Despite my eagerness to continue playing with my skills, I had a job to do. The next morning I grabbed a small rind of cheese and some bread to snack on as I stepped out of my house. I waved at the lookout for the local gang. I would have to pay my protection money again soon. Giving a wave as I passed would keep them from thinking I was planning to skip out on paying. Next time I paid the gang, I’d throw in a bit extra to get them to keep an eye out at the shop for any other watchers as well as a bonus for info on anyone who asked questions. They would still sell me out, I’m not naive enough to think otherwise, but letting them know I wanted the information as well would let me know if someone got curious.
Hopefully.
Stopping off at the dock, I hired a wagon man for the morning. We stopped at the rear of the shop to load. Triggering the magical unlock mechanism, I pulled the double-wide back door open. I pointed out the parts of the metal contraption I wanted to be loaded while I gnawed on my cheese rind and bread. It took almost an hour to load up the stacked pig iron construction into the back of the wagon and another twenty-minutes to haul it up to the fortress. The wagon man was drawn up short at the fort when the guard waved us to a stop.
“What’s this now?” the guard demanded as he snagged his halberd that had been resting against the wall.
“Delivering for this one then,” said the wagoner as I hopped off the back of the cart and approached the guard.
At the sight of me, the guard sneered, but he waved us through. Seemed, the rumor mill had gotten around to everyone finding out how I had been lying. Fun times. I could already guess the kind of annoyance this training was going to cause.
The back half of the mustering hall was paved with stone and had an inner courtyard with an overhanging inner wall. It wasn’t the best place to set up my gear, even if it was charmed to resist rusting, I wasn’t eager to leave it outside. But, I doubted I would have much choice in the matter. Looking around, none of the guards seemed interested in my work. I would do what I wanted until the Baron said otherwise, and if they didn’t like it, they could take it up with him.
The wagoner was paid to load and unload, so I leaned against the palisade wall and watched him unload the heavy metal construction. While I watched, I considered how I could make this training less frustrating. This contraption was one of my most often used devices. It was custom built to make it safe and effective at what it did, but there was still a modicum of risk involved. Worse, I could just see the device being ‘accidentally’ damaged one late night by a grumpy guard. It would be difficult to destroy the giant construction of metal, but it wouldn’t be impossible. Especially considering that a guard would be more likely to have a destructive skill than your average merchant.
I rubbed my chin as I considered. Well, there was one option that always worked with guards.
Once the wagoner was tapping his horse’s back and trundling out of the fort, I began to assemble the device. Four metal feet rose to a flat plate of metal that slanted forward. The platform was soon surrounded by a metal box, and a metal seat was placed inside the box on a slanted groove. The door on the front of the box opened downward, and on each inner surface was a metal plate switch that connected to a front weight that would tip the seat forward and out of the box. Anyone sitting in the box when it was folded inward could escape by merely pressing on any surface. Doing so would cause the box to open outward like a blooming flower and tip the seated person forward and away from the device.
If I had been fully awake in the morning, I could have grabbed the ruined mattress of goose down feathers for the inevitable falls.
Typically, when training someone using this device, I would remove the switch panels from the inside. Then I would lock down the outer structure with metal pins so it couldn’t open, and attach the manacles to the interior. It was almost always easier to force someone to develop a Skill if they had no option to escape the machine. When I used it for my own training, I left it in its current condition. Unfortunately, I had long outstripped the extent of the enchantments on the device, and I had been waiting for a few well-paying customers before commissioning the upgrade.
A few of the guards were eyeballing me while I was setting everything up, and I knew that once it was done, someone would send for the Captain of the Guard. The Baron let him know as I left the day before that I was going to be training his men to be able to handle rough road conditions when he called for a campaign. Sure enough, when I leaned against the wall and started on the last of my bread, one of the guards disappeared into the inner hall. A few minutes later, the Captain approached me.
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“Mr. Still,” I cringed at the use of my actual name, “the Baron has put me in charge of training my men in-” he began before I cut him off.
“No Captain, he did not,” I said while pushing off of the wall at the Captain’s approach.
My blunt refusal to accept his authority seemed to surprise the Captain. I doubted that many men had ever talked that way to him. He was large, maybe six foot three or so, and made of muscle. He reminded me of the Baron, and I would guess that height and size were something he respected. I wasn’t anywhere near his size in either height or bulk. I was strong enough, but my body ran towards speed and precision over mass.
“Mr. Still, I am in charge of the Guards, and I will decide how they are trained,” the Captain said as he tried to loom over me.
“Good. Then could you send one of your men to get a wagon man? I’ll just pack up my equipment and head home. You can explain to the Baron why I’m not training his men,” I said with a smile.
This wasn’t how the Captain was expecting this to go. He was expecting me to bend to his bluster, and then he could order me around. That wasn’t going to happen. I didn’t plan or even want, to boss the Captain around, but he wasn’t going to be ordering me around either. There was no need for conflict, but men like the Captain didn’t see things like that.
“The Baron has ordered you to train these men!” the Captain shouted as two of his men braced to attention on either side of him. Their weapons oh so casually pointing more in my general direction.
“Yet you just told me that you would be deciding how to train them. Either the Baron wants me to do it, or he wants you to. If it’s me, it’ll be with my knowledge, Skill, and tools,” I said while not budging an inch. I hoped it was clear what the unsaid alternative was in my statement.
Oh, everyone knew how to develop a Skill, roughly enough. It came down to practice. But that Skill Trainers were better at it was also well known. All kinds of Skills could help someone else develop a Skill, most professions had them. For the guard, [Weapon Trainer] came to mind, but only the Skill Trainers had gone so far into training the odder skills that the Baron wanted.
With a snarl, the Captain turned and pointed at Sergeant Baker, who was watching from the inner courtyard. At the Sergeant’s approach, I tried for stoic, but I wasn’t sure how well I managed.
“As I understand it, you know Sergeant Baker. He has been put on punishment detail because of security leaks, and so he will be your liaison while you train the Baron’s men. He will solve your problems and answer your questions,” the Captain said as he marched away, leaving me with the annoyed Sergeant.
Ouch. Lots of thorns in those orders. Nothing much I could to do about it, though.
“Good morning Sergeant Baker. I want you to know that I did not enjoy the subterfuge that was forced onto me due to my profession. My choice was to lie to you or risk assassination from the Mage Guild. I’m sure you can understand my position, yes?” I asked quickly.
The older guard huffed and grumbled, his mustache moving around his face like an angry caterpillar, but eventually, he nodded and seemed to let it go. I wasn’t fooled into thinking that he had forgiven me, but he was at least pretending for the sake of his work. Walking with me around the large metal contraption, he stared at it while rubbing his chin. When I stopped at the front, he turned to me and silently turned up an eyebrow in question. The eyebrow was how I knew he was annoyed with me still, he was usually far more talkative. It was when he went silent that you knew that things had turned sour.
“This, Sergeant, is my resistance box. I’ve used it myself, and with a bit of coaxing, the men can gain both [Heat Resistance] and [Cold Resistance]. With a bit of work, they might be able to gain something like [Hardy] or even [Tough]. Though, we should focus on [Cold Resistance] first,” I began as the Sergeant took another loop around the contraption.
“Sergeant,” I said with emphasis as I held his gaze, “to show that I meant no harm. Let me make a suggestion. I plan to turn this into a bit of a competition. Don’t bet against me.”
The Sergeant passed a look over me, and then a crafty look came into the Sergeant’s gaze. I could see the wheels turning in his head as some plan formed to pick up some coin.
“So how’s this works then?” he asked, far more interested in the proceedings.
“If someone puts their hand on this plate here or here, they can push mana into the device to start it up. This rune is for cold, this one for heat,” I said while pointing to the respective runes.
“Then all they need to do is remain seated while the inside of the box changes in temperature. I will guide them through visualization exercises to improve their chances of earning a resistance skill instead of dealing with the temperature differently. If they pass out, they will slump and hit a plate, and the device will shut down as they are dumped out,” I said while slapping an inner plate to demonstrate the device’s collapse.
“I’ve also had a rune of Nurses’ Blessing enchanted onto the seat to help, but it’s the weakest rune on the device. I wouldn’t want to risk my life to it,” I said while tapping the rune situated on the seat. I had that rune added when a particularly delicate part of my anatomy had frozen to the seat, and the tumble had torn off the first layer of skin. I was far more careful about how I situated myself in the device while naked now. Though, that wouldn’t become a concern again until I could adjust to an updated device. At the moment, the device wasn’t able to reach a low enough temperature to cause me problems.
I first learned [Self Awareness] while sitting in the enclosed seat, so I had a strange love-hate relationship with the device. It was truly a versatile bit of equipment.
“Well, Sergeant, what do you say we get a troop over to try the icebox, and we see who wants to bet on how long they last?” I said to his matching grin.