“There you have. No more hassle at the Gate,” Jonas said as he handed each of his team members the precious employment certificate, signed by Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington, sponsor of the High Labyrinth Office.
He then flopped on the chair at the large round table around which the team had taken to wait for their last member to arrive. The inn was starting to get slowly crowded, as evening was nearing, but there were still a few tables left free. Unsurprisingly, most of the occupied ones sported groups of four or five people talking animatedly, making a loud buzz. Presumably, if your Focus was high enough, you’d be able to eavesdrop, but apparently, even Jonathan with his whopping 38 potential level was not bothered by the general hubbub.
“So? What news from the boss?”
“Did not meet the Duke yet, just her Highness. She’s stuck in London for some time. The King wants a next heir, apparently.”
Most of the team members politely winced, Alton joining them a bit late.
“How will her team deal with it?” Laura asked.
“I haven’t asked. She’s probably not happy already; no need to add to the injury.”
“Who is going to be daft enough to marry a Professional by order? She could probably swat him out of existence at the first dispute,” Guss remarked.
“There’s always plenty of daft nobles around,” Ira replied.
At that moment, the last tankard arrived. The waiter asked dutifully, “Any refills?”
“Nope.” “I’m good.” “Fine now.” “One soon…” Ira said in reply.
As the waiter departed, Jonas threw a look at his friend.
“What? It’s just a groat for a full tankard. We got some money, and that’s only good enough in town. Besides I was back here first.”
“We might need to buy some stuff. The Office isn’t flush with funds, you know,” Jonas replied.
“Speaking of which, I checked stores for improving our gear,” Laura added.
They all turned toward her expectantly.
“Okay. Those brokers make a killing on us. There are a couple of stores who sell gear if you want it, but everything from level 1 to 100 is at least a crown, maybe even 6 or 7 shillings, and that’s just for some quality gear. A half-pound for fifty levels exceptional-type gear. Any under-levelled heroic like mine? It’s well over a pound.”
“Ouch,” Jonas said.
“Yea. They sell everything at least twice higher than what they bought it for.”
“Can anyone afford that?”
“Probably not. Most everyone has a company store to draw from, who lend them some early gear until they earn better stuff.”
“Like that boss Zacharias suggested.”
“Exactly. So that’s not a good idea to buy some gear,” Laura concluded.
Jonas turned to Guss.
“I assume that means you didn’t find any better prices.”
“Nope. Most brokers actually buy in bulk, from larger companies. There’s not that many single teams like us,” he replied.
“There are?”
“Yes. Which reminds me, I may have a solution to Laura’s gear search. I’ve invited one guy I met, he’ll be around later. Aside from that, the only reason we got more money from the Artefact Hunting is just that it was all mid-high-end tier two gear rather than low tier one.”
“So, no better deal in sight?” Jonas asked in confirmation.
“Not likely,” Guss answered.
“We should stay frugal in purchases, then,” Jonas concluded.
“It’s still almost a pound a month for all of us. If we didn’t pay for the inn, that’d be a very good wage,” Ira added.
“Want to keep camping in the field?” Alton asked.
“Yikes, no. That’s fine when we’re out in Othary, but now? No way when we’re back in town.”
“Hear, hear!” most of the team yelled back.
The dinner finally arrived, along with a refill for Ira’s beer. It was a relatively basic meal. A bowl of soup and some kind of white meat slices with weird orangish peas, along with a fresh loaf of bread. It was a far cry from the fancy meal they had with the Fullmores and their bosses when they first arrived, but it was still exotic. Everything was almost familiar, yet slightly different.
They were finishing with apples, who looked normal but sported a descriptor that betrayed their Labyrinth origins when Guss rose and waved across the room at someone. Jonas looked at the man who negotiated passage around the crowded common room of the Inn. A young man, more or less like them, with a set of slightly mismatched leathers that indicated their origin of Labyrinth gear.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
A few moments were spent finding and dragging a seventh chair for the newcomer who finally sat at the table. He’d barely sat that a waiter immediately came to enquire. He indicated he’d already eaten, but he wasn’t against a pint.
“Not much more. I don’t have the Constitution or Stamina for it; wrong Milestones so far,” he said.
“Jonas, let me introduce Odhran. Odhran O’Hogan, from Galway,” said Guss in preamble.
“My salutations, Sir Sims,” the man replied, bringing out his wrist in salutation.
“Lord no. We’re among Professionals here; it still feels awkward to be called Sir”, Jonas groaned.
The rest of the team exchanged descriptors with their guest. The man was a level 74 Planner, a Fortitude-oriented Profession.
“It’s an honour to meet all you. You are the most famous of all Professionals, honoured by the King himself. And, well, you saved us all.”
“We did not do much. It was a matter of circumstances,” Jonas protested.
“But you did. That’s what counts, in the end.”
Jonas wasn’t about to mention that, in his case, it was merely random chance that led him to kick the inert Gate and die from shock, unlike the rest of the team who had run in to yield their life force for the restart knowingly.
“My team and I were all freshly at tier two, and we were coming to London for a celebration break when the Gate literally shut down on us. Stella was almost ten feet from the arch when the thing started to rage like it was a storm at sea. We ran back like little kids. Then, it popped like a gigantic bubble of foam, and we were, like, freaking because of the descriptor that was suddenly there and saying it was Locked now.”
“That must have been strange for you, but you were Professionals and used to the descriptors. For us, it was unimaginable chaos. The French were firing their bizarre weapons and the Gate was looking like it was exploding in very slow motion, and it was showing its descriptor for everyone looking. And then we were caught and we were… in some limbo. Like there was a place between Gates,” Jonas remembered.
“I’ve always felt the slight gap when you cross a Gate. Some don’t but there’s always this little moment…”
“So what brings a lad from Galway all the way to the Labyrinth?” Ira asked.
“There was that epidemic, two years ago; lots of us got sick or died in Galway. There were a few people, but the doctors usually caught it as well. The only one immune was a Professional, an Abiding Assistant from the Highlands…” the man slowed, obviously remembering that time.
“My next Profession,” Guss added. “Then I’ll switch to Precise Fixer next.”
The Irishman looked at him puzzled, as if what he said didn't make sense, before going back to his story.
“He was good, but only one man. We lost a lot of people to the typhus. So… the Earl of Clancarty decided we needed more Professionals in Galway. When they started seriously producing those measuring devices, Lord Trench got hold of one and started doing checks. Anyone could come, and if you qualified, he’d sponsor your trip to London.”
“So, he’s set up his company for the Irish then?”
“Sort of. He hasn’t the connections or the resources of the old established companies, those with old Professionals or big government posts. But as long as you’re a peer, you can make one, so he created the Company of St Nicholas. The only condition for employment is that, if the Isle needs you, you’ll come.”
“A wise and compassionate man, this Lord Trench then,” Ira said.
“But that brings me to the subject of this meeting,” Guss replied.
“What? It’s not just so that you can advertise our team around?” Jonas claimed in mock horror.
The rest of the team laughed, joined by O’Hogan.
“We met while I was checking a broker,” Guss started.
O’Hogan added, “I was there to sell some of our stuff after we finally got back from London for that break that was cancelled, and we talked, and I offered him an idea.”
“About what?” Jonas asked.
“About gearing. It’s kinda hard for us in small organisations to get gear early. The old companies have warehouses of the stuff they haven’t sold, but us, it’s just what we find.”
“We’re in the same situation. I mean, we work for the Duke of Wellington maybe, but that’s just two teams, and the others are her Highness’ and they’re all tier four. They don’t have any gear for us,” Jonas confirmed.
“The thing is, every time we run a lair, we get a bunch of items, and sometimes they are not that useful. Or one replaces something that you got during the last run. Or it’s for a different build, maybe it has the wrong skill and you’d rather keep your current one.”
“Following so far.”
“So why not swap? Maybe your team has something they don’t need, but one of us has a level 20 common he could replace it with. And maybe we have one caster gloves too many, and you don’t.”
“We… did that actually. Had a piece of heroic gear for a different build, and we traded it for an underleveled one for Ira to use immediately,” Jonas immediately remembered.
“So the idea is to hold a kind of trade fair. There are a few independent teams without resources like us. Not many, but some. We would meet, like, every two weeks, and we trade. No sale, no money, just one piece for one piece, at the same quality or level. Or anything you can agree with, actually. The essence of good trade – everyone walks out with better than they came with. That's something everyone could benefit from.”
“You seem to have a good idea, I agree. Did you do that with others before?”
“I haven’t discussed with anyone before, to be honest. But, it would be good with you along. I mean if you are doing it, then everyone…”
Jonas realized immediately what was O’Hogan’s plan.
“You want to use our team to bring legitimacy to the scheme, you mean,” he said.
“Well… yes. If you’re on board, then it’s a good idea. Everyone has heard of you and you’re heroes. Me, I’m just a paddy with no big achievement. Coming from you guys...”
“I agree though. It’s a really good idea. Not right now, of course. We’ve just sold everything we had, which wasn’t probably interesting. You got other people in yet?”
“Not yet. But we talk and we can get the word around. So, can I count on you?”
Jonas quickly thought out about their next run. The same four lairs, maybe five if the crows were back. But Ira would be close to his third Milestone, so they might have to trek to the Markandon Plaza so he could pick his next Profession…
“Let’s say, two weeks from now? Saturday in a fortnight?”
“Sounds good. Everyone’s bound to run at least two lairs by then. You just don’t sell anything until after the swap. That’s awesome,” the Irish said.
Jonas noticed his relief at the agreement. He wasn’t sure, but the man might have already started selling their patronage for the so-called trade fair despite his claim. If they had refused, it might have put a major crimp on his scheme.
Besides, it was a really good idea.
“Where would that fair of yours happen, then?” he asked.
“The Four Elementals is a large tavern at the edge of Gatepost. No lodgings, but they have large backrooms for big feasts, so it’s a good place to meet.”
“The Four Elementals in two weeks. We’ll see what stuff to trade looks like then,” Jonas confirmed.
“Maybe I’ll be finally with proper Layman gear,” Jonathan said with exaggerated hope.
“Now, tell me what kind of lair you’re running,” Laura asked.
They ended up needing two general refills until they climbed to their room.
Abiding Assistant
(tier 3)
Required: 45 WIS, 20 STA
Provides:
+7 health/+3 endurance/+5 mind/+12 aether per level
+1 Milestone/13 levels
Abiding Assistant Milestone: +7 WIS, +4 CON, +3 FOR, +2 DEX, +1 PRE, 0.5 aether per WIS
Skill set: Aether / Support