Chapter 4 - System Sanctioned

The first thing Tal noticed was the floor. No longer was it a slightly damp cobblestone floor but a rather pristine dark oak. Then, a wave of noise hit him as he looked up, cursing himself for his lack of awareness. “Ho-ho who goes there” boomed a voice behind a massive counter. All eyes turned from their tables to briefly look at Tal. Even the violinist's music faltered for a bare moment.

A stout hand appeared before Tal, belonging to a man not much Taller than his hip. The dwarf stood proud, a dark beard intertwined with his hair and various dark, but dull, tattoos snaking around his face. His other hand loosely, almost tenderly, held a bottle of an orangy-brown liquid and if his breath was any indication, it was surely a potent alcohol.

Tal took his hand in a firm grasp, expecting to get his hand crushed by the stocky figure. The Dwarf let out a high pitch squeak. “Are you trying to crush my hand! That’s no way to greet anybody!” Tal’s eyes shot to the ceiling almost as quick as his mouth dropped open. “Give the new guy a break. Let's not scare off the first new customer we’ve had in god knows how long.” yelled the same voice from earlier. The dwarf pouted and trod back to his table.

Tal strode to the bar to meet the man behind the voice. He was once again surprised by what he found. The barkeep stood a tall 6-foot, green and golden eyes faintly reflecting the warm lighting of the room. He was a frail-looking man. All skin and bones and no meat nor muscle. Yet for all that he had a kindly smile and what could only be described as a welcoming nature. “Not often we get fresh blood around here. Where abouts do you hail from, friend”.

Tal wasn't sure how to answer that knowing any name he could provide wouldn’t be recognisable. The barkeep, noting Tal’s hesitation immediately followed up “Ah it's no biggy. You’re one of those mysterious types are ya” he said with a wink. “We get plenty of those…Well, what can I do for ya”.

Tal offered a smile “Thank you…” he waited. “Jordain” the barkeep supplied. “Ah, thank you, Jordain. Your hospitality is a most welcome break from the last few hours. And god knows I’ve needed it. I wouldn't mind something to eat. Maybe some information about where the hell here is and how I can get out”.

“Oh! You’re that new are you. I should have known. You have my apologies” Jordain exclaimed. In that case let me make a proper introduction.” He stood up tall, his chest puffing slightly. My tavern, The Devil's Tounge, is a Tower Sanctioned local nexus. That means that the path here, and to me, is a somewhat frequent option one may take while in the Tower. I provide a needed respite to the many adventurers and my Tavern, a lovely meeting ground for new forces.”

“Sounds like you got it all figured out” Tal joked. “You wouldn't happen to have any rooms available here, would you. Or someone who knows about how binding entities works”.

“Alas, my establishment is not authorized to provide such easy accommodation, yet. But you can earn your stay. Believe it or not, there are tons of requirements and tribulations that must be met to run a business such as this. The Tower does not let just anyone renovate it's backyard after all.” Tal didn't doubt it. “If you want to know about that magic stuff. I’m not your guy. I stepped away from all that when I set up shop here long ago. Though perhaps you could talk to your new friend about it” Jordain said, gesturing a hand and a pointed look towards a nearby table. The same table of the Dwarf he had first met.

Tal thanked the barkeep for his hospitality, promised he would be back and reluctantly trode towards the Dwarf who fully introduced him to himself and the rest of the table. His name was Rocky he laughed, it was apparently a bad dwarf joke. Tal couldn't agree more. His real name, he later informed him, was Hogarth.

There were two others sitting with the dwarf who were both, coincidently, also dwarves. Hogarth made to introduce him. The first was decidedly female. She sat with a slump, eyes downcast over a drink. Every now and then she would look up, her haunted eyes making just enough contact to be polite. She was the polar opposite of Hogarth. The next dwarf wasn't quite so reserved, but what he did say was hard to make out through his slurring. He rocked back in his chair humming to himself and laughing at some unheard joke. Not many drinks later and the whole group was joining him.

It didn't take Tal long to get more than the information he wanted. Performing a Soul Bind in the Tower was facilitated by the System and he didn't have to worry about the details while he was in here. One of many perks of Tower-life. The number of Soul Bindings he could perform, and what he could perform these bindings with, however, was a factor determined by him. A mix of willpower, the strength of his spiritual pathways and something called his Rank.

“The benefits that come with soul-binding creatures and items are numerous and various in nature. But allow me to demonstrate,” the drunk dwarf slurred. He waved his hand and a flagon appeared out of nowhere. He took a swig and passed it to Tal prompting him to do the same. It hit him hard but through his coughing, he saw a screen popup, notifying him of some changes. From there the night took a turn.

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Drunkards Flagon [Rare]

* Intoxication level increased from Tispy to Mildly Inebriated

* Poison resistance temporarily increased by 50%

* Strength temporarily increased by 25%

* Dexterity temporarily reduced by 15%

* Decision making temporarily reduced by 40%

When Tal brought up his past experience with the Imp trying to scam him, it seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary. The female dwarf looked up, citing that the Tower has many hidden dangers and it would be best to keep that in mind. “More than one party of adventurers has fallen prey to the Tower’s machinations” she had said. Clearly, Tal thought, the Tower provided many opportunities to grow in power. A high risk, high reward scenario.

Tal was reminded that a room in the venue did not come for free. And in this Tavern, there were only two ways to make quick cash. Trading with the other patrons, or fighting in The Pit. Unfortunately for Tal, the only items he had for trade were those he wore and selling those was a no-go. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily for him, the drunk dwarf had other plans. Seeming intent on the both of them fighting side by side together in The Pit. He painted it as a grand story. “Consecrating their friendship in the blood of their enemies,” he said laughing raucously. After more than a few drinks Tal was starting to believe that this was a good idea.

***

From there time passed in a blur until suddenly Tal was before The Pit. Which looked exactly like one might think. It was essentially a big hole in the ground with a sealable staircase at either end. The System had gone back to showing his status as ‘Tipsy’ and yet with the drunk dwarf, who Tal had finally worked out was named Doldahr, by his side hyping him up, Tal couldn’t help but feel excited.

Tal looked around noticing quite a large crowd had gathered. When had that happened? He thought. Maybe I’m a little drunker than I feel. That should have bothered him but for some reason, it didn't. The hand of Jordain guided him and Doldahr down the stairs, leading them into the centre of The Pit. Jordain’s voice echoed around the cavern as if he was yelling, yet when Tal looked he was speaking as he normally would. When Doldahr noticed Tal staring he leaned towards him, nudging him in the ribs “Just a simple loudness spell, rookie” he added.

Tal’s vision snapped back to the present as a roar of a now-riled-up crowd assaulted his ears. Looking up, Tal saw the hundreds of looming spectators congested around the top rim of the pit. “And now” Jordain boomed “The best event of the night” there was a little lapse in the announcement as the crowd let of a small wave of laughter “Your favourite, The Drunken Doldahr - And our brave new guest, who is yet to make a name for himself”

If Tal thought the crowd's roar when Jordain mentioned his friend was loud, he was sorely mistaken when Jordain mentioned himself. “Seems they like you” Doldahr chuckled. “Now would be a good time to get your weapon out” Doldahr whispered from beside him. Tal returned him a blank look. “You don’t have one do you…” Tal shook his head. “Gods son, you've got bigger balls than the all-father himself”.

Tal cursed himself. What had he been thinking? The answer was simple, he hadn't been and it was only too easy to pin the blame on his debuffs from earlier. Following that line of thought, his supposed friend had got him into all this mess in the first place. What the hell kind of friend gets you super drunk, then leads you into a pit to fight god knows what. What kind of idiot just goes with it.

Doldahr turned to him then. “No matter, you can have one of mine. I was going to practice using it myself but I’m sure they’ll give us something easy with you in here anyway”. He materialised a thin dark blade out of thin air, a silvery blue streak pulsing with life as it ran up through the middle. He placed it in Tal’s hands who held it away from himself like it was a poisonous snake. “Maybe it's better if you’re the one with the weird sword” Tal murmured. “Don’t be ridiculous, we all have to start somewhere”. Pretty sure literally anywhere is a better place to start learning how to use a sword than here Tal thought.

Sword of Sorrow [Rare]

Forged in the Dwarven mountains of Sakropv in the heat of a dying volcano from an experienced smith. The Smith spent his entire life working to perfect a craft unfit for his purpose. In a final effort to create something of note, the smith worked himself, alone, to exhaustion. This sword obtained the affinity of Sorrow when the Smith saw the final product of his lifetime.

This Sword radiates an aura of sorrow. Wounds inflicted with this sword have a chance to cause the target to hesitate in pity when fighting.

Tal turned to Doldahr who shrugged, "Good for practising my stoicism."

Meanwhile, Jordain was working the crowd, questioning them of what they would like to see go up against the two and declining the other patrons who wanted to go up against them themselves. Soon their threat made itself known. Led down the stairs at the opposite end of the pit was what looked like a giant sabre-tooth tiger, with a ring of spikes running around its neck. Each step, quaking the dirt from the walls.

Oh. Oh shit.