James yawned as he stepped out into the streets of Vindis, Nora right behind him as they headed off to the Valdora District. Both of them wanted to stop by to grab something to eat from the street vendors there instead of the moldy bread back at the Drunken Draugr. He’d rather spend the extra coin on something substantial and edible.
“So, I’m going to stay here for the coming months?” Nora asked as she followed James.
“Just until Bloom comes,” James confirmed. “And don’t worry, you won’t be staying at the tavern the entire time. Markov is working on getting you an actual decent place to stay. Probably somewhere quiet like the Silver District.”
“Thank the gods for that,” Nora muttered in relief. “I’d rather not sleep in a cramped room again.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll have the room to yourself tonight,” James said. “I’m heading back home today. I have to deal with more clan stuff there. We’re discussing expansion into the rest of the island.”
“I suppose I could handle myself in this city for a few months,” Nora sighed aloud. James could tell she was more than a bit annoyed at being left on her own.
“Don’t worry too much about it. Markov and Carla from the Merchant’s Guild will be here to help you out,” James said as he stopped in front of a vendor’s cart, the man behind it serving kebabs. Or what looked like kebabs. “And if that doesn’t work out, I could always send someone to accompany you for your time here.”
“I’ll be fine,” Nora huffed. She watched as James handed some silver to the vendor, who traded back some kebabs in return. “As long as I’m getting paid for being your stand-in, I could care less about who’s around to keep me company.”
“Yeah, yeah, say what you will,” James chuckled as he offered Nora a kebab. The councilwoman carefully accepted it, her eyes examining it with distrust.
“It won’t kill you,” James said as he took a bite out of his. “It’s an Arenian staple. Not bad, eh?”
Nora grimaced a little before she decided to chance a bite. She chewed a couple times, her expression changing from cautious disgust to unexpected surprise. “It’s… alright.”
“Best get used to it,” James said as he ate the rest of his. “Arenian street food is pretty much the only thing here that’s guaranteed not to give you dysentery.”
“Dysentery?”
“Earth terminology,” James responded with a shrug. “It’s a sickness that makes you shit yourself to death. The best way to avoid it is to eat actual food.”
“I see…” Nora muttered as she examined her kebab once more with caution. She looked even more hesitant to eat.
“Anyway,” James started. He looked around the plaza they were in, his gaze examining the street signs nearby. “I should get going. I want to stop by Nathan’s shop to grab something before I head back home.”
“Well, what should I do?” Nora asked with some confusion. “The next meeting won’t be for another week.”
“Get used to Vindis, explore a little,” James called back as he headed off. “Just uh, don’t go to the Copper District. Or the Iron District. Actually, avoid any shady alleys and streets. Trust the thieves. No, wait, trust the thieves.”
“What?”
“You know which ones I’m talking about, I already told you how to spot them,” James explained. He stopped for a moment to think. “Just ask for Markov. He’ll send someone to be your guide, promise!”
Without allowing Nora to even say anything, James headed into the nearest street, leaving the councilwoman amid the Valdora District. She would be fine, he knew. He had made sure to let Markov know to protect Nora while she was here.
‘Besides, if anything, the guardsmen here technically work for me. She’ll be fine.’
With that in mind, James made headway to Nathan’s shop.
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Vindis city had a tendency to be a confusing mess to navigate. James found it particularly difficult to figure out which bridge led to which platform. Platforms also varied in size and height. Some were so thin and small that they felt like rafts whenever James stepped on them, while others were the height of a small home. Their bridges were steep, and the dangers of falling were very, very real.
James had tried many times to think of the logistics behind the Thieves Guild tunnels, but he gave up soon after. It was best not to question such things.
The platform on which Nathan’s shop resided was difficult to access. James had gotten lost more times than he’d care to admit, the twisting alleyways and shifty bridges confusing him every time.
Regardless, he had visited the Wizard’s shop so many times that he could now find the route blindfolded. Not that he was inviting anyone to test him on that. James still had the irrational fear of falling between the platforms and getting crushed. It was a rare thing to happen due to the ‘safety’ precautions in the form of rope and barriers, but James still kept careful around the bridges and edges.
After a couple turns, James could see the shop’s signature blue torches, the sign reading out another new addition the Wizard had added recently.
NATHAN’S RUNES AND GIZMOS
NO REFUNDS
Proud affiliate with the White Raven Clan!
James couldn’t help but grimace at the small text, which had a small white raven drawn next to it. He knew Nathan was banking on the name in order to increase business.
‘Well, to be fair,’ Faust started. ‘It did work.’
James looked to the doors of the Wizard’s shop, where people were constantly entering and leaving. They varied from obvious members of the Thieves Guild to young Mages, adventurers, and the odd gnome.
This had been business for the shop for the past four months, with their clientele ranging from James and the odd adventurer to entire parties of people looking for items to use on their jobs. Whether it’d be mercenary work or a random quest, people wanted something. There were also the thieves, who actually bought things here. Things to use for stealing stuff, sure, but at least they were good business.
James sighed as he opened the shop’s door, the bell ringing out as he entered. He could see Wheaton, the gnome responsible for the front of the shop, helping a couple of clients choose artificer-made gadgets. James decided not to interrupt the gnome and did his best to avoid bumping into people as he ventured past the counter.
After he passed through the curtain, he was in Nathan’s workshop. It, too, had a revamped interior, with more bookcases and shelves of ingredients on display. James could see that a new room had even opened up further back, with more stuff in there.
In the middle of the workshop, James could see Nathan talking it out with a customer.
“Will it work?” The valdora wielding man whispered, to which James could hear clearly in the quiet shop.
“It’ll work wonders,’ Nathan said with a grin, his hand shaking a golden vial.
Nathan Arkanus was roughly James’ height, with tanned skin almost like Dahlia’s. James could see a scar beneath his crooked spectacles and hat, running along the left side of his face. It was an old reminder of his fight with the marauder Eli.
James waited around as the Wizard was occupied, his gaze moving to the other side of the workshop. There, he could see a lone gnome woman working on a bench. She was tinkering with a small box, her hands lazily piecing the parts together. Upon a closer look, James could notice dark bags underneath her eyes.
“Getting any sleep, Hilda?” James asked the artificer.
Hilda perked up at the sound of his voice, her head slowly turning. She glanced back at James with a tired look, her dark brown hair spilling from her messily made bun onto her forehead. She looked like hell, her cheeks gaunt, and her eyes ridden with exhaustion. Regardless, she gave James a small smile.
“I’m doing fine,” she muttered softly. The young Jarl could barely hear her.
“Are you sure you’re fine?” James asked. He furrowed his brow in worry. “You need sleep.”
“I need to keep working,” Hilda murmured as she turned back to her bench. “It’s the only thing I need.”
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James couldn’t help but feel remorse for the gnome. She had been a part of the group that carried the totem through Vindis during Midsommar. He remembered Dahlia telling him about how Vinn, her partner, had been brutally killed in front of them all. That night had traumatized her and done untold damage to her psyche.
James was shocked that she was able to keep working, and even more so that she refused any help. Every time he visited the shop, Hilda was still sitting at her bench, working.
“I’ve been trying to get her to take time off,” Nathan’s voice whispered from James’ right. He turned around to see the worried Wizard right behind him.
“Have you tried, I don’t know, closing the shop?” James asked.
“Tried that. She still managed to get in,” Nathan revealed. “Hilda… We’ve tried what we could. All we can do now is wait and hope she snaps out of it.”
James couldn’t help but feel responsible. Responsible for all the pain that had been caused.
‘If only I was faster. Stronger.’
He knew things would be different had he just been strong enough to go up against Deimos and Arthur. If he had just been fast enough to stop both from making things worse...
‘We can’t dwell on impossible feats,’ Faust muttered internally, ‘It is one thing to feel guilty over things that could have been stopped. It is another to think you could have done the impossible.’
‘I know,’ James answered back. ‘It just feels like I’m helpless sometimes. Like I’m useless.’
James had spent the better part of a year training and sharpening his skills, but his efforts had not brought him anywhere close to Deimos’ level. He was certain that if they had fought that night, James would most certainly have lost.
Deimos was stronger than he had initially expected. The marauder leader had been rumored to be on the same level as Yorn, but James never expected him to be enough to slaughter an entire group of Lumen Knights. Twice in one night, nonetheless.
James himself was barely able to kill Gryff with the help of his friends and allies. Even then, he had to resort to unconventional tactics to finish the knight off, which had nearly killed James in the process.
He still felt like he would have trouble with the knight now, with his strength as it is. He had improved, sure, but he knew it wasn’t enough. No, James needed to reach a level of power that was comparable to Yorn Halvorson. He needed to get stronger. The only way to do that was to train himself relentlessly and learn more spells.
‘And get better gear.’
James focused on the reason he had come here in the first place. He turned to the direction of Rockford’s forge, where the old dwarf did his smithing for most of James’ gear and armor.
“Is it ready?” James asked the Wizard. “The armor, I mean.”
“Yes, Rockford should be adding the finishing touches on it right now,” Nathan responded before he headed off to the forge’s entrance. He tapped his knuckle on the steel door, awaiting a response. After a moment, the door swung back to reveal Rockford. The old dwarf was in his blacksmith apron, his forehead gleaming with sweat and his hands holding an oversized hammer that looked similar to Haggard’s own.
“Eh? Oh, James!” the dwarf exclaimed in surprise before he tossed the hammer aside. He stepped up to the young Jarl, his gloved hand reaching out for a handshake. James accepted the gesture, doing his best to not make a face as his hand was covered with what felt like oil and soot. He decided not to ask what it was.
“How are you doing, Rockford?” James asked. “Any progress on your side of things?”
“Aye,” Rockford said as he pulled away, his attention to the forge behind him. James could see how the other room was lit by the smoldering furnace and pit in its center, lighting the workshop the old dwarf used. He spotted readily made swords, maces, spears, and even pieces of armor.
“That sharp-wire of yours was pretty easy to make. Give me a week, and I’ll have a spool of it ready for you,” Rockford explained as he pulled out a sample of what James had requested. It was roughly half a foot of steel wire, spotted with razor-sharp barbs.
“Good man,” James complimented as he examined the barbed wire. He had a couple of ideas in mind for it and couldn’t wait to implement them when he got back home. “How are the other projects going?”
Rockford shrugged, a hint of frustration coming over his eyes as he looked to the rear of the room, where long pieces of slag iron lay. He sighed and headed to the door nearby. “There’s not much progress with that gon of yours.”
“Really?” James raised an eyebrow as he stepped into the other room with Rockford. The blacksmith was walking his way to the rear of the workshop, where his surplus of weapons and armor lay. Rockford picked up a small piece of iron tubing that had a carved wooden handle attached to its rear. James had to squint in the low light to recognize it as a crude makeshift firearm.
Not long ago, James had drawn up rough schematics for a flintlock pistol. He had gotten the idea after reminiscing about the grenades the gnomes had crafted for him last Frost. Of course, he would have come up with it much sooner had he not been fighting for his life for a better part of a year.
He thought it to be a simple affair. Put steel balls as ammo and a few grains of blast powder, and ignite them with a flintlock mechanism. Of course, James had found out quickly that he was not an expert on firearms. It was only after weeks of improving upon his initial design that he was able to come up with a decent enough prototype that Rockford and Hilda could approve of.
“What you ask of me is out of the realm of my expertise,” Rockford said as he turned the device to the light. While crudely made, it had all the right features of a working pistol. “Even with Hilda’s help, I’m not sure if it’ll work. Especially if we can’t test it.”
“Right, the ammunition problem,” James sighed. Rockford nodded at that.
“Blast powder ain’t easy to get a hold of,” the dwarf explained. “The only reason the gnomes had any last year was due to Vinn’s connection in Haven. However…”
The dwarf trailed off for a moment, a deep frown appearing on his hardened face. James didn’t have to ask to know what Rockford was thinking about. Vinn, the gnome who had procured the powder, had died during Midsommar. Any knowledge about the blast powder and its origins went with him.
“Perhaps I can help in that,” Nathan spoke up finally, the Wizard breaking his silence. “A couple archmages and alchemists in Haven owe me a favor. I can send some letters and ask about this blast powder. Probably won’t have a response until after the New Year, however.”
“You’d do that?” James asked in surprise. The Wizard shrugged.
“It’s worth a try.”
“Good chance it might be a gnomish secret,” Rockford grumbled as he set the firearm to the pile of scrap he had fished it out of. “Tell them to take care in their questioning and prodding. Best we don’t piss off the Artificers Guild.”
“As long as we don’t hit another dead end,” James muttered as he looked at the scrap pile, where other projects were laid to eternal rest. “Nathan told me you have my armor ready?”
“Yes, I do,” Rockford chuckled as he trudged toward the other side of the room. He returned with a small chest. “Just finished cleaning it up for you, actually.”
James watched as the dwarf set the box down, his gloved hands unlocking and opening it over him. Nestled neatly in the middle of the box was the breastplate of the armor set. James leaned over and picked it up, his eyes examining the engravings and runic symbols carved into it. The orcs and Dahlia had made this set for him back before Midsommar as a gift.
Forged by Horuk and Silas, with finishing touches done by Rockford himself. Made from the same set of armor that Gryff Brenwick wore when he was killed by James a year back.
‘Really have to stop reminding myself of that,’ James grimly thought. It was already enough that he was mentally scarred by the sight of the dead knight. To actively know that he was wearing his armor was enough to make him sick.
As James examined the breastplate—which looked as good as new—he noted how the air shimmered around it. Now that he got a closer look, he realized that the runes were giving off a low blue glow, making it clear that they were enchanted. James looked down at the open chest, where he saw a similar glow emanating from the rest of the set.
“Are these…?”
“Defensive runes engravings,” Nathan interrupted. “Coupled with enchantments, of course. The boots specifically have stamina enchantments, with a bit of an agility boost. Gauntlets have basic defense runes and some magical resistances. Makes it easier to deflect strikes and use your cyromancy without the worry of damaging your gloves.”
“I–”
“Breastplate is engraved with defense runes that are on par with basic Carapace. Added some personal enhancements that should be able to resist advanced spells like Ice Lance or—”
“Nathan,” James interrupted, his hand grabbing the Wizard by the shoulder. “I… I can’t afford this. Genuinely.”
With how expenses were at the moment, even with the valdoras he acquired from the Aldren vault, he simply could not afford enchantments of this level. Especially with his coffers being stretched thin by guardsmen funding and his business endeavors.
“It’s on us,” Nathan responded with a chuckle.
“What?” James blinked in surprise. “What are you…?”
“You don’t owe us anything,” Rockford added as he took the breastplate away from James. The old dwarf then set it carefully in the chest before closing it and handing it back to the young Jarl.
“I don’t understand, why?” James asked. “Don’t you guys lose money for engraving runes?’
From what he could recall, rune engravings were expensive for a reason. They required actual gold dust—or valdora if you prefer—in order to function and last. Not only that, but they took ages to set in perfectly. One could easily mess it up if a step was done incorrectly.
“Eh,” Nathan shrugged. “We already make enough money as it is with the constant customers. Not just that, but you did save the city.”
“I wasn’t alone in that,” James muttered. “Hell, you and Seamus technically saved me.”
“Well, to be fair, if it wasn’t for you bringing the cavalry, we wouldn’t be alive right now,” Nathan responded. “Besides, you’re good business.”
“Thank you,” James couldn’t help but chuckle. “Seriously. Thank you all. You guys have been there for me for a year now and saved my ass more than once. Thank you again.”
“Don’t mention it,” Nathan said, his hand patting James on the back. “Just give them hell.”
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James was still grinning as he approached the ship Draugr’s Haunt, its crew all prepping the longship for departure. He carried with him the chest Rockford, and Nathan had given to him. In it was his full set of armor, which also came with a couple of choice potions and herbs he had bought for Dahlia.
“We’re all set,” James called out to Dimitri, who had just spotted him.
“Good timing! We’re ready to go!” the eccentric shipmaster shouted back.
James proceeded to board the ship, his hands careful not to drop the chest of valuables. Once he got settled on the deck, he looked at the horizon adjacent to the floating city, specifically the direction to Yorktown.
He could see how the morning sun had risen slowly, even behind the gray clouds that blanketed the sky. The day was still young, and he had no doubts he’d reach the island he called home before sunset.
“Dimitri, Liam,” James called as he looked at the crew. “Let us be on our way.”