“You can’t just send her out like that,” Theo said, locking his eyes on Aarok. The Half-Ogre wouldn’t give, staring right back.

“I’ll remind you what we are. By your own words, we’re a military force,” Aarok said. He didn’t budge, either in demeanor or position. “She’s the only one with an escape option like that. Now, do you mind letting my little soldier give her report.”

Theo felt a surge of conflicting emotions. Bal wasn’t the most powerful adventurer in town, but he was good. Ranked top 10 in the town, even if they hadn’t shuffled the rankings since the Elves arrived. Tresk was still ranked first, Luras trailing at a close second. If the Marshling had to run away using the [Dreampassage] ability, that meant all her other skills were on cooldown. Even with multiple forms of escape, she had to resort to that one.

“Please,” Theo said, gesturing. He sank into a chair and sighed. There was no reason to go for everyone’s throat.

“Just a couple slick bastards,” Tresk shrugged, dripping [Cleansing Scrub] over her head. Waves of white washed her clean in moments, removing the layers of mud. “I thought I had the jump on this one guy, but then his friends jumped out of the forest north of the dungeon. They were fleeing to the mountains.”

“Did you see their faces?” Aarok asked, still staring Theo down.

“Obscured by some magic crap,” Tresk said. “Hooded in black. I cut one of their arms with my dagger. They’ll be lucky to keep the arm with Theo’s poisons.”

“Bandits?” Theo asked.

“Perhaps,” Aarok said, finally looking at Tresk.

“We expected that,” Theo said, straightening up. “Are these the same people we saw near the river? Either way, what are they after?”

“Why don’t you just ask Khahar,” Luras said, chuckling.

“There are threads of fate I cannot pull,” Khahar said, appearing near Bal. The Human adventurer yelped in surprise.

That left a sour taste in Theo’s mouth. He looked at Tresk, who didn’t seem shaken at all. She held herself with the pride of the strongest adventurer in town. Being a leader meant taking control, but also understanding where he wasn’t useful. The alchemist was familiar with subterfuge, but this was different. If someone asked him to attack Broken Tusk, he wouldn’t start by picking off people on the outskirts of town. He would infiltrate and sabotage. This seemed more like a petty robbery.

But why would such skilled people need to rob? Running the dungeon made more sense if they just wanted money.

“No hints?” Tresk asked, grinning at the Khahari leader.

“None.”

“I think it’s bandits,” Theo said.

“No one said otherwise,” Luras laughed. “People were driven from the north, it only makes sense.”

But the look Khahar gave Theo said it was more than that. He might not have used his words to communicate the dire situation, but it was there in those eyes. Eyes that faded further from the mortal realm by the day. The walls of Broken Tusk were strong. These bandits, or whatever they were, wouldn’t strike at the heart of the town.

“We have a plan for this,” Aarok said. “Sending our only [Shadowdancer] to engage was the first step. We needed information. Now we know they’re strong enough to worry about.”

“Which means we’ll issue a general call to arms,” Luras said. “No more solo adventuring until we sort the problem out. Everyone who goes outside the walls, goes with a team.”

That was a decent plan. If Tresk had backup, she could have taken the group. Theo could feel that in his heart, information was bleeding over through the Tara’hek. She’d underplayed the condition of the man she struck. The potions were strong, and almost impossible to remove unless there was a specialist there. Even the alchemist would have trouble curing his own poisons.

“Good plan,” Theo said with a nod. “Do what you have to, Aarok.”

“I will,” Aarok said, moving on to discuss specifics with Luras.

Tresk was upset that she had to stay within the walls for the day. Theo wouldn’t let her risk it since her [Dreampassage] skill would be down until tomorrow. But she understood, vowing to stick by Theo’s side for the rest of the day. They left the meeting after a while, departing the Adventurer’s Guild to arrive at town hall. Another meeting with Alise and her administration staff.

Theo explained the situation. The sawmill team needed heavy escorts now, compared to their lighter ones. Golems would bridge the gap of lacking manpower, running around town and protecting the citizens. Half-way through the meeting, Xol’sa and Zarali showed up to give their opinions.

“No signs of tampering with the dungeon,” Xol’sa said. He had a broad smile on his face. “I’ve just been leveling my [Dungeon Engineer] core, so I’d see.”

“Drogramath is silent,” Zarali said. “Unsurprising. What’s the big deal, anyway? A few rogue bandits shouldn’t grind our town to a halt.”

“Better to be cautious,” Theo said.

The door of the meeting room opened again, and Fenian strolled in. He sauntered across the room, the many bangles on his wrists playing a merry tune. The Elf took a seat, kicking his feet up on the table.

“So, bad guys?” Fenian asked. “Shall we meet them in the marsh at sundown?”

“I’d rather not,” Theo said.

“Bet you could take them,” Tresk said, grinning at the Elf.

Fenian just shrugged.

“Could you take them?” Theo asked.

“I’d have to see them first,” Fenian said. “But I don’t make a habit of fighting without understanding my enemy.”

“Didn’t think you fought at all,” Alise muttered.

“You have a lot to learn about our trader,” Theo said. “It’s a hot topic of speculation. What cores does our illustrious trader have?”

“I never kiss on the first date, my dear alchemist,” Fenian said, waving the question away. “I’ll promise you this. The next time they attack, they will be but red smears on the road.”

“Is that really a promise?” Theo asked, leaning in.

While most had theories about what cores Fenian was hiding, Theo knew. At least one of the Elf’s cores was a [Parantheir’s Duelist Core], which must have been a close-range fighting core. He might have others, but that was his highest level core. How high was beyond anyone’s guess. Anyone but Khahar, perhaps. The important thing for the alchemist to consider was the storied past Fenian never revealed. The fate of House Southblade and their association with King Karasan. At every turn, the Elf walked a path paved in blood and stone.

“It is,” Fenian said, flashing a grim smile. “Not even 10 of Zaul’s strongest assassins could best me.”

“Think so?” Tresk asked, jumping up from her chair.

“I do.”

Tresk moved in a blur, falling into the shadows and jumping from them in a single heartbeat. She appeared behind the trader, fist cocked back and ready to deliver a blow to the back of his head. Fenian’s chair flew across the room, propelled by the force of him standing so suddenly. The Marshling’s strike hit air, and she tumbled forward to smack her face into the hardwood table.

“My face!” Tresk shouted, pressing her palms into her forehead.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

“At least you can take one of Zaul’s okay-ist assassins,” Theo said, producing a [Healing Potion] for Tresk to drink.

“No fighting in my meeting room!” Alise shouted, pointing at the ruined chair at the far end of the room. “You owe me a chair, Tresk.”

Tresk downed the potion, the welt on her forehead disappearing. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Adventures are children,” Alise huffed. “Don’t think I won’t smack you with a wooden spoon, Mister Feintleaf.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Fenian said, producing a wooden chair from nowhere and sitting on it. “My point stands. I won’t start my mission until the interlopers are dead.”

“Well, I appreciate it,” Theo said, finding it hard to express his feelings. It was easy to thank the Elf for the trade he provided. But for protection, that just seemed weird.

There was other, boring business to attend to. Alise had financial reports, and wage forecasts for the Season of Fire. They’d go bankrupt in a few weeks without Fenian’s offer for material trade. Theo handed over 50 of his 100 gold to the cause.

“You know… You can add this to the town’s treasury,” Alise said, touching the gold. It vanished.

“I knew that,” Theo said. He didn’t.

When the meeting was over, everyone went off to do their own thing. Tresk joined back with Theo, heading to the lab to make more potions for Fenian. The process went quickly, since the Marshling seemed to handle the essences well. She could act as his assistant in the lab, even if she couldn’t perform the reactions herself. After they were done there, they headed off to the farm to check on the [Starbristle Flax] production.

Banu had made his first harvest of the new textiles, replanting the ever-cultivating crop to expand his production. The more the farmer expanded his core building, the more fields he’d have. But, it was hard to convince him to do anything. There was nothing Theo could do about it now. He left with an inventory full of his new crop, and headed to drop it off at the weaver’s building.

Despite Tresk’s desire to get out and adventure, she had a great time running around with Theo. It gave them a chance to talk in person. Their discussions were normally through the [Tara’hek Communication] ability. While that was fine, there was something different about talking to each other in person. Alex also enjoyed having both of them so near, chirping from her bag constantly. The Marshling fed her a constant supply of random bugs, worms, and whatever other crap she had in her inventory.

When it came time to drop the materials off at the weaver, Theo found a scrawny, gray-haired Elf waiting outside. She was tall by Elven standards, coming up to the alchemist’s shoulders. The older woman wore threadbare slacks and a shirt with no shoes. When she spotted the group coming around the corner, she bowed low and made her introductions.

“Sara’teil,” she said, casting a nervous look at Theo. She pressed her palm into her chest. “Kaya”

“Oh. I don’t think she speaks Qavelli,” Tres said, scratching her damp, hairless head. She switched to Bantari. “You speak any lizard languages?”

“I don’t think she does,” Theo said, noting the confused look on the woman’s face. He switched to Drogramathi. “How about Demon languages? No? Axpashi?”

“You scared her,” Tresk said.

Theo assumed the woman’s name was Kaya, from her gesture. But the roughness of the Demonic tongue had scared her. The alchemist switched back to the Qavelli language. Not that it mattered.

“This is your building,” he said, gesturing to the weaver’s workshop. He produced a stalk of flax from his inventory. “Can you turn this into thread? Sails for my boats?”

Kaya had a confused look on her face, but she took the item from Theo and nodded. She pushed into the workshop without another word, and the pair followed. The Elf paused at the far side of the room, in front of something that looked like a giant comb. She held her hand out, shaking the bundle of flax in her other hand.

“She wants more,” Tresk said, nodding to Theo.

The alchemist produced all the flax he had, placing it in the room’s corner. That seemed to be what Kaya wanted. Each stalk of the flax plant had a long, dried section ending in a tangle of seed pods and smaller sticks. The Elf grabbed a handful and ran it over the comb, which removed all the extra material at the top, sending it tumbling to the ground in a pile.

“She’s getting rid of the seeds,” Tresk observed.

“Keen eye.”

Kaya moved her handful of flax to the other side of the room, near the window. She set it on a table, found the nearest blunt object and began beating the hell out of the flax. Theo winced at the first strike, but kept his cool. The woman’s strength and endurance were impressive, and she had the Starbristle pulverized in a few minutes. Kaya then produced a dull knife and raked it against the stalks, removing some more of the exterior sections of flax. The next step was to take the stalks and run them through a finer comb near the comically large one. Within a few minutes, the rough plant was looking like a bundle of shining blue thread.

Kaya said something else in her native language, gesturing to the large spinning wheel that dominated the room’s center. She sat down, and worked her magic. To Theo, it looked as much like magic as anything else, because within a few minutes she had a bobbin loaded with smooth, blue thread. It wasn’t rough, like Theo expected. The alchemist thought it would come out the other end looking more like twine. But that was the difference between a mundane weaver, and one with a core.

“Payment,” Theo said, knitting his brows. What was the best way to communicate that this was a paying job? He arrived at the solution quickly. “Contracts.”

Theo drew up a contract for Kaya. He hoped the magic in the [Contracts] skill would translate the text for her. When the prompt showed up, Kaya made an excited sound then babbled in her native language.

[Starbristle Weaver]

Contract

Kaya Wavecrest will provide Broken Tusk with 3 days of labor per week to spin [Starbristle Flax] into [Starbristle Thread]. At her own pace, she shall weave the [Starbristle Thread] into [Starbristle Cloth] for the construction of sails. She shall earn 15% of market value on all items produced. Theo Spencer agrees to support Kaya Wavecrest’s endeavors to ensure her success within Broken Tusk.

Terms:

Kaya Wavecrest will work the [Weaver’s Workshop] no less than 3 days per week.

Kaya Wavecrest is responsible for all workers she hires, including distribution of funds.

Theo Spencer (Belgar) will supply all materials for the weaver to work.

Theo Spencer (Belgar) will ensure the safety of all workers.

Theo Spencer (Belgar) will provide [Monster Cores] to upgrade the weaver.

Timeline:

Renewed every year

Theo thought he had some logic to the way he drew up payment on contracts. It was more of a feeling if someone got 10%, 15%, or 90%. She made no changes to the contract, sending it back to Theo with her magical signature. Kaya reached out, still speaking in Taranthian, and shook his hand.

“Hey, I guess she likes it,” Tresk said, laughing.

“We need to tell Gael about this,” Theo said, watching as the woman got to work. “If his people need tutoring in Qavelli, someone needs to provide it.”

“Agreed,” Tresk said.

Theo inspected the thread that Kaya produced before leaving the workshop.

[Starbristle Thread]

[Textile]

Uncommon

Starbristle Flax is known for its alluring color and strength.

The contract automatically filled in the prompt for [Starbristle Cloth], but without an example Theo couldn’t figure out how to inspect it. That didn’t matter, though. They had a way to make cloth. Something large enough to create sails for his boats, and the system message said Starbristle was known for its strength. The alchemist would need to come back with an interpreter and find the best upgrades for her workshop.

While he was thinking about his boats, Theo figured it was a good time to check on how the pitch production was going. Tresk joined him out on the street, listening to the calls of Kaya inside. They supposed she was saying goodbye, and moved on. Laedria Wavecrest was at the port, overseeing several bonfires raging on the paved ground. He didn’t want to yell at them for burning a grease stain onto his beautiful harbor, so he bit back the words bubbling from his throat.

“Mister Mayor! Fancy you showed up,” Laedria said. “See, I haven’t been paid for my good labor. I’m out here choking on smoke and making your [Ogre Cypress Pitch] without a single copper coin in my hand.”

“Have you built a boat?” Theo asked.

“Well, I’ve made pitch. And assembled some lumber,” Laedria said, crossing her arms.

Theo reminded himself of the proper way to deal with someone like Laedria. If this was someone else, he would have fawned over her efforts. Pitch was a big deal. But Laedria Wavecrest was a pain in the ass. She wanted to knock heads with others for no good reason, and needed a good knock in the head back.

“Food is free in town, if you can’t pay. You have housing and food. Show me even part of a boat, and we’ll talk terms,” Theo said. “Until then, I’ll assume you’re worthless.”

“Hah!” Laedria said, thumping her hand on her chest. “I like you, mayor. You want a Glan-damn boat? I’ll give you a boat.”

Theo thought about the expression she used for a moment. Glantheir was the Elven God of Healing, so that was her way of saying ‘god damn’. He tried to hide the smile on his face, moving over to inspect the pitch she was creating. Through burning the [Ogre Cypress Bark], running it over a fire in large copper pots, she had produced [Ogre Cypress Pitch].

[Ogre Cypress Pitch]

[Alchemy Ingredient] [Pitch]

Rare

Pitch useful for sealing.

Properties:

[????] [????] [????]

“I’m not eating that,” Theo said, looming over a pot of foul-smelling sludge.

“No one asked you to!” Laedria shot back, cackling.

The harbor had more problems than just needing boats. They needed someone to run the harbor alongside their shipwright. Theo couldn’t think of anyone for the job, but he’d find someone. For now, the harbor was on its way to being the most vital part of Broken Tusk. The alchemist watched the team of Elves stoke fires, his mind swirling with ideas to improve the process. Throk’s [Flame Artifices] would have been better to work the [Ogre Cypress Bark], but it would be nice to let Laedria and her people sweat over this. A person like her needed hardship to find their place.