mind if I take some notes on it?”
Dumbfounded, she just replied. “I guess not.'' At her words, the man started writing in careful penmanship, keeping the blade aloft in his left hand.
“So uh, you can read and write obviously.” She stated, still feeling a little unreal. At the man’s nodding she continued, “I mean I can too, but the rest of my squad can’t, they don’t see the point and never bothered, so they leave it all to me, those bastards.” she realized she was rambling and shut up. Was she so off kilter she couldn’t even think straight?
She stood there for a few more moments, before finally asking the question bugging her, “What exactly are you writing down?”
“It's a hobby of mine,” the man replied easily. “This is excellent craftsmanship, the best I’ve seen out here. You must have paid a small fortune for three of these.”
A feeling of pride took over her and she puffed out her chest a little. “Eh, it was nothing, these boys are more than worth it.”
“Of course,” Raksha replied with a smile. He looked so much nicer when he wasn’t scowling at everybody and everything. “I‘m noting down the inscriptions on here. Of course, Vericke work won’t make anything they draw obvious, but I find if you-” the knife flared up in green for a split second “- fire it up, the runes can become visible. Ah, I see you use primarily slashing spells through this, as well as some stabbing ones. Have you ever tried running a stunning spell through it? I find that those can be particularly effective, especially when you are working with a group. I am sure you know this already, but getting into physical contact with a monster will make the stun spell twice as effective, meaning your group could lay on a ton of extra damage while the target is immobile, much more than a spell even as powerful as eviscerating strike could do.”
Poor Ershwal’s brain couldn’t keep up with the deluge of information coming at her. “How could you- what did you- what do you- How… how?” her words failed her as she beheld Raksha’s knowing smirk.
“How did you activate Rynoldes!” she finally shouted, accidently giving away her pet name for the blade. “he’s freaking mana bound to me!”
“Easy,” Raksha replied with his insufferable smirk and flashing the blade again. “You just need to use neutral mana.”
“Neutral mana?” she repeated incredulously. She had never heard of such a thing.
“Yeah, the binding process works by syncing the blade to your personal mana signature, this makes it so anybody else’s mana signature cannot be interpreted by the blade. But if you use mana with no signature at all it's easy to bypass it.”
Ershwal didn’t know what to say. She didn’t even know where to start her next question. She just stood there dumbly until Raksha finished whatever he was writing down and returned the blade to her. She didn’t even blink when he said, “Thanks for the looksy. Renoldes is a very nice blade, it's clear you take very good care of him.” After seeing Ershwal’s continued blank stare he added, “I can teach you how to use neutral mana, but it will take a while, like any skill. It's not something you can learn overnight.”
At last, that sentence broke her out of her fugue. “How can you use mana? You can do spells?”
Raksha replied with a sigh, “sadly no, I cannot perform any spells. But as for using mana, yes, it just took lots of time and effort, like any mana skill, as I am sure you are aware. How long did it take for you to learn eviscerating strike?”
Years, actually, it was one of her most powerful spells, and when linked with her blade, it was the single most damaging move her party could generate. It was the skill she was most proud of and although the man’s words from earlier about a stun made lots of sense, it hurt her to think about it. If a simple stun spell could do all of that, what was the point of all her years of effort?!
She didn’t answer the question. “The Ravenous Maw is meeting up for lunch today in the guild hall to start planning our next delve. If you are still willing, please join us. I'll be pushing for your provisional membership and for a quick delve with the group in the first level to test your skills, but, ultimately, adding new members is a group vote. I’d appreciate it if you joined us.”
Looking up at her, the bizarre man eventually nodded. “Your apology goes a long way, I’m interested in meeting the rest of the team. I would really appreciate it, though, if we can make it through the meeting without me getting called a whore in every other sentence. Do you understand?”
Ershwal chuckled awkwardly. “Right, I'll let them know I won’t tolerate it.”
With a nod, Raksha returned his attention to the journal and Ershwal stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind her.
She made her way downstairs and peaked out the closest window available, leaning over an annoyed woman in the process. She just needed to make sure the sun was still in the sky.