While following Kristina to wherever she was taking him, Darius decided to take up on Amelia’s advice and check his equipment.
“10 more arrows, 4 more paint bombs, 1 firecracker, still have my pack of matchsticks, both my daggers, my compass, and my disguise kit. It’s all here. What about you? Gonna follow your friend’s advice?”
Unlike Darius, Kristina strode ahead without a care in the world. “If I forgot something than I’ll adapt. I always carry a bunch of weapons with me and could pretty much use anything, so what does it matter if I forget one or two?”
“Fair, then maybe you can tell me why all these people are staring, no, glaring at us?”
True to Darius’s words, harsh looks were thrown their way from every direction. Men, women, and even children looked at them with a sense of disgust and foreboding. Darius had become used to this kind of look during his time as a freelancer, but he had not expected the same from the common villagers occupying Horizon. Though among those looks were some of pity or even sadness, such strong emotions from people he has never met before.
“Get used to it while you’re working with me. I already have.”
“Something to do with your special circumstances? I’m well aware that prejudice comes in many forms.” Kristina shifted uncomfortably, making it obvious that he was right and that she didn’t want to talk about it. “Forget it, I don’t need to know. Instead, you can tell me your plan on hunting the griffin. You do have a plan?”
Kristina seemed to take offense to his words, quickly stopping and explaining, “Of course I have a plan! First, we find the griffin, then we beat it up until it runs far enough away from the village for it to not cause any more problems! Its genius in its own simplicity.”
Darius couldn’t tell from her expression whether or not she was being serious, “You know what, let’s just workshop that plan on the way. Though that does bring up another question; how are we going to find it?”
Kristina was about to speak but found that she couldn’t for the moment, “You have any chips on you, Darius?”
“Are you hungry?”
“Currency you dolt!”
Darius complied without any pushback, showing her a purse lightly filled with some gold, silver, and copper coins. “It’s not much, but if you can promise me a place to sleep and some food its yours.”
She took a look inside before slapping her head and groaning loudly, “It’s going to take a bit before I fully come to terms with you being from Journey. What are these made out of?”
“Gold, silver, and copper. What, do you not have that here? What’s your currency made of?”
She took out her own pouch, showing Darius a slightly thicker purse of green, red, and blue marbles.
“These are made of emerald, ruby, and sapphire, their value determined by their receptiveness to wattiez. That being emerald at the top, then ruby, followed by sapphire. Remember my staff? The large ruby it had let even someone like me use wattiez, at least until you shattered it.”
“To be fair, I had no idea what I was doing. Did it cost a lot?”
“About 10 emeralds chips.”
“Is that a lot?”
“One or two sapphire chips is enough to buy a loaf of bread, a ruby is worth five times a sapphire chip, and an emerald is worth two times that. A nymph, goes at least 10 emeralds; particularly good ones cost about 20.”
“I don’t know what a nymph is, but a loaf of bread in Journey is also about a copper piece. Putting aside exchange rates, why do need the chips? Something to help us find the griffin?”
“Shouldn’t be too far from here… there it is.”
Just outside the village was a lone hut, made of straw and dirt, the person inside obviously didn’t care too much for visitors. Darius already realized that there was something off with Horizon, at least with its architecture. Everything felt older… no, just more… natural?
“This here is this village scribe’s house. I’ve heard he can be a bit abrasive, but as long as we have the chips, we should be fine.”
“Someone with a love for money, that I understand. What does he do?”
“A scribe holds the ability to categorize and locate a person’s wattiez using their synthesis. When you use your wattiez, typically some residue of its use is left over leaving a sort of trail. For a creature like the griffin, who perpetually use Augmentation Wattiez, a scribe can use a piece of it to give us a lead on its trail.”
“Synthesis?”
“Ask Amelia when you see her again. Might actually be a good way to start a conversation with her. Amelia developed hers when she was only 14, so she’s real proud of it.”
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“Fair, but what about The Scribe’s price? I’d imagine such a convenient service doesn’t come cheap.”
“Don’t know, never needed to ask for his help. Not that he has a set service fee; rumors have it that his prices vary greatly, from just a couple of sapphires to a ton of emeralds. Though most of the time he just outright refuses to see anyone. Most people believe that he’s actually a scammer, with our lack of options, we’ll just have to risk it.”
“Can’t vouch for this guy’s abilities, then? Instead of wasting time here, shouldn’t we just go look for the griffin ourselves. You seemed to find it fine.”
“Usually, I’d agree with you, but it took me a little more than two weeks to find the griffin last time. You’d think something so big would leave a lot more traces, but even with your help, I don’t think we’d be able to find it in just a little more than a day.”
“Whatever, it’s your money we’d be burning.”
“I have eight emerald, 12 ruby, and 20 sapphire. That’s not a little, but I wish I had more. We’ll just have to hope we have enough and that he’s in a good mood.”
Kristina opened the door for Darius, gesturing for him to enter. Somewhat reluctantly, he obliged. The inside didn’t look any better than the outside, a dirt floor, patches of straw chewed out by various animals, and the only light source being a few open patches of straw at the top of the hut.
In the middle of the house was an old, bald, pale skinned man, with blank, clouded eyes. He was incredibly skinny, to the point where Darius could see his ribs pointing out of his chest. His body was covered with many tattoos, only his dried and wrinkled skin caused what may have been elaborate designs to become misshapen. His greying beard reached low to his chest and was unkept. He was wearing what seemed to be actual rags, in fact, the only thing of value on his person was a small, rusted medallion he wore on his neck. All the while, he sat in his chair completely motionless.
“Is-is he dead?” Darius questioned as he walked inside and examined The Scribe. “He looks ancient, so maybe he just died peacefully in his chair, but it’s kind of eerie how he just kind of moved on.”
“No, far from it.”
Kristina started to shuffle into her bag before taking out a few sapphire chips and tossing them to the ground near The Scribe. It happened so suddenly that Darius almost missed it. The Scribe leapt from his chair grabbing the chips, crawling like a cockroach to one of the corners of the house.
“See, he’s doing just fine.”
“Fine was not a word I would use to describe this man,” Darius thought. “What was that? What was with the… crawling?”
Kristina replied with a shrug, “Honestly, I don’t know either. I only half thought that would work. As long as he gets us what we want, does it really matter?”
The Scribe continued to… do whatever it was he was doing as Kristina and Darius approached him. Thinking he was oblivious to their existence, Kristina moved to grab The Scribe’s attention, but he quickly turned to face them with the chips in his mouth.
“You…you two have come to acquire my services, no?”
Kristina was quick to talk business. “Yes, we have a griffin we want to find, here I’ll give you 3 emeral-” but she was quickly cut off.
The Scribe shot up off the ground, grabbing a small, decrepit cane off the nearby wall. Rushing himself in front of her face. “30. I want 30 emeralds.”
Kristina’s face immediately dropped; she definitely wasn’t expecting such a high number. “I’m happy that you’re willing to help us, but that… that’s a bit much, isn’t it?”
“28 then,” responded the Scribe with very little hesitation.
“Again, that’s a bit… I understand that Relativity Wattiez can be tiring, but we really need the help, and we don’t have the-”
Darius took the chance to cut Kristina off, pulling her from The Scribe. “First rule of negotiation, don’t tell an opposing party that you don’t have enough coin.”
“Well, we don’t have enough chips, not by a long shot. What now?”
“First, I need you to confirm something for me. This house, or hut rather, looks horribly run down, especially when compared to the other houses in horizon. Is that normal for a scribe?”
Kristina closely considered what Darius said. “I’ve met a couple of other scribes, and they are typically pretty well off. In fact, a small village like Horizon having a scribe in the first place is somewhat strange. They typically work in much larger villages, or in one of the great cities, why?”
“Then it’s not the money he wants, at least not to spend it,” Darius thought. “Hey Scribe, how many pieces of bread should an emerald chip buy.”
“I don’t know. One chip for one loaf should be fine, right?”
Jackpot! Thought Darius, at least until Kristina opened her mouth.
“What? No! An emerald chip could easily buy-” Luckily, he was quick to cover her mouth.
“How about one ruby or sapphire chip?”
“About the same. I mean the only difference is color.”
“Unfortunately, we don’t have the emeralds. So instead, would you be fine with eight, no ten rubies and twenty sapphire instead?”
“Yeah, sure. As long as I get my chips, I don’t really care.”
“What?! Then why did you ask for 30 emeralds!” Kristina fumed.
“They taste better,” The Scribe responded.
Kristina wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, so Darius did for her, pleased that his guess actually worked. “A pleasure doing business with you Mister… Excuse me, I’ve yet to introduce myself. My name is Darius, and the currently furious young lady is Kristina. May I have your name?”
Hand outstretched, Darius moved to shake hands with the old scribe when he heard Kristina’s words from behind him. “The Scribe doesn’t have a name. Being as old as the village itself, his name was lost to ti-“
“Jhandis, you can just call me Jhandis, sir Darius,” he said taking Darius’s hand.
“Jhandis, your name is Jhandis? Anyone I’ve ever heard talking about you has only called you The Scribe.”
“Well, that’s because no one else, alive at least, knows my real name.”
“Why? Are you constrained by some sort of ancient and secret-”
“No one’s asked. A long time ago, I told the people of the village that I was a scribe. Overtime, they just turned my title into a name.”
“Oh.” Kristina’s face started to flush red, most likely due to realizing how childish she sounded before.
“I assume my name was not the thing you intended to find today?”
“The bird-cat, yes!” Darius shouted before he realized his mistake. “Griffin, excuse me, perhaps my partner could explain better.”
“Yeah, a Griffin on the larger side. It’s been harassing the village people for nearly half a year now. Haven’t you heard of it?”
“Aye, it’s the one stealing the people’s crops and livestock. Are you the Hunters Emmy called for?”
Kristina stood confused, namely on who Emmy could be. “No and sorry, Emmy? Is that… is that the Chief’s name?!” Realization struck her like a bolt of lightning which left her in a laughing fit.
“Did you not know it? It was a nickname he had in his youth. Then again, the last time I heard someone refer to Emmy by name, he strangled that person. Good memories, strong boy that one, but a bit hard in the head. So, long as you’re not one of those Hunters, follow me.”