008 - WORK THE PROBLEM, NOT THE SOLUTION

After that first trip to the thirteenth floor, Conrad tried to flee. He traveled with the group, seemingly compliant, all the way back up the spiral staircase to the courtyard where they had first entered the Warren. Periodically they would pass other adventuring groups and he tried to say something, tried to let them know about what was happening to him, but nothing would come out.

He experimented with a simple “hello” and had no trouble whatsoever, and in so doing realized that the contract must have some sort of confidentiality clause.

Leg feeling much better as they emerged from the dungeon, he attempted to run, Karina called after him, “Don’t you want to grab dinner together? Come on back over.” The comment was innocent and normal to all of the adventurers present, but for him it was an indomitable command. He found himself backpedaling to join the group.

“Just to make sure you’re taking care of yourself,” she said, voice jovial, “You’d best keep within shouting distance. Couple of blocks should do the trick.”

The group returned to the same tavern, which was actually an Inn apparently, where they had a long term contract for two rooms. Originally Karina bunked alone, but now that Conrad was part of the group he would be sharing space with Joy while Buck joined Karina in the empty twin bed in her room.

Karina then sent Conrad, with explicit instructions to stay close to Joy - who would be carrying in his inventory the mined ore and sundry items they had pulled from their recent dungeon run - off to get the best price possible for their goods from one of the town merchants.

“And don’t try to tell them anything that might bring that mother of yours sniffing around,” Karina added.

Fully shackled now, Conrad left with Joy and made the rounds to various shops in the neighborhood, selling items to whichever shop would give them the best prices. Conrad, due to the explicit instruction to get the best price possible, actually found himself almost enjoying the haggling and full use of his Merchant skills. If he had even an inkling he could get more for what he was offering than he was being offered he was literally compelled to stick around at the bargaining table and see if he could get it.

He invoked Market Sense liberally, which, once he inquired around about prices and offerings, showed him a chart of probable price movement denoted with red and green candlesticks patterns.

When all was said and done he walked away with close to ten gold, and if the shares were split equitably he would be earning a very reasonable wage for the work he put in down in the Warren. And, he thought bitterly, he would be eagerly awaiting more opportunities to prove his value to the party instead of resenting every step he took back to the inn to deliver the spoils of their dive.

“How about returning my armor,” Conrad said after being denied any part of the earnings from the dungeon run, “I’ll be better protected. I can help more.”

Buck turned to Karina as if he might debate the question, but instead asked, “Should I tell him?”

Karina laughed and took a deep pull on her mug of ale, “Might as well, he’ll figure it out eventually.”

Turning back to Conrad, Buck, who was still wearing his leather armor, peeled back the collar of it for Conrad to see underneath.

And there was his chain mail shirt.

Conrad wasn’t even surprised. In fact he would have been more surprised to find that the armor was just languishing in Buck’s inventory. He had half expected them to ask him to sell it earlier that day while he had been out with Joy.

“Was debating wearing it over the top of the leather,” Buck said, “But underneath its quiet, and frankly, I can replace the leather cheaper than the mail if it gets damaged. A fantastic gift, by the way, welcome to the team!”

He grinned and raised his mug.

“Do you have anything else for me to wear? I got shredded in the last run,” Conrad said.

Buck smirked, “You did fine. Keep proving your worth and eventually you’ll merit some upgrades.”

Conrad excused himself from the table, leaving Joy to drink with the rest of the band he returned to their room alone. The utter hopelessness of the situation was nearly overwhelming his ability to think silently so he began to talk out loud, careful to keep his noise down.

“In terms of strategy, there’s not a lot I can do,” he said, “Stuck near these people, definitely going back into the dungeon, no hope of them giving me better armor or helping me to improve my stats.

“I know there are rules in the contract, limits. So that means I can test them pretty easily. So let’s lay out my problems. One, I have inadequate protection. Two, my options for weapons are too limited - having just the club seemed reasonable until that lizard tried to eat my leg. A knife would have been helpful there.”

He paced, considering further, “What If I had a knife? Say I found a decent one lying around, would I be forced to sell it or give it up to Buck and Karina? Probably. But if I was, is there a way I can get a knife or something like it without being forced to give it up?”

Going to his pack he pulled out a notebook and pen - there was something he figured they wouldn’t try to take from him. They weren’t exactly the journaling type.

He started jotting down the things he was listing out.

1 - no protection

2 - limited weapons

Continuing the list he muttered as he wrote, “my stats are inadequate. No combat skills.” He pondered that for a second as he glanced at his new Fighter class. It had several skills that would come in handy.

“Toughness is a start but I’ll need Tireless and Adrenaline Rush for sure, and if I can push hard enough, I may even be able to reach the first natural tier II class above Fighter. But that’s for later.”

Taking a seat on the windowsill and warming to the intellectual work, the kind of work he was better trained for, he started diagramming and adding to his notes as he spoke quietly to himself.

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“The overall problem is the contract, so the endgame is to get out of the contract. Possibilities for doing so… Impress the seekers enough to invite me into their party properly…” he put an X next to that one, “Unlikely.”

“Find something sufficiently valuable that I can buy my way out? Maybe, but it seems like the contract would have something in it to force me to give it up without any sort of deal anyway.” He put a Triangle next to it, signifying a maybe.

“Get leverage,” he wrote it down, “blackmail… hostage? Probably not… wonder if any of them have a cat or something?” He scribbled out that last part. How much of a monster would he have to become to take somebody’s cat hostage?

“I have a code,” he said in a mocking tone to himself, “No kids, no cats.”

He thought quietly a second, the act of working the problem having given him some measure of mental calm. Then he underlined the leverage idea. “This. Not sure how yet, but the only other option would be to kill them.”

Nah. The contract would definitely forbid that. Besides, he joined up to kill monsters and get rich, not become a murderer. If he could get out of this without bloodshed he would, and he was sort of glad the contract would hold him back - would he even be able to produce the evidence that he had been compelled against his will to work with the Seekers if he were arrested for something like that?

“OK, I know what direction I want to start moving but I can’t just magically find the leverage to get out of this contract, so that means this is going to take time. If it takes time, then I’m heading back into the dungeon. If I’m heading back into the dungeon my luck won’t last forever…” he looked over the other problems he had listed on the paper, “So what can I work on first? Protection, weapons, stats, skills.. All of this inside whatever the framework of the contract allows. Let’s try a little experiment.”

He looked around the room. Other than the beds and a single bedside table with drawers, the only furnishing in the room was a large heavy looking trunk. Inside it he found what looked to be Joy’s possessions. He sifted through and found himself unable to take anything out of it, “There’s one question answered,” he muttered, “Stealing now officially off the table.”

He closed the chest and gave it an experimental lift. It was heavy, but he could lift it. He decided to try to leave the room with it and found his feet rooted to the ground. So, he was able to lift the trunk, which had been his full intention, but as soon as he decided to leave with it, that moved the act into the territory of stealing.

The specific act of stealing was obviously forbidden, but what was more important seemed to be the idea behind the magic. It hadn’t escaped Conrad’s notice that the contract worked somehow on his intentions and not just his actions. Good to know.

He tried lifting the trunk again, careful to use his legs this time in order to not damage his back… and remembered the heavy iron weights they had once sold in his shop. Apparently, adventurers like to use them when they were out of the dungeon to help raise their strength stat.

He gripped the trunk tightly and slowly stood to his full height just before locking out his knees, and then slowly lowered it back to the ground, trying not to make any noise that might draw the Seekers up to see what he was up to.

It was tough. He was breathing a little bit just from the single repetition.

“This could work. First problem to be solved starting tonight is stats. And tonight I train strength.”

For the next hour he experimented with various postures and movements with the goal in mind of simply tiring every single muscle he could figure out how to work with such limited equipment and near zero knowledge of what he was actually doing. And, as when he couldn’t lift any longer and resolved to take a break, he was rewarded with a notification:

Status Modification

Strength: +1

“YES!” he yelled, quickly closing his mouth and instead doing a silent victory dance. He was so underdeveloped in physical stats that small increases seemed to be fairly easy to come by. He wondered why he hadn’t been doing some measure of strength training on his own over the years, in his spare time, but now wasn’t the time for regret.

Outside the shadows were growing long and it wouldn't be long before the Inn was serving dinner, so he decided to see if he could make any progress on his endurance before he headed down and tried to get something to eat.

He put on all the socks he had brought along to muffle the sound of his feat and carefully pushed the beds aside to make as much room as he could get. Then, space prepared, he took out the heavy cudgel he had been given to defend himself.

He started walking around the room, swinging the cudgel in exaggeratedly long arcs, going fast, then slow, then fast again, then switching hands. He adjusted his posture, trying to make walking harder and get himself breathing hard. He figured if he could get as tired as a strenuous run, or a fight, maybe he could bump up his endurance.

Half an hour later, sweat running down his face and hair matted to his head he was once again rewarded with a notification.

Status Modification

Endurance: +1

Agility: +1

He was too exhausted to celebrate out loud, but internally he was cheering. This was it! This was how he would begin getting around the contract binding him. The small stat boost was immediately perceptible and he breathed easier, feeling as if he could do a little more despite having been exhausted only moments earlier.

After a few minutes of cooling down he wiped the remaining sweat from his face, changed clothes, and headed down to get something to eat. The Seekers at least wouldn’t deny him food. Probably because it came with the room, but it was a good thing nonetheless.

Every day he could find space to train and improve his stats. If he could find some ways to earn additional XP, he could invest in his Fighter skills - and as a high level Merchant, he already had ideas that would both gain him favor with the other adventurers and earn him similar, small though they would be, amounts of XP as he would earn working in the shop.

As for offense and defense… that was another challenge. He mulled it over silently while he ate next to the Seekers at their customary table on the second floor.

“Quiet now isn’t he,” Buck remarked.

“Sure sure,” Joy said, munching on a chicken leg.

Karina, already drunk, slurred at him, “Come on then, it’s not so bad as that. Out with it, swindler’s son, what’s eating you? OH! Pardon my language,” she nudged his leg where the lizardkin had bitten him before, “Something already did didn’t it?”

They all laughed at him and he suppressed a shudder at the memory.

“Just thinking about the dungeon,” Conrad said noncommittally, “When are we going back?”

The group chuckled and Karina answered, “Coupla days. We’ll want to relax a bit after so strenuous a dive. Maybe get my armor polished. Say!” she said, looking excited, “I can send you to get that done for me!”

Conrad nodded good naturedly, accepting the boon Karina had just handed to him, “Sure, sure. When?”

“Eager to get started? Too late now, so tomorrow. First thing,” she said, “I’ll want it done by breakfast.”

Conrad’s notebook had given him an idea earlier. If the Seekers would take from him anything they perceived to be valuable, but would leave to him things they saw as junk, then he could keep anything they didn’t actually want. It was a line of logic that in any other circumstance he would accept as a simple default - who wanted what they didn’t want? But in this case, the simple logic of it might be how he handled the problems of protection and weapons he had been mulling over.

It was fortunate, Conrad thought, that armorers, blacksmiths, and all manner of craftspeople threw out their refuse next to their shops, to be collected periodically by the city. Double fortunate that all of that scrap leather, chain, plate metal, and all manner of material - which no shopkeeper or adventurer would have any reason to purchase - would be available for him to peruse and make use of.

Ironically, it was also fortunate that anything he managed to craft would be of such poor quality that the Seekers would never want it, and so, it would be his.

He smiled back at Karina and gave her a nod.

“You got it.”